Chapter 6: The Rainy Season
edited: Sunday, March 24, 2002
By R Roche
Posted: Sunday, March 24, 2002
Become a Fan
The latest peice to my Travel Journal. It's starting to become a journal of thoughts and opinions. Oh, well, whatever rows your boat, Roxy. Anyway, if anyone reads all my travel journal-or even a peice- please coment.
P.S. These are just notes. Somday i hope to write one story-or perhaps multiple stories, of my travels in Chile. See you.
Friday, March 1, 2002
Mom and dad went to Coyhaique today. I stayed home with Fidley. I couldnít go back to sleep after they left so I got up and read How to Write Your Own Life Story. Itís a book about writing autobiographies and life stories. Iíve been thinking about starting to write like a little collection of stories or an autobiography about my life and about Spot, Fidley, and my life.
Today while mum and dad were gone, I got so much stuff done. First I read two books; the first one was How to Write Your Own Life Story, and Living Legacies. Someday Iím going to be a famous, so you better get my autograph it might be worth something someday. I have so many stories to write about but not enough time where I feel like writing. I guess professional writers have to write no matter if they feel like writing or not. Im-a-na have to work on that.
So the other things I did today were two loads of laundry, vacuumed the living room the kitchen, bathroom and Fidley. I also cleaned the shop and dusted the furniture and clean the bathroom sink. I fed Fidley breakfast and played with him a little bit and danced around, and then I got on the computer and fiddled around. Itís really a privilege to live in Patagonia and have a Toshiba laptop computer, and mega fast Internet connection.
The other thing I did was to give Fidley a bath with dish soap and almond conditioner to try and get rid of his fleas. The water was cold though so he was shivering and trying to get away. I had thought about that though, and I put his leash on so he couldnít run off and roll in the dirt. I combed him too and when I was done he came out smelling like a wet powder puff.
Another amazing feat I did today was to kept the woodstove going ALL DAY.
Also the Empanada Lady came today and I let Fidley out and he went crazy like he usually does because he knows that most of the empanadas or doughnuts go to him. Anyway she is deathly afraid of Fidley and she totally freezes and her eyes get big. Fidley is like licking away and making weird noises. I almost feel as sorry for Fid as I do the Empanada Lady.
The three white dogs were out on the road this morning. They were all laying around on the road sleeping and every once in a while moving to let a car pass. Not very many cars pass on the road though. I was sitting there just watching them with Fidley staring out from his dog window when all of a sudden the first one gets up walks stretching over to the mother dog and the second dog gets up too and walks over to the mother dog and they all start to howl and bark and run around. Meanwhile Fidley is intently by the dog window watching all the commotion and starting to howl and bark to. Crazy dogs surround me; I donít know how long I will last with out stating to howl and bark too. Iíve resorted to thinking talking to Fidley is a complex and in depth conversation. How tragic can one person get?
So the rest of the day was spent talking to Fidley, doing schoolwork and nervously cleaning and straightening things. I think when ever Iím alone with Fidley his nervousness in contagious and it gets to me and I start to clean and get stuff done. Itís a bit of psychology that I cannot explain.
So the rest of Fidley and my family got home around 11 pm or so, bringing lots of food and plywood. Also Fidleyís own flea collar. I think I need one too; Iím starting to think I have fleas. But that could be yet another psychology thing that I cannot explain.
Today was the perfect day for me to concentrate and get some quality time in with my little dog.
Saturday, March 2, 2002
ďItís raining its pouring, the old man is snoring. He woke up bonked his head and couldnít get up in the morning.Ē
Today it was raining to day with fearsome intensity. However, in ratio with the usual degree of rainfall, itís quite minimal.
I read today and looked out the window.
Sunday, March 3, 2002
Today we saw some gypsies put up a tent down in the empty lot past the copec. We also saw a four-wheeler road rally go by. It was raining again as usual. I saw a rainbow.
I wonder what the gypsies are all about?
Today I read and talked to Fid.
Monday, March 4, 2002
I met a real live GYPSY today.
She was short and small. She had a wide face with small slanty eyes that looked Indian or oriental. The gypsyís nose was very European the way it was narrow at the top and flared at the bottom, but was not turned up on the end. There is a picture of a girl on the national geographic web site who has a nose similar to the gypsyís. But the girlís nose in the picture is to flat. The gypsy I bet had a bit of a pointy nose. Her face had a faint look of primitiveness, with prominent eye hollows, and eyebrows close to her eyes.
