La Sebastiana

En mi casa he reunido juguetes pequeños y grandes, sin los cuales no podría vivir. El niño que no juega no es niño, pero el hombre que no juega perdió para siempre al niño que vivía en él y que le hará mucha falta. 

In my house I have brought together playthings small and large, without which I could not live. The child that does not play is not a child, but the man who does not play has lost forever the child that lived in him and that he will greatly miss.

-Pablo Neruda

Well, I tried to get on the bus and instead of helping me up and saying, "Hola, Señorita Laura," the driver closed the doors in my face. I must be back in the city.

There were, however, some pretty amazing things waiting for me back here. Like the beautiful faces of my Seet-mates (so named for the Spanish pronunciation of SIT: Seet) who greeted me when I showed up un-announced at Thanksgiving dinner with hugs and laughter. And the beautiful time we spent sharing our holiday, however rag tag it might have been. Failing pumpkin pie, I made peach cobbler and Sloan showed up with the perfect accompaniment: blueberry sauce. No cranberries to be found either. And the ability to skype my family while they ate their pumpkin pie (I'm not bitter, really) and Katie played me her Thanksgiving song on the ukelele. So cute I felt like I was in a Google Plus commercial. And showers. I really like showers, guys.

Also, summer came to the city while I was away and I seem to have returned a friendlier, more vibrant and fashionable place. I think maybe Santiaguinos just don't like the cold.

Nevertheless, my first move upon coming back to Santiago was to leave again, and go to Valpo. I felt I had some unfinished business there. Namely, the unfinished business was to enjoy, but I also accomplished a goal I've had since arriving here: visit all three of Pablo Neruda's houses.

Isla Negra

I would generally consider myself a fan of Neruda (though I need to read more), before coming to Chile because of the complex beauty of his poetry and now as an icon of Chile's art and struggle. But his houses are an art of their own.

La Chascona

Neruda believed in space, and its capacity to shape experiences. And, like any good writer, he believed in symbolism. Isla Negra (near Algarrobo, where we spent our orientation weekend) stretches long and sprawling, like Chile. La Chascona, which I loved as its own island of serenity in the middle of Santiago, is for all the world, a ship. And La Sebastiana in Valpo goes up, with one room for each of its five stories, each one curving cozily in on its inhabitants in stacked circles.

La Sebastiana

I'd have to say Isla Negra is my favorite, partially because it houses in grandest scope the poet's collections. There are paintings of watermelons lining the walls, a table full of guitars and a whole room full of seashells. When asked about being coleccionista, Neruda replied that he was in fact cosista. That is, not so much a collector as a pursuer of things.

Something about that sentiment has stuck with me. I love significant objects. I just like tangibility. I like being able to hold reminders of my experiences in my hands, trace my memories with the my fingers. A bead shaped like a turtle from Pine Ridge. A teacup that belonged to my grandmother. A small smooth stone I picked up outside my back door in Chapod.

Surrounded by these things, I feel at home. I feel a little uncomfortable admitting that, because it feels slightly materialistic. But I think that in reality it's the opposite. I have little interest in things with no meaning. It the objects that tell stories that I love. Symbols, you might say.

El Poeta

In Neruda's houses, there are African masks, European paintings and Asian screens, momentos from his travels that he brought home with him to Chile, where he would sit comfortably in a chair he christened too, (called La Nube, The Cloud) and look at the water and write.

I think that's a way to make travels part of home. I'd like to surround myself with my stories from far-off places. Chapod, Santiago, Valparaiso, Buenos Aires. Algarrobo - where we will soon return to present our research projects. Now with altered perspectives, profound friendships and significantly improved Spanish. And then I will pack up my suitcase, with my stories and my things.

Disclaimer: The above quote really has nothing to do with post, except that Neruda said it and I liked it.