Swami in the Sauna

Don't think twice, it's all right. I'm still sick, but I am slightly better... well... ok maybe not...

So I am at this Hotel San Martin, a cute little panopticon on the shores of Viña Del Mar. I say this because the walls are paper thin, so you can here adjoining rooms down the hallway, the concierge seems to monitor everyone's coming and goings and the front desk appear to intuitively know everyone's name. It feels a little like the Village in The Prisoner series. When I went to investigate the gym and the sauna, the conceriege appeared in a puff of smoke.

"May I help you?" (This is retail for "What are you doing here?", some phrases are apparently universal).
"Uh, sure, I'd like to use the sauna."
"You have to make a reservation."
"For the Sauna?"
"Yes, so that I may turn it on for you."
"Umm, OK, how about an hour from now."
"Very well."

She disappeared in another puff of smoke. After fruitlessly searching for my bathing suit for an hour, I went downstairs with my towel to the sauna. The Conceriege magically appeared again.

"Here is a towel for you to use."
"I brought my own."
"From your room?", she said, eyebrow cocked in disbelief.
"Yes"
"Well I suppose you may use that then. The sauna is ready for you and there is a shower in there."
"Thanks."

She disconcertingly disappeared again. Now if this were a single-sex sauna I would be fine with just laying their in the buff. But since women could walk in a be blinded by my whale like carcass floundering in the heat, I decided to leave on my boxers.

It was like only 90 degrees fahrenheit when I got in there. Ridiculously cold. So I splashed some water on the rocks. Ten minutes later barely over 100. I've been in saunas from Tokyo to Frankfurt to Pigeon Forge Tennesee, I have never been so damn cold in one. Annoyed I poured intense amounts of water on the rocks and started meditating.

I'm not sure when it reached 150°... when on the edge of heatstroke and meditating you tend to lose track of time. As sweat finally drenched out of me, the desert returned to my mind. Even in the damn sauna you can hear the constant pulsing rhythm of the dryer's in the washroom behind the adjoining wall. It gave me a beat so I sang a song with my hoarse throat.

Wisdom said she'd meet me,
out in the desert.
Said she'd find my soul there.
I drove out in my car.

I found myself lost there
out in the desert
Wisdom said she'd meet me
She'll only meet my bones.

Between the soft hills there
out in the desert,
She said that I'd be cleansed.
But it only bleached my bones.

My voice finally cracked. So I stopped. A few minutes later that pesky survival instinct kicked in.

"Hey" it said.
"What."
"It's time to go."
"I'm seeking inner wisdom. I'm healing this is my sweat lodge man."
"I think you've had enough wisdom for one day."
"Inner voices are a sign of unsettled minds."
"Intuition is your ego protecting your body from your mind."

And this is why I don't meditate too much... loud inner voices.

Despite the loud inner voices it summoned, the sauna cleared my sinuses out quite nicely. As I stumbled out and opened my locker, I made a horrible discovery. My shoes smell awful. At first I thought it was the towel, then my socks, but the culprit is definitely my shoes, which I dutifully place in the locker along with the rest of my clothes.

Wearing my Jeans, Shirt, Shoes and Socks I went upstairs with the rest of the stuff rolled up in the room towel since all of it was dirty, I took the sauna towel up to dry off with later. Once I put socks and boxers on, I sprayed some body spray into my shoes. After watching the commercials for these products, I expect flocks of rabid, voluptuous, young women to supplicate at my feet anytime now. Damn marketing.

It's been a year

My wanderlust is screaming to travel again... maybe someday.

Que Te Pareces

Argentina v. Germany

So... I'm desperately outlining a paper (the first of four I need done by Sunday). I mean desperately sitting in here reading economic treatises, writing thoughtful outline entries, procrastinating whereever possible. When, all of a sudden there is this tremendous outburst, screaming yelling, taxicabs honking in the streets, gunfire! I'm taken back to 1997, Bolivia v. Chile, after the game I remember hearing the same reaction all through Las Condes the night Chile won.

Well the game is going on right now, Argentina scored a goal a few minutes ago which started me on this blog entry. I turned on the TV, mainly to procrastinate, but also so I won't be caught off guard when Argentina scores and everyone around me yells again. Maybe I should avoid going out for lunch until I find out if Argentina wins, I can't imagine anyone here getting my order right until then.

More pictures tonight, if I complete this damn paper.

Buenos Aires - Second Day (Housekeeping)

I've caught up on housekeeping and even finally got around to posting the first half of Antofagasta. Today was the last day of classes which means that I start my exam period now. Everyone is stressing exams, me, I am merely procrastinating.