Her skirts were brightly colored with yellow designs on one and underneath was a zebra print cloth. When she sat down in the grass it trailed out behind her like a train. The gypsy was wearing a baggy pink and various colors v-neck sweater. She had a ring on a chain around her neck and another ring on her finger.
Her hair was dirty and had little bits of things in it like leaves and such. It looked like it had been streaked lately with orange dye, but I could be wrong, because I didnít see a dye lines. It was pulled in to a bun behind her head with a white hair tie. She smelled like campfire smoke and sweat.
Her skin seemed a little fair to be a gypsy, so she probably had some white European blood, but it was still darker than my skin.
She read part of momís fortune saying that she was going to live a long time. Then she went on to say something about seeing mom in the graveyard of La Junta. I think she just said that so mom would give her more money.
We all talked for about an hour in Spanish. I think Iím actually leaning Spanish because I understood her pretty much.
The rest of the day was spent on school and reading. Dad is starting to putt in the cabinets in the living room.
The gypsies are supposed to start for Coyhaique tomorrow.
The gypsy was very interesting. I felt sorry for her and I was a little afraid of her at the same time.
Tuesday, March 5, 2002
The LA Junta radio is playing gringo music tonight. ďSitting on the Dock of the BayĒ, and ďI Believe in MiraclesĒ were on the last two times. Now ďDesperadoĒ.
Fidley smells like pesticides, because of his flea collar.
Mom applied for a job in Juneau, because we have been having conflicts about mom and I coming back to Chile next year. Itís being said, from what I can gather, that Juneau is a maybe for a place for me and mum to go next year for work and school. Iím actually looking forward to that. I think it will be a nice change and I think that I would do quite well in a regular school after going to Ponderosa and doing home school again for a year. I have two major goals if I go to a regular school next year.
1. Do the best I can go on school and making friends. Good grades.
2. Get involved is sports and debate team.
I donít think these things will be hard to accomplish. Iím really looking forward to finally going to a regular school, and I WILL do every thing in my power to take advantage of all the opportunities that are available to me. So wish me luck.
Wednesday, March 6, 2002
School, and work on computer today. It was raining out side considerably all day. I practiced guitar today. Also a lady from the store came over and asked about the sign for Benjamin, and 5 min later someone came by to pick it up.
Thursday, March 7, 2002
Fidley is fat and has to go on a diet. Whenever the Empanada Lady comes with doughnuts or empanadas, he goes absolutely bonkers. He screams and whines and runs around like a crazy person or dog I guess. Then he sits by the table for hours waiting to get one. He probably weighs about 90 or 100 pounds now hes so fat. I can even pick him up by the skin on his back anymore, because itís stretched so tight.
We did school most the day. It was raining and blowing to day too. The T.V. is so stupid, there is like dancing girls on there all time with 6-inch platform shoes and bikinis & bell-bottoms.
Thursday, March 8, 2002
Today I did school and then I got on the computer and worked on my journal. Granddad Chapman called. Dad went to Patagonia Base Camp this morning to sort out a problem with a factura. What does this inkblot make you think of? It makes me think of a cow skull. Itís supposed to be some kind of personality test.
I downloaded these guidelines for journal entries to day. I should probably try to follow them the best I can or at least think about them when I write because sometimes I donít know what to write about.
1. Tell about three things you did today.
2. Tell about your favorite part of today.
3. Tell about your least favorite part of today.
4. Tell something funny/interesting that happened today
5. Tell about something you did today that you have never done before.
Because it has been raining so much the little drainage creek that runs by our house is really high. Itís almost 2 or three ft deep, when it is usually 2 or 3 inches in dry weather. Also on the hill behind our bodega there is a nice waterfall. I think that where the water is coming from.
There was a very brief thunderstorm with on peel of thunder and I lightning. I thought Fidley would be scared if there was ever a thunderstorm but he didnít get scared, I think because he was to intent on the empanadas that the Empanada Lady brought. Like I said before he goes totally insane when there are empanadas in the house. No matter how many times I whack him on the head or tell him to be quite, he still makes his nasal little whimpers and wonít sit still. I wrote an introduction to a travel writing website today:
All my life people have said I was different. First off, I was born and raised in the wild lands of Alaska. My parents owned a fishing lodge that took us to Chile, South America in the southern hemisphere summer, and then back to Alaska for the Northern hemisphere summer. So living the continual summer gave me lots of time to explore wildlife while wearing shorts and a tee shirt. Furthermore I had more time to develop into the travel writer I am to day by living the travel instead to traveling the travel.
