So, the delay made me miss my flight to Newark. After typical running-around-the-airport-after-missing-a-flight shenanigans, I got to Newark at 1:30pm. And have been here, in this massive airport in one of the worst states (no offense, KB/Real Housewives) of America, for the past seven hours. My 5:20pm flight to Harrisburg was canceled. So, I was on standby for the 9 o’clock.

My mom couldn’t wait longer to see me so is driving here now to take me home. I’ve been in airports for the last 26 hours and am so sick of it. I was supposed to be eating Tostitos lime chips 7 hours ago! I’m just ready for Sheetz and Pennsylvania: THE BEST COMMONWEALTH!

Although I’m heading back to the States, this blog isn’t over. Last week I was in Peru, and have some important stories and photos to share. So, keep an eye out for that and my readjustment to life in English. Some expected awkward encounters: Kissing people on the cheek to say hello, talking about people in English thinking they won’t understand, dumping salt all over my vegetables and missing eating fried dough everyday.

One fried dough delight: The Empanada

“Escuchaste las vuvuzelas?” -Coca, “No me gustan las bruselas!” -Julieta

“Did you hear the vuvuzelas?” -Coca, my Chilean mom, “I don’t like brussel sprouts!” -Julieta, my almost-3-year-old sister

Today is Chilean’s third game in the World Cup, against Spain. Shockingly, they’ve won their first two games against Honduras and Switzerland. According to Dante (Chilean host father), before this year, Chile had never won a single World Cup game. So, it’s a pretty big deal. The streets are filled with people wearing red shirts, ridiculous Chilean-flagged hats and facepaint. Cars are honking everywhere they go and a lot, A LOT of Chilean merchandise is being sold in the streets. You can’t enter a bar without hearing the cheer, “CHI CHI CH, LE LE LE. VIVA CHILE!”

I’m watching the game with my family at home, we’re having a barbecue and listening to people yelling in the streets from blocks away.

Look at my pictures for vegetarian food, and landscapes ranging from Jurassic Park to the Pacific Northwest to Fern Gully.

Pucón

Almost 5 months ago, we arrived in Chile. Due to various communication mishaps/laziness, only 3 of the 19 of us had student visas. So, we paid the $130 entrance fee and received tourist visas. These are valid for 90 days. Which means 90 days later, we decided to take a short little trip across the Andes to Mendoza, Argentina, mostly for the passport stamp, also for the biking wine tours.

Well, it was raining in Santiago, which meant it was snowing in the cordillera (mountains surrounding Stgo), and we couldn’t cross to Mendoza. Being intrepid young travelers, Cailtin, Dixie, Claire, and I decided to bus south overnight to Temuco, where we were assured we could get a bus to Argentina. It’s counter-intuitive, that in the south the pass would be clear, (Southern Hemisphere: south=colder), but it’s because the southern Andes are less high. The plan worked out, we got in to Temuco at 8, and at 8:30am we caught a bus to San Martin de los Andes, Argentina.

San Martín is an adorable little town with little Swiss-style houses, you know, the kind with white walls and exposed wooden beams. We stayed in a creaky little A-frame next to the crystal blue lake. We ate some amazing chocolate and seafood. I had squash-filled ravioli, which were amazing. We relaxed a lot and ate a lot and took a hike. We visited the most amazing wine store I’ve ever seen. It was a great vacation!

My friends decided we were “so close” to Patagonia, they might as well go from there (read: really not that close). I had a big group project and meeting on Wednesday afternoon, so I bought a ticket to leave at 6am on Tuesday back to Chile. Alas, here comes the biggest traveling mistake of my life to date: I never changed my cellphone to Argentinian time (an hour ahead), and arrived to the bus station at 7am (6am Chilean time). Woah is me. I was so angry. I didn’t get my money back, and took an 8-hour bus ride north to Neuquen (10am-6pm) at 7:30ish, I took an overnight bus through most of the country to Mendoza, arriving at 7:30am. There were a few scary moments, like when the bus drove down a dirt road lined with “Danger” signs, and because I was all by myself I could only think about how it was just like in movies before vehicles blow up.

I caught the 8am bus back to Santiago, arriving at 1:30, missing my group meeting, and having spent 28ish hours traveling on buses. Posh buses, but I still smelled pretty gross and ate too many free alfajor cookies than I care to remember.

You are all invited to greet me in Harrisburg International Airport with white cheddar Cheese-its and Stonyfield Farm chocolate yogurt at 1:37pm on Wednesday, July 14. We will immediately depart for that really-nice Sheetz at the Paxton St. exit of 83 for fried triangles of macaroni and cheese and subs.

Home is where the Sheetz is

My four-hour flight got me to Punta Arenas, a town on the Strait of Magellan. It’s the biggest city in the area and used to be home to the richest families of Patagonia. I visited their mansion-museums, where everything inside was imported from Europe. Tons of immigrants found their way to Punta Arenas in the 19th century, finally wiping out the last of the local indigenous peoples, but they still all share the public cemetery that looks like the maze from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I also visited a terrifying museum with a chilling collection of stuffed animals.

From Punta Arenas, I took a bus ride to Puerto Natales, the entryway to Torres del Paine, the most famous national park in Chile. Apparently, “entryway” is the word Chileans use to describe a 2-hour bus ride to the park. I took an old-people cruise to see glaciers, and a full day tour of the park. It was cloudy but amazing.

One of the things that made this trip special was that it was my first time traveling on my own. (Most of my friends studying abroad are running out of money, or don’t like “planning” trips two days in advance) It was basically like traveling with someone else, except:

1. You need a tv in your hostel room

2. You take a lot of MySpace pictures of yourself

Obviously, it would have been great to have shared the experience with a friend, and more activities would have been open/cheaper for two people, but it was also easier to go with the flow, and not care about any setbacks, of which there were many: I was stuck in the airport for a few hours because the buses started running at 11am. I walked 40-minutes in the pouring rain to visit a brewery that isn’t for visitors. I woke up on Monday with a major cold.

In all, it was a great trip, I saw adorable animals, guanaco and sea lions and milodons, and breath-taking sites, mountains and fjords and glaciers.

Patagonia

Bottom of the World

“Hey, Dante, leave her alone!”  – my almost-3-year-old sister to my host dad, Dante, imitating my one of my mother’s catchphrases, when my dad was mad at Isidora for breaking a cabinet. I laughed out loud. Julieta got lectured that she can only call her father “Papito Dante.” He’s been trying really hard to make “Papito” (Little Papa/Daddy) happen.

See pictures of my family, the relatively classy parts of my 21st birthday, and Latin American markets here!

Stgo