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.

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.

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!

Horse Packing / Backpacking

As with other places abroad I have lived and studied, I stick out. Being over 6 feet and blonde, its clear that I am not Chilean. This fact is made even more painfully obvious when I speak Spanish with a thick American accent, poor grammar, and fail to use “poo” and “che” throughout my sentences as any good local would. With that being said, I am living here as a temporary resident. I am here for a year. On one hand a year is a long time, but in the big scheme of things I am only passing through. I am not entirely a tourist, I’m not studying, and I’m not purely working. I’m in the gray area in the middle. I have found myself thinking about this a lot. How these labels define or don’t define my time here and my interactions with people.

Last week however, I went on a horse packing / backpacking trip with the Escuela de Guias and my role was clear. I was a tourist. One of the final tests for a group of graduating students from the school is to organize, prepare, and execute a trip for tourists. The tourists in this case were myself, Pancho, Tamara (a friend), and five other students from the school in the younger generation.

The trip prepared for us was along part of the Sendero de Chile from La Tapera to Lago Verde, north of Coyhaique and nearly on the boarder with Argentina. Not only did we escape the planning and group gear-packing process, but also throughout the trip we didn’t have to cook or wash dishes. And the best part, we had horses carrying the heavy gear! Backpacks are almost comfortable when all you have in them is your sleeping bag and some extra clothes. There are no pans awkwardly packed and stabbing you in the side or heavy food rationed out in plastic bags that you hope won’t explode.

We walked just under 70km (or roughly 45 miles) in three and a half days. The days were long with a good deal of elevation gain and loss, and included a number of absolutely frigid river crossings. The weather was unusually gentle and the scenery was beautiful. It’s fall here. Forever imprinted in my mind is this image: green dry pastures aside a winding river, flanked by trees whose leaves are a patchwork of yellow, orange and red; In the background, a jagged snowcapped mountain and bright blue sky speckled with clouds. I think some of my pictures capture bits and pieces of the landscape, but none do it justice. You need to be here, present with all your senses to get a complete picture. It was yet another great trip. I feel so lucky to have these opportunities.

Kayaking - Rio Simpson

Last Saturday, April 9th, I finally made it on the river. Rio Simpson is a mere 10-minuet walk from my house and hosts a number of class II to III rapids. I went with Pato and three of his friends. ‘Pato Kayak’ as he is known in Coyhaique truly loves the river. He taught himself how to roll and do tricks and despite a huge lack of readily available equipment and transportation, he tries to get out on the river everyday.

It was perfect weather as we headed for the river. Sunny and even warm, by Patagonia standards. The water is low right now as it’s the end of the summer but it was clear after the first rapid that low water meant plenty of fun technical moves around rocks and between eddies.

After the initial class III rapid, Pato and I caught up with three of his friends on sit-on-top kayaks. We continued on for a while through some flat water, riffles, and rapids up to class II. A few swims later by them, some intentional and some not, we came to a small beach where more friends and some family were picnicking. I thought the day was done. I was content to have been on the river but had hoped for some more difficult rapids. After a short break Pato hopped back in his kayaked, looked at me, and said “vamos.” We went down river further and I got my wish, we went through a handful more class III rapids before taking out.

It was a great day on the river, with beautiful scenery, and fantastic Patagonian weather. The river continues much further, all the way to the sea in fact. It has many more rapids up to class IV and a few waterfalls. Naturally, I want to paddle them. I also can’t wait for big water… all the snow in the mountains that I’ll be enjoying on my skis I’ll get to enjoy again when it melts and floods the river

:)

Cerro Castillo

About an hour and a half south of Coyahique along the bumpy, hilly, windy, mostly unpaved Carratera Austral is Cerro Castillo. I have been to this area twice. First, I went with Alex and Frida from CIEP to a few field sites collecting samples. The second time I went to attend a wedding.

Cerro Castillo is a jagged peak named for the spires that resemble a castle. It is just one mountain in a beautiful range covered with glaciers and surrounded by lakes, rivers, and pastures. (As a side note: I had never seen a glacier until this year. It blows my mind that it now seems like a normal thing to see them on a daily basis.)

On my first trip there, I was amazed at the scenery unfolding around every turn. And to make things even better, I was doing science. I was helping collect samples for a few different projects concerning plant response to defoliation, climate change, and tree line formation. As we were hiking up the steep rocky incline completely exposed to wind and sporadic rain so we could collect seedlings that had been planted and monitored for the last three years, I realized once again how much I love doing this. Not everyone would find this type of thing fun. But to me, cold wind-bitten hands, time spent repeatedly cleaning the dirt off plant roots, and labeling sample bags is almost heaven. With one of the most gorgeous views I have ever seen sprawled out behind me, I was contributing to the understanding of the local environment and hopefully in doing so helping to preserve it. And above all, I was learning. I genuinely love learning and the huge number of new experiences that I am having here means that I am constantly acquiring new knowledge. At times it’s incredibly overwhelming, but it’s awesome and I would not have it any other way.

After spending a day in Cerro Castillo I knew it was a place I would return to, but I didn’t think I would go back so soon. A week later, on my second trip there, I was still amazed at the scenery unfolding around every turn. I was graciously invited by Trace, another person I am working with at CIEP, to a wedding there. The wedding was between Cristian, a Chilean, and Mary, an American who now lives in Chile. It was a beautiful ceremony, and a lovely mix between Chilean and American traditions. Set with Cerro Castillo as the backdrop, friends and family gathered and the bride and groom rode in separately on their horses. The reception and asado afterwards, full of eating, drinking, and dancing, went into the wee hours of the night. Another great trip to Cerro Castillo.

The next step: There is a four-day hike that traverses Cerro Castillo and the surrounding mountain range. I have to do it.

Mi Casa!

Home sweet home. After a few weeks of living out of suitcases and backpacks, various hotels, cabins, hostels, and tents, I have a space to call my own.

I moved in almost two weeks ago now. Basic furniture and kitchenware was included, and I’m still working on adding things to make it more homey. It’s close to the center of town, the Escuela de Guias, and markets.

My street, lovely landscaping, mi casa, living area, wood stove - heat for the winter, bedroom