"in the midst of rain"

Ok-this is the last mini-entry in my mega-blog.

Considering how it rains almost every day in Concepcion-it was a quite a change to head to the desert. So much sand. Looking down through my tiny plane window I felt like I was watching a movie, that the giant stegosaurus like sand sculptures-it was so surreal--no green, no blue, just sand-lots of sand.










[I took like 360 pictures or something in San Pedro. I want to show some of them to you on the blog, but you should really check out the whole album if you have a chance. I will put the picture link to the album at the bottom of the blog.}

Several times throughout the weekend I felt like I was surrounded by surreal images. . . looming sand dunes sprinkled with foot prints, full moons beneath rainbow sunsets, geysers, salt formations, dirt roads and clay huts---the desert. Taking the hour bus ride from the airport to San Pedro de Atacama, I began to feel engulfed by the sublime beauty of the desert sand surrounding me. Who knew that there were places like this in the world? I have never been to a desert. Bama is pretty green for all of you who are wondering, like 65% forests or something crazy like that, so this was quite an experience for me. Akshai was running around doing little sand dances because he felt like he had stepped right back into Arizona, but I was mystified by this thing, the desert.

In many ways it has a calming effect-that sand--sorta like laying on the beach surrounded by the sound of waves--except this time it was always the whipping of the wind, the sand swirling around, dancing into your ears or onto your eyelashes.

Sometimes I felt very lost, as if at any moment I would take one more step into the sand and fall in. . . just fold myself into the huge mound and sleep. (I mostly had these feelings when I was hiking up large sand dunes and thought I might not make it to the top).

I had the same sorta feeling I had when we hiked in Torres del Paine--very small-a speck in the grand scheme of nature--a grain of sand--and although that feeling can be overwhelming and a little scary, it's also cool--to feel small and simultaneously significant and insignificant.

wait til you see the pictures.

I studied all week last week because I thought I had two tests on the friday before our holiday weekend. All my friends left a day early, so I was left studying. I arrived at both of my classes to discover that the tests had been delayed--and that of course everyone else knew--except me. bummer.

I took an overnight bus to Santiago--I almost missed my bus because I was confused by the signs on the buses and thought my bus hadn't arrived when really it had been there all along but had a sign for a different end destination. But--I finally asked and made it on to the bus (the last passenger) and as my bus-luck usually goes was seated next to an extremely large man. [I know that I say this every time--but I am not exaggerating.] They may have less obesity in Chile than in the states, but I have met the majority of the chileans that fall into that Category. They ALWays are seated next to me on the bus. The three times I have taken an overnight bus I have been seated next to unusually large folks. Which isn't a big deal (I mean I'm not a small person, and I come from a family of what they would call Giants here in Chile-I miss feeling short) except that I was a little uncomfortable, and he snored loudly the entire time,so I didn't get much sleep. I arrived to Santiago about 5am, took a taxi to the airport and was safely waiting for my plane to arrive in the gate about thirty minutes early and snacking on an apple.

The three hour plane ride was spectacular as if for Karma's sake I had an open seat next to me on a booked flight-so I had space to stretch and enjoy the view. They gave us these great snack packs that had peanuts, a brownie, and the manjar filled cookie thing. Remember manjar? It's awesome.

anyways, I landed about 10:30ish and then got on an hour and a half bus from Calama to San Pedro which was gorgeous. We were driving through the desert, and I couldn't unglue my eyes from the windows. The thing that I think surprised me most is how diverse desert landscape really is. It's not just a big pile of sand. There are mountains and valleys and crevices and all sorts of random formations.

We arrived to this San Pedro:

This is just one picture of the town.

We grabbed some lunch at this neat little restaurant that had a folk band:



Our new friend Christina that they met on the bus.

