![Picture](/uploads/9/1/8/2/9182665/20160807-145328.jpg?264)
Day 2 (Saturday):
Having gone to sleep at like 6, we obviously slept until late. Late meaning noon though, but I was fresh despite the little sleep I had got since leaving home. When I got out of my room my luggage that had been left in Miami stood outside the door waiting for me. I had spent the night in my friend’s very big (for me) t-shirt, but now I could both get properly dressed and in my own clothes.
We had Chilean breakfast; toasted bun with mashed avocado on, and freshly pressed orange juice. Or that is…it was supposed to be orange juice, but his dad had accidentally bought grapefruit. Grapefruit juice was nice too though, it just needed a bit of sugar.
At 16.00 my friend was gonna go compete in amateur volleyball, so we drove downtown in the afternoon. Some of the guys on the team were people from some of the parties the night before. They had decided to meet at 15.30, although we were running late for some reason I can’t remember. At 16,00 the other team was not there yet though, and so my friend’s team won by default. They decided to keep the court and play for a while. The other team - or that is five people from the other team - showed up around 10-15 minutes late, but they had already lost, or would have lost since they didn’t have their last member. The two teams played until the next match was due to start and maybe it was a good thing that my friends won by default because…they were losing.
After the match we went to take a look at some AirBnB’s that I had arranged to see, so I could decide where to stay. After all, 3 weeks is a long time to be in a place you don’t like.
We couldn’t come see the last place until 21.00, so we decided to go home in the meantime, get some dinner, get ready to go out and see the place on our way to this evening’s parties. We had some of the chicken that was leftover from lunch. At home I’m used to pouring the chicken broth over the rice or chicken or whatever I’m having with it. Here, we get broth in small cups, then you can either dip, pour it over, or just drink it. My friend “loves” drinking it, but I went with the second option…
His brother drove us to the flat in the evening. The house number was 1590, which to me sounds like it would be the longest street in the world…but the first number, 15, marks how many blocks it is from some main street. So 15 blocks away, no. 90 - of that block, not of the street...I think. Either way I actually think it’s quite clever. Mi Parque is 1213 - 13 blocks away.
Afterwards we drove to a really fancy house in the modern part of the city. When you hear modern, or at least in Kenya when they hear modern, you think skyscrapers in glass. Well, they have that in the modern area too, but this was a residential area, with only villas so far the eye could reach, but really fancy one. My friend’s brother told me his friend’s mother who lived there was an interior designer so that’s why it was extra fancy.
Again, the party was outside on a, again, really fancy patio with nice outdoor furniture. People were drinking Pisco cola, smoking (I feel like everyone smokes) and there were plenty of chips and Chilean candy that didn’t exactly taste brilliant. This was a somewhat different house party than the one the night before since these weren’t exchange students…most of the time I was talking to my friend, since I could hardly understand what anyone else was saying. We were reminding ourselves of the good old times in Paris, he told me how he had won the competition, what we had done at certain voluntary times and who we stayed in touch with.
Then we were gonna drive to Bellavistas, the touristy/exchange student/main party/lively area of town. So, being the designated driver, it was my turn to drive. To of their friends joined too. One of them had heard of Iceland’s football achievements and ‘loved me’ for having done the so-called Viking clap.
When we had driven for a while, and finally got the the club they were looking for, they decided it was too expensive. 10 000 pesos (about £12), 5 000 for girls. So we drove back to the party. Got credit for driving ‘the Chilean way’ on a left turn but now I’m just confused because I did it the way you’re supposed to do it back home… They also seemed impressed when doing a U-turn in a small street without reversing or driving up on the pavement. It might have been the Pisco talking.
I feel like we weren’t out as long on Saturday as Friday, yet when we got back to his house it was also around 05.30 in the morning. Or maybe 05.00…
Day 3 (Sunday):
Woke up around the same time as Saturday. Had slept a bit better now that I had my own pyjamas, and warmer stuff, but it’s always freezing to get out of bed. We had Chilean breakfast again, this time with freshly squeezed oranges, although we decided to try mixing and matching so we added a bit of the grapefruit juice as well, and it was good. We didn’t have much time because we were going to go to his cousin’s house, who had just returned from an around-the-world trip and working in Australia for one and a half year in total.
His family’s house was fancy too. At least on my standards. The grandma, the other Iris, was there. Some family members spoke French to me, because it was easier - and I think they wanted to use it when they could. They served empanada, a Chilean (or Latin American) filled bread sort of thing. The food was served as it became ready on the grill; pieces of meet and sausage. Yet after some time they announced that we should sit; salads were over there and meat and chicken would be served. There were cakes afterwards as well.
I talked to some of the cousins who were curious to know about Iceland, or where I was going travelling afterwards. They were really nice, and would occasionally remind each other to speak in English - but my friend said I needed to practice Chilean…which is true. Especially since one time they told him to speak English, it was about how we met (again) and so he said ‘she knows the story anyway.’ It’d be awkward if I didn’t…
We left around 7. I think we would have stayed forever if not because I had a dissertation to finish and my friend was tutoring some teenager for a maths test to earn a bit of extra money.
When we got to his place after having squeezed in the back of the car with his sister and niece, the tutee called and said it was OK to come at 8. So we used the time to go buy an adaptor (some European plugs work - like my phone…but my computer didn’t and I was down on 4% battery…) and some quick dinner. Then he dropped me at the house and he went to the class.
Doing manual referencing takes its time…and it wasn’t until 02.00 or something that I finished and submitted to get my freedom. I would have read over it again but for once I was too tired, and there’s no point in proof-reading when tired. Plus I had proof-read while fully awake at Helsinki Airport so it should be fine for sure.
Back soon with more. Almost catching up. Enjoy life in the meantime!