It isnít exactly my best bit of introduction, but I thought it interesting to add in here for future thought. As well. That is a very popular phrase among the adult world. I guess ill have to pick that up, along with a superior vocabulary.
Saturday, March 9, 2002
Today it rained. At about 1:00 or 2:00 we all went for a ride in the truck- West. The Palena was impressively high today; it was about 4 or 5 ft higher than Iíve ever seen. The bamboo on the side of the river was bent over and some was underwater trailing in the current like great green feathers. Almost all the gravel beaches were covered up.
We ended up driving all the way to the end of the road where the construction camps were. The road is still being built from La Junta to the ocean- Puerto Raul Balmaceda. Fidley had to sit in the back of the truck but on our way back I let him climb through the little back window. Good God, he almost got stuck; he was so fat. He got his front half of his body in but he kinda got his bottom stuck so he was hanging from his belly half in half out, like Winnie-the-pooh. He finally managed to get through, but I had to pull on his head.
I saw a whole of cows. In fact I saw an albino baby cow with little fuzzy pink ears. J
There is a house about 10km from LA Junta and I think a witch lives there. L Every time we drive past the house there are either flocks and flocks of geese, millions of goat or lots of cows. I think she changes her animals into different animals just for the fun of it.
Sunday, March 10, 2002
Today was very interesting. Dad and I went in the jet boat on the Palena up to the hot springs at Puerto Bonito. The weather was terrible- freezing cold and windy. Going down the river the wind was in our faces and the rain blew up under my hood cutting my face and burning my eyes if I opened them, so I kept them shut.
There was a small cove up the river from Puerto Bonito. It was so beautiful, with giant gnarly trees over the water and ferns and bamboo, up in the cove there was an absolutely breath taking, rushing little creek. Moss dripped from the trees and the water was clear and deep.
At Puerto Bonito, we werenít sure that it was really the place where the hot springs were because there was no visible path, but we saw a old wooden boat full of water so we decided someone must have paddled down the river and them decided to stay and them never left.
Landing the boat two paths were visible among the brush and brambles. The path going to the right seemed the most traveled but when we got to the end there was a house and a garden with Nalca bushes in it about 8 ft tall more. You would never think a plant could be intimidating, but those were.
So dad and I turned around and walked back to where the other path branched off. Following that trail for about 15 min we came to a sort of crude bridge of little branches tied together with wire, over a small ravine. A little farther on the trail we came to a bridge over a sizable creek. The bridge was made of wood planks tied together with wire and attached to trees on both side s with wire cable and rope. It had guardrail and was actually a lot more functional than it looked. After crossing the bridge it wasnít much farther tot the springs.
Around the springs there was a small dressing room that looked like it had Hanta Virus or something, icky. There were three pools to the springs: the first was very hot like hot tube about 110 * F or so. The second pool down was not as hot it was about 95* F or so. The third was just a regular lake with cool water. All around the springs it was quite, yet full of life, from birds that sounded like monkeys to the sound of a rainforest- the sound of plants growing and soaking up water. On the way to the springs before the smell of sulfur hit full blast there was a distinct smell. It smelled sweet, like flowers, yet it had a deep musky/earthy smell to it almost like mint but not quite. It reminded me of happiness or the way the earth smells just after a long rain, when the sun comes out and warms the plants, they give off a very sensuous and flourishing smell. The smell of utter bliss and contentment. But as soon as the sulfur smell hit it blocked any good smell from my nostrils.
After I stuck my feet in and explored a bit, dad and I ate lunch at a picnic spot that looked like it hadnít been used in about 20 years, the table was dripping with moss an was rotting in the middle. While we were eating a little bird came to inspect us closer and see what and who we were and why we were here. I threw a piece of sandwich to him but got my aim a little of and ended up hitting him in the head. He flew of in a fluster but came right back fluffing his feathers. I left him many bits of sandwich, a piece of apple and some chocolate cookies. Gringo food; I wonder if he will eat them.
On the way back to the boat I saw some of the biggest ferns Iíve ever seen, one taller than me, and the stock was as big around as my thumb or bigger. Also there was some huge trees- some about 5, 6 or 7 ft in diameter. Iím in awe of nature.
Back on the Palena the weather was a tad better, still windy and cold, but as we got closer to the Rosselot the weather got better, and the sun came out and there was a rainbow. Dad continued the boat down or should I saw up the Rosselot to Claro Solar to see how high the water was. It was very high- about 5 ft higher than usual.
