I am used to packing an extra layer when I go to the movies. They always seem to blast the AC. I went to the movies for the first time here in Coyhaique this weekend. The single theatre hosts a new movie about two weekends out of every month. My roommate Pancho and I went to the matinee showing of Piratas del Caribe: navegando aguas misteriosas (or, Pirates Of The Caribbean: On Stranger Tides) and like I am accustomed to doing I brought along an extra layer... and another layer, and a hat, and a pair gloves. Not for the AC, but because its winter in Patagonia and woods stoves can only do so much.
This colder weather is making me antsy for the snow to arrive so I can get some use out of my AT skis that are currently stashed under my bed. This region is perfect for a lot of outdoor sports and skiing is certainly no exception. Really all of South America, with the Andes running the length of the continent, has an endless amount of back country terrain for those willing to go out and find it and earn their turns. Sweetgrass Productions is currently filming here in South America (including Chilean Patagonia!) for an incredible new movie, Solitaire. They are putting out a new behind the scenes video every month. Hucking the gnar, exploring SA, learning about the culture, and living the dream. I can't wait to see the final product... or better yet I can't wait to get out to the mountains myself.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Publication!
I am not much of a reader. I have never really been one to sit down and read a novel for fun. In fact I don't even think I made it all the way through the first Harry Potter book... thank goodness they made them into movies. I do, however, love reading magazines and newspapers. One of my favorites is Outside magazine and now that I live in Chile a new favorite is la revista Outdoors, the Chilean equivalent of Outside.
But truthfully, I don't want to just sit on the couch or lay in bed and read about other people doing cool things in these magazines, I want to BE the person doing those cool things. I have always told friends, "just wait, one of these days it will be me, it will be the things I am doing, that people will be reading about." Some believe me, some don't, but it doesn't really matter much. I believe in myself.
In the June issue of Outdoors Revista there is an article about the horse packing trip and accompanying an wonderful article written by Pancho Vio are a few of my photos. The fist of hopefully many successes.
I am not going to stop doing what I love nor am I going to start to do things in an attempt to rack up more publications. I have never been one for resume building. I consider this a success because these 'cool things', like working with the Guide School, backpacking, and exploring Patagonia, make me happy. I think in the end being genuine shows through. Having something I was a part of out there for people to read, to entertain them, to educate them, and to hopefully inspire them to get off their couch or out of their bed and go DO something they love... that is a pretty awesome thought.
But truthfully, I don't want to just sit on the couch or lay in bed and read about other people doing cool things in these magazines, I want to BE the person doing those cool things. I have always told friends, "just wait, one of these days it will be me, it will be the things I am doing, that people will be reading about." Some believe me, some don't, but it doesn't really matter much. I believe in myself.
In the June issue of Outdoors Revista there is an article about the horse packing trip and accompanying an wonderful article written by Pancho Vio are a few of my photos. The fist of hopefully many successes.
I am not going to stop doing what I love nor am I going to start to do things in an attempt to rack up more publications. I have never been one for resume building. I consider this a success because these 'cool things', like working with the Guide School, backpacking, and exploring Patagonia, make me happy. I think in the end being genuine shows through. Having something I was a part of out there for people to read, to entertain them, to educate them, and to hopefully inspire them to get off their couch or out of their bed and go DO something they love... that is a pretty awesome thought.
Monday, June 6, 2011
I Did What?
I bought a car. 1997 Black 4x4 diesel Nissan Terrano. Oh yeah!
The decision to buy a car or not was haunting me. More than anything else, more than work, more than having to speak in Spanish, more than adjusting to the everyday life and culture of Patagonia, buying a car was causing me stress. And for those of you who know me well, I usually don't stress. I find it kind of funny that in a region that really has one road running though it, the mostly unpaved carretera austral, that this is what was on my mind.
I asked pretty much everyone I know here for their opinion and there were valid points for both perspectives. I thought long and hard, if not too hard, on the matter and in the end I did what I always do... I went for it.
Who would have thought that the first car I have ever bought in my life, would be one in Patagonia. Forget about the adventure of owning a car here, it was an experience in and of itself buying the car. First, I had to find one which meant I needed to overcome one of my biggest fears here... having to call people and talk in spanish to people on my cheap phone with terrible sound quality. Second, I took it to a mechanic to make sure I wasnt buying a complete lemon. Third, I needed to figure out a way to get money to pay for the car. I bought the car in cash and after going to literally every single bank in Coyhaique and calling PNC Bank via Skpe a few times, I found a way to get past the daily limits for ATM withdraws. Fourth, I had to finally buy the car. This meant interpreting all the legal documents, waiting in lines at various offices, until finally I had documents in my name, keys in hand, and drove off with my new auto.
