Beth, Johanna and myself decided to celebrate our last weekend before La Universidad Católica actually begins classes by going south while the weather is still nice. We took off Thursday after Spanish class for Puerto Montt, where we would then buy bus tickets to cross the Canal de Chacao by ferry and head straight to Castro, which is smack-dab in the middle of the island of Chiloé, just a ferry ride away from the mainland. After 14 hours on a bus we arrived early on Friday morning and got to Castro before noon. We were ble to walk around the city for about an hour and a half before our next bus to Cucao, where we would begin our hike in Parque Nacional de Chiloé. In Castro we were able to see the famous palafitos, which are colorful houses on stilts in the water, as well as one of Chiloé's famous painted churches, la Iglesia San Francisco.
Although the church, similarly to the palafitos, was in need of a paint job, it was still really neat to see the church entirely made of wood, and painted a salmon-y color with violet trim. I saw another church that was bright blue and yellow, pretty neat!
We then walked over to a decently sized artisan market where we were able to spend about 15 minutes until we had to run to catch our bus. We caught the bus with no problem, but this is where our adventure actually began. The views we caught of the lakes we were passing were breathtaking, and we decided to hop off the bus at the entrance to the national park, which seemed logical. Our destination was actually a small indigenous Mapuche village in Huentemó, where Lonely Planet had promised was located an hospedaje. Hospedajes are very common in Chile, especially on the island of Chiloé, and they are oftentimes a house that the dueño (owner) opens up to rent for cheap to tourists, campers, etc. during high season. They are often basic and while they may provide warm beds and showers, they are often void of toilet paper and free breakfast. Luckily the three of us stocked up on tuna, avocados, crackers, bread and plums before we left, so we had some food to last for a few days.
After pushing our way off the bus at the National Park entrance, we discovered that the Sendero (path) Cole-Cole (a 25 km trail that intersects Huentemó) was actually about a 4 hour hike down the not-so-well-beaten gravel road. The CONAF representative suggested we start walking and go "a dedo" a.k.a. hitchhike. We began walking and after getting passed up by a couple cars a bus crossed our path and took us about 10 minutes further where it then stopped and was turning back around. We paid our 300 pesos (about 70 cents) and started again. We started hiking and were surrounded first by sand dunes and the Pacific and then by other small bodies of water and we were without a clue as to what to do. We eventually saw a big dump-truck typed vehicle speed up and plow straight through the water, so I flagged down the driver and asked him if he knew how to get to Huentemó. He told us to roll up our pants and just follow the beach all the way there! So, despite a little hesitation, I rolled up my jeans as far as I could and
tried to make it through without getting wet. Unfortunately my plan failed and I was soaked. When we got to the other side it was all worth it and we were able to soak in the warm, sandy beach and the crashing waves of the ocean for the next three hours as we made our way to the hospedaje. We eventually made it there and along the way the only living creatures we saw were birds, cows and a jeep or two carting people back from who knows where. The sun was shining, the sand felt great between my toes and when we eventually arrived to the hospedaje the dueño (or his son, I'm not entirely sure who was in charge here) came out to greet us accompanied by four or five pigs. The first thing he said to us was asking our forgiveness for the 
craziness on the phone the day before, but he had just finished getting married! Had we known we would have tried our luck with some other arrangement but he insisted that we feel like family and make ourselves at home. We settled in and then took our tuna salad, avocado and cracker dinners to the beach just outside and had ourselves a nice little picnic accompanied by some huge rocks and an ocean view. There was not a lot to do at the house so I crashed pretty early and apparently went down pretty hard. As a matter of fact, had there been an earthquake I would have slept right through it. 
And I did! Johanna had been woken up when the house, our beds, etc. were shaking, but luckily my Kaufman genes kicked in and I slept straight through, completely oblivious until Johanna told me about it in the morning! Imagine that.The next morning we got up and made haste to start the walk back to the national park entrance to do a smaller hike, seeing as the 25 km Cole-Cole was out of the question. We hitched a ride with some nice Frenchmen who toted us in the back of their pick-up for about 5 minutes and after getting to the trail we ran into some nice people from California who filled us in about the Tsunami warning. The three of us were in shock when we heard the news as we had just been walking along the beach for the last 2 1/2 hours! We decided to skip the hike and get away from the coast and back to Castro as soon as humanly possible. Unfortunately we had just missed the bus and the next one was not scheduled to arrive for nearly two hours, so we decided that we would just follow the other campers and start walking, hopefully finding something along the way (if nothing else the bus would eventually meet us and we could hop on). My guardian angel was getting bombarded with prayers and within the first five minutes of our walk a jeep pulled up with a wide open backseat. I asked where they were headed and of course, just my luck, they were going to Castro. The nice, middle-aged couple gave us a lift and we were able to hear about the 8,8 (8,5 at the time) terremoto and the tsunami warning for the first time via radio. It was quite the whirlwind!
They dropped us off at the main bus terminal in Castro, and we decided it would be safest to stay there for the night so we found Hospedaje Jhovian for about $12/person and parked there. After making frantic phone calls and searching high and low for internet service, we discovered that the island was cut off from all internet and phone lines but still were able to get the news and the radio (which we could never quite figure out).
We had calmed down a bit and decided that while there was nothing we could really do, we would go try curanto, one of Chiloé's other famous assets. It is a big bowl of meat, potatoes, dumplings, clams, oysters and some sausages and is cooked in the ground in what is called a fogón, underneath piles of huge leaves. Delicioso! We shared the curanto, got some chicken and french fries, and a liter of beer to keep our spirits high while we waited for news from Antonia, our program director.
