Poor Perros

I live with two dogs. One is a basset hound named Leo who is a bastard. Adorable, but still a bastard. He urinates on most walls and corners of the kitchen and living room, goes b.m. on the patio next to where I dry my clothes, barks all day long and cries and moans if he isn't showered with affection.

There is a chair placed in front of the refrigerator, which is fastened shut by a velcro strap on its door, in efforts to deter the animal from his routine rummage through the leftovers and perishable provisions placed on the lower shelves. When these tactics don't work, Leo gets a stern, "Leo...what are we going to do with you?" talk from my roommate and a pop on the bottom, which the dog shrugs off and then runs into my roommate's bed where he licks his chops for extra tomato sauce or cilantro before taking a nice nap under the blankets.

The other dog doesn't have it quite as nice as Leo. He's a stray that has chosen my street as his best option for residence. I see him either lying on the sidewalk, scampering off down an alley or trying to follow me into my house about every day.

He's lost about a quarter of his hair, sleeps in trash piles at the end of my street and can barely open his eyes or wag his tail. Sometimes I see him in the morning nursing fresh wounds from battles the night before. Lately he's been wearing a blue dog sweater that some kind soul has donated to help him get through the dreary Santiago winter.

Unfortunately, the dog needs a lot more than a sweater and he is not alone.

The stray dogs in Santiago are some of the most eminent, depressing and reverberating blemishes on the capital city's streets. Downtrodden, malnourished, limping and sick, the pooches roam parks, sidewalks, plazas and marketplaces looking for food, shelter or a scratch on the head. The big ones who've been on the block for a while (because only the strong survive) dominate their domains, while the little guys scurry off in search of neutral territory, which usually means foodless territory.

They eat scraps out of trash cans, chase cars and bark at hubcaps (maybe they've lost a friend under the crunch of a taxi's tire and are trying to get even) and plunge their noses in tourists' pockets looking for lunch.

The pups that spent the previous night fighting for their lives lick their scrapes as the overfed bulldog saunters by with a new manicure on a walk with its owner through the park. They probably think, "You wouldn't last a week out here mamón." And you know what? They're probably right.

The clean-up crews work surprisingly fast and roadkill and remains of the defeated are rarely seen on the streets. Like they're sweeping 'em under a rug before the visitors walk by.

Most people are decent human beings and either verbally acknowledge the strays, glance at them, throw them a scrap or walk by felling sorry for them. Other less-caring individuals yell, chase, smack or brush them out of the way.

Granted, some of these dogs can be trouble and I can see why a business wouldn't want a bunch of stray dogs hanging around the storefront. But that's one thing. It's another thing entirely when they are kicked with steel-toe'd boots by drunken thugs, smacked with sticks or driven out to the countryside and dropped off to fend for themselves.

Coming from a family that has a history of volunteering at the humane society, postponing appointments to stop and pick up strays and worshiping its three canine members, this kind of treatment and environment is unnerving at best.

There are ways to help, but it's not as easy to make a dent in the problem like we do back home. A group of us recently helped out at a dog shelter in Melipilla, a town about an hour away from Santiago. Surprise surprise, most dog shelters in Santiago receive little/no government funding and survive solely on donations.

The conditions were startling. About 70 dogs living in an area a bit bigger than a basketball court. There wasn't much grass and the shelters were made from scraps of wood and chicken wire. We shoveled shit, cleaned the kennels, bathed, fed and played with the dogs for an entire Sunday afternoon. It felt nice to help out, but I left feeling like we could have done more. We're planning another visit in July and hope to build some new kennels for the dogs.

Don't get me wrong, the dogs in the shelter have it a lot better than those on the streets, but there is still much work to do.

One of the main problems, similar to the case with Leo, is the people. Many get bored or frustrated with their pets and discard them like an old toy. In addition, there is no push to get people to spay/neuter their pets, the cost of such procedures is pricey, leaving most dogs fully in tact, raring and ready to litter.

