Why I'm in Chile / First Impressions

Officially, I have been sent here to participate in a research project. Here are the plain facts: On the one hand, my food and lodgings are sponsored, and on the other, my pretext...uh...job is to design a simple program to keep the temperature of a convection current system constant. It isn't everyday that you get sponsored to take a summer vacation in a nice country, so why not?

Picked up this novel before boarding. The sole reason my flight was enjoyable.

My first view of Chile was of the snow-adorned crowns of the Andes highlighted by the glow of an unrisen sun, from my plane window. Chile is located on the western coast of South America and is bordered by the Andes mountain range, a location that affords spectacular views, mountaineering activities, and good seafood. Santiago, the capital city and my destination, is situated somewhere in the middle between coast and mountains, making it just as convenient to go skiing as it is to visit the seaside.

Top: Silhouette of plane wing against nice color gradient on the horizon.

Left: Closer shot of the Andes, minutes after the first.

As the plane began its descent, I saw agricultural fields, small clumps of buildings along a river, and then a flat expanse of urban cityscape devoid of the skyscrapers that one would expect of a modern city nowadays. Closer to the ground, I noticed a light mist had settled across the land and its sparse distribution of houses, giving it a somewhat sleepy, ghosttown-like appearance.

But what a stark contrast it was once I walked into the airport! The interior design was more tasteful than all of the US airports I have ever been to (admittedly not very numerous). Clean blue carpetting and walls covered with new-looking metallic grey panels made for a pleasant view which complemented the brightly illuminated wall-less shops offering well-known brands like Chanel, Vuitton, Godiva, etc.

My contact identifies me right away as I walk out from customs. He helps me with my luggage and tells me, on the way to the cab, that the people of Chile are generally warm and friendly, but that most do not speak English. That will be a problem.

The cab driver was the first example. I had to hand-gesture and point on a map to show him the location of my hostel. The cab took me through undeveloped rural areas, along a highway filled with old cars (not unlike Chicago), and finally into the city area, where old but brightly-colored low-rise buildings, shophouses containing family-run businesses, street peddlers, winding roads gave me an impression of a quaint seaside-town scene.

I checked into my hostel, was given a small 2.5m by 2.5m room, visited a local supermarket, learnt that Chileans don't count their pesos in the millions as was suggested by what the money bills show, came back and had chicken for dinner before logging on the internet to let friends and family know I had not died in an aircrash or some major accident of my own doing, and finally went to bed, ending an otherwise uneventful day.