That evening we arrived at the bodega at about 5:30 pm. Another adventure for the books.
Monday, March 11, 2002
Today was spent on school arguing with mother, as usual. The grass cutter came and cut the grass today, and mum and dad worked on the house painting and putting windows in. Seems like an awful lot of work for Benjaminís Bodega, since we are not getting paid.
Tonight we had an Asado with pork ribs and, filete. I played guitar out by the fire and we sat around and made up songs about llamas and Fidley until the meat was done.
Who Wants To Be a Millionaire-in Spanish- is on T.V. right now. I find T. V. here in Chile very undignified to watch here in this backwards third world country. Iíve had enough of dancing girls and the Spanish language. Iím ready to go home to Alaska. I wonder it Iím really going to be going to Juneau this winter for school. I wonder what all this moving around is going to do to my life in the future?
Tuesday, March 12, 2002
Today I worked on school. I wonder when I will be done 10th grade? If I could do the same schedule in a regular school that would be perfect. Like be able to work on your own schedule. Well I suppose it is impossible to ask for.
I wrote a story today about a girl who could not see the world around her as beautiful. I guess its has a little bit of me in there, like, when Iím at home in AK I want to be somewhere else. But it isnít me because I try to see everything around me as beautiful or interesting, because it usually is. As long as you see it that way it is that way in your own little prism world.
Other things that happened today was dad painted, well, he is painting at this present moment, the roof. Marcel and some lady from Holland came over today. Iíve come to the conclusion that Marcel is weird. I donít mean to be mean, but heís strange; I guess thatís what being European will do to you. Iím glad Iím an USA-ian; even if we are insensitive and arrogant.
Well mom tried to make reservations on LAN Chile, but I donít think it will happen as easy as we hope for. Since our Visas are going to run out again on the 16 of April, we were hoping mum and I could take an earlier flight, and then drive the car back to Alaska-mom and I. Fidley would come with dad when he came back tot eh states, end of April. Man-o-man, complicated as usual.
So I wonder what the US is going to look like when I get back? Clean? Crowded? Fast and busy? Well it will be a relief to live through another adventure in one in tact piece. Iím actually looking forward to what my life will bring. And as Allan K. Chalmers says, "The grand essentials of happiness are: something to do, something to love, and something to hope for." I have all those things. I have 8 things to do (maybe more); write in my journal, record my life, learn guitar and Spanish, and try to improve my self and learn as much as possible, stay on the right track and get a good education. One thing to love: Fidley, and one thing to look forward to: my life. Well letís hope I stay this hopeful through out the week, because: "Nobody really cares if you're miserable, so you might as well be happy."
So today was quite nice small bursts of sun followed by clouds. Fidley stayed by his dog window all day. He seems to be getting fatter and fatter every day. When he sits rolls of fat come over his back legs, and his feet stick out like tooth picks.
Well I guess all I have left to say is:
"Illegitimis non carborundum."
Lat., "Don't let the bastards grind you down."
-Gen. Joseph Stilwell
So farewell for now.
La Roxana de la Bodega
P.S. Iíve just now decided to include a quote a day.
Wednesday, March 13, 2002
Quote: ďWhen a cat is dropped, it always lands on its feet. When toast is dropped, it always lands butter-side-down. I propose to strap buttered toast to the back of a cat, butter facing up. The two will hover, spinning, inches above the ground.Ē
Today I went for a very nice walk indeed with my British Labrador, Fidley. I saw a dead rat with a squashed head on the road. It was an exceptionally immense dead rat, with a great tail. The tail was about 1 ft long, and what was left of the body was about as big as a soccer ball, not as round though.
Also on my walk Fidley and I saw 5 llamas walking in two straight lines in the tire tracks in the road. All of them were looking straight ahead, and it was so hilarious I almost died trying to keep the laughter in. First of all in order to describe the scene the reader must know generally what a llama looks like. For example, they have very long necks and big fat fuzzy bodies. Their eyes are very large and they have a distinct air of prehistoric Velocoraptorness about them. Or in other words they look like those freaky little dude guys in Jurassic Park- you know the ones in the kitchen with the claws, and they are really smart. Well I was worried that if I laughed at the incredibility hilarious assemblage impending apon the blonde girl and black dog, trying to walk around them. Walking toward the strange bunch they stared with acute interest all head pointed at the fid and me. Yet as we passed them staring, all of the llamas simultaneously turned their head to the other direction and focused their attention on a bird or some such thing.
