The flight was uneventful and, though I did miss the pleasure of seeing the Andes below, my aisle seat was a lifesaver—my back will surely thank me for the multiple stretching sessions I indulged in every few hours.
I was a bit nervous when I disembarked—I never like going through customs and I was carrying a huge bag of goodies selected by someone else. Chile is very proud and protective of its pest-free environment, so the department of agriculture’s checkpoint is even more severe that the police/security check.
The bad news was that the, very kind, gentleman at the gate noticed that my arrival the preceding year coincided with the quake: a period during which they were waiving the reciprocity fee. So this time, I had to pony up USD132 to get in, ouch. Well, at least it’s good for a while, so I guess I just have to come back now 😉
The good news is that, though I checked the “yes, I think I’m carrying weird shit” box on the declaration form, after a few quick questions and zero inspection, I was officially In Chile.
A’s warm greeting was much appreciated. I had the honour of being the first of our northerly bunch to actually meet his girlfriend, and she’s very nice: she spent half the time trying to set me up with someone she knew to get a rebate on a phone, a simcard, pretty much everything I’d be looking for.
We took a regular city bus to the centre, which dropped us of at the Pajaritos (the birds) metro station on the western tip of the system. The ride was a bit of a pain with all the luggage, and the walk from Nuble to our destination seemed a lot longer than usual, but soon we were greeted by a friendly family, at L and A’s grandmother’s.
After chatting, lunching and showering, I found I still had energy to get some stuff done so I enquired on the best way to get to the corner of Irarrazaval and Pedro de Valdivia. My goal: the offices of the Servicio d’Impuestos Internos (SII). I don’t know if it’s a residue from the Pinochet days, but the bureaucracy in Chile is at times rather heavy. The RUT, Chile’s version of a social security number, is used for tax purposes… and a whole lot more. You use your RUT when setting up a phone, when registering to get newspaper deliveries and generally for lots of things that seem a little creepy to me.
I’d been thinking of opening a bank account and getting a phone, and maybe more involved things in the future, and a RUT would be most useful. So, I got a lift in a comuno—a cross between a taxi and a bus, basically a taxi with a fixed route—to someplace near my destination. I was hoping to get there before 4pm, since government offices have a tendency to close up shop nice and early, and was shaving it a bit close.
I made it to the SII in time… but I think I’d just picked that deadline straight out of the post-flight haze enveloping my head. Office hours: 09h00 to 14h00. I was two hours late, hum.
I knew the Irarrazaval metro station was somewhere west, so I decided to take my first independent ride on un micro (the bus, but the intra-city type). For something that’s supposed to be micro, these things are huge jointed beasts with four (or more?) sets of doors.
It wasn’t too obvious which bus I should be taking. They all have little signs detailing their route but since the street and the subway station have the same name, it wasn’t all that clear.
I asked a girl who basically said, “yeah, it’s one of the buses at least, not sure which… check the signs”. Ok. Took my chances on the fourth bus to show up—the 403 I believe—and asked the driver. Yep, stops at both Irarrazaval and Santa Lucia. The bus was spacious and seemed to have more standing room than seats. A street vendor embarked and offered a platter of dulces and chocolate bars around, then decided to hover around me for some reason.
Santa Lucia would be closer to downtown, but I was eager to get back to the familiar so when I saw a bunch of people getting off, I headed to the front of the bus. Seeing me, the driver remember my question and asked “el metro?” . Yeah, was the right place.
The original plan was to stop of at Chucrut—a small bar in barrio Brasil that we were fond of last time around—and have a cerveza on the terasse. But the grey weather and the advancing day was telling me barrio Brasil wouldn’t be all that fun today. So I randomly hoped off at Universidad de Chile, hoping to take in a little crowd action by walking the pedestrian streets towards Plaza de Armas.
As I walked down the street, I felt that something was wrong. Less population because it was a grey Monday made sense, but this was almost empty and seemed more downtrodden than I remembered.
Finally, it dawned on my that I was heading the wrong way—south—which explained everything.
A quick stop at the St*rbucks, near La Moneda, to get some connectivity and caffeine and I headed out to the pedestrian Ahumada… that was much better—lots of people (relatively) bad weather notwithstanding. Wandered up to Plaza de Armas, where a street comedian was performing bits about Adam&Eve for a large crowd… Not my style, and I was having trouble catching onto the subtleties, so I decided to go eastward and check out the patios on Pio Nono.
Got my first litre of Escudo at Bar La Nona. They also have wifi, which I can’t seem to get enough of, though it took me four attempts to get the key right: jorge! A dancing drummer stopped by and spun around wildly as he played his funky beat, coming within a foot of smashing a few people with his basedrum.
I don’t know if it was fatigue, but that litre hit me pretty hard and I ambled back down to baquedano station and went to the temporary HQ in Nunoa.
The evening is always a bit of a party in these parts, and a bunch of family were around chatting and having la onces (the elevens, a late night snack). Ariel, a cousin (or is it nephew?) that we’d met and had fun with last time around, came by and got to practice his English with me a bit. He insisted I walk down the street to meet his brother, Jorge (a name I now know how to spell, heh), which was fine by me but it turns out he was in the neighbourhood attending a wake.
We walked a few streets and came upon a group of around 60 people, standing outside talking, who had come for the wake of a well-loved local granddad. I met Jorge, as well as a few friends. A nice bunch but I was glad to have been introduced as a family friend, as the youths had a certain air of… let’s say danger. They all expressed surprise that L would “let me” make this trip alone, an attitude far removed from my own but I caught on to why their pololas might not be so open to the idea… it took all of two minutes for a few of them to offer to hook me up with some nice local chicas!
After a while, Jorge and Peter offered to take me out on the town Wednesday evening. I was unsure but accepted the offer, hoping I’d get to see some sides of Santiago normally unavailable. On the way back, Ariel made sure that I was actually interested, and not simply pressured into it, and reassured me that they were both straight up guys. Well, his brother anyway… should be interesting.