We eventually got in contact with her, spent the night in Castro and the next day got up and went to Mass at 9, got on the bus at 10:10, went to Puerto Montt to change our return tickets to Santiago and then went back to the island to stay in Ancud (a city in northern Chiloé) for the next two nights. Although that involved a lot of ferry crossing and bus riding, the ferry was no Colsac III, but the sky was clear which afforded us views of distant snow-capped mountains as well as the chance to watch the sea lions in their natural environment. 
We got back to Ancud around 20:00 (I am starting to get used to 24-hour time, and enjoying it!) without a place to stay but we had been combing through Lonely Planet and figured we could find a low-cost hospedaje without a problem. We stepped out of the bus terminal and luckily for us one man came up to us and asked if we were looking for a place to stay. 
**SIDE NOTE: This may sound sketchy, dangerous and unreliable, but it is actually very common (and helpful!) for dueños of hospedajes to go to the bus terminals and try to promote their hospedaje to unaccounted-for tourists, such as ourselves.
The cost was less than $10/person/night and included breakfast, so we decided to at least go check it out. Although the house could have easily been built 100 years ago and never refurbished or fixed-up, there were three beds in one room (which would be a first for this trip), two bathrooms, a large, fly-infested kitchen, and a big living room. We accepted, paid our 5000 pesos and headed for the kitchen to make our favorite dinner: tuna salad, tomatoes, avocado, and homemade bread from Castro. As we were finishing up, the other five people staying in the hospedaje walked through carrying boxed wine and cans of frutilla (canned and sweetened strawberries, also a very popular flavor for ice-cream, milk, candy, etc). They came back in search of a bowl to make borgoño, which is a sugary combination of red wine and frutilla, and as they were making their concoction we introduced ourselves and grasped the opportunity to practice our Castellano with them.
Their names are Juan Pablo and Sebastian and they shared the borgoño with us in a friendly setting as we chatted in the living room. We were delighted to practice our spanish with them and Juan P was equally as excited to learn some english from us. We soon discovered that they are santianguiños (citizens of Santiago) as well and before heading to bed we exchanged numbers with the hopes of meeting up sometime in Santiago for personal tours and some language practice. 
The next morning we got up at around 6:15 so we could catch us a bus out to Puñihuil (puhn-YEE-will), which means "strong winds," and see the penguins. This was something we had really been looking forward to doing since the beginning of the trip, so it was exciting to actually have the opportunity. The bus dropped us off about a 1/2 hour hike from the beach so we started walking, watching the sun rise and the moon slowly disappear. The sky and scenery were beautiful and we got to Playa Puñihuil around 8:00 and soon found out that the first tour was not until 10:00. We tried devising a way to get out to the islotes (small islands, essentially just huge rocks with grass growing on them where the penguins live) without having to pay for a tour, but a couple of friendly fishermen came up to us and gave us a good deal for a private tour in their special boat. They took us out in their extremely shabby boat, taught us about the penguins and we were able to see them before they all went under to go fish for the day.
The two types of penguins that live in this colony are the Humboldt (which are nearly extinct) and the Magellanic. In the end of March they all leave, half of them traveling up north to Peru and the other half down south to Punta Arenas. After the boat tour we had some time to kill until the next bus, as the story often goes, so we decided to explore one of the trails. We ended up finding one of the most beautiful and secluded places on the island and had it all to ourselves.
After ogling over the ocean and countryside for a bit we made our way back up to the bus stop and waited for it to come tote us back to Ancud. We got back to the hospedaje and found Juan P and Sebastian watching the news so we decided that we should all go find something to do as a distraction. In Ancud finding that "something" is not such an easy task, especially after an enormous earthquake. Nonetheless, we went to Fuerte San Antonio, Spain's last Chilean outpost built in the early 19th century.
After seeing the canons we walked around the city and eventually wound up in a pool hall and played "poolina" (the crazy Chilean version of billiards) for a while. After taking about an hour and a half to finish one game we decided to get the heck out of there and go make some dinner. We braved the supermarket which was bursting at the seams with people, and got some ingredients so Sebastian could make us his favorite pasta dish. Finally, a dinner that did not consist of tuna salad! Although I love a good tuna sandwich it was certainly a nice change. We enjoyed the last night in Ancud and left in the morning for Puerto Montt where we would hopefully obtain bus tickets for that day back to Santiago.
We got our bus tickets, bummed around Puerto Montt for the day, dodged some huge stray dogs and at 11:00 boarded our bus back home. I have now been back for a couple of days; Las Condes seems to be rather unaffected by the quake and everything in Mama Maria's house is just fine. I have yet to actually see any of Santiago's real damage, and to be honest I am a little nervous. Last weekend we planned a trip and booked a hostel for a trip to Mendoza, Argentina for this weekend, so unfortunately my efforts will have to wait until I get back, but we are all itchin' to pitch in (yes that rhyme was intentional) and do whatever we can. It seems as though most of the efforts right now are to get food, basic necessities such as soap, toothpaste, toothbrushes, sleeping bags, tents, milk and water to those in need and I have seen a lot of campaigns beginning and doing their part. During the time it has taken me to write this I felt three tremors from the aftershock, each lasting about 5-10 seconds, which will likely continue for a couple of months after the initial quake. I am sure they were mere ants in comparison to what happened here on Saturday but just feeling the ground move and knowing that there is nothing you can do about it is quite a sensation!
Well that is all for now, I will be sure to keep you all updated as we uncover more about our shifting tectonic plates (Pun intended)!
¡Besitos!
Kelsey! It looks like you are having a grand time..you get to travel SO much and I hope you realize how lucky you are to be doing that! :) We have to skype veryyyyy soon! I miss you! Te quiero chiquita...BESOS! :)
ReplyDelete--Kristin