With my limited brain development I cannot completely describe the hilarity of the llama ordeals to the full effect, so maybe if I write down all the detail now, when I am older and wiser and my brain is developed more I shall be able to create a picture through these small squiggles and lines.
Anyway, also on my walk I came across two cows eating tranquilly on the side of the road. As the girl with her black alligator dog on a string passed the two individuals they both looked up with an expression of undivided and absolute stupidity and blankness that one can only see on the face of a cow and perhaps my dog Fidley.
We live in a strange but special world, that can never be duplicated or perhaps would never be wanted to duplicate, but what way you or I look at it itís wonderful to be alive and even if life is not in the least bit perfect the least we can do is try out darndest to survive or else die. And thatís all I have to say about that.
So as Shakespeare would say, ďthe rest is silence.Ē
Also among the events today, dad went on the Palena with two for Marcel from Hollandís guests. Dad brought home some lupine seeds to plant in Alaska. He has a plan to plant a pink lu-pine seed for Ray Williams, one of our friends in Alaska, and say, ďhere you go Ray, hereís a pink lu-pine for you.Ē The story behind this is up in Alaska on the Pile Bay road, a few summers ago there was a lone pink lupine on the side of the road. I guess pink lupines are a rare commodity there so it was big talk among the Pile Bay crowd. Well one day when Ray was driving up the road he expected to see the welcoming site of the Pink Lu-pine there on the side of the road, but what greeted him was a lonely hole with NO pink lupine. Well that was big talk around pile bay for years and the story is still being told. I guess Ray just canít get over the fact that someone would have to cheekiness to do such a ting until later he went to visit on of the summer people who live up on the road and there in their yard was a brand new pink lu-pine right there for all to see. And that, was that.
Also today Connie is back in town, staying with Allen. She came to visit to day, bringing a notebook of some sort for me and coffee and toffee.
Thursday, March 14, 2002
Quote: ďYou can hardly see all the light cuz of all the bugs on the window, and all the lights look like bugs on the window.Ē Ė R. Roche Student and amateur writer
Today Dad went on the Palena with some quests of Marcelís. Around 2 or three in the afternoon the rain started to pour and the wind started to blow at hurricane force. It was amazing, I thought the house was going to blow away into the sky like in the Wizard of Oz, but it didnít. The bodege might look like a pile of unorganized asbestos, but its really a pretty sturdy abode per se.
The Empanada lady came by and I thing Fidley almost had a heart attack. I had him pined on the bed so he wouldnít just all over the place like a spazmo, but he still made weird noises. First I held his nose so he made little flubbery noises by breathing out his mouth and his lips flapping. When that didnít work to make him quiet, I sat on him. He still wined and screamed and acted bizarre. Nothing worked so I let him go and he just let out a whoop and good thing he was locked in the bedroom/kitchen. If he had been in the living room he probably would have killed the empanada lady. Fidley is so deranged! He absolutely lives for empanadas that the empanada lady brings. I just donít understand the poor dog. Itís beyond my comprehension what goes on in that pea brain of his; absolutely nothing.
Friday, March 15, 2002
Quote: "He who establishes his argument by noise and command shows that his reason is weak." -Michel de Montaigne
Today Dad stayed home and worked on painting the roof.
Today I worked on school and then in the afternoon, I found the missing tape of the first part of the trip. From Alaska though Edmonton and into Yellowstone. Iím going to have to take some pictures off there and put them in the first part of the journal.
Saturday, March 16, 2002
Quote: "Once the game is over, the king and the pawn go back in the same box."
Update: Mother and I have a plane ticket to leave from Concepcion on the 10th of April. Home!J Seventeen hours in a cramped miserable airplane and I will be HOME. Iím happy.
Father went to Lago Verde today, with Marcel, and 3 guests.
Sunday, March 17, 2002
Quote: "I'd rather be a could-be if I cannot be an are; because a could-be is a maybe who is reaching for a star. I'd rather be a has-been than a might-have-been, by far; for a might have-been has never been, but a has was once an are." -Milton Berle
Today we went to Lago Verde to pick up the boat. Dad had to leave it there because the axel was broken.
We stopped at a piece of property that dad was going to buy 15 years ago. It was so beautiful. With fields and trees; it was right by the Figueroa River and it had apple and pear trees. It was Fidley and my fantasy place. Fid had his very own field for but an hour and we both gorged ourselves on apples.
