Chorrillana is a Bookend

Chorrillana is so good. French fries and assorted meats and sausages all marinated in a red wine reserve, topped with a sunny side up egg; chorrillana is the most deliciously typical Chilean cuisine. It tastes better than the description sounds, and smells incredible.

not my photo. But this is Chorrillana from La Flor de Chile.

This is not my photo. But this is Chorrillana from La Flor de Chile.

The first time I tried chorrillana was at La Flor de Chile the night that I arrived in Chile. That evening was a very interesting experience for several reasons. My first host mom, (I changed host families after a week – see my blog post New Home and Twenty One for the reasons) Paty, took me to eat with six of her friends. I was exhausted  from the flight and thrown right into the middle of a strange culture and a strange language and strange food. Now, I know textbook Spanish, but nothing prepared me for the awfulness of Chilean Spanish! It’s so fast and ridden with Chilenismos and idioms and slang that it’s hardly recognizable as Spanish. I thought I had forgotten everything I ever learned because in ten minutes of conversation I could only recognize one or two words. But as time went on I realized that they weren’t speaking Spanish, but the Chilean dialect. 


Thankfully one of Paty’s friends spoke broken English and could translate the conversation and describe the items on the menu for me. With Paty’s friend’s help I ordered something safe like beef and french fries, but someone else at the table ordered Chorrillana La Flor de Chile Grande con Mechada. When the waiter brought it to the table I was amazed at the size of the dish because it was large enough for three or four men to eat their fill. I’m pretty sure my jaw dropped in disbelief. Everyone laughed at my expression and urged me to taste it. I was a little skeptical because it doesn’t look quite as appetizing as it actually is but I tried it anyway. Side note to the traveler: Always. Always try the local food. You’ll often find gems.  Chorrillana is so good!


Over the course of four months I ate a lot of chorrillana. Just like pizza, the quality varied depending on where I ate it, but it was always chorrillana and always good. During that time of falling in love with Chorrillana I also fell in love with Chile and Chilean culture and Chilean Spanish. I learned the language more or less. I didn’t realize how much I had grown until the last time I ate Chorrillana.


My host family (Rosy and Manuel, their daughter, Paula, and her daughter, Victoria) took me, incidentally, to la Flor de Chile. It was a very emotional evening but also really cool because I got a sense of closure and was able to process how important these people are to me and how much I had learned and grown since the first time eating at that restaurant.


Paula, Victoria, and I ordered Chorrillana to share. I was excruciatingly aware that this very well could be the last time I would ever eat chorrillana and laugh with these wonderful people whom I had grown to love so dearly so I had to force the food past a lump in my throat. Even so, it was delicious, the conversation amusing, and the company warm. It was a much more pleasant experience than the first time I tried chorrillana, and I could finally follow almost all of the conversation. I have very fond memories of that evening. It was a beautiful bookend to my adventures in Chile.

I still have a lot to write about my trip to Peru and the last two weeks in Chile and my transition back home. This is just one story so stay tuned for more! It might be a while because school is insane but good things come to those who wait 😉


~ Debs

Ziplining in Peru

The last day in Cusco we went Zip-lining.  I flew over the mountains of Peru and met some Quechua people.  My dad’s parents were missionaries to the Quechua people and translated the Bible into their language so my dad grew up with them and was even named after their chief, Tariri. I’ve always wanted to meet those people, and I finally did! There were four guys running the zip-line, and they were talking together. At first, we assumed it was Spanish, but after a moment or two we realized we couldn’t understand it at all. Tristan asked what they were speaking and they said Quechua. I was so happy! Also, the landscape is breathtakingly beautiful.


There were four zip-lines. The last two were longer and awesomer!


We met these two adorable little kids. They were the children of a farmer who was ploughing the field behind us and knew the zip-line people somehow. So cute. The little girl had her shoes on the wrong feet so Tristan switched them out haha.



I flew like superman over the valley! It was the closest I’ve ever been to flying.


I realized that although the town was incredibly poor monetarily, these people were rich because of the breathtaking beauty that surrounded them. I would give anything to have grown up in a place as beautiful as that.


Here we are posing with the mountains in the background. Jihoon is being a goof as always 🙂 We all stylin’ with our hard hats and harnesses!