There are organizations working to combat these problems, but something so ingrained in such a polarized society is not easily remedied. It takes a lot to shorten the drop off from Leo's pillow on his balcony in the sun to my stray friend's spot on the sidewalk below.

----

- Protectora de Animales San Francísco de Asís
Phone: Monica Cuevas: 765 919 60
monicuevaslara@hotmail.com

- Humane Society International: http://www.hsus.org/hsi/

- Agrupación Cultural Amor a Los Animales (ACUAA)
Esperanza 475 El Bosque
SANTIAGO, Región Metropolitana
Tel: + 56 (2) 5277 026
csprohnle@terra.cl

- Coalición por el Control Ético de la Fauna Urbana (CEFU): http://www.cefu.cl/joomla/

- Organización por la Protección y Respeto para los Animales (OPRA): www.oprachile.cl

- Somos Perritos: www.somosperritos.cl

- Teleton de los Animales Chile: http://teletonanimales.oamm.info/

Meet the Padres

June 4 is my mom's birthday and what better way to say feliz cumpleaños than to post the epic tale of my parents' week-long visit to Chile. In early April my mom (who henceforth will be referred to as "Mom") and Carlos (my stepdad, who henceforth will be referred to as "Carlos") took a break from the hustle and bustle of their busy, doggie-dominated daily lives to visit me on the other side of the world.

This was the first time I've had my parents visit me while abroad. While I've hosted visitors before (see archives) both in Chile and Japan, at various times of the year, each time has been a completely unique experience. This one was no different and definitely the most comfortable/classiest and tastiest visits of them all.

When my parents travel, the trip revolves around food and given that I've spent the past nine months starving myself, surviving mostly off of hot dogs, ham-and-cheese sandwiches and cheap beer, I was more than willing to comply with their restaurant-heavy itinerary.

They arrived at 7am on a Saturday. Lovely. Even lovelier was the fact that I'd been covering the KISS concert the night before and had been up all night finishing the article. So on no sleep, running on fumes and mate, I showed up frantic and an hour late to pick them up from the airport. When I arrived, they had just gotten through customs and I laughed at myself for forgetting that everything in Chile runs an hour behind schedule.

We had a flight scheduled to Puerto Montt that same night, so we spent the rest of the day taking in the sights of Santiago: Plaza de Armas, La Vega, Mercado Central, Lastarria. Laura (my lovely media naranja) assisted me in my tour guide duties, joined us for the rest of the trip and hit it off with the fam (yes, even with my mom; a feat that many a customer service representative have crashed and burned upon attempting).


We caught the plane that night after a much needed afternoon nap (in the filthy, piss-stained house I currently reside in) and got into Puerto Montt late and went right to bed. A big bed, with a TV in front of it and clean warm blankets on top of it. I'd forgotten how nice hotels are. It's great traveling with parents, especially when you're broke.


After multiple failed attempts at renting a car, and cursing myself for not remembering that everything is closed on Sundays in Chile, we took a cab to Puerto Varas in the late afternoon and set up camp at the luxurious Solace hotel for the next few days. Wonderful establishment. Highly recommended if you have the means and are in the area.

Puerto Varas and the lakes region was one of the most beautiful places I've seen in Chile. I realize I'm not the first person in the world to state that, but I'll reiterate it none the less. We rented a car (which we conveniently found available two doors down from our hotel) and drove around Lago Llanquihue. Stopping to eat, pick berries and apples and trespass onto beautiful somewhat vacant property.


The next day, it was time to fish. Carlos and I hit the river with our fly-fishing guide early in the morning, leaving the ladies on their own to drive around and most likely sample every type of chocolate available in the region.

We were pretty much the only boat on the river and fished the whole day. I, a novice fly-fisher, got some lessons (much more difficult than it looks, and it looks pretty difficult) and Carlos got to revisit his zen fly-fishing state. I forgot my camera, so while it would've been nice to have some pictures of the beautiful scenery, or one of those standard son/dad-holding-fish-on-a-boat shots, I'm almost glad I did. We were able to sit back and soak everything in. It was something that I'll always remember and the kind of beauty that can't be captured in photos.

