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.