Santiago, Chile (New Years Eve)
So I landed in Santiago on New Years Eve. This was not my plan. It is just that I wanted to be out of California before 2018, and this particular flight was relatively cheap. Halfway through my flight, I had the realization that nothing will be open when I land, so I started to second guess this choice, but in the end, all worked out the way it should have, and I had a fantastic New Years.
Coming out of the airport, I had to run the gauntlet of taxi cab drivers waiting at the exit from the baggage claim. Usually, I would completely ignore them, but I knew that I had to get to my hostel somehow, and I was going to have to take a taxi to do so. I also needed to get a SIMM card for my phone to make local calls, as well as change my US dollars to Chilean Pesos, so as I ran the gauntlet, a lowered my defenses a little bit, and concluded that one of these fine gentlemen could actually assist me in this endeavor.
The most aggressive of the taxi cab drivers got my attention, and I told him in broken Spanglish that I needed a SIMM card for my phone. After he set me up with a SIMM card, and helped me change my money (which I really did not need help with), he introduced me to the actual cab driver. He took 5000 Chilean Pesos (a little more than eight US dollars) from the cab driver, and proceeded to request a tip from me. My thinking was that his payment was me picking him out of all of the taxi cab drivers that I had passed, and he should feel lucky or grateful, even though he provided some additional services. I gave him 2000 Chilean Pesos, and he gave me this look like that it was not nearly enough, and told me that he needed more. I didn't back down and told him that he got 5000 Pesos from the actual cab driver and that he should feel lucky I gave him extra. He said something to me in Spanish as I walked away (I'm assuming something like cheap ass), and the cab driver just looked back and shrugged his shoulders as if to say that there is nothing he could do. I did feel a little bad, knowing that the cost of living in Chile is similar to the US, and second guessed whether I should have given him more. But again, he made 10 bucks in about 20 minutes, so my feeling of guilt quickly evaporated.
As we approached the city center, Santiago appeared to be like any other big city, but I discovered later that it is much more, and is a vibrant and energetic city that would be an awesome place to reside, especially if you spoken language is Spanish.
I arrived at my hostel around 7pm-ish, and was greeted by a very empty reception desk, so given that it was New Year's Eve, it seemed about right to me. I patiently waited there for 5 minutes or so before I decided to investigate. I walked to the backyard where I heard the sound of people, and spoke to them in broken English, "check-in," not really knowing if they worked for the hostel or were guests. I was soon accommodated by one of the men and was shown my room, which had 3 bunk beds and an extra bed. I was also given a bath towel, which was a nice surprise, because usually you have to supply your own towels at hostels. I picked the top bunk, I'm not sure why, since I am not as spry as I used to be. It's just something that I have done my whole life
I got myself situated, and around 10 o'clock I felt my first pang of hunger. There were people barbecuing in the backyard at this point, so the thought did cross my mind that perhaps this was a special New Year's barbecue for the guests. It smelled so good. I asked one of the workers if guests were invited, and he told me, sorry no, it is just for the workers. I made a sad face, and it was then that I came to the realization that I was on my own, and perhaps showing up on New Years Eve in Santiago was not such a great idea. So, I decided to go hunt for as nothing is open on New Years Eve, so I thought. I briefly eyed the cornflakes sitting in the middle of the dining area, and told myself "no way," I may be starving, but I am not emaciated yet. I then ventured out into the night.
After about a half hour of wandering about, I eventually stumbled upon a gas station, and ordered a cheese empanada. They heated it up, but only on the outside. So I ate an empanada with cold cheesy insides. Not every appetizing, but I was grateful to find something other than cornflakes to eat. After my much needed nourishment, I spotted a huge hill with a lighted statue, which piqued my interest. I would later learn that this was Cerro San Cristobal, a landmark surrounded by Santiago on all sides.
Having found no way up the hill in the darkness, I turned around, and continued walking further up the street until it was midnight, at which time fireworks went off in the distance as people started streaming out of apartment buildings. I am still a passive observer at this point, taking in the energy surrounding me.
After the fireworks were over, I fully expected the city to just shutdown and go to sleep (kind of like Irvine), so I wandered back to my hostel, perhaps to do some work, only to hear a raging party in the backyard.
