Some days play out like a short story. Sunrise is chapter one, and the epilogue is written by the glow of a full moon. In between are vignettes that are the moments of the day.

Sunday was not a page turner. There were no “white knuckle” experiences. It was just pleasant.

Lounging on the beach.

Sharing the pool with the neighborhood Iguana.

Lunch at “Coconuts”, the local “dive” where the Super Bowl champion Kansas City Chiefs are celebrated… along with every State that has ever issued a license plate, every venue that has sold a tee-shirt… and every woman who has worn and then left her thong or bra.

Sunday is the one day each week that there are few (if any) landings by cruise ships. Instead, for the locals it is a day of rest and an invitation to “tailgate” on the shores of the eastern side of the island.

No cares, no worries, no stress, “no te preoccupies”… Just a mouthwatering grilled octopus for dinner.

This is the land of endless Summer… let tomorrow take care of tomorrow.

Peace Everyone. Pete

PS: It has been about 2 months since I last posted my “Thoughts”. We have been consumed by the holidays and remained close to home. I have not been idle. Over these weeks I have worked to assemble my travel posts into bound volumes for each of our children, our parents, and us. I have occasionally been asked, “How long have you been a writer?” Honestly, I have never considered myself one.

In compiling my writings and selected pictures I have been surprised by the volume of material. The hard bound books are 12” x 12”, and Volumes 1-3 are back from the printer. I am working of Volume 4 and I anticipate that the project will exceed 700 pages. Maybe I am a writer.

PPS: This is not a commercial enterprise. The books are expensive and only worth it as away communicating life as we know it to lives that follow us, as yet unknown.

Pete

Our day was filled with exciting moments caught up in protests. It also had peaceful moments of a delightful lunch and relaxing dinner. More on those things later in this picture intensive post.

More than 14,000 years ago humans first entered Central and South America. Complex societies were established, trade and commerce flourished, and technologies were created suitable to the needs of the inhabitants.

It has been said that to the victors belong the spoils of war. It is also said that history is written by the victor and not the vanquished. I first gained some insight into my misunderstandings about the pre-Columbian Americas by reading an excellent book, “1491: New Revelations of the Americas Before Columbus”, by Charles C. Mann.

My school taught notions of “Indians” as primitive people who were “rescued” from illiteracy and bare subsistence living was turned upside down. Mann described the Americas in terms of populations second only to Asia, elaborate transportation networks that spanned the continents, and well organized cities as centers of culture.

Today we spent hours touring the extraordinary collection of pre-Columbian art and artifacts displayed at the Museo Chileno de Arte Precolomino in Santiago.

It is one thing to read about societies, and quite another to see those lost societies projected through the art and technology that have survived their conquest.

Our visit to the museum was greatly aided by Alvaro Ojalvo who is a historian at the museum. He is engaged in research to complete his PhD program focused on Indigenous Societies. Alvaro kindly granted us over 2 hours of his time in a detailed explanation of the exhibits and the peoples who created them.

It is not possible for me to convey all of the information that was presented to us. I will let my images do their best to give some insight into our experience. I will, however, add a comment or two where appropriate.

The first observations that I will share are that the craft that is obvious in many of the objects is of a very high order. These would stand well against similar textile, ceramic, metal, and sculpture relics from Ancient Greece, Rome, and Egypt. In many cases the items predate their European counterparts by hundreds, indeed in a few cases thousands, of years. A number of items are strikingly similar to those ancient counterparts.

I was particularly struck by this large 500 year old Quipu. Quipus were a system of information storage employed by the Incas (also correctly spelled “Inka”). The weaving contains its information in a complex system where the quantity, position, and type of knot are relevant. There are primary and secondary chords, also relevant, as is the material used in the individual chords (cotton, wool, or lama hair) the difference of which can be easily felt. While the system has not been decoded, it is known that this Quipu contains over 15,000 pieces of information!

The ancient world is rife with examples of non-alphabetic systems of writing. Our western orientation to an alphabet actually limits our understanding of how other systems might have existed and been effective. Alvaro highly recommended a book, “Writing Without Words: Alternative Literacies in Mesoamerica and the Andes”, by Elizabeth Hill Boone.

