Men in Tights!

Tight tights!

It all started with a pair of earrings.

After several failed attempts in Futrono to visit an island with indigenous communities, we decided to leave earlier than we had originally planned, then realized that we would much rather spend the night on a bus back to Vina than in a hostel in Valdivia, as we had originally planned. "It would be one thing if we had friends here who we could go out with and see the town, but with just the two of us it will just be the same ole' same ole'" I said. **foreshadowing**

So, once in Valdivia, we bought our pasajes to Vina and headed out to walk along the river as we awaited the hour of our departure. We got to see wild sea lions who like to hang out near the fish markets -- one of them was dozing on the warm sand and from time to time growling to scare off a too-corageous dog who thought he was ten times bigger than he actually was. (did you know how big sea lions are? they're huge!!!) Bored with the sea lions and aware of the steady scalding of our blinding white skin, we mozied towards the center plaza to see what there was to see.

Molly was attracted by a pair of feather earrings, the likes of which she had been admiring for practically the entire trip thus far. The street vendor was very friendly and we chatted for a minute or two about the most beautiful parts of Chile. Molly bought the earrings (for the low price of 2,000 pesos = $3.50usd!) and, since we were already in the plaza and couldn't think of anything else to do, we headed towards a bench to sit down.

"Maybe we have friends in Valdivia," I said, "who we just haven't met yet. Maybe we'll sit down for a while and something will come our way." **foreshadowing** Little did I know that both of these statements would soon come true.

After we had been sitting there zoning out for a while, completely without plan, a troup of men in Renaissance attire carrying instruments rounded the corner and approached our perch. "Woah, look at them." we said. "I hope they'll come play a song for us," I said. "I bet they will. We'll give them money if they play us a song." They did come our way, but did not play a song. They came to take a seat and rest from the hot summer sun (hah! it was actually hot on a summer day in chile!) We scooted down a bit to make room for all four of them with all of their things and I struck up casual conversation with the on sitting next to me, whose name is Esteban (aka El Hombre Equis). Turns out our birthdays are one day apart, and we will both be turning 20. I don't wait long before asking why they are dressed as they are: black tights, short black poofy shorts, and velvety black jackets with poofy sleeves, decorated with regal looking sashes across their front. He explains to me that they are a group of students who are part of a larger organization that began back in the day when these clothes were actually in style (about 800 years ago). It originated as a group of students who had scholarships to pay for school but who could not afford to pay for lodging and food and so forth because as students, we all know, they were very poor. So they get together, dress up in their little black tights, and travel all over the area performing at events as well as on street corners and in restaurants to make money to pay for their travels and for their living expenses as students.

Anyhow, we chatted for a bit and they invited us to go grab a cerveza with them and, seeing as how we still had 2 hours to kill until our bus left, we accepted their invitation and started walking down the street escorted by a troup of men in tights.

Over a pitcher of cerveza we talked about modismos from Chile, about politics, about music, and so forth. We even taught them how to swing dance, much to the amusement of passers by. (Molly and I seem to have made a habit of doing dance demonstrations in public places with people who are almost strangers) As the hour for our departure was creeping nearer and nearer, I was trying to push it farther and farther from my mind. What a shame to have to leave our new friends after just a few hours. "Hey, why don't you guys stay another day in Valdivia and you can come around town with us" they offered in Spanish. Molly and I exchanged unsure glances. We already had our tickets home, we didn't have a place to stay, we didn't know these people, and we didn't really understand what it was they were doing tomorrow that we were going to follow them around for. But really, how many chances does a person get in a lifetime to spend the day with a band of traveling musicians wearing poofy short shorts and black tights? I couldn't say no to such an offer, so before we knew it the two younger guys were dashing off towards the bus station to try to sell our tickets back. When they couldn't sell them back and it was 15 minutes until the bus was supposed to leave we were already too invested in this rennaissance adventure to turn back, so we ate the tickets (not literally, of course) and began what would become one of the most unforgetable memories of my life.

Our stomachs were growling by this time, as it had been over 8 hours since we ate our meagre little sandwiches of meat and cheese, so they told us we would head to the store to get food to cook for dinner. However, before we could buy food, they had to earn the money to pay for the food, so we stopped in several bars and restaurants with them where they would perform a few songs, explain their attire and their pupose, El Guapo (Julio) would do a little jig with his little tambourine, and then he would pass it around and collect money.

I suppose I will go ahead and introduce the band of troubadours:

*Esteban/El Hombre Equis -- we have almost the same birthday. He is from La Serena and is a musical genius despite the fact that he developed some kind of disease in his hands so he can no longer play the contra bass as his concentration in the university, so he plays guitar and piano instead. His thumbs bend backwards way further than normal, which he told us is his super power like in X-Men. Hence, el Hombre Equis.

*Adrian/Hombre Sin Nombre -- We couldn't remember his name for the entire time we were hanging out with them (hence the nickname) until we got him to write it down before we said out goodbyes. He is the leader of the group and enjoys being in charge. He cooked us pasta with one sauce made from apples and tomatoe sauce, and the other using tuna and sour cream. and somehow they were both delicious (maybe because we were starving)

*Juan/JuanNoPants -- I think that out of all of them, Juan enjoyed the short shorts the most. He looked like he might be a creeper, but it turns out he's a really nice guy. He is studying to be an elementary school teacher, and he likes to dance, even when he's not good at it. He's got a very soft inside under his kind of rough looking outside.