Disclaimer: These photographs were taken with Tristan’s camera by one of the Quechua guys. So they are not mine.

So that’s the end of our Zip-lining adventure. It was a fun time, and the beauty of the land was food for my soul.

Soon I will post about Machu Picchu and Adventures in Peru and the last few weeks in Chile.


I still exist.

I’m home! I’ve been home for several weeks but I still haven’t updated my blog about Machu Picchu and the last few weeks of my Chile adventure. I keep saying, “I’ll do that tomorrow,” and then don’t. ENOUGH OF THAT! This is just a little note to say, “stay tuned, cause more blog posts are coming soon.”  Like actually tomorrow.

Okay bye!

~ Debs

The Giving of Thanks

I missed Thanksgiving. I’m in Chile, and they don’t celebrate it here. Yesterday my host mom pulled the Christmas tree out of storage and it makes me sad because it reminds me of the Thanksgiving shaped void in my life right now.

Thanksgiving is my second favorite holiday next to Christmas and my birthday (which tie for first). I love the amazing delicious beautiful food that I’m allowed to gorge myself on once a year and not feel bad about my life choices. I love that my family goes around the table and says what we’re thankful for.  I love the story behind the holiday of two races coming together and celebrating their friendship and the plentiful harvest. I love that once a year, all over the country, no matter how terrible a person’s life is or how pessimistic someone is, they have a reason to think of the things and people that make their life wonderful and express that to their loved ones. I love that families who are broken can set aside their differences for just a little bit, eat an amazing meal together, and say something they are thankful for about one another. I love that when you normally wouldn’t express this to someone, you have the excuse of a holiday to tell them just how much you love someone and are thankful for them. I love that we have a once a year reminder to thank God for blessing us so abundantly and we remember all the things in our lives that are worth being thankful about.  I just really love Thanksgiving a lot!

I wish I was in the States right now. I’m missing it by nine days!

But on the bright side, I can still be thankful even from 5000 miles away from home. Obviously.

I’m thankful for my family. My mom and dad are wonderful and they’ve taught me so much. They’ve stuck together through the good and the bad and they’ve set an amazing example for what it means to love unconditionally. Rachel has a beautiful and fun personality. It’s been wonderful growing up with someone so close in age and to know I will always have someone to talk to and turn to. Lucas is funny and has a kind heart. He is a protector and I know he’ll always have my back. Jonathan is so creative and affectionate. He’s really sweet and he loves to love by spending time with his family. Even though we’ve all had our differences and we get fed up with each other sometimes, I know that in the end family is forever and we’ll always love each other.

I’m thankful for Zach.  He has a beautiful heart and a creative mind. He loves God and strives to honor Him. He is loving and thoughtful and sweet and I kind of really love him. 🙂 I’m so blessed to know him and to have dated him for the past year.

I’m thankful for my friends. Elaine, Kayla, Lauren, Caroline, Xanda, DJ, Tris, David, Jihoon, Sodam, etc. They are all beautiful people who I love dearly. They encourage me, challenge me to be a better person, and make me laugh. I’m so blessed to know every one of you.

I’m thankful for Grove City College, for the opportunity I’ve been given to receive such an excellent education, and the amazing friends I’ve made here.

I’m thankful for Chile and for the experiences I’ve had and the memories I’ve made and for the people I’ve met. I’m especially thankful for my host family, Rosy and Manuel, for caring for me and inviting me into their home and family for four months.

I’m thankful for music, and the beauty of nature, and everything else I love that I don’t have time to talk about right now.

Last but definitely not least, I’m thankful for God because all of these other things I’m thankful for are gifts from him. Even though I don’t deserve it I’ve been forgiven, saved, blessed abundantly, and loved unendingly by the creator and sustainer of the universe and that is truly amazing.

Okay so I know I’m posting this a day after Thanksgiving but that’s okay because we can be thankful every day of the year!

Also, I will be posting about Machu Picchu and other adventures very very soon I promise!



At the End of the World

Patagonia is something indescribable. Human language fails me and I don’t know how to relate back to you the incredible experience I had backpacking for five days there. Even the most beautiful pictures can’t do it justice. I can honestly say that those days were the best and most memorable of my time here in Chile. I will do my best to tell you about my time there.

