This is a shitty picture

but it shows a modern marvel. I could post a picture of the pretty parks and squares in Santiago, or maybe the graffiti murals that span whole blocks with psychedelic visions. Maybe I could find a cool angle to capture a Pisco Sour in a photo, or a pastel de choclo. But I'll get to all the Chilean culture in the next six weeks I'm here. which I feel sure and sad in saying is no where near enough time. I joked around with a couple buddies today, saying Chile just puts me in a good mood. Santiago welcomed us with blue skies and beach weather.

So far, this city is the perfect mix of my two homes, Costa Rica and Santa Barbara. The beachy warmth encourages shorts and tank tops and though there's no coast in sight, there's a pleasant beach-day feel to the entire neighborhood I've explored, that is Bellavista. Bellavista's packed with jazz bars, hookah joints, murals and bohemian allure.

There is a big hill/small mountain directly in front of my school, Tandem, and the light shines on it in such a way that in the afternoons, I'm taken back to a brisk summer day in Santa Barbara where sun rays exalt the Mesa's green hillsides like the intense light John Muir described in the Sierra Nevada. A light that dazzles. It shines on its object as if in admiration.

I found myself infatuated with the twisted history of Argentina but it seems Chile's story will only intrigue me more. Thirty years ago this country had a democratically appointed socialist government. And people were happy and culture thrived and the economy was just dandy for a while. I actually feel a sort of affectionate admiration for South American heroes like Che Guevara and Salvador Allende.

Then Kissinger and Nixon and the CIA fuck shit up cuz they're terrified of a communist movement in the western world. I dunno what to think yet.

I'm really glad I'm here. Everything feels relevant.

OH! the modern marvel in the picture, I almost forgot. That narrow cylinder's circumference brought 33 men with dental cavities up 625 meters of collapsed rock, one at a time. It's called the Phoenix and after 70 days of isolation from the surface we call home, it breathed life back into miners whose plight would have been fatal some thirty years ago. Nah I dunno actually how long ago they could have figured out a solution like this one, but I'm still blown away and it's times like these I do away with my Thoreau-ian ideals and thank goodness for modern tech. because some real people's lives got saved.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-latin-america-11518015

scroll down in that article and you'll find mini accounts of each miner. I'm glad they still have their lives.