South America First Stop: Santiago and Surroundings

Hello again (or welcome, if you’re new — thank you for following along!) I’m reviving this blog to keep friends and family updated as I make my way across Chile & Argentina for the next 6 weeks. And, once I move and start work, also to hopefully document future trails (more to come once many visa / work permit get processed…) Unlike for the VF, I won’t be posting daily updates for the most part, but otherwise continue to expect to hear about the music I’m listening to, the food I’m eating (and wine I’m drinking), and the beautiful Patagonian landscapes.

Songs of the day(s):

Corcovado — Stan Getz and Joao Gilberto (“Quiet nights and quite stars, quiet chords from my guitar”…it’s a vibe. Also, an excellent album and the soundtrack to every dinner party I host)

Here Comes the Sun — The Beatles painfully picked out (by me) on the guitar as Nacho’s family generously listened

I felt surprisingly alive arriving in Santiago after 11 hours crammed into a middle seat on a packed plane. After some brief confusion with my luggage, which was lost but then found again by airport staff, and after dodging a growing mob waiting to welcome (ambush) a K-pop star to Chile, I was in a car and headed through the city.

I had done minimal planning for this stage of the trip, leaving it up to Charlotte and Nacho, who I would be visiting for 3 days. (Charlotte and I lived together in Singapore for the latter half of the MBA; Nacho is her now-husband who lived with us for the last few months of the program — I was very excited to reunite with them even if it had been less than a month since we last saw each other, a world away.) Since I was so unprepared, I was surprised by how familiar Santiago seemed, at least through a car window. With dry, scrubby mountains ringing the city, palm trees lined major streets, and beat-up pickup trucks passing road bikers on fancy carbon frames, I felt like I could be in LA.

Soon enough I’d arrived at Nacho’s family’s apartment in the northeastern outskirts of the city, which was light and airy with massive views looking out to the mountains behind. As we had a late lunch we could watch horses and hikers pick their way along narrow trails. I was a long way from frigid, grey DC — and from the lush humidity of Singapore, too. New year, new continent.

We spent our one evening in Santiago at a friend’s house for dinner, where I got a lesson in Chilean nicknames. Not unlike in Italian, most names get shortened in a standardized way. So, during the evening I met Joaquo (Joaquin), our host, Memo (Guillermo), Pancho (Francisco??), and a few others. Dinner was a lot of fun — Joaquo and I swapped notes on La Carre and argued about balancing work and passion, Charlotte and I caught up on our last month and her wedding, and I even got to try a classic Chilean completo: a hot dog topped with avocado, onions, and homemade mayo. I’ll admit I was highly skeptical but it was actually pretty tasty. Laughing and sipping beers, we watched the colors of the sky fade to deep blue as the sun set behind the mountains. Santiago is much further south than I had realized — a lower latitude than South Africa, so the sun sets after 9pm. The further south I go, the longer the days will get!

The next morning we set off towards Engenio, the avocado farm slash homestead that belongs to Nacho’s family. It’s about two hours outside of Santiago, near the village La Ligua which is famous for its alpaca sweaters and – as I would soon learn – its desserts. The property itself was everything I could have imagined and more: whitewashed buildings sheltering tractors and farm equipment from the midday sun, fruit trees scattering plums and apricots across paths, the slight perfume of flowers in the breeze. We unloaded our bags and carried them to the house: a charming one-story building (the second story collapsed in an earthquake in the 50s and was, understandably, not rebuilt) painted in a vibrant mustardy yellow. The interior was elegant, painted in warm colors with antique furniture, but lived-in, making the house feel comfortable and welcoming. The back of the house centered around a courtyard which looked out to a flowering crepe myrtle, then rows of avocado trees, and beyond that the spines of mountains. The front of the house was spanned by a shaded porch (my favorite spot), with tiles underfoot and comfortable chairs to enjoy the breeze and the view down to the pool. Below the front steps was a garden and a 300+ year old palm tree that had to be circled carefully, just in case any branches fell in the wind. Beyond that was a short walk to the pool, with views of a rose garden and more mountains.