Hostel: Lil’ Patagonia

We arrived in Puerto Natales on the 30th of October. Lil’ Patagonia is a cute little hostel with friendly, informative staff, clean rooms, and fun atmosphere. I would absolutely recommend it to anyone intending to backpack in Las Torres del Paine national park. We spent the day deciding on our trekking course (which depended on the weather), shopping for food/spending wayyyy more money than we intended, renting our camping equipment (which turned out to be five times as expensive as we had expected, because freaking Jaime didn’t tell us that it was charged per day…), and packing our backpacks.  We went to sleep and left really early the next morning to catch a bus to the park. This is a map I drew of our route:

map torres del paine

~ day 1 ~

wild horses, snow and sun, and the freezing beautiful campsite.

1 to 2: 15 km(?), 5 hours

We set out and saw wild horses grazing on the golden grass. The day was beautiful, with weather rapidly changing between snow and high winds and sunny warmth. We hiked for five hours over relatively flat ground and I ate delicious trail mix. With the mountains ahead and a river often visible to our left, the time went by quickly and we soon reached the feet of the mountains.

We camped by the lake with the mountains behind us. It was the most beautiful campsite and we met some really cool people while cooking in the gazebo. We met one of the employees from Lil’ Patagonia and played card games with him and a dude from Ireland. Tris discovered that she lost her phone/id/credit card which reallyyyy sucks.

That night the four of us crawled into our tiny tent and managed to squish in all together.  Tris and Sodam and I giggled for a long time about nothing in particular, and then after a long moment of silence, Tris snorts and says, “imagine the guys giggling themselves to sleep” and we all lost it again. It was freezing cold, so even though there were four of us stuffed in the tent I basically didn’t sleep. My sleeping bag was borrowed and was meant for weather warmer than 10 degrees Celsius. It was definitely wayyyy colder than 10 degrees Celsius every night so the entire trip was pretty rough for sleeping.  But I survived!


~ Day 2 ~

Halloween, Tiger Balm, and The glacier

2-3: 11 km, 5 hours.

The next day we set out for camp grey, which was a three hour hike up the mountain from the first campsite. Unfortunately, it took us five hours due to fatigue of some members and a hurt knee.


The view on the way was beautiful and kept getting better as we got closer to our destination. The weather was amazing! We stopped about halfway at the first sight of the glaciers. Pete put Tiger Balm on his lips without knowing exactly what Tiger Balm is. Tris nearly died laughing and Pete’s lips nearly died from the burning. He took it well though; mostly because he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of showing how miserable he was. Haha!

The lodge at campsite Grey wasn’t as nice and we didn’t have water first thing in the morning. But our campsite was nestled into some trees and it was very peaceful and a lot warmer than the first campsite because a) we were sheltered from the wind and b) I wore all of my clothes to bed.


~ the glacier grey ~ 

3-4: 3 km, 1 hour

After setting up camp and eating, some of us set out on an hour hike to see the glacier grey. It was a grueling climb but we didn’t have backpacks so we survived. The view was incredible. We climbed over the fence at the view point and ran across some rocks to get closer to the glacier. It was something I can’t describe so here is a picture to sort of insufficiently show the majestic awesomeness that I was experiencing.


 A condor flew over us too! It was beautiful and I managed to snap a few pictures of it with Tristan’s camera. We also saw icebergs. ICEBERGS!

That evening, we ate dinner and bought some boxed wine to celebrate Halloween. Pete scared the shit out of us after the lights went out by coming up behind us and shouting.  It erased the effects of the wine and I still had a hard time falling asleep. Dang it Pete!

~ day 3 ~

The breathtaking lake and that damn campsite

We all had slightly different routes for the next two days, so I’ll only tell the distance/time for my personal route: 3-6: 24km, 9.5 hours

Amryll hurt her leg the day before so she left early. We hiked back down from campsite grey to the first campsite we stayed at and she took a ferry back to the bus. The rest of us ate lunch in the gazebo and then continued on to campsite Italiano.

David, Pete, Jihoon, and Tristan decided to stay in Italiano because it was free. Sodam and I decided we didn’t want to hike for 11 hours the next day so we continued on to the next campsite to cut two hours off of the next day.

