Bienvenidos a Chile, Mama Wolff y mi hermanita!!

Dear family and friends,

Today, I celebrate my 20-week anniversary of living in Chile by beginning another adventure, this time to the northern region, home to the world’s driest desert, the Atacama. I can’t wait to tell you all about that trip when I return next week (in JUNE!!). But now, I’d love to talk about the special week I got to spend with my mom and sister, whose visit to Chile (May 16^th-23^rd) was absolutely wonderful! [If you’re short on time and want the photo version of the story OR if you’re really awesome and want to cross-reference photos while reading this narrative, I invite you to head to my Picasa site at this point. The link can be found to the right.]

The girlies’ plane landed in Santiago at 7:40a.m. last Saturday, so I got up early, got on the bus to the airport, and waited eagerly for them at the Arrivals gate. I could barely handle my excitement—in the days leading up to their visit, especially the night before, I’d been thinking constantly about all the great things I wanted to share with them. I watched dozens of families, friends, and couples reunite while I waited, which was a beautiful thing (cue “Love Actually”), but each time the glass doors opened up to spit out another arrival, I wondered why my arrivals weren’t emerging. Finally, after what seemed like forever (but was really less than an hour), two lovely gringa women appeared, hauling several massive pieces of luggage and looking traveled but eager. A huge grin spread across my face immediately and an excited chill rushed through my whole body. My family was here!

I waved to Mom and Britt from a floor above, where I’d been standing in order to get a bird’s eye view of the place. Mom spotted me and let out one of her trademark squeals (I know you all know the one…), and I hurried down the flight of stairs, right into her arms. Of couuuuurse she started crying and shaking, which made me emotional too. As it turns out, half of her emotional display was due to the fact that they’d almost been delayed in getting to me by about 24 hours and she was just so happy that hadn’t happened; miraculously, although they almost missed their connection in Dallas and had already begun dealing with the fact that they’d be spending the night in Texas and arriving in Chile an entire day later, their second flight had been delayed just enough to allow them to run onto that plane. Mom and Britt were sure, though, that their luggage would never make that quick transfer, so when they saw their bags plop out onto the conveyer belt at luggage claim, they couldn’t believe their good fortune. It was absolutely surreal that they were standing in front of me, in Chile, after months of being so far away—and after quite the journey!

We got ourselves to my host family’s home, where we found the dining room table set and Carolina, in her pajamas, bustling around the kitchen preparing toast and tea. Gladys, who had also gone to the airport that morning for work (she’d actually waited with me at the Arrivals gate for awhile before having to return to the store), had called Carolina to tell her that we’d be going to the house and, in perfect keeping with her usual character, she’d instructed Carolina to wake up, greet us, and offer something to eat. Of course, there’s no such thing as offering; in my house, if someone makes you food, you sit down and eat it—hungry or not—which is exactly what I told Mom and Britt. Thus, we found ourselves sitting with Carolina at the table, sipping tea and enjoying some bread and jam—something I’ve done a hundred times here but not with my mom and sister!!

Our next task was organizing luggage. Mom and Brittany had brought me several things I’d requested—mostly autumn/winter clothes to swap for my summer stuff here but also a book I wanted, lots of Orbit gum (!!), a HUGE container of JIF peanut butter (!!x100), and a stack of People magazines—my much-missed guilty pleasure. They also had a few surprises in tow, including some late Valentine’s Day cards (thank you, Grandpa and Tessie), chocolates and goodies from the Easter Bunny, and a thoughtful gift for my host family—Oaks chocolate and the Willow Tree angel holding the heart, because my mom once said she believed Gladys to have “a mother’s heart” (which she does, as does my mother). Things seemed so nonchalant—the three of us in my room, rifling through bags and drawers and sorting things out—but I still couldn’t believe that out of the smoggy sky had appeared my mom and sister, and here they were in my Santiago room.

We finished organizing and decided that we were all awake enough to do a little downtown strolling before making our way to our hotel in Providencia (about fifteen minutes away on the Metro). I took them to Bravisimo, where they tried (and LOVED) their first Chilean ice cream. Then we went to Cerro Santa Lucia, which remains one of my favorite Santiago oases for its tall, lush palm trees, cobblestone pathways, and the bright yellow colonial-style building that seems to wrap around the hill several times. Mom and Brittany loved it and were surprised that such a location would be found in the middle of a huge, noisy, dirty city, and I told them that, in fact, Santiago had been founded (by Pedro de Valdivia, if you’re quizzing me) in this very location. We made our way to the top, where we were blessed with the best view of the mountains I’ve ever had from there—snow-caps and all! The weather was beautiful, the sun was starting to fade, and the cordillera (the Spanish word for “mountain range,” which I think is a much better way to describe something so gorgeous) seemed to be saying, “Welcome to Santiago!”

