Catch 22 in Santiago

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March 21st 2012

Published: March 21st 2012

´I left my heart, didde diddle dee, diddle diddle dum, .in San ti arrrr go´The words of Tony Bennett spring to mind as a sit on the night bus to San franti argo.
Suggestions from my companeros, French Yann and Aussie Karina, to proving I am British:
1. Walk into embassy and show off my lilly white skin. Go outside for a few hours during midday sun with no suncream on and return to the building as red as a lobster.
2. Run in dressed as Benny Hill, chasing scantily clad women and a short bloke with a bald head, singing that frantic tune.
3. Show them me on the TV show 'Changing Rooms' in 1997. That from Andy Joyce, vis faceshit, a good detective who saw the writing on the wall and buggered off to Vancouver whilst the going was good. Similar from Jayne Gudge,ex- comms operator; Yeah ring Lawrence LLB... he will confirm - you did like the room didnt you?
4. Again from Facebook, Dave Curtis states: do I know you?? who are you again??.. if you can get someone to FB Dave we can all deny we know you. Thanks DC.5. Hermano Martin states: just turn up pissed.6. Tom Hofte, fellow traveller and all round good dutch egg reckons : sing national anthem.The winner though and one which I think will convince them I am english is from Russ Saunders, colleague and amigo, again via faceshit: Well first march straight to the back of the queue and patiently wait your turn drinking strong lager, when you get to the front, take off your shirt to reveal a nasty lobster sun burn, glass the first Johnny foreigner you can lay your hand on, start hurling around plastic chairs loudly shouting INGERLAAAAND, INGERLAAAND LA LA..... That should at least give them an initial gut feeling that you are from good ol'Blightly. Good luck and try not to fall asleep on public transport, next time you may wake up being spooned.´´Thanks Russ, reckon that should do it.Oh and it's just not me. Karina was on the bus the other day and suffered Chile Radio for hour upon hour. As angry and as frustrated as I am. At least she had 12 bars AND the chorus.
" You were looky" i said in my best Monty Python 'Four Yorkshiremen/Steve Fraser' type voice,
" when i were a lad I used t' dreeem of listenin' to t'chorus
We ad to lick radio clean wit´ tongue everyday so that our ma would let us listen to our t´12 bars"
So an overnight bus journey. An unexpected joy in my life courtesy of my own dunderheadedness and the piece of mierda who took advantage of it.I recall the movie ¨The Bucket List´ with Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson. They are sat on a pyramid in Eygpt. Freeman comments that he thinks it was the ancient Egyptians who, when entering the afterlife, had to answer two questions;
"Have you found joy in your life, and, has your life brought joy to others?" I think the little piece of mierda who came briefly into my life last week will have some difficult questions to answer.Anyways, There are three types of night busses to the capital of Chile. The premium camas with seats that fold into beds like Virgin Atlantic Premium Class, then the semi camas, with seats that go half way back, and finally cattle class, like Ryanair/first great western rallways.
I am in a semi cama with Tur Bus. Unbelievably we set off at 8.24pm precisely as listed on my ticket.
8.24pm?
'but this is South America' I hear you cry,
8.24pm? ocho y veinte de la tardes/noche.?
South Americans don't do 8.24pm but it would appear for the first time in a month I am on a proper bus service. The Ford Mondeo of Chile bus companies.
I have a comfortable seat that folds down, the tv is on, albeit in Spanish and I understand breakfast will be served before my arrival in Santiago in 10 hours time.
Time for a movie quote I think, and so, with apologies to the Blues Brothers, John Bellushi and Dan Ackroyd;
" it's 408 miles to Santiago. We have a full tank of petrol, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark and, if they had not been stolen, I would be wearing sunglasses"
disco out.

So arrive in Santiago at 7am after ok-ish bus ride and met by Andres. He was been so kind and as offered to not only help me sort this out but that I can stay with him at his house with his family. Rush hour metro in Santiago is no place for the feint hearted but across town, met mum Victoria who made me welcome, a shower, some breakfast and then off to sort everything out.All I can say is I thank Simon Bolivar for finding me Andy, because without him I would probably have punched someone or something or just gone ´Totally Tonto.

I know this is South America but for #s sake.Nobody spoke English at all.(not even a smattering).passed from pillar to post. insane jobsworths.Now I can get by with please, thank you, dos cerveza por favor etc, and maybe some more conversation with my survival spanish but imagine trying to negotiate yourself thorugh the minefield below without having someone who can translate for me.

So, from the instructions of the police in Valdiva the first stop is the police of Investigations (PDI).Any PDI will do they informed me . Bus to nearest office. Easy? Non.! Because I had lost all ID they could not assist me. They driected me to a main PDI, in downtown Santiago. But first I needed to complete my police report at the local police station (carabineros) and that I woud need two passport photos of myself for the PDI downtown. So off we trape to the nearest nick, take out ticket from machine and wait our turn. I produced my certificado from the Valdivia police major and then have to complete a statement IN SPANISH as to what happened. He then hands me a piece of paper and explains that I need to hand this piece of paper to the policeman SAT NEXT TO HIM for a copyof the report, but it would not be ready til tomorrow,and will cost me 1,500 pesos. # that I thought, confirmed by Andy who stated a copy of the was not necessary, that the Majors report will do.

