Braunau & Beyond

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Could have been my grandpa

Making Empanadas

Volcano Osorno, Puerto Varas

 

Jan. 13, 2009-Expectations

I guess I'm just a small town gal. Before we left Santiago yesterday Leo from Evergreen, Colorado, asked me if the trip was all I'd hoped for. He'd done tons of reading and had built up his expectations. I told him that so far we'd been in one big city and that's all it was, a big city. I'd seen better views, more beautiful buildings, and more exciting markets. But there is diversity in its settlers. A main thoroughfare in Santiago is named O'Higgins, after one of the founders. What fascinated me was the history of the country and how quickly a government can go in the wrong direction and human rights be taken away. He agreed but we both nodded and said we'd just seen it done on a much lesser scale at home. Although Allende was democratically elected by barely more than 1/3 of the plebiscite (three candidates were running) all hell broke loose. Someone suggested that in our country we're too passive to have a shooting revolution. We also don't yet have the economic disparity Chile did at that time. Our guide agreed saying it's easier to lead Americans. We follow the rules, wait patiently in line, and generally comply. At dinner at the ranch yesterday Leo and I looked at each other and said, "This is more like it."

Let's play catch-up. Traveling with Laura Lee is a hoot. The other day we were waiting to cross the street when a male dog urinated on a plastic bag containing what looked like someone's lunch. Our guide and dog lover, Fernando, shooed him away. As he retreated, the dog continued to dribble. Laura Lee commented, "I've known men with a similar problem." It cracked us up.

Another comment was made by our guide Marco in Santiago. He said we were ready for a pit stop. He explained that "pit stop" was a colloquialism he'd practiced saying until he got it right. Spanish speakers aren't good at pronouncing two consonants when they come together at the end of one word and beginning of the next. It would come out "pis stop" which was actually an accurate description of our intent.

German Roots

We started our day with a trip to the Museo Allemande in the town of Braunau. As soon as we left Puerto Varas it started to look like Ohio with rolling hills, cows, and sheep. The museum was the inspiration of one man, Antonio Felmer, whose passion it was to preserve the past farm and household implements of the original German immigrants. The approach is down an alley of poplar trees to a barn filled with objects any Amish farmer would be comfortable using. Unfortunately we are old enough to be familiar with some of the wares as well. Antonio led our tour and proudly demonstrated the tools and machines. Most all were in working order. Photos of families lined the walls as we climbed the steps to the museum level. One man resembled my grandfather and one woman looked like my mother as a young woman.

Chile freed itself from Spain in 1810 and needed settlers. They enticed Germans here by offering them free land and the Germans came in 1844. Chile wanted only Catholics but several Lutherans sneaked in. No one cared once they were here. They were from an area of Germany that is now the Czech Republic. At that time the Industrial Revolution was taking its toll on the economy and conscription was escalating with a desire for German expansion. The immigrants sailed from Hamburg through the North Sea and the Strait of Magellan. They found themselves in a Chilean rainforest and began clearing the land for farms and using the lumber for building. Now there's a real deforestation problem.

Our next jaunt was to yet another fish and produce market outside of Puerto Varas. It wasn't particularly stinky. David had a marvelous cheese empanada, I had my daily banana and we headed down to the craft market. We were seriously shopping at a stall that happily took VISA. There was a tiny bit of bargaining, our purchases were wrapped, and we were ready to pay. Then the VISA machine stopped working. The lady spent a good long time (twenty minutes or so) trying to get a connection and calling tech support. The bottom line was we had to pay cash or not buy anything. At that point Fernando came looking for us and he offered to lend us some pesos. Even then we didn't have enough. We decided to pay in U.S. dollars. That meant renegotiating. We didn't like the exchange rate she was giving us so our discount on the price fluctuated. We finally agreed on a price and bolted for the bus. Both the shopkeeper & we were a little unhappy which means the bargaining was fair.

Quakes & Quagmires

As we pulled back into Puerto Varas we were told why there aren't any old buildings. There was an earthquake of 9.7 on the Richter Scale in 1960. It was followed by a tsunami that wiped out the whole town. What they've rebuilt is along the old architectural German lines. A nice touch is the lace curtains in the windows of the schools. Lunch was (poor David) salmon. It was delicious as far as I was concerned. Salmon farms are a major industry here. Their biggest customers are the U.S. and Japan. The salmon is shipped already processed. Salmon farming started in 1792 (not a typo) when a woman brought some roe down from North America. The location of Chile on the Pacific and the many rivers made a perfect environment for the endeavor.

Fernando and four of us took off after lunch for a forty minute ride on the public bus to the town of Frutillar. He wanted to see their new concert hall which is still under construction and will be spectacular. It sits on the same lake as our hotel as well as the town of Frutillar. It's so much more charming than Puerto Varas but more remote. Fernando gave us basic directions on where to get a bus back to the hotel and we wandered the town. We went through an outdoor and less impressive version of the museum we'd seen in the morning, strolled through crafts shops superior to the ones near the market, and sipped coffee (some ate kuchen) by the lake. I've become a coffee drinker, even espresso. Maybe it's the sipping ritual, but I'm ok with the caffeinated brew here. It was a delightful few hours. We did find the correct bus back and thanks to David got off at the right stop in Puerto Varas before it headed for the next town.

We had a group meeting where Fernando outlined tomorrow and answered some of our questions about Chile. We learned that school is compulsory until age eighteen and that public university is better than private. There are scholarships available for the gifted but needy, but all university education in Argentina is free. That extends to non-Argentinians. So someone from the U.S. could get a free college education in Argentina if they could speak Spanish. There is public and private health insurance and income tax of 10% if you earn over $10,000. There is also a VAT (value added tax) tax on all purchases. Fernando teared up as he told us of the opportunities in Argentina, his homeland. His grandparents had a grammar school education when they immigrated. His parents finished high school. He is a university graduate, speaks English and Portuguese, and has traveled the world.

We found Dino's Restaurant which is the local Denny's for a light dinner and headed back to re-pack for tomorrow. I mentioned that we're going to Bariloche, Argentina by way of three boats and four buses. It will take fourteen hours. Because the prediction is for rain and because our luggage will be transferred en masse from bus to boat several times we were given plastic trash bags in which to pack our clothing. Anything in soft-sided luggage will get soaked. I bet Fernando had a bad experience with angry tourists before he figured out the trash bag solution. So now, I will unpack all my carefully rolled clothing, shove it in a trash bag, put it back in the duffel, and hope for the best. We'll arrive very late tomorrow so don't expect any email from me.

Toby