Andes on the rise, Los Dominicos, Santiago. by Chevigny Brady

This is my 100th, and last, post from the Southern Cone.  At least this year.  The living room is strewn with suitcases and last-minute “to do” lists, my head is spinning with all the places I need to go this morning.  I look out my window one last time, sipping coffee, as the Santiguenos scurry up and down the street, going about their daily details, oblivious to the fact that my life is changing.  In a very good way.  My time here has been like a great feast; it is now the morning after, and I am basking in the glow of memories of wonderful company, astounding surroundings, stimulating conversations and rich, reflective moments.  Chao, Chile.  Nos vemos luego.

Sun on the lowdown, moon on the rise, Los Dominicos. By Chevigny Brady

This experience has been life-changing, in so many ways. I am reminded every moment of how precious each breath is.  I leave this country with the memory of my own potential death seared into my brain, and the real deaths of others heavy on my heart.

How ironic is it, that each time I have actually put down roots here, I have had a searing, life-changing experience?

Tomorrow night the plane leaves.  My soul stays here, in this land of ancients, magic, wine, and the most active earthquake zone on the planet.

Profs. Ale, Elina, Carolina, Lisa, Josefina

It started with warm summer nights, then an earthquake; an upended office covered in ceiling plaster and aftershocks.  Together, the law faculty, students and I felt our way through.  Last night, one of my colleagues gave me a going-away party; the dean and many professors came.  Champagne, wine, whiskey and beer; I got home at two a.m., and up at 8 a.m., with a head cold.  But I feel really great.  Maybe it’s the adrenaline of new adventures about to start.    It’s hard to believe this chapter in my life is coming to a close.  But many more are being opened. I know that these great colleagues will be coming with me as I head north in a few days.  Their spirits, their friendship, and our continued collaboration.  What a great ride this has been.

Roman lawyers, civil procedure, investigation, these guys definitely know how to party too.

Profs. Jose Pedro Silva, Carlos Frontaura, Roberto Guerrero, Dean Yrarrázaval, Sebastian Lopez and others

Chevigny shooting the sunset, Costa Brava, Chile

I got off the plane from Antofagasta last Tuesday, only to turn around on Wednesday morning and rent a car to drive to Valparaiso, where I had a consulting job with the Universidad Catolica de Valparaiso. Packed into the car with me were my “brothers” Fred and Gary, my daughter Chev, and enough cocktail hour libations to keep us going for a week. We only pack the essentials.

Chevigny and Horacio examining the seafood menu, ConCon, Chile

Unfortunately for me, I was also working on a bug (or it was working on me) which made me lose my appetite completely for five days, along with a bunch of weight, and did nothing for my anime.  Not only that, we arrived at my wonderful friend Horacio’s house only to find out that he had decided to cut the internet service, and the only heat that was working were the two wood stoves.  So all my glorious plans to leave this place on a high note, with exploratory trips up and down the coast, basically ended with me dragging myself to and from the U, and staring out at the ocean on the couch trying to stay hydrated.  But the views, and the sunsets, didn’t let us down.

Chevigny, Gary & Fred savoring a beautiful warm day in Vina del Mar

Today, I decided no one could return to Santiago without seeing Valparaiso.  This is a city that makes San Francisco look like it’s wimpy little sister; just looking at the hills make you break into a sweat.  Try driving up and down them with a stick shift to spice things up a bit.  Me and my little Peugot did just fine, although I did have just two “misdirected turns” where I ended up plummeting down (one) and up (one) street the wrong way.   There were a few screams from Gary and the backseat was unusually quiet, but other than that, a delightful time was had by all.

Savoring the Splendor of Valparaiso

I even returned the car to Santiago early, without a scratch.  Way to go.  Now just one more presentation tomorrow, and I am home free – for a few days….

Part of the University of Antofagasta campus. What views!

Antofagasta is ridiculed by Santiguenos who find it ugly.  It is a long strip of a city clinging to the coast, but I found it had a stark beauty to it; shifting colors of sand and sea, brightly painted houses and fishing boats.   There is a thriving port, hotel industry (all the mining business), and fishing.

But it is a hardscrabble place too, and you have to like the dry and desert colors; because the mines use so much (97%) of the electricity, and the water, it remains expensive.  Chile’s trade offs for keeping its economy stable.

On the campus looking toward the "coast range" - mountains on one side, sea on the other

After four hours of sleep, I arrived at the University of Antofagasta to immediately begin my seminars; 3 hours, then a tour, then lunch, then a meeting, another seminar until 6 pm.  As we drove up the coast toward the airport, the setting sun formed a perfect ball of raging fire in the sky, slashing the horizon with vivid colors.

Lunch with the faculty - at the "Casino Enjoy" - gotta love it

Wonderful people, energized faculty, and another great adventure under my belt.

But things could be so much worse.  Good thing I watched the BBC news before I left tonight.  All the flooding in Pakistan and fires in Russia remind me that a delayed flight is but a minor inconvenience.