That two hour hike was my favorite part of Patagonia because it was so incredibly beautiful. The path followed the contour of Lake Nordenskjol. For a little while we walked along the stony beach, and it was so beautiful I couldn’t even take a picture of it because there was no way it could capture it. Sodam and I sat down and just listened to the wind waves lapping against the shore. Peaceful.  Here is a photo of the lake from the distance.


 After the lake shore, we trekked for a long time over stones which killed our ankles, weaving in and out of some trees which I can’t describe. The scenery was gorgeous and incredibly unique.

We finally made it to the campsite about forty minutes ahead of schedule. Sodam had been struggling earlier in the day but she was so determined to get to the campsite before sundown we made really good time! I was really proud of her.  But after we got to the campsite, things started going downhill. That night was amusingly miserable. Here’s the story:

The campsite was rocky and uneven, so there were platforms everywhere to build the tents on. Sodam and I paid to reserve a space, and then found an empty platform and began setting up the tent.  About halfway though a Chilean man came over and spoke to us in broken English. The conversation went something along these lines:

Chilean guy: “Hey did you guys reserve yet?”

“Yeah” I replied.

“Well, that’s my site.”

Sodam and I looked at each other in confusion and then turned to the man and asked him what he meant. “Earlier I came through here with the guys and I said this is my spot and that’s your’s over there.” he gestured in the general direction of another platform.

Sodam said, “I’m sorry, we didn’t know that you had claimed this campsite. You should have left a bag on the platform to mark that it was yours.”

“But I told the guys this was my spot!”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t just tell the guys and then expect other people to also know. You should have put a bag on the platform,” I responded, deciding to myself that he was a childish s.o.b.

“We’re already halfway set up and we spent a lot of time and you can’t just ask us to move.” Sodam added.

A thought suddenly occurred to me that maybe each campsite was assigned to a specific person, so I asked him, “were you assigned to this particular campsite? Were you given a number or something?”

I think something was lost in translation because he looked really confused and said, “No there weren’t no number. I told the guys this was my campsite.”

“Well, are there any other campsites available?”

“That ain’t my problem.”

At that point I was kind of boiling on the inside. That ain’t your problem my ass. I was not about to move just because he was being childish.  I very calmly asked, “Would you like for me to help you look for another campsite?”

“I don’t need no help with that,” he said, looking confused and angry.

“Well then, I’m sorry, but you should have put a bag on this platform to claim it.”

He just left.

Sodam and I looked at each other darkly and started ranting about what an idiot the guy was as we continued to set up our tent.

A few minutes later the lady from the reception desk came over to us. She explained in Spanish (which is what the guy should have done in the first place cause there was so much lost in translation and his English was terrible) that the guy had paid extra for the platform closer to the facilities and thus it was actually his assigned campsite.  She apologized but asked us to move.

Sodam and I were livid. Sodam was so mad she wouldn’t even try to speak Spanish. She said politely but straightforwardly something like, “I’m sorry, we weren’t aware that this was reserved. Your desk should have informed the campers of the situation! We walked for hours and are exhausted and we just wasted all of this time setting up the tent because of this miscommunication. We paid for a place and no one told us that this was reserved. There should be a sign or something with this information on it!”

The lady apologized again and said she understands that but they guy paid for this campsite so we would have to move.  We asked if there were any other available campsites (it was late so the place was already really full) She told us there were six platforms “arriba” which we could use with no problem. She then left to go back to the office.

We started packing our stuff up and ranting about the unfairness and how unprofessional and rude and sooooo incredibly unlike the USA, Europe, or Asia the entire situation was. They sent a guy with a boombox to help us find a campsite. The platforms up above the buildings were all taken, so we had to sleep on the ground. The guy tried to help us set up the tent. It probably would have been faster if just Sodam and I did it because we knew how to, but it was a nice gesture non-the-less.  We lost an hour with that shit. So darkness was falling.

By that time we were both starving and exhausted. But we discovered that we left the cooking pot with the other four people at the last campsite.  We were both incredibly frustrated and decided to just ask another camper to borrow theirs. Thank God we ran into another exchange student from our school who let us use his cooking pot.  Unfortunately, he wanted it back before Sodam had time to cook her meal, so we both shared mine. Rice. It was the most delicious rice I’ve ever eaten in my life but we were both still hungry afterwards.

