Cachai´po, juevon?

Day 2 in Ancud.

When we got here at about 9 last night we could not find the hostel we had reservations for, but that was because God wanted us to stay somewhere different. So we wandered until we came to a large, bright blue building and the owner welcomed us in and made us coffee. Yes, this is where we are supposed to be. We had coffee with real milk, I took a gloriously hot shower, then we went to bed. This morning we got up, ate Kuchen for breakfast (I could really get used to this whole eating Kuchen at least once a day thing. Its the most delicious food ever made) and loaded into a bus with another couple from the hostel to go to the Pinguinera Pinihuil -- a penguin colony nearby. After picking up a few more people and our guide, we began the bumpy drive along the coast, stopping preiodically for our guide, a second year law school student named Franco, to show us some kind of flower, berry, or rock formation that, according to legend, is home to burried treasure guarded by the Traucos. The penguin tour itself was not especially thrilling -- we loaded into a boat and tossed about on the waves for about 30 minutes, getting some excellent views of penguins hanging out on some big rocks. This is the only place in the world where these two kinds of penguins can ever be seen together. Come March, one breed migrates north and the other south, but every year they come together here and lay their eggs on the misty shores of Chiloe. It began to rain and the waves were getting larger, so we had to go back to the shore, but we used our extra time to grab some Empanadas de queso y loco at a restaurant right by the shore.
For those of you who speak spanish, you might be wondering, as were we, what an Empanada de loco might be. As it turns out, it is not crazy-flavored empanadas, but rather empanadas with mollsuks. At any rate, they were delicious, and all 9 of us on the tour sat together and told stories and jokes -- many of which revolved around mine and Molly´s inability to speak or understand Spanish. But everyone here reassures that our Spanish is very good, and have even gone so far as to say that our accents are good sound almost authentic.

On the ride back Franco taught us all kinds of new Chilote words -- it seems that this island not only has its own magic, but its own language. Later tonight we are going to go get drinks with our new friend Franco and hopefully learn more.

Even though we have not yet done much here and, to tell the truth we don´t really have a clue as to what we´re going to do, I can tell there is a sense of mystery and fantasy here on this giant island called Chiloe. The ominous mist that never fully leaves gives everything a sense of secrecy, as if trying to hide the whispers between all the plants, animals, and waters. Tiny flowers that look like fairies decorate the countryside everywhere, dancing between blackberry brambles and trees that bear a fruit similar to a blueberry. I feel like if I could hold my breath and be still enough, I would actually see a fairy tale unfolding before my very eyes. I can hardly wait to write more about the surprises that God is going to show us on this magic island.

Ciao.


p.s. - the title of this entry is the essence of chileanismos. It roughly translates to "do you get it, dude?" but the way it is said is that makes it a true chileanismo :D