After passing by La Moneda (I had a nice little chat with the guard about why we couldn’t get in at that particular moment, which humored my mom), we made our way back to my house, grabbed a cab, and got ourselves to our hotel. Our room turned out to be just perfect for us, complete with a bathroom, small dining room table, two beds and a pull-out, and a kitchenette. We organized our things and then decided it was time for dinner. Lizzie joined us at El Huerto, an adorable vegetarian restaurant and one of our favorite spots in town, and we all had yummy meals along with some sangria. Although Mom and Brittany were exhausted at this point, they agreed to tough it out awhile longer. I’d proposed a quick visit to Pub 36.5, where we are now somewhat-friends with Ali’s former guitar-playing companion who continues to amaze us each time we see him perform. I also wanted to introduce Mom and B to Piscola (!), but as it turns out, Mom is not a fan. Although I find this stance to be rather blasphemous, I respectfully drank hers for her… and enjoyed it.

We absolutely crashed that night, which was much needed for all of us. Sunday was slated to be a relaxing day: Mass at the top of Cerro San Cristobol (where Mom and Britt got to ride the teleferico, see the huge statue of the Virgin, and see a rather smoggy Santiago from the highest point in town), followed by lunch and a stroll through the park and whatever-struck-our-fancy that evening. San Cristobol was enchanting, as always, and I loved the Mass, although I think I probably got more out of the homily than did my mom, whose Spanish repertoire includes useful phrases such as “Open your mouth,” “Does it hurt?”, “Excuse me” (we’ll count it, even if she never totally mastered it, Britt!) and “Nice to meet you.” The first two phrases are products of her mission trips to Bolivia and the Dominican Republic and were really not that useful here, though my host family did get a kick out of her dental-themed vocabulary.

My good friend Jill joined us for the morning, which was really nice, and we had sandwiches in the park before leaving the hill and strolling down the quiet, residential street leading back to the hotel. Along the way, we were able to spot some gorgeous fall colors on some of the trees’ leaves, which made me happy because I hadn’t seen much of that downtown as of late. However, it should be noted that I am having some serious issues trying to comprehend autumn in a context that does not include all-things-pumpkin-flavored; it’s not easy for me and, as Molly Henry can attest, this place is in severe need of a Milwaukee Public Market muffin and some phenomenal pumpkin and chocolate chip pancakes. Anyway, we decided a nap was in order, so we took care of that matter of business and made plans to meet up with Esteban later that night at Parque Arauco, a classy shopping center that Chileans seem to be really proud of.

There’s not much open on Sunday nights, so it seemed like a decent idea to go there, though I had no idea we’d have so much fun! In accordance with our mission to have ice cream every day, we sought out the mall’s YogenFruz (something we really ought to have in the States!), where Mom and Britt discovered the wonders of fruit+natural yogurt+manjar bits. Esteban and my family got acquainted a bit while we sat at a table obsessing over our treats (for Mom, this meant spying cute children across the room and declaring them “yummy”). Because food is a hobby of ours, we ended up eating at a delicious Peruvian restaurant called El Otro Sitio, where we enjoyed Pisco Sours (Mom much preferred this take on the pisco idea) and some pleasant conversation before going BOWLING—yes, bowling in Chile—in an alley in the same mall. Esteban and his hot pink ball defeated me, and I officially owe him Bravisimo as a result, but Mom was the star of the show. We had a great time and, after a quick stop at Esteban’s house and a generous ride back to our hotel, we slept well again.

