River trip in Chile

Recently, our family went on a week-long white water rafting trip in Patagonia, Chile. The trip was in Rio Futaleufu, the Everest of Rivers. Since this was an overnight trip, we stayed in four different camps over the course of the week.  Each one was different, some large with rapids on the sides, some small with ponds.

Our first morning at the first camp

The first camp was one of the hardest to get lost in (although I got lost twice). There was a central eating/fire area, next to the roaring river.

The main area at camp

Facing the river, you go left and find yourself walking through the woods past cliff dwellings one, two, three and four.

The outside of a cliff dwelling

Inside a cliff dwelling

Then, you pass the wood hot tub, then a small sign telling you that you're in the right place.

One of the wooden hot tubs at camp

Then, there are cliff dwellings five, six, seven, and more.  Retracing your steps, you find yourself back at the dining area.  If you face your back to the river, you walk down a small path, leading to bathrooms and showers. That's most of the camp, at least what I can remember.  Oscar and I shared one cabin, open to the river on one side. Even though the river was loud, I eventually got used to the fierce sound.  I liked that camp, mostly because it was small, and easy to get around in.

Me in my cliff dwelling

The second camp that we stayed in was called Cave Camp.  As you probably guessed, there was a big cave at the camp.  The main eating and fire area was next to the river, though.  On one side of the fire, was the hot tub and two cliff dwellings.  On the other side of the fire was an elaborate set of stairs and rocks, leading to the rest of the cliff dwellings. Behind those cliff dwellings was a huge mass of rock, facing the river.   The mass included a stone hot tub and a little bridge.

Me and my mom walking on the bridge at Cave Camp

Walking past the fire again, you can follow a path to a map of the camp.  Turning left at the map, you follow three bridges, hanging over a lagoon, to the cave. We didn't spend much time in the cave, because it was dry out the two nights that we spent at Cave Camp.  After passing the cave, you go up two flights of wood stump made stairs to the bathrooms.  That's the tour of Cave Camp.

Signpost at Cave Camp

Cave Camp was probably the largest camp. Everything was very spread out, but homey and close together at the same time. The size probably explains why the walk to the restrooms was ten minutes long.

The view from one of the bathrooms

The third camp that we stayed at was the treehouse camp.  After a night in the caves, we hiked up a hill for three hours, ending at the smallest camp.  There was a central gazebo with a fire, and wooden planks leading to another fire and hot tub, on the dock of the lake.  Next to the gazebo, a stairwell led to a cluster of tree houses, each as if it was a spoke on a bike wheel.  Behind the gazebo, a few paces up, there was a bathroom.  Tree houses was probably my favorite camp.  Besides learning how to paddle board, I liked how you couldn't hear the roaring of the river at night.

My mom

The last camp that we stayed at was the one that I remember the least.  Our family had cliff dwellings next to the river, under a hill.  Up on the hill were three picnic tables, and a bathroom.  On the other side of the hill was an eating area, a fire, a kitchen, and a hot tub.  Those are basically the places that I went in the last camp.  Somewhere around, though, there were more cliff dwellings, and other bathrooms.

The picnic area at the last camp

The last night at that camp, we had lamb, sizzling by the fire, for a good ending to the trip.

The biggest lamb lover in the family

Oscar and his cordero

 Even though we did other things on the rafting trip, I found that looking at all of the different camps was a highlight of the trip.  I'm sure that when I look back at our eight month trip, I will see this part as one of the high points.

Climbing up an active volcano

Last week in a town called Pucon, in Chile, we trekked up a volcano called Villarrica.  The volcano looked huge from the bottom.  Half way up the mountain, the snow started.  The only thing that I could think was that I would be climbing that.  It was a full day, starting at 7:00 am, and ending at 4:30 pm.  You would think that climbing an active volcano might be one of the most tiring things ever, but surprisingly, not to me.

We started off on an optional chair lift, which didn't have a bar holding us on the seat.  The lift was meant for the skiing season, but ran sometimes in the Chilean summertime.  Everyone in our group took the chair lift, except a German couple and an Australian guy.  The lift took about ten minutes, while the hike around the lift took an hour.  Since the Germans and Australian were an hour behind, you would think that the people who didn't choose the chair lift would be at least an hour behind us, but surprisingly, they were fast hikers and passed us at one point.

After the chair lift ride, the remaining eight of us, plus two guides, started up.  The main guide was ahead, followed by me, then Oscar, after him, a Brazilian woman called Anna, then her husband, my parents, an Australian woman, and a quiet Chilean guy.

We walked up slowly, step by step, using ice picks to steady ourselves on the scree. Mostly, we didn't talk, except for our guide telling Oscar and me "good job" or the Brazilian man pushing his wife to go faster. Every now and then, we would take breaks, which were always a relief to me, to stop and have a snack.  On our second break, our guide said that the glacier was 45 minutes away.  I had looked up to the beginning of the snow, and it had only seemed about ten minutes up.   In those 45 minutes, I tried not to concentrate on when we would get there, but concentrated on not looking up for periods of time, so when I did, the top would look closer.

