Aerial Adventures

Another Tuesday... I finished my shift and as always, took a bus to Antofagasta and from there a plane to Santiago. The plane was late, half an hour late, due to bad weather conditions somewhere in Chile. As always, we (the group sharing the same shift) all sat together in the airport restaurant, this time watching Uruguay defeating Peru by an impressive 6-0. The plane finally arrived, I sat on my place and started reading the final chapters of my book. I completely lost the notion of space and time (the plot was really thrilling) until I finished the book. By then, I started to wonder why the plane kept losing altitude, but never landed. The answer came through the voice of the captain:

"Hello ladies and gentlemen, captain speaking, unfortunately due to a very low and thick fog, we will not be able to land in Santiago and we will go to the nearest airport, which is... Mendoza, Argentina!"

It was late evening already and we were going towards Argentina. We (the group) crossed looks throughout the whole plane (we are normally about a quarter of the passengers), with spontaneous smiles all over: one night in Mendoza! We arrived at the airport and waited for long time, imagining the parrilla and the wine waiting for us, until the captain sounded again:

"Ladies and gentlemen, your captain again, we are still waiting for the Immigration to come and we still have one plane ahead of us, so you are not allowed to leave the plane yet. You have to fill out the immigration paperwork to enter the country."

We filled the papers and waited long time again. At this point we realized that the food and wine idea was not going to happen. Moreover, some despair arose across the plane. There were people with connection flights to Europe on the next day, from Santiago...

"You have now to pass the Immigration control. People on land will give you instructions concerning the hotels where you are staying. The atmospheric conditions in Santiago will not change until tomorrow at 9:00 am, so you'll get information again at this time, through the hotel."

An endless queue, a lot of time spent to pass the control. Some people didn't have any ID with them... Therefore, not allowed to enter the country! In the end, with some diplomacy, they let them in. For the first time, I saw some people crossing borders without any identification. South american relaxed latin style...

We left the airport at 2:30 am, in a bus, to the center, everything closed, hunger spreading fast. There was a 24h fast food open. Not the famous parrilla, nor a drop of wine. Next morning, everyone up before 9:00 to have breakfast and wait for news to come. We only reached the airport at around noon... and we had to keep waiting! We started to wonder if the plane would leave before lunch time, considering the possibility of going back to the center and eat the desired parrilla, but nobody would tell us when we would depart. One and a half hours before, after passing through the Immigration again, the announcement came:

"Due to respecting the crew rest period, the plane will depart at 14:50."

Disappointment! No time to go back and still too long to wait. I can still bet the crew was shopping in Mendoza! We were given a voucher for lunch at the airport restaurant where we saw a steak on the menu. Hope renewed!! It didn't last long, though. The voucher was for the thinnest sandwich I'd ever seen, one slice of cheese, one of ham and two slices (same size as ham and cheese) of bread. Suicide crossed some minds... At last we boarded, heading to Santiago. As we arrive, desperate to get out of the plane, a short announcement, the cherry on top:

"Dear passengers, we have just arrived at Santiago's INTERNATIONAL airport. This means you will have to fill in the paperwork for the Immigration and the Customs to be allowed in the country!"

Everyone started complaining, and we were still inside the plane. It couldn't be, a neverending nightmare. As we got out, we filled the paperwork and, just when we were ready, a security staff member came and told us that we didn't need anything else, just go through, no paperwork, no control, no nothing. Homicide crossed some minds... Looking back now, we had a very good time. We spent a nice social night, I got to know my colleagues a bit more and in the airport we did a lot of crazy pictures under the theme "Lost in Mendoza".

Victor Jara

Victor Jara was a very famous folk singer and writer in Chile, known all over the world after being killed during the coup in which Salvador Allende died and Pinochet took over. He was caught by the military forces inside the university where he taught, along with several other socialist students and professors, and taken to the national stadium, where they were all held. From here, I've read and heard different versions. The most heroic is that he was playing his guitar in the stadium and an officer ordered him to stop. He kept playing and singing and they cut one of his hands off. As he kept playing with just one hand, they cut the other as well. Uncapable of playing, he kept singing and they shot him... The true facts are that he was shot to death and his body was found with both hands cut. His murder file, together with many more crimes perpetrated during Pinochet's dictatorship, is now being opened again, for trial.

Last week, I went to a bar to hear some live music. There was this one guy with just a guitar, who played several south american songs, not just chilean, which had in common this political resistance message. He played some songs from Victor Jara and Violeta Parra (soon a post about her as well), who were both characters of Chilean's regime. The bar was not big, but was full, full with normal and different people, who all had in common the fact that they would know all the songs, all the lyrics (even when the singer did not) and would suggest other similar songs for him to play. The atmosphere inside was full of feeling, powerful, like flesh wounds still to heal. Pinochet was in power until 1990, meaning that the dictatorship and its effects are still recent for chileans. All the people in that bar were born in the regime and their feeling about it, their value of democracy, is way more present than in Portugal.

© Image from Wikipedia

Winter time

After a couple of weeks of constant rain, the sun came up again, to show a painful truth: the winter is here! It is damn cold, the house is freezing inside, even more than outside, and there's little we can do about it. Apparently, it is quite normal to get below zero in Santiago, during the winter, sometimes with snow. The polar wave that is now striking Santiago made everyone run into the stores and empty their stock of thermal ventilators, heaters, comforters and blankets.

However, the fact that there is sun makes it quite comfortable to go out during the day. There I was, walking around Santiago, when suddenly I looked east and... I remembered why this place is different from Portugal. The cordillera was covered in snow, deep white, and, as the sun went down, deep red. Beautiful sight, made me forget how cold it was. Next day, I went up one of the cerros to take pictures of these permanent vigilants that look after the city.