Dad stayed to fish for a while, then we drove down the road to Ago Verde. On the way there we say some really neat stuff; great big pheasants with deep green heads.
Reaching Lago Verde we went for a drive in the jet boat, it was raining a little but every one and a while there was a burst of sun. Dad stopped the boat at a campo next door to a place that a lady in the store in Lago Verde said was for sale. Dad fished for a while tehn he went up to yalk to the huaso up a the house.
When he came back we drove up the Rio Turbio, to the property, then we all walked back in there. Since I didnít have waders I couldnít go very far. I went back to explore the forest by the river. It was very pretty with giant coyhue trees and hanging vines. I saw three horses, but they were shy and wouldnít come up to me.
I love the forests of Chile. So exotic. I guess I forget that Iím in South America, home of the Amazon rainforests, because Iím always surprised when I see the forests, with the huge jungle trees, and hanging vines and moss. Itís not like a steamy hot jungle, itís actually quite cold, I guess thatís why Iím always so surprised to see how jungley the forests are.
Well. Iím going to miss Chile, but itís always nice to be home in Alaska. I want to go home, but this placeÖ itísÖ just this place.
It must just be my spirit, restless for new places. ďBeware your restless spirit.Ē
Monday, March 18, 2002
Quote: "You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses." -Ziggy
Today is mother and fatherís anniversary. We went out to eat at Los Copihues, and had steak and rice. We walked there and we walked right by the LA JUNTA RADIO. The door was open and you could see the DJ in there. Only in Chile. J It would have made a superb picture.
AnywayÖ that was that.
Tuesday, March 19, 2002
Quote: "To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; to leave the world a little better; whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is the meaning of success." -Ralph Waldo Emerson
Today I did school and it was nice in the morning, but by afternoon it was raining. Dad painted the house and the roof, and is now complaining of brain damage.
Wednesday, March 20, 2002
The power and water went out today.
Marcel came over bringing half bag of dog food from Lago Verde. Mom ordered the bag of dog food about 2 weeks or so ago from one of Marcelís orders. It didnít get delivered to Marcel though because the people at the store knew Marcel didnít have a dog so it was a mix up from the beginning. So the people sent it to Lago Verde instead. I dunno for what reason. Well today Marcel came over and he brought a half a bag of pedigree. Seems like some dogs in Lago Verde got to feast on some top-notch dog food for a day or two.
That afternoon we saw a truck over at INDAP that said Hanta Virus Control: Gobierno de Chile, or some such thing.
Also there was a fire in Puyuguapi. The siren in La Junta went off and stayed on for about 2 min. Later we heard from the Empanada Lady that four houses burned down in Puyuguapi. They donít have a fire station, so the bomberos from LA Junta had to drive down there. The only problem is that itís an hour drive, and by the time the fire truck got there the houses were burnt to ashes.
Thursday, March 21, 2002
Dad went to Coyhaique today. This morning Fidley ran across the road to chase a dog. Heís such a dork, I canít believe it.
It was sunny until about 2 then it started raining, and mum had to bring clothes in.
I worked on Computer most of the afternoon. Iíve discovered this very awesome web sight where you came post writings on there with a profile and such. Itís a really great tool for me to use, because it allows lots of storage space.
Iím starting to feel that this writing everyday is wearing me out. I guess if I didnít the days would just sort of blurr together.
Iím tired of Chile. I think thatís a writerís worse nightmare to get bord of the place you try to write about. I havenít even written about all the interesting things, I just canít discover the words. Maybe itís like a photographer, he must move on as soon as heís documented the majority of the things he wanted. Itís time to leave if you keep resorting back to writing about your dog, or llamas.
*sigh* Iím bord out of creation. I canít believe how bord.
Friday, March 22, 2002
Quote: Certainly, travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living. -Miriam Beard
Dad came back tonight, with lots of food and plywood. He seemed a little upset because when he painted the house a few days ago, he started to feel like he had some sort of brain swelling. Heís saying that it is not going away. Reading on the back of the paint can label- in Spanish- it says, ďDo not breath fumes, results in irreversible brain damage.Ē So dad is worried that he may have some brain damage. I certainly hope that is no the case
Astrid and Marcel came over today. Their car broke down by the Rosselot Bridge on the way to Argentina. They said something like an axel fell off or something but who knows what goes on in the brains of Europeans. That might be what they think happened but I dunno. They were out berry picking and I guess they were driving home and something made a noise. So they walked 8 miles to La Junta.
