on the other side

I think this city knows me. Valparaíso has greeted me again, with an exhibit of Pablo Neruda's shells, cazuela, and the ocean, which is still enormous. As for aftermath, there were three tremors today, only two of which I felt (and one just now!). In older parts of town, there are piles of rubble in the streets and lots of taped off sections; rumor has it the city is cutting off water for 72 hours starting tomorrow, I'm not sure why. We'll see how that goes...

Recap... Buenos Aires feels European with a Latin American twist. It is large. Tango is enrapturing. I think I only scratched the surface of a city to rival New York. I visited the mausoleum (I don't even know what the right word is in English) of San Martin, liberator of Argentina, Chile, and Peru, ensconced in very classical looking sculptures, and am thinking about what it means to inherit a tradition of revolution, from the continent of colonization. If the people embrace cultural colonization, that is, continued heritage, are they still creating an identity? (But who are "the people" making the identity?) What does it even mean to have a national identity in a world that has been "globalized," that is, interconnected, for centuries?

Anyways. What a trip to hang out with my cousins who speak perfect Argentinian Spanish but who are clearly Taiwanese. My week in Buenos Aires was filled with good food (my aunt is a fabulous cook, and how I missed Chinese food), huge trees, and random connections--Melody randomly appears in Buenos Aires and we have a South American RMHS reunion! Also I learned how to conjugate vos, though it still doesn't make sense to me why it even exists.

Mirá! (courtesy of Melody)

On a whim, I decided to visit Mendoza before returning to Chile, and I am enchanted. I haven't felt as at home in a city as I felt walking the shady open spaces in the desert air of this oasis, and how absurd that within a half hour's drive from the city you can surround yourself not just with tall, luminous, dusty peaks but also with a distant view of the snow capped Andes.

From Mendoza I took my last solitary journey into this naturaleza, and walked to the edge of a mountain lake that is home to flamingos, somewhere near Malargüe, plus curved pathways made by volcanic eruptions at Volcan Malacara. Wtf!

And now, me quedan less than four days in Chile. Speaking to Matt in English today was actually a little strange. I'm going to have to find some Spanish speaking people in the States, though I assume that won't be a problem at all.