Day 31: Sunday, 2/03/2008. Museo de la Moda: dedicated to the history of costume. Aurora insists on working, so Luke and I head to the fashion museum at around 3pm, giving us just over an hour to view the exhibits. I expect the place to be teeming with people but it is very still.
The Museo de la Moda was established in 1999 by Jorge Yarur Bascunan, heir to a Chilean textiles empire. The museum itself is the old family home, designed under the influence of architect Frank Lloyd Wright [who, ironically, was a topic of dinner conversation the night before].
The museum makes a stunning entrance to operatic strains: the courtyard, shaded by Japanese maples, leads into the historical prelude to the collection, which includes a list of past tennis Grand Slam event winners [...?].
Bourgeousie French music as the light dims us into the past. First, a dressing room, wardrobe, satin-covered coathangers. The living room is a study of different textures and cultural styles, mixed wallpapers, garish gold accents on natural shades and fibres.
Between these rooms and the next display: Chinese lanterns. Two women's dresses from the 1800s appear in their own climate-controlled box at the entrance to two rooms of tennis apparel. Old outfits from tennis greats have been donated to the museum - I am particularly amazed at the crystal detail on the women's tennis dresses. Were they designed to dazzle their opponents? The list of tennis from the entrance makes a little sense now.
From room displays we are propelled into a Ford Thunderbird and scrolling images of Hollywood pin-ups past.
I am disappointed by the fact this seems to be an exploration of interior design and tennis rather than real fashion, then the world unfolds as we are flung into room after room of dresses and costumes and formal attire from the 1700s to 2003. I am amazed at the vast array of big-name designers and actors who have contributed items (eg. Gaultier, Chanel, Versace, Armani, Joan Collins), inspired by the longevity of the haute couture empires and of the fashion itself. It is interesting to see how techniques, textures, shapes and patterns have changed; more fascinating to discover how much has been recycled or remained the same.
They keep the house open late for us and other latecomers. The house itself is on display; the wall texture, colour and music evolves at similar intervals to its contents, but they are not in synergy. I love it. All of it. Luke comments that it would have been nice to see a contrasting representation from pop & punk culture and casual attire and I tend to agree, but I wonder where they would put it.
Favourite quotes from the front end of the museum:
Carelessness in dressing is moral suicide. Honore de Balzac
When in doubt, wear red. Bill Blass
| The story of my new coat. It's by Pitti Palacios, a Chilean designer [take a look at the website - my coat is last one on the right]. When I discovered she was from Valparaiso, I pinched myself for not finding her shop while I was there, not that there was any time to shop. My coat awaited my arrival in a display cabinet in the Museo gift shop. I asked for the price, determined it was really too much, and decided to leave it to fate [for those who have shopped with me before, that means leaving it on the rack, then trying it on if it is still there after looking at the gallery, just to prove it's a bad fit]. Unfortunately it was fabulous. Now I have a designer coat from Chile :) |
Epic Automobilic Adventure #1: finding food. Our search for lunch [at 5:30pm! The guards let us stay at the museum well past closing time] takes us all over Providencia, to no avail. It's Sunday and nothing is open. We arrive home, despondent, at 6:30pm. Luke's banana smoothies tide us over.
Epic Automobilic Adventure #2: more attempts to find food. We leave the house at about 7:40pm, as restaurants in Santiago break after the lunch rush and reopen for dinner at 7:30pm. We enjoy an impromptu tour around Santiago [it's becoming a regular part of every drive] and arrive at the restaurant just after 9pm.
Dinner is fantastic. We eat at a Peruvian restaurant called El Aji Seco, which Aurora & Luke visited once before. It is in a part of town that Luke forbids me from entering by myself, "even during the day".
The interior is tacky and plastic, like a cheap Chinese restaurant that is overly lit. Soccer is playing on the TV, which is up too loud. The commentator screams at every near-goal. We move tables rather than ask for a change in volume; soon it seems that another gringo has satisfied our wish by asking for that very thing. Then the children at the next table start playing loudly, or maybe they were that loud before, masked by the fanatical commentator. It's a good sign that most of the other patrons are Peruvian.
I look to the menu. Nothing is remotely recognisable, the waiters do not speak English and there are no pictures to help. I am very grateful for my friends' recommendations, which are most delicious. We share two corn-based meals for entree; tamale (seasoned polenta bread with chicken and an olive baked in the middle) with a red onion and coriander salad, and choclos a la huancaina (ginormous corn kernels with a lightly-spiced yellow sauce made from mild orange chillis, corn and breadcrumbs). We order recoto, a super-hot chilli sauce, on the side. Even just dipping the tip of your fork into it before a mouthful gives the huancaina a real zing.
As we eat, Luke and Aurora explain to me the strong Chinese influence in modern Peruvian cooking and the wide variety of foods available to Peruvians because of the diversity of climates in the country.
We each have very different and equally tasty mains. Mine is aji de gallina, a shredded chicken dish, potato and olive dish with the huancaina sauce; Aurora orders another tamale after the success of the entree; Luke has the seco de vercun, beef with coriander and beans [seco de cordero is the same dish with lamb]. I can not believe the cost, at only 15,000 pesos ($US30) for three of us. Moi rico! I am inspired to buy a Peruvian cookbook when I get home and seek out the ingredients.
Epic Automobilic Adventure #3: the dvd-returning debacle. It takes a long time to get to Blockbuster to return The Chronicles of Riddick, which we had borrowed several days earlier, because of the one-way streets. Luke decides it is the perfect time to try a short-cut home. It turns out to be a long-cut.
