Hello, attachment.
Attached is a picture that I feel captures Valparaìso, Chile, the best. Note the two men and the right staircase...it`s someone`s front door that they decided to paint. Also, there`s a picture of my Northwest Argentina adventure that`s called from salt to salt.
Hello, scientist.
I had a midterm today that went well because last week I had a stunning hypothesis that took me on a journey to Valparaìso, Chile. Hypothesis: I will pass the midterm if and only if I study while watching a sunset on the Pacific. Variable tested: Pacific sunset vs. Atlantic sunrise. Constant variables: my pair of traveling jeans and my grey machu pichu shirt (both of which I`ve had since april 2001). Time of experiment: Six days.
Hello, traveller.
The hills of Valparaìso decided to dislodge their inhabitant and to let go of the houses on top, to let them dangle from cliffs that are red with clay, yellow with gold thimble flowers, and a fleeting green with wild vegetation. But houses and people clung to the heights, writhing, digging in, worrying, their hearts set on staying up there, hanging on, tooth and nail, to each cliff. The port is a tug-of-war between the sea and nature, untamed on the cordilleras. But it was man who won the battle little by little. The hills, and the sea`s abundance gave the city a pattern, making it uniform, not like a barracks, but with the variety of spring, its clashing colors, its resonant bustle. The houses became colors: a blend of amaranth and yellow, crimson and cobalt, green and purple.
Hello, diffuser.
Before you get too excited about my writing, the last paragraph was written by the Chilean Pablo Neruda who won the Nobel Prize for Literature, as any Chilean with a list of Nobel prize winners handy could tell you. To further diffuse, I heard Valparaìso through Radiohead`s Kid A and Maroon 5`s Songs about Jane, I wittled time away in Santiago through Keane`s Hopes and Fears, and it was Penny & Me and the Chilean and Argentine border patrols (Hanson). And I stole two ending advice poems from Gunter Grass` Dog Years, pgs 545 & 549.
Hello, polyglot.
I stayed at El Yoyo, a backpacker`s hostel with crazy cool rooms, a common kitchen, and free internet. I bought 2 avocados, a cucumber, 4 tomatoes, an onion, 3 potatoes, 3 beef buillion cubes, my special salad seasoning, salt, and olive oil. My dinners at the hostel were shared with a Belgian whose son went to college so he liquidated all his assets (car, house, bike?) and quit his job and backpacks around the world now. He was the lazy Susan if you will. For he spoke French with the two Frenchwomen, German with the Austrian and two Germans, Romansch with the Swiss, English with the Texan, Spanish with the two Mexicans and the Paraguayan Jew, and Flemish to himself when he became pensive. I`m pretty sure el Yoyo is spanish for Tower of Babel, because I mean, c`mon, that`s a lot of languages at one table. Later, the el Yoyo owner who was also, according to various signs, the plumber (Don`t throw toilet paper in the toilet! El Yoyo Plumber), the cook (Breakfast from 9 `til noon! El Yoyo cook), and other things as such. She recommended me to La Casa Roja in Santiago where I stayed for a night, not to be confused with The White House which is further north and probably costs more than 9 dollars a night to stay in, and is a rundown colonial mansion that has 16 rooms! and other great stuff.
Hello, thief.
Well, I bought a CD player because I`d sold my iPod to a friend that shortly thereafter was stolen (I`ll let you decide the subject of that horrible indirect reference). I used it for five days and on the bus ride home from Santiago to BsAs, I fell asleep listening to music and woke at 545am with my headphones still in but plugged into nothing. The bus stewardess was very helpful though, telling me not to worry and she`d take care of it (we make no stops so the thief and CD player were still on the bus). She made an announcement, "Someone has stolen this man`s CD player and if you have it, will you please give it to me." Unfortunately, no one responded and that was all she could do.
Hello, rapid fire facts.
Duration of bus ride: 24 hours there, 26 hours back.
Border crossing location: above the snowline, in middle of the Andes. Accumulated snow height approximately 6 feet. often closed due to impassability.
nature of Museo al Cielo Abierto: Chile`s finest artists painted 20something murals on houses and walls on 5 or so streets of Valpo.
nature of Valpo.: crazy colored houses populated by artists, even vandalism is cool (Amor y Caos; Tù no existes), cog trains are most-used form of public transportation, stairs instead of roads in many cases, home of chorrillanas which have fried eggs, sausages, steak, fried onions, grease, and fries and enough calories to run FOREVER.
nature of travelling pants: a whole the size of the left leg opening except underneath backpocket.
nature of email: long and tiresome but lacking deepness. so is chile. 2880 miles of coastline, but only a 3 hour drive max. from coast to argentina.
nature of my philosophical musing: why>who>where, when=0 what=1 . thought process: The where isn`t as good without people. People can make heaven hell or hell heaven. whatever that means. Moreso a day in Kansas would be awesome with friends, not so much without. Therefore who>where. Why>who because of Shakira. Imagine, it`d be great to date Shakira. But wait, who is she? I don`t know. Because I don`t know why she does what she does. The whys of a person give them depth and humanity and a glimpse into what differentiates them from all others. I could go to Chile to enjoy beauty or to stage a military coup against a socialist government. Why>who because why determines the who, unless you`re only concerned about the superficial in which case Shakira=who>why. When is zero because it doesn`t matter. What is a given so it`s one. Multiply anything by one and you get what you got. Facts are facts are facts.
Hello, ending.
Don`t write letters,
letters are filed away.
When you sign a letter,
you`re signingwhat you were yesterday.
Josh Bull
ps a helpful hint I learned while in Valpo.
Don`t drink of the sea,
it whets the appetite.
If you drink of the sea
you`ll thirst eternally for the ocean.
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