That night, we ate at La Olla, a restaurant that came highly recommended and whose praise I will shout with all my mite. We ate at some excellent restaurants during this trip, but for me La Olla was the best. They specialize in sea urchin and serve mammoth-sized portions. I ordered a seafood sampler type plate that the server assured me was for one person. She must've meant one-hundred persons. I felt so bad leaving so much good food on the table.


We spent the rest of our time exploring the various lakes, waterfalls, mountains and rivers in the area and left Puerto Varas sad to be leaving, but ecstatic to have gone.

"Did they teach you to apologize at lawyer school? Cause you suck at it!"
--Brian Cox's character in Erin Brockovich
(the trademark Carlos twist)

We only had a couple of days left, so we spent the time seeing more sights in Santiago and then journeying to Valparaiso for their final day before they caught their flight home that night. We enjoyed Valpo, but it could've been better (I hate tour guides).


The general consensus was that it had been an excellent week. We ate well. Saw nature. Saw the city. Saw the ports. Went fishing. About as much as you can hope for in a one-week vacation. Mom and Carlos loved Chile and I was reminded of how lucky I am to be living in such a unique and beautiful a country; and more so, how lucky I am to have these people as parents.

State of the Gaijin: Trying, Very Trying

I've been malnourished, keeled over, sleepless, burning up and freezing for the past three days. The house I'm living in has no insulation and most of its windows are left either wide open or partially broken. The temperature inside is usually colder than outside. I've been battling a bout of food poisoning while dealing with the recent departure of Laura (my media naranja) to Winnipeg for brief trip home. I've been "sleeping" in ski pants, jackets and sweaters to fight off the cold and eating only ham-n-cheese sandwiches, bananas and medication.

Surprisingly, I woke up feeling a bit better today and looked forward to a nice sunny Saturday of sleep and recovery. Then they started drilling next door, the dog started barking and my roommates turned up the hits from the '80s on the radio. I went downstairs to make "breakfast," stepped in one of the many puddles of dog piss marking the house as "Leo's," found a mountain of dirty dishes in the sink and the refrigerator left completely ajar.

Even under clear skies it rains and it pours.

It is in this depraved state that I attempt to bridge another month-plus long blog gap. So I apologize for the cynicism, moodyness and tardiness. This is also, coincidentally, the first of these posts to be published on my Facebook page. Welcome first-time readers and fear not: not all postings are this downtrodden, self-pitying and wiry.

Now then...

My ever-lurking departure date from Chile is still up in the air, maybe more so than ever. I'm waiting to hear back from an excellent job opportunity that would keep me in Santiago, working in journalism and able to financially support myself. So as not to jinx things (which I've probably already done elsewhere) I won't delve into much detail here. I'll find out the decision this coming week and if I get it, I'll stay in Santiago indefinitely. More details to come once things have solidified (both figuratively and literally (food poisoning...get it?)). Sorry for the vagueness.

If I don't land the job, however, I'll most likely leave Chile in early June, returning home briefly to look for employment in journalism or event management elsewhere. The goal at the moment is to get a job with the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympic Games. We'll see.

On the Revolver front, the magazine continues to evolve and grow with new contributors joining the team almost every week and some of the best content the site has ever had. We've just begun a more structured weekly edition where we post (at least) five fresh articles every Monday; a big step towards a more stable publishing process. I've also taken on the role of managing the editorial process which has been educational and beneficial on multiple professional, journalistic and literary levels.

My most recent article deals with the controversial Dia del Joven Combatiente (Day of the Young Combatant) "celebrations" in Chile. It was one of the most powerful events I've witnessed down here and I encourage you to read the story here. Sadly, it is most likely one of my last articles for the magazine, due to the changes coming down the pike.