This time, we didn’t have to get up for anything! We were lazy Monday morning, but when we finally got moving, we ended up at the Plaza de Armas, where Mom and Britt got to see the Catedral Metropolitana, the old post office, and the energy of the city center. We headed to my University after that, and I enjoyed showing them around (though it only takes about 5 minutes!) because UAH is really quite beautiful. We sat and chatted with Isabel, my program coordinator, for a little bit before making a pit stop at my house and then heading back to the hotel. We made dinner that night—a yummy vegetable stir fry!—and took it easy until it was time to go to volleyball practice. It was important to me that Mom and Brittany get a chance to see all the “normal” parts of my life here, including my host family, my home, my neighborhood, the university, and volleyball practice. The team was excited to have the younger Wolff partake in our practice that night, and it was fun having Britt play, though I know it was a challenge for her (as it was for me in the beginning and still sometimes is) because playing in Spanish is just a bit different! Mom watched, which I don’t think bored her toooo much, and they both got to meet my dear Yolanda and my volleyball coach, Gabriel, which was cool.

We had to get up the next morning to go to my 10:00 class, something I also wanted to share with Britt, who is studying Spanish herself. I love Marcelo’s Poesía class everyday, but it was especially relevant to Britt’s visit that day because we talked all about the dictatorship in Chile and the effects it continues to have on the country, something that I tried to explain to Mom and Brittany but nowhere near as thoroughly as is necessary to fully understand this country’s current political, social, and economic situation. The dictatorship puts everything in context. Anyway, after class ended, we retrieved Mom, who was working on Bible Study homework in the courtyard, and, Lizzie in tow as well, headed to the Metro. Our destination was, via Metro first and then public bus, the MOUNTAINS!

Cajón de Maipo is a canyon region just outside of Santiago—a favorite and necessary weekend escape for many city-dwellers—and our specific destination is known as Cascada de las Animas (Waterfall of Spirits); it’s a nature reserve, where various activities such as zip-lining, hiking, rafting, horseback riding, and camping are available. Because I love horseback riding and mountains, I had booked us a 1½ hour ride, and that was perhaps the best decision I made when planning our week’s activities because it was absolutely awesome—that is, after we fiiiiiinally got there! The bus turned out to be a much longer and more obnoxious ride than I’d imagined (almost three hours, I think!) and then the bus driver FORGOT to tell us when to get off, as he’d promised to do, so we ended up overshooting our destination by a good fifteen minutes. Stranded in the middle of nowhere and running out of daylight, our last resort was to pay some local carbineros (policemen) to drive us back to the park entrance. So, for a cool 10,000 pesos (about $18), we got a lift to Cascada de las Animas, but not without a healthy dose of blasting reggaeton. It was all very Chile. “Nothing works,” we often say, “annnnd then we have to pay.” Typical.

But, it was all worth it, because when we got on those horses and got out into the wide open space that is so close to Santiago and yet light years away, IT WAS BREATHTAKING. Absolutely gorgeous. We rode up, up, up, until the river and the little pueblos below looked fake. Cacti shot up around us, looking kind of out-of-place against the backdrop of the far-off mountains’ snowy peaks. A loyal dog trotted alongside us for most of our ride. And because I hadn’t been out of the city limits for a good month, the fresh mountain air sweeping through my hair was like Christmas for my lungs! It was another beautiful day—much warmer than the days preceding Mom and Britt’s arrival to Chile— and we were led by a little old cowboy named Leo, who is really too cute for his own good. Lizzie’s horse, Oscuro, brought up the rear for most of the day and proved rather entertaining for all of us. Brittany’s horse led her into a bush about 15 minutes into her ride, resulting in Britt’s losing her reins for awhile until Leo could send a stern message to the horse to listen to its rider. My horse, Pin Pon (yup, Ping Pong), was obedient and liked to trot, which made me happy. The wind blowing through my hair, the mountains CLEAR AS DAY in the distance, and a condor floating overhead: can I paint a more serene and wonderful picture?!!

We got smart and took a colectivo back to the Metro when we returned. We had a date with my host family for a 9:00pm dinner and did not want to arrive late. I’d been a bit worried about this dinner, as I wasn’t sure how I’d integrate my non-fluently Spanish-speaking family into my crazy mix of relatives here. I didn’t know what we’d be eating or who was all going to show up. And, I didn’t know who I should talk to or what I should help with. But, all of my worries were unnecessary because dinner was great. In attendance were Gladys, Carolina, Maria José, Kena, Marcelo (Carol’s boyfriend), my two aunts, Ivania and Claudia (who Mom thinks are just like Aunt Vicki and Aunt Peggy, respectively), and then the three of us. Dinner was huge but pretty good—two types of meat, a salad, a heap of vegetables, chips to snack on, bread, peaches and cream (yum!), cake, the Oaks candies that Gladys generously shared with everyone, and lots of wine!