Nacho’s entire immediate family was here, and we were kicking off with a traditional asado, a barbecue. In a whirlwind I met Nacho’s siblings (each with their own nicknames): Pipe (Felipe) , Ruro (Rodrigo), Tere (Teresa), and Maida (Magdalena); their spouses and children, and Nacho’s parents. I was grateful for the crash course I had been given on the way over as I tried to put names and faces together. Nacho’s father placed a glass of champagne in my hand and steered me to porch, where I passed most of the afternoon, chatting with the adults and occasionally jumping in to play with the kids.

The asado was a day-long affair, with Nacho’s father (also Felipe) ensuring glasses were filled and plying us with snacks — cheese and jamon, cheese empanadas, and choripan, sausage tucked into a piece of bread. Lunch was served around 4pm with steak off the grill, potato salad, fresh vegetables, and sliced avocados — and plenty of Carmenere, for which I have no tasting notes, blame the afternoon glasses of Chilean champagne. After lunch we had our first of many rounds of traditional deserts from La Ligua: empolvados, flat sandwiches of manjar (Chilean dulce de leche) sprinkled in powdered sugar, and principes, fluffy meringue on top of another layer of manjar.

After lunch we decamped to the pool for a few hours, and then Nacho walked Charlotte and I around the house, showing us the avocado and orange trees that would be supplying our breakfast tomorrow. Charlotte and I spent about an hour attempting to win the affection of the house’s kittens, trying to lure them from their hiding spot to play with a branch. Skeptical and fearful of humans, they did eventually tentatively come to play, but would jump out of reach whenever we tried to pet them.

Dinner was served after sunset, a traditional Chilean bean stew called porotos granados served once again with vegetables, avocados, and a slightly-spicy aji sauce. Then, of course, more dulces de La Ligua for dessert, a long sobremesa with more wine, and finally around midnight I stumbled into bed, trying not to think about the warnings of ghosts in my room from Nacho’s siblings.

The rest of the weekend passed in a similar fashion: reading a book on the porch, swimming in the pool, lounging in the late afternoon sun — usually with a glass of wine in hand, with someone strumming on one of the many guitars that seemed to appear across the property. Mornings started with breakfast — a toasted English muffin shaped bread called hallulla, topped with butter, eggs, and of course avocado — and fresh squeezed orange juice. Lunches and dinners were more traditional Chilean foods, including charquican, a sausage and vegetable soup that was one of my favorites, and more dulces de La Ligua. Ruro made a pitcher of the best Pisco Sours I have ever had in my life, made with a specific type of lemon grown on the farm (and even better the next day after being frozen overnight). Charlotte and I slowly won over the cats, and the runt of the litter even came all the way over to the washing machines without being scared by us. Hari, the three week old Samoyed puppy, enjoyed his first experience outside of Santiago — getting into fights with the old house cat and finding the coolest patch of grass by the pool. On the last evening we had an aperitivo in the courtyard to celebrate 48 years of marriage for Nacho’s parents. The kids played football in the courtyard, Nacho’s brother-in-law Ben played guitar, and we all chatted and laughed as the cool evening air descended.

The last day, wiped out from two full days of wine and sun, Nacho, Charlotte, and I lounged on the porch, chatting and enjoying a respite from the sun. I played guitar (poorly) and polished off one of the 8(!) spy novels I had brought with me for six weeks of travel. After one final lunch where I polished off two full avocados (it was good luck to eat the last one, Nacho’s mother assured me as she pushed it in my direction, as superstition dictates that it will give me good luck in my marriage prospects) and a slice of mil hojas, a thousand-layer cake of nuts, pastry, and more manjar.

Then, more quickly than expected, it was time to go. I bid the family a fond farewell, reminded Charlotte and Nacho to come visit me once I move in April, and then was in a van off to the airport, the family waving as they receded into the rear view. I was headed back towards Santiago, off to catch a flight to Puerto Montt, the jumping off point for the next stage of my trip. I could not have asked for a better start to a month and a half in South America — I am so grateful to Charlotte and Nacho for hosting me, and to Nacho’s family for so warmly inviting me into their plans. I certainly hope it won’t be the last time I come to Santiago.

For now, I’m Patagonia bound via plane and then ship(!), for the next few weeks. More to come!