The silver lining of my current bed-ridden state is that I have discovered that ESPN360.com streams most of the NBA playoff games live and have been able to maintain some semblence of sanity by catching up on hoops. Thank you ESPN for once again proving why you are the worldwide leader in sports. How great would a Cavs-Lakers Finals be? And how are the Nuggets surviving with The Birdman and K-Mart on the same squad?

That's it for now. Posts on the way include "Mustacheando" (my painful attempt at growing and supporting a mustache) and "Meet the Padres" (my parents' week-long visit to Chile (photos currently available on Facebook)).

Happy St. Patrick's Day

Once again, after promising myself at least a post a week, I find myself making the attempt to bridge another month-long blog gap. Blog gap sounds like an ancient sea-fairer's term for some apocalyptic oceanic rift that could only occur when the planets align on the summer solstice during the...perfect storm. But, in this case, fortunately it's not.

Continuing from my previous post: Valentine's day in Chilean nature was lovely. Hiking. Swimming. Climbing. Good stuff. If you're ever in the neighborhood check it out if you're looking to get out of the city.

Here's how to get there and more info on the place:
http://www.revolver-magazine.com/travel/59-travel/234-el-refugio-tricahue.html

Since then, the past month has been spent getting back into the swing of things with Revolver, trying to figure out how long I'll be able to afford living like this (financially, physically, mentally and spiritually) and trying to enjoy the final few weeks of the Santiago summer by running from shade to shade in efforts of saving my skin from this ozone-less environment.

I also wrote an article about fine Chilean cuisine for Revolver:
http://www.revolver-magazine.com/food-and-wine/37-food-and-wine/318-completo-food.html

Working on a few more music related stories as well as getting ready for the beginning of the 2009 Dimayor hoops season. More to come...

In health-related news, a benign cyst (Cysty) on my back became infected last week and I had to get her drained at a clinic in Providencia (a nicer area of Stgo). The doctor incysted that it was a cystematic procedure and there was no need to get hysterical about the cystuation. Her acystant echoed her sentiment. Their calming efforts were in vain however, as I was dystracted by a picture on the doctor's desk of a young womanl in front of a colorful and beautiful building. "Who's that," I asked. "That's my cyster at the cysteen chapel," she responded. "Interesting," I replied. "Now what were you saying about that thing on my back?"

Happy Valentine's Day - I'm Back in Santiago

Man it's been a while. I've been back in the states for the past month visiting family and friends, petting the pooches, witnessing/celebrating my squad-leader brother's graduation from boot camp (Marines), attending my stoopid friend Mindy's wedding in Sonoma, California, pimpin the craps tables in Las Vegas (we actually purchased a hotel room this time), soaking up San Diego with the fellas from Ass To Mustache, enjoying the hell out of the Super Bowl, the spectacular food we have in the blessed estados unidos and everything else about being home.

Sister, Me, Brother, Mother

Ginger


Millie


Penny

Mindy's Wedding

The Gentlemen of "Ass To Mustache"

Now I'm back in Santiago, Chile for probably a year or so.

To begin with...Happy Valentine's Day.

I remember how confusing it was around this time of year back in Japan. Out there on The Island, the tradition is for the girls to get the guys gifts on Feb. 14. A month later, on March 14, they have a holiday called White Day when it's the guys' turn to pamper the gals. A year ago, Valentine's day involved me going to great lengths and eventually making an ass out of myself for my Japanese sweetheart. It involved a song, a guitar, a poorly prepared dinner and mucho awkwardness.

A year later (today), in Chile, I'm happy to not have to sift through too many gravelly cultural differences and am taking my special lady (who's surprisingly not Chilean) on a trip a few hours outside of the city to a natural forest near Talca. A friend at Revolver wrote about the place a while ago and it looked cool. Looking forward to seeing some nature and more of the country. I've lived here for six months and have barely left Santiago...so this trip comes at a good time.

Leaving early tomorrow morning. I'll let you know how it goes.

Good to be back.