I went into the bathroom facilities that the campsite provided for those of us who didn’t pay as much, only to discover that there was literally shit in the toilet and no way to flush it because the cover for the tank was gone. It was disgustingly sickening.  I let that reception lady know about it and she allowed me to use the very clean and beautiful bathrooms inside of the lodge. The contrast was ridiculous and made me even angrier.

We finally went to sleep and I shivered violently all night long because there was just two of us in the tent and the lack of body heat was sorely felt.

It was a miserable night. But it sure makes for a good story now!

~ day 4 ~

shortcut, stream, and the hell climb made manageable by the hostel guy.

6 – 8 (via 7); 9 hours, 20 km

The next morning, Sodam was too physically and mentally exhausted that she felt unable to finish the last climb up to Campsite Torres, let alone la Mirador Torres del Paine. She decided to walk with us until we reached the shortcut, and then split from us and go back to the hostel in Puerto Natales. We broke camp and waited for the other four to catch up to us (they left Italiano two hours earlier).  Jihoon had a hurt hip from sleeping funny so he decided to go back with Sodam.

So we set out for the shortcut where we said goodbye. They took one of the tents and a pot. I was sad that they didn’t finish but I think it was for the best because the trek grew miserable as we started climbing higher later on.  It would suck if Jihoon’s hip grew worse or if Sodam just wasn’t able to finish, and they did make it most of the way.

So we took the shortcut. It was mostly flat and very beautiful. The day was gorgeous and sunny. David and I managed to get far ahead of Tris and Pete. We crossed a river and I decided to soak my poor abused feet in the mountain water. SPEAKING OF MOUNTAIN WATER, it’s so incredibly delicious. So fresh and crystal clear and beautiful and thirst quenching and inspiring and I want it in my life all of the time.  I could rant for days about how amazing and lovely and perfect mountain water is. But I digress. I soaked my feet in it and that was an excellent life choice. Here is a photo that Tristan took of me drinking the mountain water (it was a different river, but you get the idea of how beautiful the water is).


Soon Tris and Pete caught up to us so we journeyed on. After that point, the path grew more difficult as it started going uphill. Really steep uphill. After a grueling climb we finally reached the first campsite (which we were not camping at) and took a much needed rest. We were pleasantly surprised to run into one of the guys who worked at our hostel! Eugenio (pronounced e as in grey, u as in food, gen as in hen, i as in me, o as in go. ey-ew-hen-ee-o. Not Eugene – yew-jean -) bought us a cookie and walked with Tris and I to the campsite Torres.

If the climb was bad before, it got worse from that point on.  We were already completely drained and exhausted, my stomach was cramping, and I couldn’t breathe because of the altitude and lack of energy. And the path was winding straight up a mountain.  Eugenio was a Godsend because he offered to hold on to one end of my trekking pole to give me the extra strength I needed to get up the steepest parts. He joked that it was payment for our pasta later on haha!  I would not have been able to make it without that help.

We finally made it to the campsite! It was snuggled back into a forest with a stream running through the center, a shelter for cooking under, and a crude bathroom building. We set up our tent and I SAW A FOX!! It ran right behind our tent. I freaked out I was so excited. Then we made pasta and talked to other campers and went to sleep.

~ day 5 ~

the frigid heavenly sunrise and back to civilization.

8-9: 1 hour up a mountain.

then 8-10. 2 hours, 9 km

Google Las Torres del Paine and you will find hundreds of photos of these three famous towers brilliantly lit by the rising sun. We awoke at 4:30 to make the climb up the mountain to see the sunrise and las Torres. The climb was absolutely miserable and definitely the most physically and mentally difficult thing I’ve ever had to do in my life.

I didn’t think i could make it. It hurt so much and i was so tired i just wanted to quit. We lost the path and climbed up an abandoned slope with sand-consistency ground for about 10 minutes before we realized our mistake and had to go back down and return to the right path. I felt like I had used up all of my energy and I just wanted to stop. But I knew that there would be a beautiful view at the top and that kept me going.  And at the steepest parts, Eugenio held my pole and pulled me along like before. I thought that maybe he was an angel or something.