So far so good. I love my car, but it does have its quirks. Like a lot of cars here, mine was imported from Japan. The user manual is in Japanese and therefore useless to me. The steering wheel has been moved from the right side to the left side so with that comes a few electrical problems with the dash. Currently my odometer, gas gauge, odometer, and temperature gauge don't work. One of the terminals on the battery comes loose sometimes but after a little whack, we are back in business. And the back window is a little loose so it squeaks when I roll over bumps. But, its got good tires, four wheel drive, a strong engine, space for friends and gear, and a radio to blast my tunes!
In the end, the most I will lose is money, and that is replaceable. What I gain is the freedom to roam and explore Patagonia which to me is worth so much more than money.
The decision to buy a car or not was haunting me. More than anything else, more than work, more than having to speak in Spanish, more than adjusting to the everyday life and culture of Patagonia, buying a car was causing me stress. And for those of you who know me well, I usually don't stress. I find it kind of funny that in a region that really has one road running though it, the mostly unpaved carretera austral, that this is what was on my mind.
I asked pretty much everyone I know here for their opinion and there were valid points for both perspectives. I thought long and hard, if not too hard, on the matter and in the end I did what I always do... I went for it.
Who would have thought that the first car I have ever bought in my life, would be one in Patagonia. Forget about the adventure of owning a car here, it was an experience in and of itself buying the car. First, I had to find one which meant I needed to overcome one of my biggest fears here... having to call people and talk in spanish to people on my cheap phone with terrible sound quality. Second, I took it to a mechanic to make sure I wasnt buying a complete lemon. Third, I needed to figure out a way to get money to pay for the car. I bought the car in cash and after going to literally every single bank in Coyhaique and calling PNC Bank via Skpe a few times, I found a way to get past the daily limits for ATM withdraws. Fourth, I had to finally buy the car. This meant interpreting all the legal documents, waiting in lines at various offices, until finally I had documents in my name, keys in hand, and drove off with my new auto.
So far so good. I love my car, but it does have its quirks. Like a lot of cars here, mine was imported from Japan. The user manual is in Japanese and therefore useless to me. The steering wheel has been moved from the right side to the left side so with that comes a few electrical problems with the dash. Currently my odometer, gas gauge, odometer, and temperature gauge don't work. One of the terminals on the battery comes loose sometimes but after a little whack, we are back in business. And the back window is a little loose so it squeaks when I roll over bumps. But, its got good tires, four wheel drive, a strong engine, space for friends and gear, and a radio to blast my tunes!
In the end, the most I will lose is money, and that is replaceable. What I gain is the freedom to roam and explore Patagonia which to me is worth so much more than money.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Fulbright Testimonial
A short piece I wrote for the Fulbright Chile Newsletter:
Here in Coyhaique, and throughout Patagonia, almost all homes are heated with a wood stove. The winters are long and cold, so as you can imagine an immense amount of firewood is consumed. As my family and friends in the US are entering the summer season, swapping sweaters and boots for shorts and flip-flops, I’m starting to wear long-underwear under my jeans and bringing along my hat, scarf, and gloves everywhere I go.
One of the first things I did when I settled into the home I’m renting was call to have my winter supply of firewood delivered. A half hour later, in pulled the truck loaded to the tippy top with leña. This was not a dump truck, just an old Ford pick up with built up sides, so the wood needed to be unloaded from the truck by hand. Not one to ever have a man do something for me as I stand there useless and watch, I climbed up into the truck bed on top of the pile and started to help heave the logs onto my poor grassy lawn. After the truck was empty, I handed over my pesos, said chau to Marcelo, and watched the now significantly lighter truck drive away. Then it dawned on me, I needed to move all this firewood into my shed before schizophrenic Patagonian weather had the chance to drench it with rain. Five hours later I had stacked the often awkwardly shaped logs in nice neat rows. I was exhausted, dirty, and despite the cool breezy air and periodical sprinkles, I was drenched in sweat.
Patagonia conjures up different images for everyone. Some think of a land of extremes, of ice and volcanoes, of the steppe and Andean peaks. Some think of it as a place full of untapped resources both to enjoy and to exploit. Some think of it as a difficult but rich and fulfilling place to live and raise a family. Some think of the clothing brand, Conservation Patagonia, Patagonia Sin Represas, or the movie 180 South. Some think of a rugged expansive landscape at the end of the world. I have had the opportunity to travel throughout the region of Aysén getting to know the people, the towns, the landscape, and the culture and form my own picture. Forever engrained in my mind when I think of Patagonia, are images of curious guanacos roaming the pampas, crystal turquoise rivers and lakes, jagged glacier wrapped peaks, endless sky, weathered gauchos riding their horses, and bumpy curvy but spectacular dirt roads.
