I couldn't pinpoint exactly what the smell was, nor did I know from whence it came. It hadn't been there when I hopped on bus 406 at the edge of San Pablo, the "ghetto" of Santiago Chile. In my defense, I had originally boarded the right bus, 427. The only problem was that it was going in the opposite direction and ended up at the terminal where buses go to sleep for the night. I was lost in thought and music, and completely lost sense of direction. Not unusual for me, but on this particular… Continue

I'm usually not a prissy girl. I would rather camp at the Volcan Villarrica than stay in the hostels. When it has been necessary I can handle it (I did great in Jamaica!). But it was jumping on tiny legs up the length of the blue plastic toothbrush. It wasn't even my toothbrush, but I felt nervous all the same. Was my toothbrush in danger? Had it already been hopped on? What if this tiny little spider, no bigger than my pinky toenail (which is tiny, as my feet reveal my familial ties to those… Continue

The bus comes groaning to a stop and I swiftly board. I brace myself , but not before the driver floors it. I feel like a drunken fool trying to run atop a moving train that bounces. Keeping equilibrium is nearly impossible without securing yourself to a pole, but some have mastered the art. People outnumber seats by at least three to one. Those who stand, as well as the privileged seat holders, wear faces gloomier than the miserable gray sky. They breathe dissatisfaction and stink of boredom.… Continue

I read my book as I wait in line. I read of travels and spontaneous adventures in distant lands. I read and I wait. It takes three chapters to reach the ticket counter, but no time at all to realize that all the buses to Olmue are already full.

I don’t quit immediately, but after two more lines and five more chapters, I try to convince myself that staying in the capital to celebrate Chile’s day of independence wouldn’t be all that bad. I had been looking forward to getting out of the smog,… Continue

In one hand I carried my ticket securing my destination and purpose, and in the other, a bottle of wine, securing my sanity. Both of these, along with my companion Misty were the only things keeping me going at that point.

The fact was we were lost, on empty stomachs, and in a foreign country where we hardly spoke the language. How exactly did we end up here? Misty and I are students on a study abroad program where we attend the University Andres Bello in Santiago, Chile. We had only been… Continue