Everyone loosened up a bit after awhile, and things got funnier and funnier as the night went on. Marcelo whipped out his English skills and was a HUGE help in trying to keep my mom in the loop. I giggled and giggled with Ivania, who laughs at everything, and Kena, who is the sweetest little Chilean cousin ever. Carolina cracked everyone up with her sassiness and her cackle. At some point, Claudia put on a mask, which was also pretty hilarious (the “gripe porcina,” or swine flu, is something of a joke to people here—if you sneeze in a public place, someone is bound to mutter the words “gripe porcina,” and if you’re at my house, the silly Aunt Claudia will whip out her mask too!). Gladys, like a proud matriarch, steered the flow of the conversation, hustled around making sure everyone was happy and things were nice and tidy, and basked in the energy and love that filled her living room. Sometimes the conversation took a turn for the inappropriate and other times it hovered around uncomfortable, but as a whole the evening was really wonderful—far better than I could have hoped for it to be.

People, despite language barriers, really seemed to click. My host family loved my mom and sister, and I think my mom and sister loved them too and got to see them all for who they really are. I live with a bunch of beautiful, silly, smart, boisterous women, which is sometimes overwhelming and/or annoying, but when my mom told me, “You have a wonderful Chilean family,” she was right in a lot of ways. It felt good to have everyone in one place, and I realized, moreso after it ended, just how special that night was. Not all foreign exchange students’ U.S. and Chilean families get to mingle, and not all of them would mingle as successfully as ours did. It went swimmingly, really.

On Wednesday, we had a 10:00a.m. bus to catch, this time to Isla Negra, a small city about an hour and a half from Santiago and from Valparaiso as well—and home to Pablo Neruda’s third house in Chile. Having visited the other two, I wanted to complete our mission. Also, I’d heard this house was the best one (it had been his favorite). I thought that Mom and B should see it while they were here, and it turned out to be a great stop. Pablo is one of Chile's most beloved personalities, and he spent most of his earnings on STUFF from all over the place-- random stuff, too, like seashells, massive preserved beetles, colored glass, ship artifacts, and other odds-and-ends that normal people wouldn't think to purchase flippantly at a flea market in France (or wherever). It makes for interesting perusing. The house itself was cool—shaped like and modeled after a boat as are the other two—but the setting was the big give-away as to why Pablo liked the house so much. He woke up and fell asleep to—every day—the sound of crashing ocean waves. We just had to visit the beach after our tour of the house, and I’m so glad we did. Mom got to dip her toes in the icy water, and we frolicked around joyfully, excited to be next to water and excited to be on such a beautiful beach. The cold, white Pacific waves pound against the rocky shoreline, and an eerily stunning fog rolls in slowly off the ocean toward the beach: one could not help but be inspired to write in an environment like that.

Isla Negra was just a stop along the way. Our final destination was originally Valparaiso, where I’d made us a hostel reservation at the same place Lizzie, Caitlin, and I had stayed in February. But Esteban generously invited us to stay at his house instead after he accepted my invitation to accompany us on our Valpo/Viña del Mar adventure. So, after arriving in Valparaiso, we had to get on another micro to go to Viña. Unfortunately, we had a bad micro week, and we ended up missing our stop again and having to get on another bus to go back. But, eventually, we made it to the plaza, met up with Esteban, and finally arrived at his beautiful apartment in Reñaca, just outside of Viña del Mar, perched atop a quiet hill, overlooking the city and—more importantly—the ocean. At night, although you can’t hear the car horns or the traffic below, you can hear the crashing waves. We ate empanadas that night at a place Esteban has loved since he was a kid. And then we played Phase 10 (!!!!!), had ice cream (of course) and drank Piscolas, which are always better when made by Esteban (who claims I ruined my mom and sister’s first Pisco experience by subjecting them to a bar’s version). The night was silly, late, and loud, but we were so happy to be together, relaxing, and out of Santiago. And the pisco didn’t hurt either…!