Then, we decided to go SAND BOARDING. I can't even begin to tell you guys how exciting this was. I, as you know, am only semi-athletic. And since I have spent most of my time here studying, reading, and eating--I'm not in my most tip-top shape even though I walk a lot. So. . . we basically get in our guide's pick-up truck and he drives us down through this valley called "Valley of death." We park and look up at this Gigantic sand dune. This is us preparing to sand board:


That's Tim (another fullbrighter), Kathleen (our german friend), Christina (random cool girl we met from Michigan), Akshai, Olivia (random cool girl we met from Texas), and TJ (another random cool kid we met from Michigan who randomly went to elementary school with Christina and just happened to run into her in the Chilean desert).


This is me when I was still clean and sand free.

Christina


Ok. . . so Christina took this next photo of me with my board before we began our adventure, and then she thought my pose was cool so I took one of her. Look closely and you will see which one of us is a real sand-boarder and which was of us was just posing.

REAL SAND BOARDER
WANNA BE-- Am i holding that thing like more like a musical instrument or a clutch purse?

me and akshai:
The gang.

Now remember, to see larger versions of these pictures just click on the link at the bottom of the blog and then click on the slideshow button.


Sand boarding is basically like snow boarding on sand. the board looks the same, you stand and move the same ways. I have never been snow boarding-I've never really done any type of boarding, unless knee boarding counts. As you can imagine, as I stared up at that huge dune my first thought was:

How am I going to make it up to the top in the first place?

and my second thought was:

I'm going to die. ha

anyways, we slowly hiked up the sand dune with our boards.
on our way up

Once we made it to the top , we saw that the bottom of the other side of the dune was much higher--so we could practice on that side while we learned until we moved up to the mac daddy dune. This is what the scenery was like from the top:

By the way, this was my board:


Our super cool instructor:

Akshai surfing the dune:

me looking like I know what I'm doing:


christina-non-stop entertainment:

This is how I spent the majority of my boarding experience:

just kidding--but it was exhausting to have to climb up the dune each time after you went down. by the end, I was like. . . umm you guys just tell me when you're ready to leave, and then I will make one last marvelous run down to the truck.

It was breathtaking:


Me right before I crashed and burned:


Look at me go!


I totally know how to sand board now, and let me tell you-I feel about ten percent cooler over all:


After conquering the dune:
. Whew.

We were out there for two hours, but it seemed like five. We had an absolute blast--most of us started out our boarding runs pretty well but the majority of the runs ended with either a face or a rear-end in the sand. I wasn't so lucky. I always started out all right, but when I fell-I fell hard-like rolling, flipping, swimming in the sand. If you can imagine--I had sand EVERYWHERE-in my ears, my face, down my shirt and pants. (we sand boarded in our bare feet). and I laughing commented that you could probably judge how good a sand boarder was based on the amount of sand they had on them-the less sand, the better-obviously.

I looked like the little four year old in the sand box who sits down, begins grabbing hand fulls of sand and throwing it on her head and down her pants-covering herself completely before she begins to eat the sand.

that was me.

I wasn't the worst in the group, but I was close. I still had a blast though. Akshai was a master sand boarder, but the best in our group was definitely Christina--she sand boards and was super amazing. She was also just a general treat to have around because she was always happy and optimistic. Random friends are the best kind.


So, that ends day one. We ate at amazing restaurants all weekend. Unfortunately, the town definitely charged tourist prices, but it was worth it.

I bought a hat, scarf, and gloves because we heard that our day 2 tour was supposed to be freezing cold:
that's color coordination at its best friends.

Day 2 began at 4am!!! We were picked up outside our hostels and began the two hourish bus ride to the geysers (I slept most of the ride). Here's Tim at 4:


It was just daylight when we got to the geysers, and I don't even know how to summarize the experience. They were amazing, but it wasn't just the geysers. It was the way the light played with the smoke as the sun rose and the way the shadows bounced off the water with the blue sky and bright landscape in the background. It was so cold that our fingers and toes were actually seriously numb for at least two hours:



Check it out (here's just a few of the many I took):






I was just standing around when I saw the light hit just right and starting snapping shots of Tim. I'm really proud of these pictures. They make me feel like a real photographer:



Especially this one:

Isn't that cool???

Tim:


In front of the biggest geyser called the assassin:


We saw some cactus. This is me looking like I'm grabbing the cactus-


We were worn out when we got back. We bought some supplies and had a barbecue in the hostel:

I bought that sweater there, sweet huh?

