Chile Dawgs

Mireya with Baloo, Charly and Alfie

I feel compelled to write but I don’t have a theme.  It happens. I expected Chile to be different from Argentina but it is different in every possible way.  We have some acquaintances here.  We knew Mireya in Toronto.  Not very well but she was in Sophie’s circle.  She and her husband Luis live in the southeast of Santiago.  They live in an ‘ecological’ development which seems to be shorthand for ‘how the world might have turned out if the sixties didn’t go sideways’.

Santiago is cradled within mountains.  Everywhere you look there are mountains just out of reach. They were misty when we arrived.  The next day the sun burnt off the mist and they were mauve, sandstone, grey-purple and blackish green in places.   They are not particularly sharp but they are comfortingly close. Sometimes it is reminiscent of Banff – but Banff with a population of, what...15 Million?!?!? and dropped into New Mexico or Colorado perhaps Arizona.

At the entrance to Mireya and Luis’ enclave is a cluster of little artisanal shops.  Ceramics, weaving, knitting, crocheting, and the like are for sale and too, those skills are offered as classes for children and adults.  Yoga Tuesdays and Fridays and a few restaurants rest happily beneath the huge trees.  People walk around in hippy weeds, their gait is loose and easy. Travel a up the road a little further and then turn up the Buena Camino: a delicious serpentine macadam road that winds easily between brobdignagian eucalyptus trees – it's a scene right out of LOTR .  There are no curbs; asphalt hugs the bases of the trees - it lies like it was taffy poured from a jug. Drivers slow and pull over for oncoming cars because it is a bit too narrow for two cars to pass easily in most areas.  People hitchhike in this community; it is safe within the perimeters though, interestingly, not particularly neighbourly – Chileans seem to be family focused but not particularly inclined to share time with immediate neighbours (I am told).  As in the rest of Santiago and what we have seen of Chile so far, each house has a fence or wall in front.  An automated gate permits ingress and egress of vehicles and humans.  Dogs are everywhere, they wander quite freely though we are given to understand that the perimeter of each yard in sacrosanct and foreign dogs enter at their peril and often perish if they trespass.  It is the law of this place and everyone knows and respects it.  Dogs are so present in Chile and Argentina in fact that I suspect that half the canine of the population of the world can be found in Latin America. The houses in the community are all unique, much of them designed and jerry-built – which doesn’t mean they are poorly constructed, just that they are often quirky in design and features. Some are distinctly hobbit-like. Some do look a tad shaky.

Luis and Mireya live at the ‘top’ of Buena Camino – theirs is the last cross street – named Camino las Estrellas.  It does seem that you could leap to the stars if you got a good enough run up the Buena Camino. To get to their home you take a right from the smooth macadam; the road immediately turns to hellacious dirt and rocks whose sole purpose seems to be to eviscerate your vehicle.  Fortunately they live only a hundred or so feet along.  Another right down a narrow drive brings you to their gate.  When it swings inwards you find yourself in an Eden-like sanctuary.  Baloo, Charly and Alfie (you have to work at getting Alfie to like you) are there to greet you.  Baloo is a giant, male yellow lab; neck like a bull and male apparatus to match.  He’s only nine but already has a touch of the ‘thritis.  Never mind, he’s as friendly as any lab you can find.  He talks a bit; low-frequency groans and grunts that surely are meant to communicate his pleasure at your acquaintance or his discomfiture at the pinch of fall that is in the air.  Charly is a as smart as a whip. Part border collie, she has a gentle manner, deep, chestnut brown, voluble eyes and a silky black coat with just a hint of brindle mutt in her fetlocks. Alfie is similarly small with a wavy black coat with a brilliant white tuxedo chest - maybe a bit of spaniel, some border collie and a touch of terrier.  He’s much more reserved and will take his own sweet time in deciding whether you can be a friend.  Chuck him under the chin for a bit and give him a few rubs on the insides of his oversized ears and he’s yours.

The house that Luis and Mireya designed is literally fantastic.  Statues, masks, dreamy paintings and a thousand small amuse-guele abound. In the towering hallway a winding iron staircase leads up to the master bedroom and star-watching dome.  Through and to the right is a generous kitchen with a heavy wooden table.  Another table in the next room would easily seat 10.  Luis and Mireya seem to do a lot of their day-to-day work there – Luis has a few projects on the go and Mireya is an art and music therapist.  The floors are variously stone, tile, and dark, tropical wood.  Keep moving to the right and there is a passageway, a shortish hallway lined with plants, that brings you to their music room.  It’s a musician’s dream with every instrument and noise-making piece of hardware you can imagine. What an auditory feast! Luis lit a fire in the small stove at the far end of the room when we arrived because it was a particularly cool evening. We sat and talked and were immediately at home. Luis shared a wonderful and terrible life story - mostly wonderful - from the crucible of Chile in the 70s he has emerged a gentle, compassionate man.

The side and rear of the house open to a hectare or so of porch that Luis has been working on for a year or so.  Trees thrust from the porch or arch over it, creating shady pools and yummy sun struck islands.  Below, down a few stairs is a path to their swimming pool.  Too cool now to swim in but very inviting.  Hemming the porch are a variety of shrubs and trees.  Peaches and almonds grow here.  Bougainvillea, hibiscus, figs too. Reach out and grab a few leaves of lemon-balm to make a delicious tea. Here’s a rosemary bush the size of a car.  And succulents are everywhere in Santiago so there are dozens of cacti, sedum, jade plants, agave  – I have no idea what 90% of the plants are.  It’s absolutely magnificent.

I've neglected to mention Emma and Simon, two of their children who live here as well.  They have been generous and welcoming to us as well.  Evan went to school with another of Mireya’s children, Camilla, at Ossington Old Orchard Public School – that’s how we came to know Mireya.

Enough for now.  I am writing this from their beach-house which is an hour north of Valparaiso.  It looks west to Australia perhaps.  I’ll put together a few words about this ocean idyll in a later posting.

We have landed in a cradle of kindness and generosity, so we can just eat and laugh with friends. We’ll take to the road soon enough.

We are now more than half way through our journey.  We’ve felt strong yearnings to return home from time to time but every day has a different energy and buoys us or drops us.  Part of the deal.