Two Tips From Chile

---

Always Keep Your Eyes Out For Jesus
Pucon, Chile

Jesus sat next to me at a restaurant the other day- or rather I sat at a table next to his. Caught unaware of my proximity to the King of Kings, I ate my chicken sandwich and slurped my Austral. He was surrounded by a bunch of dark-haired Israeli boys, more specifically, backpackers (unlike the light-skinned youthful faces of children, that the painting in my private school had lead me to believe...all those years of walking through an office hall can really engrave stereotypes into a young mind!). I’d almost finished my meal before realizing that I’d been supping with the Savior.
"Look..." I said to my husband, careful to keep my face forward, I sharply pointed with my eyes, "Jesus."
"His head is smaller than I thought." Griff replied.
"Jesus was a small man." I stated knowingly. A slight man, a humble man...¨ Humble: low to the ground; not proud
"But you’d think with all that wisdom in his brain, his head would be bigger." Griff protested (Obviously he had fallen victim to the private school hall-painting as well.)
"No. That is Jesus. He is a normal, sort of small guy."
Though I had come to terms with Jesus’ slight frame, I had not imagined him to be so "hip". Along with his flowing waves of shoulder length hair, he sported a clean set of Puma tennis shoes and blue jeans. Why not? If Madonna can keep up with the times, and Brad Pitt can still be hailed as a hottie, then Jesus can most certainly wear Pumas.
We watched as the Israelis pooled their pesos to pay the bill. The group walked away, but Jesus stayed behind to make sure the bill was covered and to thank the waiter in English. (Being in Chile, the waiter spoke Spanish. Oh well...English is the international language of business- even God’s business I guess.)
"Yes. Everything O.K. "the waiter assured the Prince of Peace and Propinas.
"Can I take this with me? "Jesus inquired further of the server, pointing to his unfinished bottle of Heineken (as if he didn’t already know the answer).
Receiving a confirming nod, Jesus walked out the door with bottle in hand. Again proving his hipnes to the times, he’d moved away from fermented grapes and on to a yeast-based beverage. As he shut the door tightly behind him, no one even looked up. No one even saw his exit. No one had even known that Jesus was there.


A Reccomnedation Against Eating Meringue While Watching "Gladiator"(Or Any Other Gory Movie for That Matter )
On the Rood Between Valparaiso, Chile and San Pedro de Atecama, Chile