The next day was a holiday here, commemorating Chile’s victory in the naval battle of Iquique. Esteban figured that Valparaiso would be pretty intense that day because President Michelle Bachelet (yup, Chile’s got a female Prez!) was giving an address from Valpo, which usually draws lots of protests with the potential to escalate to violence. So, we stayed away from Valpo and spent the day walking along the ocean from Reñaca to Viña. We got a late start, which I’m getting used to but clearly Mom thought was a bit insane. So, finally, at about 2 in the afternoon, we departed Esteban’s apartment and began strolling toward our ambiguous destinations in town (which is about 15 minutes away on a bus—so this was to be quite a stroll). We couldn’t have asked for a better day. The sun was out, the ocean was sparkling, and it felt just like summer—a much welcomed change from the Santiago chill I’d been complaining to Mom and Brittany about. We walked slowly, taking in the marvelous view that just never seems to get old, and we stopped along the way at some small fairs, where the tourists among us made some lovely purchases. We took a few photos of Lizzie and her paper-doll friend, Flat Stanley, who has been visiting us in Chile for the past few weeks, on loan from Lizzie’s 2^nd-grade cousin, whose class recently read a book about a boy named Stanley who becomes flat; as a result, each student’s own version of Flat Stanley was commissioned to various parts of the country and the world—though of course our Flat Stanley is in the coolest location! Esteban pointed a few things out as we walked—a big, beautiful casino, among other sites, and we eventually wound up at—where else?—Bravisimo, where I enjoyed half of a banana split I’d been lusting after for months.

After ice cream, it was about 5:30 and was getting dark already, so we were treated to yet another unbelievable sunset. Over the next hour, the line between the ocean and the sky disappeared before our eyes as the sky changed from blue to yellow to orange to bright red with hints of purple and then, in a matter of minutes, to pitch black. We decided it was time for dinner, but Chile dinner time is later than dinner time at home (usually never before 8 or 9 if you’re eating out), so the seafood restaurant we had our minds set on wasn’t ready for us yet. We burned the time by checking out the Reloj de Flores, a typical Viña site (it’s a huge, functioning clock made of flowers) and then enjoying a few drinks at a nearby bar—not a bad thing to “have” to do. After that pleasant diversion, we made our way back to Cap Ducal, and this dinner, my favorite of the trip, deserves its own paragraph.

Imagine this: you’re in Chile, a country which you have come to love—and more than that, you’re in a beach town, where the sun has just set on the glistening Pacific Ocean whose very energy makes you breathe deeper. You’re here with your Mom and sister, two glowing, warm personalities you haven’t seen for MONTHS. In addition, you’re in the company of your best friends in Chile, the always whimsical, musical, beautiful “La Liz,” and a genuine gentleman and hospitable tour guide, Esteban. You have just been seated, by a precious, soft-spoken elderly man in a dress suit, at a candlelit table next to a window overlooking the water. You’re craving fish like it’s nobody’s business, so while you pore over the options on the menu, each one inspiring more salivation than the next, you sip your chilled, smooth Chardonnay in a heavy wine glass, finally settling upon the sea bass with a pesto and cheese sauce. This choice, as it turns out, ROCKS YOUR WORLD and makes you wish the meal could proceed in slow motion so you could savor every second of every bite.

OK, so the meal was glorious. Every second of it, from the wine to the sea bass, which Mom and I both selected, to the THREE desserts we all shared, was perfect. The ambiance (and our adorable little waiter!) rounded out the ideal dinner experience, and we left Cap Ducal feeling one hundred percent satisfied. The evening ended with a chilly stroll back to the apartment (and a pisco stop along the way), followed by a rematch of Phase 10. To the dismay of all the women in the room, Esteban’s second victory was even more disheartening and merciless than the first, but the game was still fun—and the pisco was still good.

The next morning, Esteban brilliantly requested that my mom make her famous cheesy eggs, which I’ve talked very highly about here. She acquiesced, eager to share the deliciousness with new friends, and despite Chile’s lack of cheddar cheese, which we had to substitute for something else, the seasoned chef did not disappoint. The eggs were wonderful as ever, especially after months of not having them in my life. THANK YOU, Mommy!

We got going a bit earlier this morning and headed, via micro, to Valparaiso, where we strolled around the hills, rode the old “ascensor” (elevator), checked out a naval museum (obviously very important to this busy port city), and, despite a lack of energy that seemed to be affecting all of us, tried to take in the charms of the colorful Valparaiso I so love. We made a stop at Color Café to have another mug of the hot chocolate Lizzie and I fell in love with in February, and we spent a few minutes watching the fog roll in over the port, which resulted in some of my favorite photos of the weekend.