        Finally, we were at the snow, and took another break. By then, we were half way to the crater.  It looked like way less than half way.  There was a long stretch, then the crater.  As I later found out, there were parts that I couldn't see from where I was.

As we started up the snow, stepping in each other's tracks, I noticed the long trails of dented snow, which were where everyone sleds down the snow.  Then, I looked up at the steep mountain.  That was probably around the time that I decided to go with a guide on the sled down.

At our second to last break, I saw just a small uphill, and then, a little path leading to the crater.  "Great," I had thought, "Just about twenty minutes more."  As it turned out, there was one more hour from there.

We kept on hiking silently, step by step, and finally reached what I thought was the end.  It was actually just the point where there were 45 more minutes.  After about 25 minutes, we reached another gravely part. After twenty minutes of the gravel, we were at the crater.

I'm not really sure what I thought a crater would look like.  Maybe just a hole that looks like a pool of lava is inside?  Maybe dirt gathering by the lava?  Maybe steaming, burning, fumes coming from the volcano?  Whatever I thought, it wasn't any of those.

I can try to explain the crater as best as I can, but even when you take pictures, they don't capture the exact moment.  The only way to see how it was exactly, was to be there.

You are standing on a gravely surface, pulling your jacket tighter over you to keep warm.  There are many people standing around you, joking around, putting on windbreakers.  You walk forward ten steps on the flat surface, and come to a layer of snow.  You walk forward another ten steps, and pull your hood over your head.  You are standing a few feet from a sloping surface, going into a hole, that is steaming.  You smell the sulfur.  You see the sloping platform twenty feet below you.  You know that this hole goes to the center of the earth.  You wonder what would happen if you fell in.  You are standing at the edge of an active volcano.

On the way down, everyone walked to a row of paths, ready for sliding.  I had originally planned to go down with a guide, but was told that I had to try it first. Everyone had put on a diaper sort of thing, and a plastic sled attached to our belts.

After Oscar, I got positioned sitting at the top of the path.  Then, I started down.  Slowing myself by dragging my ice pick in the snow, I found it was pretty fun.  The next ride, I went down with no problem.  The next one though, was harder.  It turned out that I had been thinking of the wrong problem.  Instead of going too fast, I would come to a stop in the middle of the hill. That happened a few more times, resulting in a group of people behind me, trying to go down.  The next time, our guide towed me down.

When the snow stopped, everyone fell into line again, trying not to kick up dirt from the scree.  My mom and I fell behind with our guide.  We slowly made our way down.  I noticed our guide checking his email and phone.  I wondered if that was what it was like to always climb the volcano.

Later, as I sipped my Fanta from a vender, I realized what I had just done.  I had climbed an active volcano, something that people dream of doing.

Chile vs. Ecuador

We just got to Chile a few weeks ago.  After being in Ecuador for nearly three months, it was odd to see a first world country again.  It was delightful, though, to explore a fresh place, and see all the differences between Ecuador and Chile.  

One of the differences between Ecuador and Chile is that in Ecuador, there are many indigenous (native) people.  On the streets of lots of Ecuadorian cities, you see indigenous people everywhere, identifying them by their traditional clothing.  In Chile, however, there are close to no indigenous people in the cities.  On the streets of Chilean cities, you see people who are dressed in modern clothes, and most of the time, you see no indigenous people. There are some indigenous people in other parts of Chile that I haven't seen yet.

Another difference between Ecuador and Chile is the cities.  For instance, based on Cuenca and Quito, when you say the word "ciudad" in Ecuador, you mean a place with a grid of blocks, semi-crowded streets, stores, restaurants, houses lining the blocks, and a main square, where many people are sitting on benches.   When you say "ciudad" in Chile, based on Valparaíso and Santiago, you mean a place with many people living on grids and grids of blocks, fancy restaurants, skyscrapers, huge parks, and apartment buildings. In Chile, the mindset of a city, is closer to the mindset of a city in the US.  This is because Ecuador is more of a developing country than Chile.

Another interesting difference between Chile and Ecuador is the type of language spoken.  Both Chileans and Ecuadorians speak Spanish, but with very different accents and pronunciation.  For example, Ecuadorian Spanish is slow and easy to understand.  Chilean Spanish is fast, and hard for a non-native Spanish speaker to understand. After being in Ecuador for nearly three months, I was mostly able to know what people were saying to me.  Being in Chile, I can pick up a few words, but mostly hear a mishmash of scrambled up Spanish.

Finally, Ecuador and Chile use different currencies.  In Ecuador, the currency is the  US Dollar, while in Chile, the currency is the Chilean Peso.  I found it easier when I was in a country that used the same currency as the US, because you can get a feel for how much things cost.  For instance, if something costs €10,000 (10,000 Chilean Pesos) it would be hard for me to tell if it's over priced, or cheap.