Chile was my third time spending an extended period living abroad, and I’ve noticed a pattern in terms of how things tend to go, at least for me personally:
- Month 1: throw yourself into everything. Feel homesick realising that you’ve not known anyone for longer than a month.
- Month 2: find some routines. Feel more comfortable and begin to develop some normality.
I settled into my seat thinking how many people must be experiencing such vastly different emotions despite them being in the same situation, at least for the present moment. The excitement/disappointment of beginning/ending a trip, meeting/leaving friends and family, drawing a physical line in a lifetime timeline. Airports and planes are strange places. Continue reading
Standing ankle-deep in salted water, with rays of sun washing over my upturned face, I was reminded inescapably of the idea of the end of the earth: a mythic, utopian place Continue reading
Unlike Rio de la Plata, named in the false hope of silver which would later be found in Potosi, Sucre has no relation with sugar in spite of the link forged by my mediocre French. The city was named for a General who played a part in the independence of the country, Continue reading
South America has, in my mind, always been a world separated by more than just the Atlantic Ocean. Stories from friends who have ventured to the ancient Incan ruins or the vast ecosystem that makes up the Amazon, have always seemed like tales and fantasies, Continue reading