 So, bus journey to down town santiago. passing the park, the palace and all the places I visited when last here. find a passport photo shop. "dos mille pesos por dos" 2000 for 2. There being no where else around to get cheaper I paid up and then we walked to the PDI building behind Plaza Del Armas -the catherdral I visited when last in Santiago. It was by now 1pm and the place closed at 2pm. Being a former cop, the queue stretching out of the door and around the building gave me a clue that this was not going to be as plain sailing as I had hoped.Long queues in 30 degrees heat with no shade are normally difficult places at the best of times, but then we we entered the building and # me. It was a mass of humanity all waiting in a boiling room to speak to about 8 people behind 16 desks. We still had the embassy to get to ,providing the paperwork I had completed was in order. Andy pushed his way through this hot sweaty mass and spoke to someone behind a desk, who then directed him to speak to someone else sat behind another desk .Memories of the Navimag coming back to haunt me.. more desks than people. speak to this person then that person.

 Chile has this crazy job creation scheme where two people are needed for one job.

Anyways the second person directed us out of the main waiting area to the aliens dept down the hall. There sat detective ´´sauve and sophisticated´ He must have been important because he had his own desk, and just one desk at that, and his own computer. Blackhair gelled back, cool as a cucumber with gun strapped to his side. Behind him was a pile of papers just like mine, so I guess he had had a busy day sorting out police reports for stolen passports. So,my position was explained.

He raised his hand and stated that I need to pay 500 peso at the main desk before he would commence.So back to the main hall, stand in queue and pay money to cover admin costs. Great. 2500 pesos plus bus fare down and not even been to Embassy yet obtain new travel documents. Given a receipt and back to Mr S&S. A new report is typed and I am handed one with my photo attached for the embassy.Tramp across to the other side of town. beginning to feel like a yoyo.

The British Embassy is located in a builing that also houses a tobacco manufactuing headquaters. How ironic is that? British Embassy cigarettes. The staff at the Embassy could not have been more helpful and they spoke ENGLISH. The cost to get me a new travel passport to allow me to cross to Peru and continue my travels, 79,500 peso ( around 105 quid) and I would need a photograph.

" I just had two, and have one on the police form. can I use this one?", I asked"Sorry, no. you need to keep that one with the police report" .So, some more photgraphs needed. This time its 2000 pesos for 6 photos. Realise I was well seen off in downtown Santiago but not much I can do about it now.

I am down to about 40,000 peso courtesy of Yann.Go to the western union office opposite the Embassy to enquire what identification was needed to obtain cash that I was arranging to send over. "pasaporte senor".

 So, after seven hours of Andy and I tramping from one side of Santiago to the other and back again, in the boiling sun, at 30 degress, there I am with Andy, stood in the street with the British Embassy to my left and Western Union Office to my right.To get my passport I need 79,500 pesos. To get my money I need my passport as identification.Classic Catch 22 and no mistake.There was only one thing for it. Beer. Disco out.

 So woke up with renewed hope. when we got back to the house and explained all, Andy´s dad pulled out 80,000 pesos for me to sort it all out .Molly has wired some emergency money across via Weston Union and the bank international transfer to Andy´s mum account has gone through and I should be fluent by monday. Last night met the rest of Andy´s family. His brother Ivan, sister lorraina and her husband Gaston, an Chilean born English teacher here in Santiago. A really close family and I am greatful to have met them.Spent the rest of the evening chatting spanglish to Andy´s folks, Ivan snr and Victoria. A few beers inside me and my Spanish coming together.I commented to Andy that maybe I will look back in a few years time about this incident and that it all ended up for the good in the end. Things happen for a reason and maybe in time I will undertsand what that reason is.

 I asked him about Chile Radio. Andy is also frustrated by it, but he cannot provide me with an answer as to why only 12 bars are played.

Spent the morning conversing with mum Victoria in Spanish and then off to embassy and Western Union were passport obtained and moneys aquired. My eternal gratitude to Molly and Andys family. I am going to make the Machu Pichu afterall. just need to keep around the Santiago area until my credit cards arrive from UK and keep everything safe from now on.Hopefully by thursday or Friday next week. There is plenty to do and the sun is shining. Hope to buy a new camera and sunglasses etc next week when money transfer is in and to travel to Santa Cruz this weekend for the wine fiesta.

 In the mean time, as Andy´s mum speaks no English, we are talking only in Spanish which is beuno para mi´

So, you recall the crazy job creation scheme in Chile?

Question: How many people does it take to make one small cup of latte at a tiny coffee stall at a street corner in Santiago, opposite the Britsh Embassy?

Answer: THREE

One to make the coffee. One to boil the milk, put the lid on and hand it to me, and one to collect my money. BONKERS.

 I ask for a small latte. ¨Si¨, says person 1. She makes the coffee - must admit I was half expecting to make it myself but having never used an expresso machine before I was grateful she had necessary skills. She then hands the drink to person 2 who adds the milk she has steamed, puts the lid on and then she hands it to me. I then give person 3 my money and change is returned. Total cost: 1,490 pesos (around 1.90). How the # does this place make a profit?I began looking around for person 4 to add my sugar for me. In the end I did it myself. The employees of the coffee stall spoke to me. I did not quite catch what they said but i believe they told me it was number 4´s day off!!

Dicso out and me gusta tu trabajo (again)

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