I would have liked to have more time to simply enjoy the energy of Valparaiso, but we were moving pretty slowly and the day got away from us rather quickly. So, we headed back to the apartment to organize our things, and after a quick empanada (and completo—Mom’s first!), we got our bus tickets and returned to Santiago. The ride made us all sleepy, and we got back pretty late, but there was one more mission that evening: clubbing! Of course, I had to expose my little sis’ to the “heaving” dance clubs of Santiago, especially the reggaeton beat I’ve become somewhat addicted to. Esteban took it upon himself to decide where we’d go that evening, so Britt and I met up with him and his best friend, Marcelo, and headed to Club Ananda in Vitacura, not far from Esteban’s. Despite the fact that I FORGOT MY I.D. (I know—really stupid), Esteban’s sweet-talking got us in, and we danced for hours. It was an early night, by comparison, but Brittany and I had a good time and were in bed by 3:30a.m.

The next day, sadly, my family had to leave. We returned to the fair at Santa Lucia, which we’d checked out the previous Saturday, and purchased a few souvenirs. Then we headed to Patio Bellavista, an area of more upscale souvenir shops and some touristy restaurants, and there we purchased a few more things, enjoyed another round of YogenFruzes (!), and met up with Lizzie for one last shared bottle of wine before the ladies had to depart. We headed back to the centro to grab our bags, say goodbye to my host family and Esteban (who came downtown just for the departure), and then grab a cab to the airport.

Saying goodbye to Mom and Brittany was emotional, kind of like having to leave all over again. It was weird, for all of us, when the two of them went through the doors to security and I stayed behind. But, I realized, I’m not ready to go through those doors yet. I can’t believe I only have FIFTY-FOUR more days here. I love Chile, and so did Mom and Brittany, and while I miss my family so much—especially after getting to spend some time with them—I know that my time here will fly by and I’ll soon be home. So, I returned to my house, exhausted after a week of constant moving, conversing, organizing, planning, translating, and eating (OK, so that part wasn’t so difficult!). I had come down with a cold, so I stayed in that night, resting and reading, and I spent all of Sunday (after Mass) watching movies and hanging out with my host family in an effort to speed up my recovery so that, when Thursday (today) arrived, I was feeling ready to travel again. I’m still congested and still have a cough, but I think it has improved some.

On Tuesday, I slept over with Lizzie at Jill’s house because her family is gone all week and she’s lonely in her house by herself. We had a really great girls’ night—tacos, wine, music, and movies!—and it reminded me again how lucky I am to have one of my best friends from home here with me AND to have met another wonderful girl, too. On Wednesday, I went to Cerro Navia with Liz, where we had another discouraging meeting with the adolescent mothers.

The thing is, NOTHING is happening in this program. We have a space, a director, and a group, but we don’t do anything—usually just a craft, but no real discussion—even though the group is supposed to be a place where the girls are supported in their new role as mothers. Mom had generously and lovingly brought me some kids’ toothbrushes and some books in Spanish about the care of kids’ teeth, so I distributed those to the girls, who never say thank you for anything and never show too much emotion. Still, I interpreted the fact that they at least listened to what I said to mean that they were somewhat interested in this particular gift. And I am happy that Mom brought those things because the bottles of Coca-Cola and the insane amount of sweets consumed by these kids do not bode well for their young teeth. Still, Cerro Navia continues to stress me out, make me question all sorts of things about service and limitations and people, and Liz and I left feeling downtrodden and disappointed—again.

I went straight to volleyball, where I had some time to run in the brisk air on the track, which helped me blow off some steam. Practice was entertaining (though I had to tell my Coach that I’m missing our game tonight!), and we got our warm-up suits, which are AWESOME. I’m buying mine as a souvenir of my time with the team. Our last game is next week, but the season continues after I leave, so the girls continue to beg me to stay. I’d love to, if I didn’t miss you all so much and if I didn’t have lots to look forward to next year at Marquette. But the volleyball team has become a really important and surprisingly wonderful part of my time here.

So, here I am—it’s Thursday, May 28^th, and I’m headed to the north of Chile, where it’s supposedly BEAUTIFUL. I can’t wait for the colors and the quiet and the natural beauty, though I’m a bit scared about the rumored freezing temperatures at night. My bag is packed and I’m heading out after my next class today. I’ll think of you all in the desert! Hope summer is starting off well and you are all happy and healthy. Until soon!

Lots of Love, crashing waves, and mountain air to you all,

Amanda