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Published: November 11th 2010
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It had to happen. We were running out of money. When Ana and I planned this trip we decided we were really going to do South America. Thus far, while we had seen new places such as Rio, Iguazu and the Colca Canyon, we had yet to venture past our relative comfort zones. So it was with a heavy heart that we decided to cut short our visit to Chile to just three days. The one thing in Chile I had wanted to do was hike in the Torres del Paine, but our original timetable only gave us enough time to fly down there and flights were set at murderous prices due to peak season. So we decided to save money by chilling with friends and family in Lima and then take in one sight properly in Chile: Valparaiso.
But before we get to that place of wonder, we have to tell you about the two outstanding events of our week in Lima.
A glimpse at the real Lima
The indefatigable Pedro and Emma were once again looking after us, helping us keep costs down. Ana and I were basically killing a week in Lima - we even
went to the cinema! But in amongst us trying to be boring, two incredible experiences came our way.
First of all, Apollos and Pilar (returned from the sojourn in Edinburgh where we had last prevailed on their hospitality) invited us to a gig. But not just any gig. This event was being help in the poorer parts of Lima in an enormous apartment block. Not quite shantytowns (which are never to far away) but definitely where violence and crime were fairly rife. The event consisted of an exhibition of art created at workshops for the disadvantaged youth. Then came our own artistic workshop, where we painted rocks from the nearby quarry and, most amusingly, had to mold a piece of clay between the two of us blindfolded. The results, as you can see were spectacular. Finally the evening ended with a wonderful rendition of music by Silvio Rodriguez where we were all encouraged to sing along. A fascinating insight into the real living conditions in Lima.
Second opportunity was presented by Emma and Pedro's daughter, Rebecca. She worked for an agency that organised the logistics for charitable missions coming to Peru. A church in the US was sending
out a team of doctors, nurses and volunteers to work in the shantytowns that ring almost every major city in Peru, but Lima in particular. As almost none of these volunteers spoke any Spanish, Rebecca asked whether we wanted to come along and help as volunteers.
The trip out was a bit eye-opening, turning away from the ignorant safety of the main roads onto the dirt tracks that separate the blocks of organically spreading shacks and homes. Very few amenities make it out this far and certainly no health services. We attended a briefing before the clinic was opened, where we were told that the majority of clients were coming to have intestinal worms and malnutrition symptoms treated. I was worried about how confronting the experience was going to be, but when we got going it was inspirational.
Ana got to help out as a nurse and I helped out in triage, translating. At first, I shared in the shame of the people confessing their ailments but after a while the shock wore off and I could see what a positive and friendly group they were, in stark contrast to their surroundings. Ana and I have since seen
a Peruvian film set in these towns called
La Teta Asustada, and it captures the same spirit very well (and was nominated for a best foreign film Oscar!).
And so, having delved a little deeper into the Peruvian people as opposed to just their culture, we were moving on.
Neruda knew his shit
Writing in retrospect, it is hard to remember exactly what is so magical about Valparaiso. With only the funds for one location in Chile, Ana and I had decided to head for the coast near Santiago. With the option of the hip, commercial Vina del Mar offering a poor man's Rio, Ana and I headed for the poetic crumbling facades of Valpo. The busy port pushes up against steep hills, leaving little to no room.
As Ana and I cruised the streets looking for our hostel, the beautiful colonial buildings bore down on us. We spent three merry days simply walking around the steep (oh so steep) streets. Once the imposing CBD buildings give way to houses, the local vibe expresses itself through painting their houses all manner of amazing colours. The streets are so steep that there are a series of cable
cars the line the hills, helping you to get to the top and see the sights. These cable cars are as old as the cracking buildings, being hauled up the hills by huge wooden wheels and aged cables.
Once again, eating good food and teaching fellow travellers how to play 21 were paramount to our enjoyment. But there was something about the feel of Valpo that was intoxicating. Every corner you round, there is another beautiful shade of house, or some amazing graffiti. It is the type of place you would go to write a novel and it is little wonder that Neruda ended up spending so much time there.
Neruda is one of Chile's literature Nobel laureates, famous particularly for his poetry charged with love and eroticism. When I was asked by Zac and Sof to read a Spanish text of my choosing at their wedding, I knew immediately to go for Neruda. I loved his poetry but his house was like the inside of a Burton fantasy. Clashing colours, amazing statuary, stuffed animals, the works. The man's stories and life were every bit as legendary as the legacy of poetry he left us.
Those three
New meets old
Electricity seemed to be a new idea, in that cables were everywhere, contrasting with the beautiful buildings. sunny days left a residual feeling of peace and contentment, but little in the way of specific memories. If anyone asked, I would always tell them to go to Valpo. If they asked me why, I would struggle to tell them.
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