Mummification was developed over 2,000 year before the techniques were first employed in Ancient Egypt.

Production of cloth from cotton and lama fur began thousands of years before Christ with advanced techniques of weaving and dyeing of cloth soon following. The invention of the loom is dated here to more than 3,000 years ago.

So much information for this little “blog”…

If you would like to take your own “tour” of the Museum, extensive information is available at www.precolombino.cl

Now about those protests:

The first one that we encountered pertained to a movement to rewrite Chile’s Constitution. Coupled with that were voices to expand the political party system and transfer the management of the pension system to the State and out of private hands,

The second protest that engulfed us involved scores of people, young and old, bearing signs with a single open eye. They would stand silent for a few minutes and then at the sound of a whistle began a rhythmic chant. They would all again fall into silence with the scenario repeating a number of times. As the group began to move en-masse to another location a woman carrying one of the signs took my arm. She said that she had once lived in Georgia and wanted to make sure that we knew the significance of the event.

In recent protests the police had sought to quell the demonstrators through the use of “rubber bullets”. 352 of the targeted individuals were rendered fully or partially blind as the “bullets” destroyed their eyes.

“Non-lethal” force does not mean non-devastating. The use of this crowd control technique is currently suspended and internal investigations are ongoing into the conduct of the police.

…and the repasts that we enjoyed at lunch and dinner:

We returned to Food Park Tepeyak for lunch where we dined on a huge burger, salad, and fries. As good as it gets!

For dinner we wandered into what is known as the Barrio Brasil. This is a somewhat “bohemian” neighborhood about a half mile walk from our apartment. It has a central park where vendors congregate. The buildings are a mix of new and old… with a lot of graffiti. There is a very active nightlife that we may explore tomorrow. Tonight we satisfied ourselves with dinner in a small and friendly restaurant.

Peace Everyone! Pete

PS. Tomorrow is our last full day in Santiago. I look forward to sharing the continuing experience in my next post.

Imagine for a moment that for the last 22 days you have been a player in a game. There aren’t many players, but they are all like you and they like you. The host of the game provides a staff to grant your every want, need, whim, and even whimsy. The rules of the game are clear, familiar, and designed for your success.

Now imagine voluntarily choosing to leave that game for a different one. The new game has over 15 million players, 7 million of which are in your immediate vicinity. Very few are like you, and you really don’t matter to them, or the host. You have the barest understanding of the rules, and you have to define your success in terms of just making it from one day to the next. Oh, and virtually none of the players speak your language.

That pretty much describes what we have done in departing the Viking Sun and traveling solo into the heart of Santiago, the capital of Chile.

Most Viking passengers who departed ship yesterday were heading straight to the airport to board planes for home. We had elected to spend a few days on our own in Santiago. The first challenge was to make our way from Valparaiso to Santiago, which is about a 2 hour drive into the interior.

Uber operates in both Valparaiso and Santiago. What could be simpler?! We scheduled an Uber to pick us up. The fare would be half what the port tour operator quoted, $100 US instead of $200 US for the transport. Unfortunately, one of the new “rules” came into play as I received notice that our Uber was arriving. Unfortunately, Uber is not allowed into the drive at the passenger cruise terminal. It seems that only the port tour operator and a few select taxi companies are. What’s more, we are not allowed to simply walk out of the terminal. It is required that we be shuttled from the terminal into the city proper. We lost our Uber.

The shuttle driver who spoke virtually no English nevertheless understood our situation. Outside the entrance to the terminal drive he pulled over in a spot where a few taxis were parked. The drivers were milling about in casual conversation with one another. He hailed one of the drivers and spoke to him in Spanish. The taxi driver in turn smiled at us and in broken but serviceable English said that he would drive us to Santiago. He quoted a fare on par with Uber, but cash only. Our decision was based upon the “bird in the hand” philosophy liberally seasoned with trust. We were to learn that this kind gentleman was Alex Calquin. I helped Alex put our bags into the trunk.

The 90 mile drive was indeed 2 hours long. It included a stop for gas which was a great relief for us as I was not sure that I could make it without a “Baño break” (bathroom). The Shell station also had a McDonalds, and wonder of wonders an ATM where we could supplement our barely sufficient cash to pay the fare.

