Chile, 2010

After the gallery, I walked to the main city square. By then, the sun was setting and I arrived just in time to witness a religious procession – a few hundred people, most with candles, some with banners of the Virgin Mary, and some in religious robes. The priests leading the march were swinging incense, and somewhere in the middle was an altar with a statue of Jesus. Then bells tolled and hymns played over the speakers of a van set up for the purpose. Everyone joined in singing, including spectators. Quite touching really, even though the religious practices themselves hold no meaning for me anymore.

The cathedral itself is on the square, so I went in and drifted a while in its reverential ambience. The square is also the place for street artists and buskers. I will keep my eye out for a painting to add to my collection of originals from around the world. Before leaving the square, I went over to listen to a singer who had drawn a bit of a crowd ([name]; I bought her CD to remember the moment). Some of the people were watching, but most – young and old – were spontaneously dancing. I was almost moved to tears, to see such natural joy, such celebration of life. It is one of the things I love about Latin culture. Music moves them, literally.

I am writing from Marco Polo restaurant, on the main square in Santiago. Needless to say, I lost a day, after my sleepless night and then only waking at 1.21 pm! I suppose I must be patient with my body and let it adjust to the jetlag in its own time, but it’s a bit frustrating, as I was hoping for a productive day.

There are lots of stray dogs around town, which I find upsetting. Strangely though, some of them have little jerseys on. Who would give them a jersey and then put them back on the street? Earlier, I saw one that was running round and round in a big circle, almost like you see with caged animals, when they start to lose their minds. Very sad. I was tempted to go into Burger King and buy him/her a hamburger (but I didn’t).

We are just over half way to Valdivia. We are pulled over at the side of the road so that my host can have a little nap. It’s a good idea, as he’s been driving for 5 hours already. Just south of Santiago is the wine and fruit growing region. It must be lovely in the autumn when all the vines are reds and browns. Further south, it is more cattle and sheep farming. And virtually all the way, the snow-capped Andes are in sight.

I heard about how [name] and his wife met in the desert, and a little bit about his time in exile, when Chile was under dictatorship rule. He told me about how one day he was sitting on a bus and got talking to the guy next to him. At the end of the bus ride, the guy – who turned out to be the Director of the Dag Hammarskjöld Foundation – invited him to Sweden to spend a few months, fully funded, writing down his experiences of working in the poor communities of Chile. Needless to say, he’s strongly of the view that one shouldn’t get fixated on a single point, but rather be sensitive and alive to the opportunities that life presents us with.

Well, we arrived in Valdivia around 7 pm, after 10 hours. The city is right on the sea, with a massive river going through it, and the university (of which [name] was President a few years ago) is on an island. I look forward to seeing it all in the daytime. In fact, my host has suggested I sit in on an oral exam for one of his economics students (which will be in English).

The house, which my host and his wife had designed and built, is amazing. It has lots of wood panelling and large glass windows that look on the garden. I had a quick look at his study last night. Oh! My! Word! It is so beautiful. Floor to ceiling books, a grand piano and two walls of glass which look out across the garden and the river. No wonder he writes such inspiring thoughts! Anyway, I have my own little desk here for the week and I am going to be happy as a pig in mud! One of the wonderful things about the house is that, wherever you look, there are photos, paintings and various mementos from their travels around the world. I am sure each one has a story.