Day 32: Monday, 3/03/2008. Today I seek great Chilean art in Bellavista. While I find some inspiration, the art is pretty much the same from gallery to gallery. What I like is either too expensive or sold already.
| An interesting thing that Luke & Aurora told me about when I first got to Santiago but I forgot to mention. The police in Santiago drive around in vans that are fitted with crowd control devices. The locals have dubbed them with pet names that correspond to local animals, depending on the mechanism. For example, the van with the water cannon is known as guanako (named for the spitting action of the llama-like creature), and the tear-gas vehicle is zorrillo (or 'skunk', for obvious reasons...). Cool, eh? There are also street performers at almost every set of traffic lights in central Santiago. They appear in front of you when the lights are red - magicians, clowns, jugglers, acrobatic troupes. Once they have completed a few tricks, and most are impressive, they hold out their hands for pesos and move on to try their luck with the next layer of cars. |
Day 33: Tuesday, 4/03/2008. I start the day with breakfast and a walk through Santiago, along Avendia Pocuro. This leads me to a strip of green and park alongside the intersecting main road known as Parque Tobalaba. I follow Parque Tobalaba to its end, at the famous building with hanging gardens that has won architectural accolades and receives many Japanese tourists; around the bend is Parque Bernardo Leighton, separated from Parque Tobalaba by a central drain. I follow this second park back to Av. Pocuro: the round trip takes me over two hours. I am energised.
My shopping expedition in Bellavista. A quick internet search tells me that the semi-precious lapis lazuli is found only in Chile and Afghanistan. I am keen to take some home and am amazed at the plethora of jewellery shops within a few blocks of each other.
| Parking in Santiago. You will find that, in some streets where there is no official parking inspector, cheeky locals have decided to assume the duties. Even if you know they are not legitimate, they may reason that they are providing a community service by making sure you car does not get hit or scratched (thereby inferring that your car will get damaged if you refuse to pay). These rogue inspectors are not seen as a real nuisance. With parking spaces so tight in general, it is useful to have someone there to assist with parking. It's also good to know that there is someone keeping watch over your car while you are away. In several places, you can even get you car washed while you are away from your car, for a fee of course. Many shopping centres have carwashes fitted into their undercover carparks, which operate for a small fee. Now that would encourage me to keep my car clean! I think this idea should be introduced to Perth shopping centres. |
The latter part of the afternoon is spent fruit & veg shopping at La Vega.
Dinner at Pablo's. Pablo is one of Luke & Aurora's friends [He is about to start his Masters studies and works with aerial photography to identify changes in forestation over time. I thought Landgate friends may find this interesting]. Aurora, Luke and I have been invited to a small dinner party at his place to taste his magnificent huacaina sauce.
At first, it appears that there will be six of us. Then a seventh setting is placed at the table. Then a torrent of Spanish-speaking people suddenly appear in the living room. Then they are gone and there is food on the table at around 11pm. Apparently this is usual, late dinners and people wandering in and out between the next-door apartments.
I am getting used to late meals: breakfast is served at around 11am, lunch between 3 and 5pm, dinner no earlier than 9:30pm.
The aji de gallina and papas a la huacaina are delicious, even according to Aurora's student Meligros's standards [she is Peruvian; I hope I guessed the spelling of her name correctly!]. During mains, a number of people wander in to say hello, wander out again just as quickly. Once the main course is finished, a sort of musical chairs occurs; one guest disappears and another takes their place for dessert. The torrent of guests reappears from next door to drink and socialise [I am grateful that they speak English well and, once again, I am ashamed of my poor Spanish]. I animate when the subject turns to cork and wine at the end of the evening. It is nearly 2am when we leave.
Day 34: Wedneday, 5/03/2008. Sight-seeing and shopping downtown near Cerro Santa Lucia. Walking up Cerro Santa Lucia, a memorial and a tribute to Chilean defence, is a great way to start the afternoon. Beautiful old buildings, stone steps, a lookout across the city. An interesting find: a plaque from Charles Darwin, celebrating its fabulous view [there is also a garden dedicated to Darwin on the Cerro]. I love the library made of an old train carriage. It sits at the bottom of the hill.
The markets at Cerro Santa Lucia. Crossing the road to the markets is a much tougher feat than first reckoned. It involves walking down the street and around the corner to cross at a set of lights, then across at another set of lights, then back to the markets which were only just across the road from the entrance to the Cerro. The markets are basic but interesting and I manage to spend a couple of hours looking at the leatherwork, jewellery, lamps and copper creations.
Despite growing hunger, I drift off to sleep almost as soon as we arrive back at the apartment. My strange dream is disrupted when I am stirred for dinner. [It was a space battle over a broken freeway involving Smurfette with bunny feet and a smurf crew, a TRON/Automan hybrid (who starts out in his own spaceship, but later on he climbs into Smurfette's spaceship) and unidentified bad guys. This overseas journey is causing some sort of psychoanalytic regression, I am sure...]
We eat dinner cheaply at a traditional German Chilean restaurant that I couldn't read the name of. In spite of how it sounds, apparently it is traditional. Many Germans fled to Chile post WWII; this restaurant was est. in 1945. Pablo joins us for the meal [BTW, my sandwich de ave completo is 2,900 pesos and absolutely great!] and his friend Harvey spots us as he is passing by. I realise just how small Santiago is, which makes me think of the smallness of Perth, which makes me miss home. Two days to go!
1 comment:
Hello Darlink,
I just wanted to write and let you know that I have been following your adventures with interested. I am also glad that you seem to be feeling better despite the general late nights and frivolity. I know I sound like your mother, but you do need to take care of yourself! However, I also know that you only live once and won't be back for a while so you might as well enjoy it now! Well hard to believe that you will be home very soon indeed and I can't wait to catch up with you and see some of your photos, etc.
J.
PS. I was also very interested in the chap who was looking at photos of the vegetation. I think we need to talk more about this!
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