Showing posts with label Chile. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chile. Show all posts

Sunday, September 20, 2009

E-mail from my Dad

I arrived in Chile late Saturday night. I had internet at the house so I managed to post a couple blogs during my first few days there. The first was about changing my pants in line and climbing over the guy on the plane, and the second was about watching Walker Texas Ranger in Spanish.

On Wed I got this e-mail from my dad:

Hi Kevin,

Your blogs are interesting, but a TV show you didn't like and changing your pants in public didn't tell us much about your trip so far. How is the family you are staying with? Are you having fun? Is your Spanish coming back?

If you have already posted this info someplace then let us know. Hope you are enjoying yourself!

Love,
Dad and Mom

Chile

Then my friend Mark said to me in a voice of disgust, "Sleeping Dogs and Laundry? I wanted to see you on the mountain tops, and I get sleeping dogs and laundry."

Sorry. I didn't think people wanted to read about the mundane details of my trip. However, I've had several people ask to see pictures, and a few others ask for trip details.

So for my dad, Mark, and the rest of you I wrote some more about my Chile, and I also posted photos on my other blog. Click here to view them. This is in addition to what I already wrote on this blog about my Chile experience.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

The Price of Laundry

Cold weather. Warm clothes and snow-skiing attire. Two-week vacation. One large duffle bag. I planned on doing laundry once during the trip. I packed accordingly.

My first week we had a washer at the house, but no dryer. I was told I would have to buy my own detergent if I wanted to wash my clothes. Hanging all my clothes from a line, in the winter, just seemed like a major operation. After some deliberation I decided I would just wait until I got to the hotel and do a load of laundry there. It was a nice hotel; maybe they even have free laundry service.

I arrived at the hotel on Saturday afternoon with a bag full of mostly dirty clothes. I went to the front desk to ask them about laundry service. He made a quick call and then told me that regular service didn’t resume until Monday and if I wanted my clothes washed immediately it would cost 50% more. I must have had a puzzled look on my face, so he explained.

“For example if a shirt costs 4000 to wash normally, now it would be 6000.”

What? 6000? I understood 50% more. I do teach math for a living. What I didn’t understand was the example. 6000 pesos (approximately $12.00) to wash a shirt? One shirt. Maybe that was just a hypothetical example. 4000 is a nice easy number for the mathematical computations. I requested the regular service.

Minutes later a guy arrived at my hotel room. I showed him a bag of laundry and asked him how much to wash the whole load. He explained that I would have to pay for each piece seperately. Really? I can’t just do a load of laundry. I didn’t even ask him the price at that point. If I have to pay to wash each pair of underwear individually I’m not sure I want to know the price. I refused the service and cordially sent the guy away, but I wanted to say, “You agree this is ridiculous right? How much for you to take it home and wash the load at your place?”

I looked up the prices.

Shirts: 4,000. Under Shirts: 2,200. Underwear: 2,000. Socks: 1,700. Pants: 3,500.

Four bucks to wash a pair of underwear? Are you kidding? I just washed and dried a whole load for $2.25. Let’s assume after the week I had 7 shirts, 7 pairs of boxers, 6 pairs of socks, 1 pair of shorts, and 2 pair of pants. That total for the hotel would be 52,000 Chilean pesos. Using the hotel’s conversion rate, it comes to 104 U.S. dollars for me to do one load of laundry. (And I wouldn’t even consider it a large load.) That’s almost what I spent for my first week of lodging.

We switched hotels to the Marriott, an even nicer hotel (with significantly more expensive laundry prices). Now, after a couple more days of trying to wear my clothes that were “less dirty,” I decided to take action.

I used the bathtub.

At the start and the end of this process the idea seemed reasonable. It was that moment in the middle, when I was in the bathroom of a 5-star hotel ringing my clothes out by hand wondering if they would dry before I left Chile, that the idea seemed questionable. I hung them out across the shower bar the best I could and hoped they would dry in the hotel. I questioned what the maid thought when she serviced our room, but… she’s probably seen the laundry prices too.

The clothes were moved to our board room (yeah, we had a meeting room in our business sweet) to finish drying. The next day, with a little assistance from a hair dryer, I put on clean clothes.


Friday, August 21, 2009

Monday, August 17, 2009

Lugares Diferentes

When I go to another country I want to experience the culture. I try to eat the typical food, drink the typical drinks, and understand their way of life. Having said that, I must admit it is nice to wash my hands with hot water during the winter. My first week in Chile I took Spanish classes and lived with a couple that taught at my school. Thanks to Sarah’s planning and generosity, the next week I stayed in a couple really nice hotels. Both were great experiences; neither was typical for me. The contrast between the two was evident.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

The Finish Line

I thought watching Walker Texas Ranger on TV was about as bad as it got. However, I just found something worse. Walker Texas Ranger dubbed in Spanish. I had no idea Chuck Norris could sound like that.

The show itself was as bad as ever. After some frantic behavior the viewers saw Chuck Norris in a race car, presumingly racing against drivers that actually did this regularly.

He put his helmet on as the race began and the blond came over and kissed him with fear in her eyes and love in her heart.

¨Cuidadate¨
¨Siempre.¨

Then what seemed like about a 7-minute race ensued. I don´t know how someone could write a half-hour T.V. program and think it to be a good idea to have a 7-minute slow-motion finally with no dialouge, but it happened. And to the surprise of no one Walker Texas Ranger won the race, and the people were saved.

But it was close. Real Close. Oh, the suspense!

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Breaking Social Etiquette

At the airport, after midnight, in an enourmous line to get a boarding pass, I was growing impatient. Wearing jeans for the first time in weeks I stood there uncomfortable. I wanted to change but not lose my place in line, and all travelers know that leaving your bags unattended at the airport is one of the top five airport sins. I think it´s between trying to pass through the medal detector with your shoes on, and not flying first-class when you weigh over 300 pounds.

Despite the four young women speaking Spanish behind me, the American couple in front of me, and the rest of the line I took action. I pulled shorts out and laid them neatly on my bag, and took off my shoes. Then right there in line dropped my pants, and put on my shorts. I faced forward as I did to avoid eye contact with the women behind me. The four latinas didn´t say anything, but I have a feeling they were thinking, ¨Those shorts do look more comfortable.¨

Sometimes you have to be assertive in this world.

On the flight to Honduras I was wedged between two sleeping men. Unable to sleep as I had hoped I began watching the movie. I saw John Malkovich portray a washed-up magician fighting to hold unto a career already over. It was one of those movies like, The Weather Man, or more recently the animated Coroline, that when finished you just ask yourself, ¨Why?¨

The flight was was six and half hours long. I had no watch, but I figured with one movie down I still had over four hours to go. I was even more awake now, and desired to use the bathroom. But I was stuck. The man on the aisle was asleep and looked like the type of guy that didn´t plan to use the bathroom (or speak or move) the entire flight. I´m not totally sure he was a real person. I contemplated calling an attendant to help ask him to move, but instead I took action. Sitting there awake in frustration in a dark plane with everyone else asleep counting the seconds for over four hours was a torture I didn´t want to experience.

Without shoes on I reached over and presssed down on the zombie´s far armrest to test if it could support my weight without interferring with him. Then, on an airplane, I climbed over a complete stranger without waking him up. I went to the bathroom, pulled out my drugs, and climbed back into my seat. Again the man was unaware. With a feeling of accomplishment, a smile on my face, an empty bladder, and drug assistance eventually I too nodded off.

Sometimes you have to be assertive in this world.