Day 3 We went to the Valley of the moon or Valley de la luna. SUPER COOL

These tours were all really cool. This one started at a neat cliff overlooking another valley. Tim, Elizabeth, Rachyl (all fullbrighters) and me went on this tour. Here we are posing on the cliff:




walking down into Valley of the Death:

our guide:

group shot:

then we went through a cave, spelunking if you will:




Then we headed to the Valley of the Moon. And in order to see the sunset from the best place we had to hike up this HUGE dune. I hate sand hiking because it's like step, swoosh, slide, step, swoosh, slide. But it was totally worth it once we got up:
The valley of the moon on our way up to the top of the dune. See why they call it that?
and WE made it! almost died but we made it:

view from the top:


sorry this one is sideways:



and on the way back down:







and our last night at a great restaurant with an open ceiling with a bonfire in the middle of the floor:
Akshai mid-sentence:


So--I guess that's about it. Well, a couple of other things happened. Two chilean guys told me they thought I was European.

I had this long intense conversation about Alabama and the south with some folks who made the statement that people from Alabama "don't leave Alabama" implying we were all too stupid to leave. Some kid was even like I mean Meredith you're the first person I have ever met from Alabama, has anyone else Ever met anyone from Alabama??" I am finding more and more that people have an extremely skewed and generalized view of Alabama and the south as a whole. People are mystified that I am from Alabama, and I hope that I help to re-adjust people's negative images of Alabama and the South, by people I mean Chileans and other US citizens. I realize that Alabama has its issues, but there are brighter and duller people in Alabama, just like there are in EVERY state.

Don't we always come back to the place where we realize that all-encompassing generalizations never completely hold up. I mean seriously.

seriously. When people ask me where I'm from here--I usually don't say the US first, I say Alabama. I am proud to be from Alabama, proud of where we are and how far we are from where we've been, proud of where we hope to go--

somos lo que somos. We are who we are. and all we can do is try to be true and honest to ourselves.

I've been swamped lately with tests every week and apartment searching. I have two more tests this friday on four different books, so I'll be reading for most of the week. Hopefully, I am headed to Santiago next weekend to visit with some friends from San Francisco who will be flying in.

I am really behind on post-card sending. I promise as soon as I get a chance to breathe I will send out another batch. I miss you guys so much-if you get a chance send me an email and let me know how you are--

now-CLICK on this picture to see the full album:

San Pedro de Atacama

and then make sure you click on slideshow.

I'm adjusting to autumn here--in the midst of rain.

hope you and yours are happy and safe,

una aurora,
Mere

This poem is from my favorite book of Neruda's, Residencia en la tierra

and I'm super tired so I'm only going to type it in English this time, sorry:

Autumn Returns

A day in mourning falls from the bells
like a trembling vague-widow cloth,
it is a color, a dream
of cherries buried in the earth,
it is a tail of smoke that restlessly arrives
to change the color of the water and the kisses.

I do no know if I make myself clear: when from on high
night approaches, when the solitary poet
at the window hears autumn's steed running
and the leaves of trampled fear rustle in his arteries,
there is something over the sky, like the tongue of a thick
ox, something in the doubt of the sky and the atmosphere.

Things return to their places,
the indispensable lawyer, the hands, the olive oil,
the bottles,
all the traces of life: the beds, above all,
are filled with a bloody liquid,
people deposit their confidences in sordid ears,
assassins go down stairs,
it is not this, however, but the old gallop,
the horse of the old autumn that trembles and endures.

The horse of the old autumn has a red beard
and the foam of fear covers its cheeks
and the air that follows it is shaped like an ocean
and a perfume of vague buried putrefaction.

Every day down from the sky comes an ashen color
that doves must spread over the earth:
the cord that forgetfulness and weeping weave,
time that has slept long years within the bells,
everything.
the old tattered suits, the women who see snow coming,
the black poppies that no one can look at without dying,
everything falls into the hands that I lift
in the midst of rain.