Alex was wonderful! He gave us a running commentary on the drive, highlighting the sights, giving insight into the current events and speaking with great pride about his sons and 13 year old daughter, Francesca. He was apologetic about his combination English/Spanish, which was infinitely better than my Spanish. I was able to decode most of what he said.

The topic of family came up because I asked about a cute pencil drawing that he had stuck on the dash of his car. A gift from his daughter that keeps her near to his thoughts. Daughters are like that, even in their 30’s and 40’s… I am finding the same applies to granddaughters as well.

As we approached Santiago the traffic grew brutal. Alex avoided portions of the gridlock by detouring down neighborhood streets that I would not have chosen to walk, day or night.

Alex delivered us to our lodgings and himself into our hearts.

The “San Martin Downtown Hotel”, where I had booked 3 nights on “booking dot com” was not a hotel. The exterior is stark with a decidedly Eastern European Communist era flavor to it.

There was no marquee other than the address. The front desk was really a security station with a large screen TV simultaneously displaying at least 30 camera feeds. The man at the counter looked at the confirmation documents that I presented and then began to text to me with Google Translate. He would have to call for someone.

30 minutes later Juan arrived. In his 40’s and with a bubbly personality he ushered us through the security doors and onto the elevator. As we ascended to the 6th floor of the 17 floor building he explained in passable English that it was not a hotel, but an apartment building in which he managed a number of flats as guest rooms. I guess “Booking” did not have a box for that category of lodging. For $75.00 US a night I shouldn’t complain.

Fortunately the small unit was pleasant, clean, and serviceable. It includes a kitchenette and balcony. The balcony looks out upon a similar grey concrete apartment building where we are able to quickly identify the age, gender, and girth of the occupants by the laundry hanging to dry on their balconies.

6 stories below us a non-stop symphony of blaring horns, shouting drivers, and general road noise guaranties that the glass door to the balcony of this non-air conditioned flat will remain closed. Temps are in the upper 80’s, but the humidity is low and there is a fan in the bedroom. It just gets better and better.

We unpacked and took a stress nap. Businesses are typically open in the morning until around noon and then close for the afternoon, reopening around 4 p.m.. This is the still honored custom of the siesta that is found throughout Central and South America and also in portions of the Mediterranean. We like it, and as we wander through our retired 60’s are adopting it more and more often.

At 4 p.m. we struck out to explore the neighborhood. We are a few short blocks from the historical quarter where there are government buildings, the President’s residence, the Cathedral, Cathedral Square, and a very long pedestrian shopping district with wall-to-wall people and vendors.

There is a significant police presence, perhaps because of the recent violence. The “Carabineros de Chile” as they are called, look no nonsense and very professional. Nevertheless, there are few of “them” when compared to crowds of “the others”. Street theft is a problem in this city as in so many others.

We walked in search of food, drink, and an opportunity to process the flood of new experiences. A little restaurant provided all of those things to us in a street side setting. Again, ordering was a bit of a crapshoot as there was no English on the menu or our waitresses lips. Cerveze (beer) was easy, pizza, salad, and fries, were a little more challenging. They tasted great and the prices were a little better than what we would pay back home.

Continuing our walk our curiosity drew us into what appeared to be a vacant lot now occupied by a number of colorful food trucks displaying beverages, Arabic food, Pizza, BBQ and the like. Just as we were exchanging thoughts of regret at not seeing this venue earlier, we were approached by Francisco.

In good English he welcomed us and explained that this was his operation. “Food Park Tepeyak”, Rescatando Espacios Para Ti (Rescuing Spaces for You).He had secured and decorated the vacant lot for this use, installing electrical and water connections for the vendors, tables and toilets for the customers. He welcomed us to his creation. We explained that we had just eaten but promised to return. He is open from noon to 11 p.m. every day. We will be back.

In our wandering we did not see another American tourist. I know that they must be out there somewhere, but then we are not searching. We have two days to take in this new experience and perhaps learn more of the rules to this unfamiliar game.

Peace Everyone. Pete

PS. December 11th: We returned to Food Park Tepeyak today, found ourselves surrounded by a couple of large protests, and were wowed by the Precolombino Museo. Details next post… Stay tuned.