Pictures from Patagonia - Torres Del Paine

Mountain



Hiking to our last campsite



Break for Lunch



Campsite View



A Nice View




A Nice Lake



THE Torres Del Paine



Part of the Hike



Glacier Grey



My Piece of the Glacier



Waiting for the Bus

Anywhere

Christmas day has never felt so unreal. I've been back in the United States for 11 days now, yet I am still re-adjusting to "my culture." Last night, my dear friend Kortney reminded me that I was not raised in the US (I was, but she used to joke around and say that my home was like an environment outside of the US; almost a mix of European, South American, Asian, and the unusual ways of my parents). Her comment made me wonder about my re-adjustment process. That I might never re-adjust because I was never completely involved. It's a pleasant and discomforting feeling to be in such a "limbo." For example, when I miss speaking Spanish I turn to my mother and am reminded my study abroad experience, and my Colombian culture. On the other hand, I now automatically - and passively - resist all those things that remind me of exploitation.

So my mom put up the red and green decorations, we, as usual, don't have a Christmas tree, friends and family are calling and texting, but something is lost about the holiday. Perhaps I still feel as though I'm up in the air: In a small airplane cabin flying between two cultures - two worlds. And though they both have shaped my life, occupying the space in between the two removes the meaning that they once had. And so the space we inhabit as cross-cultural individuals may be less of a limbo, and more of a possibility, for I suppose I can go anywhere now.

NYC, USA

Well, I'm back in my belovéd patria, and though I'm experiencing some reverse culture shock/unpleasant reminders of my past lifestyle, it is wonderful to be home in the city. My first two days in the New York were spent showing Katrina around my corners of the city. We did some Brooklyn touring, some downtown Manhattan touring, and even saw a Broadway show. It was such a treat to walk around my favorite places with one of my favorite people.

Though I'm a little more settled in, I'm still having trouble adjusting to New York City in December. When I left Santiago, it was about 30 degrees centigrade, and I was feeling quite comfortable in my Chilean life. Now, it's about 2 degrees centigrade, and everything feels extremely expensive and some things even feel excessive. I'm very reluctant to buy food that I don't need; to take the train ($2.25!); and to talk on the phone because I'm used to having a crappy pay-as-you-go phone that no one ever called or texted. I was particularly shocked by the amount of amount of fruit that is available: In Santiago, my host mom, Alejandra, never bought fruit that wasn't in season, and the fruit that was available was not the best quality because Chile exports all their good fruit to the United States. Such are our privileges in the world super power. And though I always knew this, the reality becomes more painful as I happily travel back and forth between the dominant and the dominated, connecting with people in both places, and wishing that exploitation didn't permeate the definition of our differences.

Since I am back in New York City, I will probably be blogging less, though I will post any updates that some might find interesting. Now that I have computer access, I'll also post some pictures from my Chilean adventures.

The End of the Continent, The Top of the World

Again, sorry for the extreme delay. Being without a computer + 4 essays + 1 exams + making travel plans + 2 stomach viruses = minimal time to blog. Anyway, I think I´m finally done with this semester. I will be back in New York City next Monday - whoohoo! I am quite excited to be back home, and to take a rest from a year of traveling.

Last week I took my epic trip to Patagonia to see the Torres Del Paine. Our flight arrived at around 4am, and though it was already light outside, we slept in the airport until taxis arrived to take us to the closest town. Two bus rides later, we were in beautiful national park, ready for five days of camping and hiking. After the walk to the first campsite with my (cheaply made, and quite heavy) backpack, the first night of no sleep in the freezing (apx 0 degrees centigrade) cold tent, and the six hour (8 hour? I don´t really remember) day hike to see las Torres del Paine, I didn´t think I´d last another four days. But I did. I actually slept when I switched to the tiny, and tropically warm tent with my Australian buddies; I took some weight off my shoulders when Aaron suggested that we switch bags; and I made it through the hot (like spring hot), sunny (sun burn sunny), cold (like fall cold), and windy (wind burn wind) day hikes by singing to my feet on the rocky trails.
Though getting in shape via nature hike is always fun, I most enjoyed spending time setting up camp and eating meals with my fellow hikers. On the last day we walked several miles to see the famoso Glacier Grey. When we saw it in full view, Row turned to me and asked if it was better than a postcard. He was referring to the first day hike we took in which I, in an exhausted frenzy, sassily said, "I bet it looks like a postcard." Apparently it was a "buzz kill," and although most of Torres Del Paine looked like a postcard (everything beautiful looks like a postcard, right?) there is something very special about being a part of such a grand image, especially when it is at the end of the continent that you call your own. It also really puts the whole global warming thing into perspective. Lost in our speedy modernity, we melt something that exists so peacefully, and so beautifully as the home of our destruction.

I didn´t take many pictures, but the others did. I will post my own as soon as possible, but for now, check out the Book of Faces.

More later.
Peace