Merry New Year

Not surprisingly going out, dancing and getting hammered are well-practiced Chilean customs on New Year's Eve. I would have felt silly not partaking in them, so I partook. Actually, I felt silly anyways. I guess I always feel silly. Maybe I'm just silly by trade - or nature - or both. I'm just being silly. There I go again (being silly). Ok, I'm done. Not done being silly though.

The've got some other interesting/weird/silly traditions as well:
http://www.revolver-magazine.com/arts-and-culture/46-symphony-and-orchestra/229-a-gringos-guide-to-new-years-in-chile.html

We had a party at my house. Since my roomate's friends are all chefs, they rolled through with a ton of fish and we grilled it and ate like kings (It's tough living in this place sometimes - they're always cooking and giving good food away. I feel kind of intimidated when I try to cook though - they're making all this gourmet crap that I've never heard of and I'm at the end of the counter boiling pasta and frying broccoli). My friends brought the booze.

Also, just posted the first article of the new year - on one of the coolest bands in Chile: Juana Fe. Check it out:
http://www.revolver-magazine.com/live-music-scene/34-live-music-scene/238-youve-got-a-friend-in-juana-fe.html

All in all a good start to 2009.

I'm going back to the blessed United States of America January 13 for my stoopid friend Mindy's wedding taking place in Northern California January 17 and my Marine brother's graduation from boot camp in Southern California January 21.

I can't wait to see everyone, be home and eat mexican food.

Don't worry Chileans - I'll be back in Santiago in early February.

Happy Festivus - I Got Robbed

Funny thing happened the other night. Me and Matt (a buddy from Revolver) went out last Tuesday to catch a couple shows and drink some beer. On our way out to Bellavista (a cheap, college-y, somewhat Bohemian area in Santiago) we noticed a pile of trash on the sidewalk that contained a few potentially useful items. We agreed that if the loot was there on the way home at the end of the night, then we'd snag it.

So we forged ahead for a night of cheap beer, good music, bad food and the usual debauchery that comes with a late night in Bellavista. When we called it quits, we walked back only to find that the trash treasure had been rummaged through and the nightstand Matt had had his eye on was gone. We did some more digging and I uncovered a wallet. It was empty, black, velcro - nothing remarkable. I put the wallet in my back pocket, because I have a tendency to pick up strange stuff when I've got a buzz on (like crabs...just kidding...bad joke). I figured the empty wallet in my back pockett would be, at the very least a decoy for my treks through the shadier jungles of Santiago.

I grabbed my backpack (which contained my laptop) from Matt's place and set off for home - which is about a 15 minute walk down Parque Bustamante - a nice park, but pretty sketchy at night. Normally when I'm out that late with my laptop, I take a cab, but none of them were stopping, so I forged ahead, angry and ready to run at a moment's notice (I've found that the more pissed-off you look when walking alone at night, the less likely people are to jack you; kind of like when George Costanza pretended to be stressed and angry all the time at the office so people would avoid asking him questions and think he was working hard).

One of the charming characteristics to Parque Bustamente is the presence of multiple sects of "working women" (prostitutes) that gather on three to four street corners late at night along my walk home. It's usually nothing threatening and they've rarely said much during past journeys. Not tonight.

I made it past the first group of 'em with no problem, but the second pack livened up at the sight of me, whistling and clicking at the fresh meat (yo). I tried to hurry past, but one worker bee latched on to my arm, begging me for something, rubbing me provactively and strolling with me for five to nine paces. I squirmed out of her clutches said, "No gracias," and looked around to make sure there wasn't anybody about to jump out of a bush with a tire iron or worse.

The coast seemed clear, and I proceeded to check my pockets and backpack to make sure everything was in place. All appeared to be in order, except...

the decoy wallet in my back pocket was gone. Goddamit. Didn't last five minutes.

I turned around to see if I could catch a glimpse of their facial expressions when they realized they made off with an empty wallet, but saw no one and wasn't about to go back. I laughed out loud the rest of the walk home, chalked up a point for myself on the big board and made a note to try and obtain decoys for everything I own.