However, more than this, more than the awe-inspiring portraits of natural and cultural beauty, living in Patagonia has reminded me of the value of living simply, working hard, and earning a good night of sleep. The landscape and climate here are equally unforgiving as they are stunning, there are more cows and sheep than people, and you can't just press a button on your thermostat to turn up the heat. Some of my favorite days here are the ones spent splitting that wood I stacked three months ago, tending the fire, sitting around the stove, and drinking mate. I still spend hours straight sitting at my computer sometimes and there are days when I wake up in the early morning to a cold room and have no desire to leave my warm bed to rebuild the fire, but I am learning. It’s really easy to get caught up in always planning for your future, obscuring your priorities, and losing perspective, but here in Patagonia both out of necessity and out of nostalgia, you have to slow down and worry about living life in that moment. Making sure you have fire wood and that it is stacked, dry, and ready for the winter is just as important as remembering to respond to an email for work. I love that balance. If I could change one thing, I would have chopped down the trees for the firewood in el campo myself. Oh well… next time.
Here in Coyhaique, and throughout Patagonia, almost all homes are heated with a wood stove. The winters are long and cold, so as you can imagine an immense amount of firewood is consumed. As my family and friends in the US are entering the summer season, swapping sweaters and boots for shorts and flip-flops, I’m starting to wear long-underwear under my jeans and bringing along my hat, scarf, and gloves everywhere I go.
One of the first things I did when I settled into the home I’m renting was call to have my winter supply of firewood delivered. A half hour later, in pulled the truck loaded to the tippy top with leña. This was not a dump truck, just an old Ford pick up with built up sides, so the wood needed to be unloaded from the truck by hand. Not one to ever have a man do something for me as I stand there useless and watch, I climbed up into the truck bed on top of the pile and started to help heave the logs onto my poor grassy lawn. After the truck was empty, I handed over my pesos, said chau to Marcelo, and watched the now significantly lighter truck drive away. Then it dawned on me, I needed to move all this firewood into my shed before schizophrenic Patagonian weather had the chance to drench it with rain. Five hours later I had stacked the often awkwardly shaped logs in nice neat rows. I was exhausted, dirty, and despite the cool breezy air and periodical sprinkles, I was drenched in sweat.
Patagonia conjures up different images for everyone. Some think of a land of extremes, of ice and volcanoes, of the steppe and Andean peaks. Some think of it as a place full of untapped resources both to enjoy and to exploit. Some think of it as a difficult but rich and fulfilling place to live and raise a family. Some think of the clothing brand, Conservation Patagonia, Patagonia Sin Represas, or the movie 180 South. Some think of a rugged expansive landscape at the end of the world. I have had the opportunity to travel throughout the region of Aysén getting to know the people, the towns, the landscape, and the culture and form my own picture. Forever engrained in my mind when I think of Patagonia, are images of curious guanacos roaming the pampas, crystal turquoise rivers and lakes, jagged glacier wrapped peaks, endless sky, weathered gauchos riding their horses, and bumpy curvy but spectacular dirt roads.
However, more than this, more than the awe-inspiring portraits of natural and cultural beauty, living in Patagonia has reminded me of the value of living simply, working hard, and earning a good night of sleep. The landscape and climate here are equally unforgiving as they are stunning, there are more cows and sheep than people, and you can't just press a button on your thermostat to turn up the heat. Some of my favorite days here are the ones spent splitting that wood I stacked three months ago, tending the fire, sitting around the stove, and drinking mate. I still spend hours straight sitting at my computer sometimes and there are days when I wake up in the early morning to a cold room and have no desire to leave my warm bed to rebuild the fire, but I am learning. It’s really easy to get caught up in always planning for your future, obscuring your priorities, and losing perspective, but here in Patagonia both out of necessity and out of nostalgia, you have to slow down and worry about living life in that moment. Making sure you have fire wood and that it is stacked, dry, and ready for the winter is just as important as remembering to respond to an email for work. I love that balance. If I could change one thing, I would have chopped down the trees for the firewood in el campo myself. Oh well… next time.
Its Been a While...
Lots has happened since my last blog post. Make sure to check out the tons of new photos I added: www.picasaweb.com/empierson11
I have moved forward on my work here with the Escuela de Guias and CIEP. I have protested the dams for a Patagonia sin represas. I have bought a car (loco). I have used that car to take an amazing trip south to Tortel while a friend was visiting. And I have continued to stay open to as many experiences as possible, balancing the past, present, and future. So much to do!
I have moved forward on my work here with the Escuela de Guias and CIEP. I have protested the dams for a Patagonia sin represas. I have bought a car (loco). I have used that car to take an amazing trip south to Tortel while a friend was visiting. And I have continued to stay open to as many experiences as possible, balancing the past, present, and future. So much to do!
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