Not having an invitation, I decided to head out again into the darkness of the city, so I went the opposite direction towards downtown, which I didn't know was downtown until I was there. The city was pumping and very much alive. And there was plenty of food there. There were parties going on everywhere, with restaurant owners transforming their spaces into private party places.
Nobody had gone to sleep. I wandered through the hoards of people, again taking in all of the energy as just a passive observer, until I came upon a street that I can only describe as being New Orleans's Bourbon street of Santiago. There was a line of dance clubs and bars that stretched a few hundred yards. It was pandemonium.
Having had my fill of New Years, around 3am I returned to my hostel, believing that the party there had died down. But nope, it was raging even more. Flabbergasted, I decided to go up to my room, but before I could do so, some guy roped me into the party. I told him that I thought the party was a private one to which I was not invited. But I guess that's how all parties start. They are closed to strangers until they are not.
I sheepishly walked into the backyard to the bar area, as if I didn't belong, but right away, two of the locals began talking to me. Although there was no food left, one of the guys gave me his drink, which he referred to as a piscola. Did I hear right? Piss and cola I said? No, it is a combination of Pisco (Chile's national alcohol) and cola--akin to rum and coke. It was yummy.
So I drank piscolas and spoke Spanglish to the locals past the break of dawn--about 8am. I couldn't believe it with the sun rose. I am not sure exactly what I talked about for 5 hours, but apparently, I got them laughing a lot--I think laughing with me, not at me. I was the token American there. Oh yes. That was one thing we talked about. I was asked why do people from the United States refer to themselves as Americans when everyone in North America and South America are technically Americans? Good question, but I couldn't give them a good answer other than that's what people call us.
Oh, I got one very useful tidbit of information from one of the locals at the party. I mentioned that it was really expensive to fly from city to city in Chile. He mentioned that I should look at the local airlines, which I did later on. Big difference between $500-$600 and $100, so that really changed my strategy for traveling long distance in Chile. I will be flying when it makes sense.
Only when the organizer shut down the party, were people forced to leave. I certainly did not expect the night to end like that, and I reveled in the fact that I was just not a passive observer of a Chilean New Year's celebration, but actually took an active part in it, even though initially against my will. These Chileans know how to ring in the New Year. All in all, it was unexpectedly a really good and unique New Years for me.
I was happy to call it a morning, and slept until past noon.
#Chilean New Years #Santiago New Years #New Years in Santiago
Coming out of the airport, I had to run the gauntlet of taxi cab drivers waiting at the exit from the baggage claim. Usually, I would completely ignore them, but I knew that I had to get to my hostel somehow, and I was going to have to take a taxi to do so. I also needed to get a SIMM card for my phone to make local calls, as well as change my US dollars to Chilean Pesos, so as I ran the gauntlet, a lowered my defenses a little bit, and concluded that one of these fine gentlemen could actually assist me in this endeavor.
The most aggressive of the taxi cab drivers got my attention, and I told him in broken Spanglish that I needed a SIMM card for my phone. After he set me up with a SIMM card, and helped me change my money (which I really did not need help with), he introduced me to the actual cab driver. He took 5000 Chilean Pesos (a little more than eight US dollars) from the cab driver, and proceeded to request a tip from me. My thinking was that his payment was me picking him out of all of the taxi cab drivers that I had passed, and he should feel lucky or grateful, even though he provided some additional services. I gave him 2000 Chilean Pesos, and he gave me this look like that it was not nearly enough, and told me that he needed more. I didn't back down and told him that he got 5000 Pesos from the actual cab driver and that he should feel lucky I gave him extra. He said something to me in Spanish as I walked away (I'm assuming something like cheap ass), and the cab driver just looked back and shrugged his shoulders as if to say that there is nothing he could do. I did feel a little bad, knowing that the cost of living in Chile is similar to the US, and second guessed whether I should have given him more. But again, he made 10 bucks in about 20 minutes, so my feeling of guilt quickly evaporated.
As we approached the city center, Santiago appeared to be like any other big city, but I discovered later that it is much more, and is a vibrant and energetic city that would be an awesome place to reside, especially if you spoken language is Spanish.