Someday I want to travel to Paris, and France; maybe Italy too. Spain would be nice, and all over Europe. That is my goal; to travel to Europe and keep a journal. That would be so much fun. I want to take pictures and such. Iíve always heard that you canít take picture s in Museums. I wonder why not. Iím going to draw up a travel plan. Then maybe someday I can get enough money together and maybe I can go with a friend or 2 or 3.
Saturday, March 23, 2002
Today I wrote a poem. Well I wrote a poem yesterday, too. Instead of a quote everyday maybe I should include a bit of poetry. Here is my first bit. I know there is room for improvement, but you have to start somewhere, and where you are is the best place to start.
Flowers of the Mind
Gardens of words.
supple like flesh.
lucid like rain.
like fair white orchids
with spherical stems,
and trenchant leaves.
This is my interpretation of my mind. Itís what I see when I close my eyes. There are many words in my mind, and they are ever changing and becoming other words. I use supple because my views about things change everyday, but they usually end up going back to what they always were. My thoughts are clear, until I have to explain them out loud. My mind is solitary; it isnít influenced by many people. I have learned to control the intake from outside sources. Spherical and trenchant are two opposite words so I used them to explain how my mind is very fickle and believes in two sides at one time. That is a very common thing with me I usually have two opinions at the same time.
I also wrote an other one today:
Leaf on the Wind
Faintly tinkling wind chimes.
Out words to spirits unnoticed.
Rainbows pour over
Sitting room chairs.
Waterfalls plummeting over
Grey quartz stones.
Red scarves tumble
Through fields of swaying rice.
No one is there.
Free, to a seeking soul.
Orange stars like burning metal.
Hang on strings of cotton.
Of one mind
Is nothing to what lies behind.
Polluted with thoughts.
Rich with ideas.
Like oceans of fish,
Waving like flags.
Rippling like water,
A tear falls.
Clear like tears
Cried by an ashen dove
On the wind.
Tears of a
Behind a steel birdcage.
Gray like mist.
Down from solitary mountains.
Sullen with experience.
White like pages
Of a book.
A mirror of my heart.
Well, I should save some room; Iím not going to have any for pictures. So today I was on the computer most the day.
Tonight we watched this show, itís like a talk show and, that were having a Tango contest from the audience. Well, I was for a prize of $1,000 and about 5 pairs of very fat people signed up. So they were up there on stage with their skimpy Tango outfits and each couple had to Tango. Well it was enormously hysterical. The men would life up the women and swing them around; well they were both fat so it was a very uncomfortable scene for both the male and female dancers.
A very different scene from the Chilena dancing girls that are on the T.V. 24/7. Iím at a complete loss of words. The T.V. is so hilarious here that I feel as though no words of mine can procure a picture for the reader.
Oh well life maintains itís simple rhythm for me. I donít know what Iím going to do when Iím back into a type A person community again. The horrorÖthe horror. I wonít have any time to write!!! Dismay, the utter misery of being rushed. I donít know why my country is this way. Efficiency, efficiency.
Well I am becoming very cold. I must say good y to the computer and all the ghost cats that lurk. I saw one while I was getting the laundry upstairs in the dark. Shiver(with fear and chilliness)
Good night one and all, may the saints be with you.
Sunday, March 24, 2002
New word: Armamentarium
Quote: From the central core of the Wednesday Psychological Society emanated the formidable Vienna Psychoanalytic society and ultimately the international psychoanalytic society.
It is raining with formidable dilution.
Well I started reading Creating Minds Howard Gardener, but found that somewhat meaningless things such as rain falling outside the window were averting my interest repeatedly. The words seemed to be one long string of words such as: I presented Psychoanalytic armamentarium of atrocious straightforwardness and therefore, no one is able to understand me and I live in my own little world. In case you are wondering what that sentence means, it doesnít mean anything because I made it up.
The rain persists. It is so cold in the Bodega; I have goose bumps, and find that my hands are atrociously cold. The fire seems to have gone out and I think my guitar is warping.
Currently, mother is on the couch under a fleece camping blanket reading Creating Minds: A anatomy of creativity seen through the lives of Freud, Einstein, Picasso, Stravinsky, Elliot, Graham, Gandhi. In other words a scholarly treatise by Howard Gardener. Maybe someday my intelligence will be developed enough to read it. I undoubtedly hope so.
