movimiento

Back in Chile. It is actually comforting to hear Chilean Spanish again, after straining my ears for two days trying to understand the Argentinians who ran the hostel I stayed at in San Martín de Los Andes--the "ll" that becomes a "je" or "che" sound distracted me so much that I found myself only hearing this strange new tone and failing to actually understand what was being said. Also, in my head, I kept hearing Larry's impression of Argentinians, which made me want to laugh, but usually at completely inappropriate times.

In any case, Argentina was pretty similar to Chile, except the food was oh so much better. I met a tall German named Thomas and a crazy Spaniard named Carlos, and last night we shared (a lot of) red wine and Argentinian beef which we cooked over a fire in our hostel. Que bakan! ...which actually means something different in Argentina; in Chile, "bakan" is like the slang word "cool," whereas apparently in Argentina, it means someone who always wins or gets the girl or comes out on top. Also, instead of saying "una luka" for 1mil pesos, they say "un mango," like the fruit. This I like.

Before going to Argentina, I managed to miss an alarm and had to hitchhike to a national park near Pucon since I missed the bus... but which turned out to be maybe the best thing that could have happened, since I was picked up by a school group from Temuco and got to ride up with them all the way to the base of Volcan Villarrica. They called me their "amiga magnifica de los Estados Unidos." Then I spent the afternoon hiking with a guide in the park, walking through paths where lava had run and beneath waterfalls in the misty climate of the volcano. We could see the clouds lifting briefly above the lake from where we were...

The guide also took me to the Ojos of Caburgua, which are incredibly powerful falls, cascading into bluuue water, where we saw some crazy Canadians and United Statesians kayaking over the falls. Caburgua Lake, where the Ojos originate from, is the definition of a lake. I don't think I could dream a more perfect lake. Apparently the Chilean president Bachallet and presidencial candidate Piñera have houses on the lake as well. I would die happy there, I think.

But now I am in Valdivia, where Kuntsman is brewed, and where three rivers come together to form what used to be the southernmost border of the Spanish empire. There is water everywhere, especially since it is also raining and misting at the same time. I guess I should get used to this, seeing how I'll be living on an island for then ext month... though there's something soothing and perhaps even more gorgeous about stormy days over water. One day I'll get these film pictures online! For now you will have to imagine.