So here we are again. After sixty-six days in South America, over 120 hours on busses, and having traveled thousands upon thousands of miles, we’ve reached the familiar bumps of the I-5 Freeway. The pavement feels the same under our wheels in Chile as it does in California, Oregon, and Washington. How many trips to Seattle did I make on this freeway? To Heather’s house? To the Burbank Airport? To Tijuana! Old habits are tough to break, as our eighteen hour bus ride on "The Five" now proves.
We always seem to be the only ones traveling from the very beginning of the buss’ route to the very end. In between our beginning and ending points, other people join us and leave us- their destinations so different from ours. I imagine them going home to hot meals, embracing loved ones and sleeping in a familiar bed, none of which we will be doing. The backpacker bunch still hangs on, but has thinned out quite a bit. Summer is over. A new semester has begun. People go back to work (work? what’s that?). But we just hop from bus to bus, resting and playing at the pueblos in between...and on these busses (oh so different than airplanes), another culture emerges.
In this world revolving on rubber wheels, you begin to see people in a way that you never would have in the world that revolves around a solar source. (The fat bald guy who sits kitty-corner from us, has these weird wrinkles by his ear when his head rolls in a certain direction while sleeping.) You smell people more. (A little lady who sat behind us, whom Griff called "the Gremlin", kept pulling herself up by the top of Griff’s seat. He never knew that a hand, a single body part, could have such an odor!)
When the lights go out, and sometimes even before, the bus becomes a singles bar with couples making out in every few aisle seats. I attempt to send the lovers messages with my mind, "Please! Learn how to kiss without making all those smacking sounds; it’s much more discrete and enjoyable for the rest of us." Glances are exchanges, digits are exchanged, sloppy kisses are exchanged.
And, then there are the movies, boy are there the movies! Illegal copies of movies with words flashing across the screen every fifteen minutes, reading something along the lines of, “If you are watching this, you are participating in robbery, and call this number so we can arrest you immediately." No one ever picks up their cell phones in a frantic effort to dial the given number. I would, but I never have a phone at the moment, or a pen to write down the numbers.
Then there are the really, really bad movie copies, ala Seinfeld style, with a hazy picture and shadows of people exiting to the restroom and returning from the snack bar, moving across the screen.
Almost all movies are dubbed over in Spanish, which for me, being a North American and knowing actor’s voices quite well, seems very, very wrong. “Oscar”, with Sylvester Stallone and Marissa Tomè, has by far been the worst. Sly’s image was in front of me, but it was "Jorge the voice-over guy" that I was seeing, sitting on some sound studio and timing his words perfectly to fit within his allotted space. Next to him of course, sits Maria (not to be confused with Marisa), gasping, crying, and squeaking out words in the place of Tomé.
On tonight’s trip, we sat back as he familiar "DreamWorks" intro came onto the screen, and our hearts leapt at the thought of this being a modern, well-made movie. It was "Gladiator" (dubbed over in Spanish, and done quite well, actually). We buckled down and watched, but that was it. We JUST watched, we didn’t HEAR a thing. Passengers pressed buttons, plugged in personal headphones, but nothing. "Surely someone will get up and tell the attendant that we cannot hear anything." I thought. Apparently everyone else was thinking this as well because they all just sat there- all forty-two of them! With their heads sopping in Spanish vocabulary, they sat back and watched a silent movie. I couldn’t handle it anymore. I walked to the front of the bus, and with my lame gringo accent, asked that the volume be turned on. The driver complied and as I walked back to my seat in the back (number forty-two, right next to "the can"), I expected to see smiles of gratitude, maybe even a "thumbs-up" or two, but everyone just sort of stared at me like I was no big hero or anything. They could have cared less about actually hearing the movie- six in one hand half dozen in the other. This has been a theme we’ve observed of the dear Chilean people. Don’t bother anyone, don’t act bothered, don’t go out of your way in the slightest to let someone know that something you’ve paid for is not working out as promised, it might bother them. It is a peace-making mentality, and I could grow to truly enjoy it, but not when two-and-a-half hours of an eighteen hour bus trip could be eaten up by watching Russell Crow chopping away at people...
Which leads me to the bit of fore-mentioned advice; Never eat meringue while watching anyone in any sort of media production, who is in the act of beheading, decapitating, or dismembering another’s body parts. This is especially disgusting when the maulings are based on true, historical happenings. Had I thought about the reprocusions of combining sweets with the going-ons of the Coliseum, I would have kindly declined when the little round woman, dressed all in white, passed through the aisle with her bakery basket in hand. I instead found myself squeezing my eyes closed, as hardened egg-whites and sugar dissolved in my mouth and the sounds of flesh being run-through sank into my ears. Add in the bus’ bumpy movement, and the previously mentioned proximity to the john, and you’ve got yourself a very unpleasant experience.
Gladiator eventually came to an end, and another movie prepared to play. The sound came on loud and clear this time. The music was no more than three down-beats into the intro credits before I looked at Griff with the left side of my lip up-turned and said, "Ug. This is gunna be some stupid car movie, or something with Angelina Jolie in it. A few seconds later the title sped across the screen- "Gone in 60 Seconds"- no joke, a car movie with Angelina Jolie in it. Sometimes I hate it when I’m right.

“A child who does not play is not a child, but the man who doesn't play has lost forever the child who lived in him and who he will miss terribly.” -Pablo Neruda

Just as a couple of sidenotes:
1. Some of you have written asking if there is any way to see where we are on a map. There is an icon of the country we are in on the bottom left corner of this screen. If you click on this, you can see a map of the country as well as lots of interesting facts! Additionally, you can click on the flag next to the map and read about what it symbolizes.
2.The quotes at the end of many of my blogs are not necessarily for you to "get", they are selfishly written there for me to look back on when my trip is over. They are symbolic of various legs of the journey; something I read, a museum I visited, a song that has inspired, or that has come to mind while writing my entry.

---

Photos

Mandy in Front of Pablo Neruda's House in Valparaiso
One of three of this famous poet's home...to Budda, to gouda-Pablo Neruda too! (That´s for you R, Karl, and Snaps)

Mandy Overlooking Valparaiso
This was the view from atop our hostel in Valparaiso; an old mansion that had been renovated into a hostel.

No, this is not snow....
you would not want to make any "Snow Angles" out of this stuff....SALT! It is really jagged and rough, similar in feel to coral.

Griff Hiking to Our Hidden Swimming Hole
One day we decided to skirt the crowds completely and discovered an Oasis in the middle of the dessert about 45 mins. outside of San Pedro...Griff put up with me singing "Midnight at the Oasis" about a million times that day!

Chilean Boys Catching Frogs
These four brothers beat us to our swimming hole but were such fun to watch! (there are more frogs in the bucket.)

Comments

[mimi]

Well once again you guys made me make a difficult decision...I have 30 minutes before getting ready for church...do I read the Schutt blog or do I read the Sunday paper...the Schutt's won out...so I made me a cup of tea, settled in for a visit with you guys, and enjoyed every minute of your blog...it is amazing how Jesus presents himself to us, isn't it? Keep your eyes open (as it appears that you are) and let Him use you each step of your way...we miss you and pray for your safety! love, mimi and dumpy

[Mrs. Davis]

J-e-s-u-s
Well, Tina...That's JESUS!!!