Presently, dad is in the shop constructing a wooden box to keep his raft from being eaten by rats over the winter. Fairly ingenious if you ask me.
At the moment Fidley has followed mother into the kitchen. It seems as though mother is procuring something to nibble, seeing as we have not had breakfast, and Fidley, who is crazed and deranged when food is about has followed her. Well I suppose that is a bit of an exaggeration; Fidley is nothing more that astonishingly focused on the concept of food. He is now positioned on the floor of the kitchen secreting saliva (drooling). Now he entered the living room, came over to greet me and is not stationed by the door to the shop.
And if you are wondering I am sitting at the Toshiba laptop writing what will someday be very boring for someone to read. Oh well, I will enjoy it.
So I think I need to straighten something out about Little Cat. It seems as though I have neglected to write about his disappearance. Well, he was with us for about 2 weeks or so, then when we went to the Estancia for 4 days, when we came back he was gone. Well I didnít really feel that he was my responsibility, because before he was a stray. We would have had to leave the poor thing here anyway when we left to return home in April. Oh well, life is full of sad stories.
Before Cat disappeared he had run away for 2 days after New Years Eve. He came back two days later with a huge puncture in his side. I donít know maybe that killed him. It was becoming infected, so I poured some hydrogen peroxide over it. His wound was starting to heel but it could have flared up again in the 4 days that we were gone.
Well I suppose Cat is in Heaven now or perhaps Shangri La. Whatever the case Iím pleased Cat was in our lives even if just for a few weeks. He taught us about the people of the area. The culture has made them laid back and blissful, that could be mistaken for stupidity. Cat was very relaxed, very tranquil and cool; much like Huasos, Farmers and the ditzy people on T.V. In order to explain how they are, one must be familiar with the culture of Chile. It is very class oriented, hardly ever to people of low birth reach high places in society or for that matter, do any thing besides live. The people just are; they live in filthy, ugly shacks. They throw trash on he ground out of utter ignorance and they donít understand eh concept of cause and effect. Much like how it was in the USA in the 50ís; owning baby alligators was a popular thing, but as the alligators grew, so did the concern of the owners. My father was telling me a story yesterday where it was a rumor that there were 8ft long alligators in the sewers of New York. If you donít think that that would be an indication that the people didnít understand cause and effect I dunno what would. So that is how the people of this area act; burning millions of acres of 1,000 year old Coigue and Alerce trees worth millions of dollars, in order to create a field to graze a cow worth $10. I find that horribly sad, angering, and pathetic to think that the people donít think in an obviously logical manner. Perhaps that canít and that is the wretchedness of it all, to see the beautiful rainforests of Chile, being decimated because the Carabineros are too busy or to lazy, whatever the reason, to realize what ignorance is making of the beautiful area of Patagonia. I am heartbroken. Chile is a startlingly magnificent country, but if not realized soon how it is being ruined by the culture, it will be nothing more than a burnt out land or sorrow. Thank you for reading my opinion and my heart. And that, is all I have to say about that.
So, I have been writing for most of eh morning now and have not said much about anything. Maybe it is time to say Au Revoir for now.
P.S. Perhaps I was a bit hard on Chile, especially the Caribineros. Itís not their fault; they arenít even getting paid enough to care much. And maybe Chile wonít end up to be such a land of sorrow; maybe it will all work out in the end.
It is still raining.
Want to review or comment on this article?
Click here to login!
Need a FREE Reader Membership?
Click here for your Membership!
|Reviewed by Ryan
|I wonder how often you check you email? Hmmm... When will I see your first book in the store? It is amazing that I stumbled onto this site and found your journal. I don't know that you would remember, but I met you the summer before last on a plane out of Pedro Bay. I talked with your dad a couple of times and I believe he was going to try to visit me at my camp up on the Iliamna River that summer, but could not make it. You, your mother and your dad were flying on Birtchwood to Anchorage. Who knows maybe I will see you up there this year. Send me an email I would love to chat. -Ryan P.S. You can also send email to thoreau25.hotmail.com. You write very well =)|
|Reviewed by R Roche
|P.S. here is a quote to think about. And i think i should really think about it because i have a problem with it somtimes.
"Be compationate twords your fellow man. I seem to be very hard on my fellow man somtimes, but i have this thing where once i write somthing i can't erase it. It was my thought at the time and even if it is not what i beliecve now it was still a thought. Thanks for listning or reading, because if you arn't reading than you wouldn't care anyway.