A haze of fatigue lingers over my mind, like a constant drip IV seeping sleepiness into my veins. I cannot say the same for the two women in the car with me; they are pumped full of adrenaline and chattering away in Spanish as they attempt to outwit the downed phone lines and achieve a few phone calls. With so many frantic people dialing up on their cell phones, the entire network is jammed and the absence of communication terrifies a host of mothers, sons, close friends, and grandfathers who cannot verify the safety of their loved ones. With a 7.2 earthquake and a tsunami on our hands, the “Welcome to Chile” sign has tumbled to the floor and steering wheels guiding us to higher ground have taken center stage. A soft bed will have to wait; we’re on tsunami alert.
Looking out over the red carpet of airport security officials, our heard of bedraggled and travel-weary passengers descended from our winged chase. This royal welcoming party, necessitated by the earthquake’s damaging effects on the terminal, sorted through us, looking for those with connecting flights and guiding us off hastily. The airport seemed normal enough, but as I came through customs, I began to note the closed shops, draped construction sheets, and distant revving of concrete saws. I would later discover that the true damage to this airport had not been structural, but rather the myriad of shattered glass panels that enclosed its entirety. I pushed my cart down the center of the road before the airport, rounded the bend, and came upon a huge tent filled with eager faces and white, lettered signs. “Ah, here awaits the throng that is fenced out of the airport.”
Well, I met up with the Santiago program director and Andy, another weary student traveler like myself, and we made our way by taxi to the bus station. Everything looked so normal that it was difficult to reconcile it with the crumpled buildings I remembered from the internet. We hauled that 53 lb box of aid through the station and off we went on a bus, headed for Viña del Mar where I would be meeting the Valparaiso program director and, then, my host family. Then everything was put into question; a woman received word of a 7.2 earthquake that had hit our destination and she started panicking over the well-being of her children, searching for them frantically in phone call after phone call. The radio came on and we craned our ears toward its warning beeps and alarm messages. The traffic in the opposite direction mounted and knapsack and backpack laden travelers appeared, treading along by foot in t-shirts and suits alike. And yet, we kept pushing forward…against the grain.
Upon our arrival in the bus station, Andy and I ran about searching for our program director (or rather, I sat with the bags and box while Andy ran about on his search mission). We were in the process of problem-solving how to get our hands on a cell phone, since a pay phone is not an option without a few Chilean pesos, when our beloved director and entourage appeared before us a half-hour after our arrival. We were so thankful! It turned out that, as they prepared to pick us up, the alarm sounded and forced them to evacuate. Against protocol, they had come back to retrieve us and carry us up the hill by car to safety. Frankly, we were all safe even on the flatland beside the coast because the water is deep enough to prevent any tsunamis from having a real effect, but when there’s any question in the matter, you play it safe.
And thus have we come full circle; little old me sat in that traffic-weary car feeling, I can only assume, one hundred times more exhausted than the vehicle. Since that moment of exhaustion in the coche, or auto as they call it here, I have been graced with the opportunity to meet my fabulous new host family, eat of their delicious food, partake of a much-needed nap, see the town, and, once again, bless my stomach with Chilean food. I can tell that this will be a wonderful semester.
Hugs and love,
Jocelyn
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