We walked back from class today but my camera was full and since the LCD is broken I couldn't see the menu to erase the already downloaded pictures. After a long lunch with students, I came back to the hotel slept for a bit then picked up laundry and groceries.

I have cleared off the camera, and found something to quell my snoring we will see how well it works. 3 am, time for bed.

Buenos Aires - First Day

My first full day in Buenos Aires started with another roommate (Steve) missing from the bedroom when I awaken. Apparently my snoring is a real problem, which would explain the fact that I never feel rested and keep falling asleep even in exciting lectures. As I got ready, I noticed a few ants in the bathroom.

The law school we attend in Buenos Aires is huge. You know Super Mario Brothers? You know that world where everything is giant for no reason? It is that huge. Here see...



I couldn't even get it all in one shot, and it is right next to this huge sculpture. I think it is an alien satellite transponder, apparently it closes at night.



After scaling several flights of steps to reach the top of the enormous building we finally reached a classroom with desks from a junior high school. We all crowded into the classroom. The morning sun shines into this tight little lecture hall through windows strategically placed above the blackboard by sadistic peronista architects. As we bathed in warm light and listened to the hypnotic sing-songy latin voice rise and fall...*snores*

At least I only dropped my papers once, but I came close several times. Less embarrassing than falling out of my chair at the US Embassy in Santiago, but not by much.

Anyway, class ended and then we had a long lunch at Modena Design, an italian place across the street from the law school with lots of Ferraris and such. Some people found better things to do than eat...



We then went to the Casa Rosada. The Casa Rosada is where the president works (not where he lives). We were so late for our tour that it was truncated to ten minutes and hence we only got to see the Patio de Las Palmas, the Bust Gallery and the White Room (where they hold swearing in ceremonies and receive dignitaries.) The security well imagine a rabid Hector Elizondo with a bad toupee and slightly shorter, following us, especially me the straggler (fat people walk slow) around the building like we were going to take something. He violently and rudely wagged his finger and glared at us. He insisted on no pictures except in the Patio (I really wish I got a picture of him, but I suspect that would have got me arrested). So here are my pictures. It's ashame, I really liked the White Room and would love a picture of the bust of Peron.


Casa Rosada with Rioters


Casa Rosada without Rioters


Spy Cameras, I would have put them in the statutes.



I would put them in the birdnests too.


Nice Patio.


Hi!.
My favorite part of the day had to be the Director of the program acting as our tour guide to the Boca neighborhood and Calle Caminito.

Of course, I ran out of space on my camera. But I found a real neat flickr folder with pictures of Boca in summer. Imagine it like that without the Tango dancers and colder. I will see if anyone else who came there with me took pictures they will lend for the cause.

After that, I did housekeeping, money changing, laundry, dinner, fighting off beggars and barkers, a trip to the pharmacy and this blog, now I'm tired and need bed. But wait, I have to go slay a thousand ants or so.

Lan Chile Redux

If I have one piece of advice for you it is to order your plane tickets well in advance. A month ago I had the chance to purchase tickets from Santiago to Buenos Aires on Air Canada for $170 round trip. But I was in too much of a hurry to buy them right then, I kept promising myself I would get around to buying them but alas no. I didn't. Desperately I searched the internet last week for cheap fares and the cheapest was Lan Chile.

You'll recall my mentioning Lan Chile on my trip to Antofagasta. My cousin flew them, and said the service was absolutely barbaric. She complained about the food, the flight attendants, the delays. I could believe the delays, but now I got to experience the rest for myself first hand.

My experience was different. There was no delay despite the fact we had a very full flight. Mostly full of seventh graders from Saint Martin Colegio in Buenos Aires. I had Geronimo and Herman sitting next to me. I had the window, as the cordillera past by beneath, the plane occasionally broke into song, imitations of Homer Simpson, or other seventh grade shennaigans. It made me miss my kids.

While the flight attendants were slightly friendlier, the cold sandwich dinner (salami, so if you are Muslim better order ahead) and dulce de leche, really didn't cut it. The insane duty free cart was more of an annoyance than anything else, but it might explain why the flight attendant were nicer (annoyed passengers do not buy duty free on planes).

The bumpy landing in Buenos Aires reminded me of a strange habit that I've only seen Argentinean do. They applaud wildly when the planes lands, now is that just Argentine, or do other countries do that? I know that in Chile when I applaud on landing I get very strange looks.