We finally made it to the top. We didn’t have any protection from the wind any more. So we were blasted with strong, frigid winds and the altitude made it freezing. I was covered in sweat from the climb and it quickly cooled and started draining my body heat. I normally have an incredibly low tolerance for the cold and this was unbearable. I actually cried from the cold. Tris laughed and at first I was mad but then I realized how ridiculous and funny it actually was that I was crying in that situation. And I laughed too. I managed to change out of my sweaty shirt and wrapped myself up as best I could, and sat with my back to a huge rock which mostly blocked me from the wind but it was still bloody awful.

It was also cloudy so the sunrise wasn’t as spectacular as we had hoped. It was still beautiful though. The mist over las torres made it very mysterious and mystical, and the water was a deep beautiful teal colour. The wind blew over the surface of the water and the ripples danced down towards las torres. The high winds made the clouds constantly change and as the sun rose, everything was stained with a golden tinge. Thirty minutes or so after the sunrise, the sky cleared a little and the sun lit up the face of the rocks like torches. It was beautiful!  Here is a picture. I think I appreciate the beauty more now that I am not freezing, but at the same time this photo doesn’t do it justice. I think that the feeling of accomplishment from surviving the climb as well as the frozenness are a necessary part of that experience and you lose both of those things with a picture. But here it is anyways.


After a while we headed back down the mountain and broke camp. The hike back to the main entrance was much faster than on the way there because it was mostly downhill. The only bad thing was the wind which kicked the dust up into our eyes and made it difficult to see anything.  We made excellent time, and finally made it back to civilization. The shower in Puerto Natales was the best of my life, even though there was no water pressure or hot water. I didn’t even care.


1. I’m stronger than i thought i was

2. i swear a lot when I’m exhausted and in pain

3. Survival mode brings out the worst in everyone.  I learned things about myself that i didn’t know before. I also saw the worst of the people I was with. But even in that, we came out closer and better friends than before because we proved to each other that we are trustworthy and reliable even when we’re miserable.

4. When you’re miserable sometimes you think deep things. As I climbed the mountain to Las Torres I saw the parallel between what was happening to me and life in general. After I got back to comfort, I thought more about it.  Life hurts. It’s hard to keep going. It would be easier to give up and go back down but we keep going cause we know that it will grow us and make us stronger. Sometimes we stray off the path and have to work hard to return to it. But we hope that there will be something amazing at the end. And when it gets so unbearable that you literally can’t take one more step forward, God holds our hand and gives us that extra strength that we need.

Patagonia was an incredible experience that I learned a lot from and I’m so glad I went. I hope to return some day maybe with my family or Zach. Only time will tell 🙂

La Isla Negra

I went to La Isla Negra with our Resident Director and some of the other exchange students. The house of the late Chilean author, Pablo Neruda, is now a museum and it is beautiful. We couldn’t take photos inside of the museum but I’ll try to describe the general layout briefly.

The house is one room wide and is comprised of around 16 rooms. So it is very narrow and long and each room is designed to look like a ship or a train from the inside.  It is filled with many intriguing and beautiful artifacts and collections and fascinating furnishing. Ship sterns shaped like women, wooden angels, half a model ship against a mirror, a round table, huge windows overlooking the ocean, a bar which has the names of his friends carved into the beams, Japanese theater masks, butterfly collections, bottled ships, a totem pole that supposedly didn’t like to be looked at so Neruda removed one of it’s eyes, a plastic life-sized horse with three tails, a desk made of drift wood which he and his wife retrieved from the ocean together, a stone mural wall fashioned by his best friend, a glass table set on top of a huge ship wheel, several weird instruments, a writing desk and a random porcelain sink which wasn’t connected to anything, a room dedicated to his childhood memories, beautiful paintings, other random interesting items, and a bed which overlooked the ocean and faced east to west so the rose at the head and set at the foot. The last moments he spend in that house before he was taken to a hospital were spent in that bed.  His life seemed so interesting and wonderful! I felt very inspired by that trip.

We also visited some nearby beaches. Here are several pictures that I took that day.

The house from the outside:

DSCN4621 DSCN4615

A majestic dog and a selfie:

DSCN4588 DSCN4593


The contrasting mystically misty and super sunny beaches.

DSCN4598 DSCN4649


P.S. I haven’t updated my blog in like a month so there is so much to tell you all about! I’ll be posting about Patagonia, Pomaire, Machu Picchu, and general life very soon.