But still.

Some of Cachapoal Valley's finest

There is a way to begin to end your time in Chile, and I happen to think the best is to worship at the feet of the grape.  So that’s what we did today, in a 10-hour, three-winery, 12-wines tasting spectacle.

Yes, we had a driver and private guide.  And, um, wow.  We started at the Ankara Winery, in the foothills of the Andes, and tasted four spectacular wines, a Syrah, Carmenere, Sauvignon Blanc and a Cabernet blend.  The tasting room had dramatic wood and stone and amazingly, the winery suffered no earthquake damage.

Tasting room at Anakena

We then headed off to Viña Altair, the premium winery of the San Pedro Group; in perhaps the most dramatic setting of all, its sleek, ultramodern building dominates a cleft in the Andean foothills, with a commanding view of the valley below.

The dramatic Vina Altair

Here, the owners have spared no expense in employing the latest equipment and technology.  We were greeted with coffee on the terrace, then led on a private tour which ended with a tasting of the only two wines they produce, the Altair and the Sideral.  Simply divine…..

We then moved on to the Vina Casa Silva, the only one of the wineries we visited to have suffered some damage during the quake.

The restaurant at Casa Silva

The old house that served as the boutique hotel and restaurant was closed, but we ate at the “makeshift restaurant” entering to find a roaring fire, perfectly set table, beef cooked to perfection accompanied by the Casa Silva Reserva Carmenere…. The Casa Silva winery is a family affair, run by Mario Silva, his wife, and three of their four sons.  This winery was the first to produce a Sauvignon Gris. 

The wines are stored in underground passageways, evoking some of the ancient caves in Europe. The exclusive Altura wine is bottled and stored below in one of these underground passageways, carefully labeled by hand when buyers order the bottles.

The winery uses older cement casks (lined with stainless steel), oak barrels and stainless steel tanks.  The wineries we visited, although they used presses for several wines, used gravity as well, so as not to “bruise” the grapes.

A "modern crusher" at Altair Vineyards

Old french press at Vina Casa Silva

The guide told us that when she arrived at the winery the morning after the earthquake, the streets outside the vineyard were running red with wine; a few of the barrels had developed cracks and gravity took over from there.  Yet another tragedy.

One of the buildings at the winery collapsed by the quake

In English, we do not use diminutives, but in Latin America, especially Chile, they are a part of being; they are part of the air you breathe.  They add affection to the language, to how we interact with one another.

And this is apropos of nothing.  Just a little language lesson for you.

The “Espectacular” of the weekend was the sun finally piercing the rainy, cold dark clouds today, creating an intense brilliance that brought the Andes into razor-sharp focus, the moon into full light, and two wonderful plays:  Saturday night’s performance by La Compañía de Teatro Negro Bosquimanos Koryak’s “El Truco de Olej” – a troupe using black light to bring fantasy to light, and tonight, a trip to Teatro Nacional’s performance of “La Mala Clase.” I worked furiously all weekend on “work.”  This was the art. Che.

There are so many miniscule snippets of culture we never see when we are “connected;” snippets of information, and moments of time, which are the atoms that float beneath the surface of our lives – atoms that nevertheless connect us and add context and texture to who we are – but which we fail to notice.  When I first arrived here, I found out that Andres Bello, the author of Chile’s legal code, based it upon that of the state of Louisiana.  How many of us U.S. citizens know Lousiana has a code?  And that Chile emulated it? After dinner at a lawyer friend’s house last night, he pulled out the official code of the State of Lousiana.   He was working on a case, and there was an issue, you see, with this one part of the code….

Lisa, Horacio, Rodrigo at El Toro with a pisco sour. It's damn cold...but not so much when you are with friends

The night before, I had a simple dinner with friends whose lives have been inexorably intertwined with mine for so many years I have lost count.  We communicate without having to plan, without often having to speak.  Their struggles of being gay men in a Catholic country will always resound with me, teaching me things, in those silent places in my heart.

I walk home with the ice cold full moon tonight as my partner.  Breathing in the spirit of the people, the wisdom, the moments of shared experience as I measure my steps. Into the silence.

Lo Bueno?  Lots.  Today the two vice deans and the professor in charge of “student affairs” set off on the 5-hour car trip to Chillan, where about 100 law students are working out in the cold and rain all day building houses in the earthquake-ravaged towns; and at night sleeping in community centers and grade school cafeterias in sleeping bags.  Eating noodles and tuna.  My daughter Chevigny is out there somewhere among them. The law school wants to show the students and people there that it supports everyone’s efforts.  The students are working in 10 groups of ten, scattered in different places all around the area; the profs will visit each site. And the two vice deans actually have day jobs, as lawyers.  Talk about putting your billables aside for the cause.

It’s just a little gesture, in a little town, in a long skinny country, going unnoticed by the rest of the world.  But not by me.  I love this.