On the Road: Of Cities and Stars

Since I've left, there has been a lingering notion that every second of every day must be filled with a memory ready to make, capture, and put on Instagram. The caption usually reads:

Look, world, I'm having an adventure! And the proof is in the pictures.

This week, I decided to put that pressure to be an all-star adventurer on hold. As a result, the last seven days have rolled by in a lazy succession of starry nights, beers on the beach, and glasses of the finest cheap-Chilean wine. My time in the north is coming to a close, and in a few days, I start my way towards the south. I've been through the mental checklist of things to do and places to meet, so for the few days I have left, I want to simply be.

Let sloth be my sin, my laundry be done, and my groceries be bought. Sometimes, just functioning is enough for a day or two.

La Serena

Van a mirarme los cerros
como padrinos tremendos,
volviéndose en animales
con ijares soñolientos,
dando el vagido profundo
que les oigo hasta durmiendo,
porque doce me ahuecaron
cuna de piedra y de leño.

-Gabriela Mistral, "Valle de Elqui"

Looking out over the valley, I brought the Poet's words to mind, and the world around me brought them to life. This is where she was born and buried, and throughout her long life, she drew her inspiration from the ground I'm standing on. The mountains, the stones, the rivers, the sun. I am only a visitor here, and the museum's No Touch signs remind me of my place. But still, I want this valley to fill me as it did her, if only for a day.

La Serena and Valle del Elqui are known not only as the homeland of Gabriela Mistral, Nobel prize poet, but also to the orchards that give most of the country pisco. During the day, the fields of the valley are kept under a hot, dry sun. But at night, the cosmos is put on display.

The Milky Way stretches across sky as if God had taken to finger painting with starlight. Planets shine bright in their orbits around an absent sun, and constellations remind us of their legends. Here I stand, an unnoticed witness to this valley and the spiraling universe that governs it.

Santiago

Before I arrived, I had the grand idea of traveling through Santiago as if I was a tourist. I planned on going to the top of Costanera, eating sopapillas off the street, and seeing all of the shiny bells and whistles of the city that fill guidebooks and travel blogs. An old city from a new perspective. Or at least, that was the idea. But as soon as I was on the metro again, my feet took me where my heart wanted to go- and it wasn't Cerro San Cristobal.

I knock on the apartment door, and Jordan answers with that Hey, J smile that makes the world just a little bit lighter. It's Sunday Funday, and the room is full of friends, red wine, and the sounds of Netflix playing in the background. My spot on the couch is empty, and I plop right back into my old life. Everything is exactly as it was.

My life in Santiago was a good one, and being back here reminded me just how good it was. At home, Angie, José, and I lounged in moon chairs in a haze of sandalwood and cigarette smoke. That night, I slept in my old bed, and the next morning, I thought about staying for an extra day, maybe two.

But my time to travel is too short and only getting shorter, and half of the country is still on the horizon. Starting tomorrow, I'm southbound.