A much belated sequel to my weekend in Constitución

Cody and I left the bus station around 9pm and walked back to his house. I found comparing our experiences with our respective encounters ith Chilean culture to be highly amusing. Cody lives in a mansion (relatively speaking) with an elderly widow, lives within a few blocks of five (FIVE?!) other volunteers from our program, and speaks English on a very regular basis (as he spends significant time with the American volunteers in the evenings and on the weekends). I, on the other hand, live in a town that doesn't even have a stoplight and uses dial-up modems. However, we have come to the conclusion that when push comes to shove, they're all the same sock-wearing, blow-drying, bread-consuming, claiming-to-be-Catholic-but-rarely-attend-mass breed. Anyhow, Cody's host mom had a huge dinner awaiting us. She piled my plate high with absurdly generous portions of rice and pork sausages. I tried to tell her that it was too much but she waved away my protests and set the plate on the table with authority. I guess I was hungrier than I thought because I cleaned my plate and still had room for dessert (honey and strawberry crepes). Heh.

After a three-hour dinner (during which Cody's host mom and I conversed and Cody said, "Sí, sí, sí"), Cody and I waddled over to another volunteer's house. On the way he asked what his host mom and I had been talking about. "Why? Weren't you listening?" I asked skeptically. He then proceeded to tell me that he doesn't understand a word she says and that he just says "Sí" to everything. Perhaps the grass isn't always greener. Anyhow, the volunteer that we were going to visit hadn't been one of my favorites during orientation. For starters, her name is Kirby. She is from LA and my first impression of her was her asking our program director "whether or not hair salons down here do a decent job of touching up highlights." That said, I wasn't surprised to hear that her experience in Chile had not met her expectations and she had bought an early ticket home. In fact, when we arrived at her house, she was in the process of packing her bags. I suppressed the urge to laugh as she told us how she had been chased by a pack of rabid street dogs when she took up power walking as a way to relieve her stress. We sat in her plush living room and listened to her rant about water pressure and slow wifi. (Note: In my host house, I'm more concerned about getting all of the shampoo out of my hair before the water turns from lukewarm to icy cold.)

We finally made our way back to Cody's house around 2am. I took a piping hot shower in my private guest bathrrom, went to sleep in my king-size bed under a down comforter, and tried very hard not to be bitter about the injustice of the disparity between our living conditions. 

The next morning, Cody and I woke up around 6:30, ate a quick breakfast and aimlessly walked a few blocks in a random direction until we found a taxi. We asked the driver (who smelled suspiciously of rum) to take us to the train station, and were hence dropped off in a shady part of town where the driver "thought the station was." Having heard (from the neighbor's cousin), that the morning train departed at 7am, we were moderately panicked. I still don't quite know how it happened, but we played the "left, right, or straight?" game and somehow miraculously found ourselves boarding the train as the conductor was blowing the "final call" whistle. We commended ourselves on our navigation skills but we both knew it was just dumb luck.

The train from Talca to Constitución takes a little over three hours while the bus takes only two. Cody and I opted for the train ride because we heard that it was both cheaper and more scenic. The morning in question was overcast, icy cold, and impossibly foggy. Furthermore, the window glass was incredibly scratched. This resulted in our spectacular view which you can see below.

 

At first, I wasn't exactly sure how it was possible that a bus could move more efficiently than a train. That was before we stopped multiple times so that the conductor could move a crate of tomatoes obstructing the tracks, move a stubborn cow, buy a flat of eggs, and (in all seriousness) take a pee break in the woods. In America, this inefficiency would enrage me. Here, however, Cody and I had a good laugh and still prided ourselves on saying the equivalent of two American dollars. 

When we arrived in Constitución, our friend May was waiting for us at the train station. From there, we walked around town, ate a few meals, explored the beach, and brushed up on our English (or at least it was a brush-up for me). Pictures will probably say more than my narration will for the rest of the weekend. Have at it:

Cody and I wearing every article of clothing in front of our train:

Just kidding. This was our train:

A few pictures we took when the conductor stopped to pee:

I really wanted to make this picture happen (it didn´t quite turn out the way I had envisioned because my head wouldn´t fit out the window)...

After meeting up with May...and her giving us a tour of the scenic (eh) Constitución...which includes two pictures of the wood plant (all of those little sticks are tree trunks):

A few pictures from the coast:

Cody taking a picture...and the famous Elephant Rock (appropriately named).

I win.