Monday, March 16

Day 200-Chillán


For the record I must state-I am not sick, I am not tired, I am not scared, I am not bored. But I am broke, so when I received word that I might have a fat project to chew on if I make it back by April 1st, there was really no debate to be had. Truth is I could have only lasted another couple of weeks, and either way, 4 weeks or 6 is no way to experience South America. Having tasted what is here, already I am forming plans for a 4 to 6 month visit in the hopefully not too distant future. I will need to rebuild the travel coffers and work on my comprehension of Spanish, which is a daily source of embarassment.

Touring north along the Panamerican Hiway is not exactly exciting, but it is interesting and easy. The climate changes from maritime down on the island of Chiloé, where the roads are lined with Scots Broom, Fushia and this cute little flowering laurel, and the general verdancy attest to a tendancy toward the misty. As we travel north, 7 or 8 hours a day on the bus (I will admit to feeling abit injured in the kidneys) the fields of recently harvested grain become larger, the windbreaks of pine and lombardy popular stand in straight rows, the air becomes dry and dusty, until finally we are amoung acacia scrub dunes and lengthy plantations of eucalyptus. I begin to get a sense of the great desert that lies to the north of me, tantalizing but unreachable.

The cities I slumber in are unremarkable, a plaza every few blocks, the gente out for evening paseo, ice cream and cake devoured endlessly by these pudgy folks...and myself. The sycamores that line the avenues are turning and losing there leaves in the evening breezes, and I feel a strange melancoly. While I should be delighting in the promise of a new spring, rather I am mourning the passing of a summer I never saw, a strange upheaval of my annual rythym. There will be little to comment on for the next couple of weeks, though I do have a couple of side trips planned to some notable locations. I have certainly been unmotivated to report at times, and I am sure you have grown weary of this rag. But I am determined to finish, post until the final day, and I hope you will stay with me a bit longer. There is more truth to tell.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

and when you run out of truth, you can always fall back upon lies. some days, that distinction is just so muddled.