*Julio/El Guapo -- El Guapo is the handsome one who they send into the restaurants to charm the owners with his dashing good looks to let them come in and play. For this reason he's always trotting off ahead and disappearing, soon to reappear with a thumbs up or thumbs down, his broad shoulders loaded down with an instrument case and sometimes a backpack too. While the others play stringed instrumets, he plays the tambourine. But not only does he play it, he does a crazy little jig with it that involves him jumping around, hitting it with his head, shoulders, knees and toes (no joke) with it. They also take advantage of his dashing good looks to make him ask for the money. Who could say no to that face? Basically, his job is to be guapo, and he does it very well. He also sings really well and plays stringed instruments very well.

Anyhow, we did this for several hours, despite the fact that they kept telling us that our next stop was the grocery store. Finally we got our bags from the bus station, bought some groceries, and after getting lost and walking in a huge circle, we made it to the hospedaje where they were staying, dumped our stuff, and waited for HombreSinNombre to cook us his magical concauction. It was delicious. Ah, the life of a musician. After dinner we sat around talking about music, getting them to play us our favorite songs, introducing them to Sufjan on the ipod, sipping on cheap wine with pepsi, and laughing at the ridiculocity of the day.

We finally parted company, and molly and I fell asleep in our shared double bed to the sounds of guitars in the other room. I really like that they play those guitars all day to make money, then to relax and have fun in the evenings they play those same guitars. Awesome.

In the morning (i mean, at noon when we woke up) I made us a delicious American breakfast of eggs and pancakes, they got their tights on (which, by the way, are called "panties" in spanish), and we headed out. They played in a few places around the main plaza, then we hopped on a bus to a little town called Niebla. Niebla means fog in spanish, and the entire town was, in fact, in a cold fog the entire time we were there. Thanks, Chile. Gotta love it. Anyhow, there was some kind of culture festival there (they always seem to be having cultural festivals everywhere here) with foods, traditional dances, music, and so forth. We enjoyed the festivities for a while, stopped by the beach where Molly and I almost froze because we were dressed in tank tops and shorts for the hot weather we had just left in Valdivia. The men in tights are true gentlemen, though, and El Guapo and JuanNoPants gave us their poofy-sleeved velvety jackets to keep warm as we walked up the highway to find a restaurant to play in. Chilean men are generally very chivalrous, and I still don't think Molly and I have really gotten used to them always offering to help us down from the bus or to serve us first at dinner or to always offer to carry our heavy backpacks despite the fact that they had their various bags and musical instruments to carry. We were quite a sight, and many people in cars passing by pointed, stared, laughed, and some even took pictures.

We went around to a few restaurants, one of which contained a woman who was incredibly drunk (even though it was 5 in the afternoon) who proceeded to dance all up on El Guapo. He just can't help that he's so stinking guapo.

...Another side note here, we taught the men in tights about the word "awkward", which doesn't really exist in Spanish. We showed them awkward turtle (as well as the variations: awkward turtle mitosis, awkward giraffe...) the day before, so as they were playing and the crazy drunk lady was singing and dancing with El Guapo in the middle of the restaurant they each at different times shot us side glances and quick awkward turtle hand gestures. It was awesome. ...

We finally left from the fog town and came back to Valdivia, where we got our bags from the hostel, had another dance lesson in the middle of the plaza (by then we had really gotten used to people staring at us all the time), met up with another man in tights who came to join them, then got some sandwich makin's at the store. We all sat together in the grass eating our sandwiches, reveling in the absurdity of the image of two american girls sitting on the ground among a troup of musicians wearing tights (panties) and short, poofy shorts. Molly and I bought an entire kuchen from the grocery store (it was like $4usd) and a package of plastic forks, so we all sat around eating at the kuchen with our hands and the occasional help of the forks. It was so awesome. Then we got our own private concert -- complete with the entire row of 5 men in tights doing the booty train while playing -- and Molly and I each had our turn to dance with El Guapo as the sun was retreating behind the horizon. Best moment of the trip might have been there on the lawn in Valdivia with our kuchen, our men in tights, and their music. Thanks God. He really does hear everything and He had a lot of fun answering those prayers that we didn't even know we said.

So, we said our goodbyes, got in a taxi, and rushed at the last moment to catch our bus back home.

There it was, the month of traveling that we had not only been planning for for half of a year, but which I had been anticipating and dreaming about since my sophomore year in high school. It is so strange for something that was preceeded by such anticipation to be coming to an end, to realize that what was once a scrambled collection of hopes and dreams is now just a memory. We were ready for the end of this chapter, though, and we were so relieved to be back in our host homes where unpacking our suitcases that have been stowed away all month was like Christmas morning after wearing the same 2 pairs of pants and 4 shirts for the past month (and only doing laundry 3 times!) It feels so good to be here, and already I feel like this is home. I am overwhelmed by school things, but it will be ok. In many ways I think that the normalcy of being a student here is going to be much harder than the constant flux of our time traveling. But God is good, and He is faithful ALL the time.

More will come soon about life in Vina, but this is already too long, and it will take a very brave soul to make it all the way to the end.

Besitos.

catita