Mary, The British blokes, and the bridge.


I went to Santiago on Friday and Saturday at the beginning of October with other several exchange students from my campus. So here is the story of how I toured the presidential palace, met two stereotypical British blokes, visited the Virgin Mary, and climbed on top of a bridge.

We arrived in Santiago toured a museum of human rights. After that we toured the presidential palace. It was pretty awesome to see and learn about the history of the building and they types of things that happen inside.

Around 5 we checked into our hostels. We were told to meet again at 6:45. However, Jaime changed the plans and didn’t tell everyone! So six of us wandered around trying to find where everyone else was. We were told to go across the “only bridge in Santiago.” bull shit! There were like six of them that we saw in our wanderings! At any rate, we ended up at the wrong bridge, three times, before we finally found Jaime. One of the bridges was a traffic bridge with an arch over it and we saw some Chilean kids climbing on top of it. Of course, we climbed up it too! I was terrified but it gave me a nice adrenaline rush and a fun story to tell!

The first picture below is the metro station. The second picture below was taken from atop a bridge by Amos the Korean.

 DSCN4411 crazy

That night after we found Jaime, we went to several bars and ate food and drank beer. Four or five of the girls were set on finding a club to dance at, but at midnight we were “too early” to find anything that already had a lot of people. So we wandered around for forever until several of us got fed up and decided to drink a beer and then go back to the hostels to sleep. I was totally fine with that plan of action!

The next day, Jaime was really sick. Apparently he had been sick all along and didn’t tell anyone, which explains why he was so out of it and unorganized. I felt bad for being mad at him :/ Poor guy. Anyways, he turned over the tour to one of the older students. She took us to see the statue of the Virgin Mary.


The Virgin Mary and the view.

DSCN4468 DSCN4463

Below is a statue of Christ on the cross. It was interesting that his statue was located lower down on the hill than his mother’s statue.


My selfie got photobombed by Tristan and Josiah.

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This was a mural on a wall in Santiago.


The hostel that Tris, David, and I stayed at was called Hostal Providencia. My first hostel experience was a really nice and memorable one! We stayed in a mixed six person dorm room and met two blokes from Britain. We talked to them for maybe an hour while waiting to meet up with the rest of our group. There names are Richard and Tom, I believe, and they met in Rio for the World Cup and then decided to travel South America together. Apparently they were stuck in Santiago because Tom got robbed and was waiting for a new bank card. This was unfortunate for them, but awesome for us because they were hilarious! They said the most stereotypical British words and phrases such as, “This little bag has a handle! Huzzah!”,  “She said they were woman’s trousers…do these look like women’s trousers to you?”, and “He brought out sushi which was involved with the salmon,” and other such things.

That night Tris, David, and I came in around 2am. Tom was still awake reading in bed, and Richard was still out partying. The sixth bed was occupied with an unknown occupant who was already asleep. So we tiptoed around and went to bed.

At 5:30am Richard came back and woke us all up. We had a lovely conversation with the obviously drunk Richard. Suddenly he turned around and saw the unknown guy in the sixth bunk. He marched over to the bed, bent down to peer into the bottom bunk, and loudly inquired, “Who is this lump?!”  We all died laughing.

The second picture is of a festival that we went to before taking the bus home. There was a lot of dancing involved.

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I found los Estados Unidos (The United States) in Santiago! No one told me about that shortcut! I guess that means I need a refund on my return airplane ticket cause I can just take a bus. ?


This was the last picture on my camera from the Santiago trip. It sounded like Peruvian music, which I really love.


The bus ride home was interesting.  Now I laugh about it, but at the time it was awful. I wasn’t feeling good so I was super angry about the whole situation.  There wasn’t a bus until like an hour after we got to the station. So we sat around bored as frick for an hour. Then. THEN we unknowingly got on the wrong bus! It was the 5:05 bus instead of the 5:15 bus. They checked our tickets but still let us get on, of course. We rode that bus for around 20 minutes before they realized their mistake so they took us to another station and made us change buses. That process took about twenty minutes and we all felt really embarrassed. The Chileans were looking at us like, “haha look at those stupid gringos they got on the wrong bus!” Anyways. It was an adventure and we eventually got home.

So that was my Santiago adventure.