I arrived at my hostel around 7pm-ish, and was greeted by a very empty reception desk, so given that it was New Year's Eve, it seemed about right to me. I patiently waited there for 5 minutes or so before I decided to investigate. I walked to the backyard where I heard the sound of people, and spoke to them in broken English, "check-in," not really knowing if they worked for the hostel or were guests. I was soon accommodated by one of the men and was shown my room, which had 3 bunk beds and an extra bed. I was also given a bath towel, which was a nice surprise, because usually you have to supply your own towels at hostels. I picked the top bunk, I'm not sure why, since I am not as spry as I used to be. It's just something that I have done my whole life
I got myself situated, and around 10 o'clock I felt my first pang of hunger. There were people barbecuing in the backyard at this point, so the thought did cross my mind that perhaps this was a special New Year's barbecue for the guests. It smelled so good. I asked one of the workers if guests were invited, and he told me, sorry no, it is just for the workers. I made a sad face, and it was then that I came to the realization that I was on my own, and perhaps showing up on New Years Eve in Santiago was not such a great idea. So, I decided to go hunt for as nothing is open on New Years Eve, so I thought. I briefly eyed the cornflakes sitting in the middle of the dining area, and told myself "no way," I may be starving, but I am not emaciated yet. I then ventured out into the night.
 |
| See the cornflakes? |
After about a half hour of wandering about, I eventually stumbled upon a gas station, and ordered a cheese empanada. They heated it up, but only on the outside. So I ate an empanada with cold cheesy insides. Not every appetizing, but I was grateful to find something other than cornflakes to eat. After my much needed nourishment, I spotted a huge hill with a lighted statue, which piqued my interest. I would later learn that this was Cerro San Cristobal, a landmark surrounded by Santiago on all sides.
 |
| Cerro San Cristobal in daytime |
Having found no way up the hill in the darkness, I turned around, and continued walking further up the street until it was midnight, at which time fireworks went off in the distance as people started streaming out of apartment buildings. I am still a passive observer at this point, taking in the energy surrounding me.
After the fireworks were over, I fully expected the city to just shutdown and go to sleep (kind of like Irvine), so I wandered back to my hostel, perhaps to do some work, only to hear a raging party in the backyard.
Not having an invitation, I decided to head out again into the darkness of the city, so I went the opposite direction towards downtown, which I didn't know was downtown until I was there. The city was pumping and very much alive. And there was plenty of food there. There were parties going on everywhere, with restaurant owners transforming their spaces into private party places.
Nobody had gone to sleep. I wandered through the hoards of people, again taking in all of the energy as just a passive observer, until I came upon a street that I can only describe as being New Orleans's Bourbon street of Santiago. There was a line of dance clubs and bars that stretched a few hundred yards. It was pandemonium.
Having had my fill of New Years, around 3am I returned to my hostel, believing that the party there had died down. But nope, it was raging even more. Flabbergasted, I decided to go up to my room, but before I could do so, some guy roped me into the party. I told him that I thought the party was a private one to which I was not invited. But I guess that's how all parties start. They are closed to strangers until they are not.
I sheepishly walked into the backyard to the bar area, as if I didn't belong, but right away, two of the locals began talking to me. Although there was no food left, one of the guys gave me his drink, which he referred to as a piscola. Did I hear right? Piss and cola I said? No, it is a combination of Pisco (Chile's national alcohol) and cola--akin to rum and coke. It was yummy.
So I drank piscolas and spoke Spanglish to the locals past the break of dawn--about 8am. I couldn't believe it with the sun rose. I am not sure exactly what I talked about for 5 hours, but apparently, I got them laughing a lot--I think laughing with me, not at me. I was the token American there. Oh yes. That was one thing we talked about. I was asked why do people from the United States refer to themselves as Americans when everyone in North America and South America are technically Americans? Good question, but I couldn't give them a good answer other than that's what people call us.
Oh, I got one very useful tidbit of information from one of the locals at the party. I mentioned that it was really expensive to fly from city to city in Chile. He mentioned that I should look at the local airlines, which I did later on. Big difference between $500-$600 and $100, so that really changed my strategy for traveling long distance in Chile. I will be flying when it makes sense.
Only when the organizer shut down the party, were people forced to leave. I certainly did not expect the night to end like that, and I reveled in the fact that I was just not a passive observer of a Chilean New Year's celebration, but actually took an active part in it, even though initially against my will. These Chileans know how to ring in the New Year. All in all, it was unexpectedly a really good and unique New Years for me.
I was happy to call it a morning, and slept until past noon.
#Chilean New Years #Santiago New Years #New Years in Santiago
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