This was meant to be a post on Spring! And how Spring seems to be coming! And pretty blossom! Because today is officially September 1^st and we have, as they say here, pasado agosto (gotten through August), the worst month of the winter, successfully. But no. Today I’ve been feeling rather wintery. My asthma problems that we thought would be solved once we moved out of mould are back and I’m feeling generally crappy for general non-specific winteryness reasons as well. So, today I made myself go to the doctor’s.

On one hand, healthcare for us here is really efficient. We have an ISAPRE, which is sort of like private health insurance. If you see a doctor, you go straight to a specialist. Which can be baffling, as whom do you go to if you have the flu, for example? But the clinicas, in our limited experience, are clean and a bit nicer than the ones at home, and we’ve heard treatment is good.

Today, I walked into a clinic a few streets away and got an appointment within 45 minutes to see a bronco pulmonar (respiratory specialist).  Which was all fine and useful, apart being asked the usual annoying stuff like a) do you dry your hair after you wash it? (not doing so is seen as pretty life-threatening here) b) you do know that your Flixotide is a preventative inhaler, right?  And c) let me write your prescription in English for you, but just the bit about taking things at bedtime. All very useful up until I took the prescription for my inhaler (my stash from the UK is running low) and new anti-allergy stuff to the pharmacy.

Where I had to pay $32,000 CLP (£40) for my Flixotide inhaler.

Where they charged me $12,000 CLP (£15) for a nasal spray.

And wanted $53,000 CLP (£65) for some tablets, or maybe $32,000 CLP (£40) for the cheaper generic version.

This was not for bulk quantities. Just a month’s worth of prescriptions.

So, looks like it’s going to cost me around $100,000 CLP or £125 per month to have asthma. On top of our insurance, which costs around $90,000 CLP for both of us (I’m the expensive one, as I have a uterus. See further rant about this here, from another expat).

The question is: how on earth can anyone afford to have a relatively minor medical problem like my not particularly serious asthma? I don’t earn very much, a fraction of what I did in the UK, but I earn more than the average salary here. I guess I will be going back, probably to another doctor, to ask that they change my meds to cheaper ones.  And I will be attempting to make use of the little discount we get with our ISAPRE for going to one particular pharmacy chain.

Oh NHS, how I now appreciate you, with your £6.50 flat charge for any prescription,  with the option of buying a pre-payment certificate which allowed you to have as many prescriptions as you needed in a set time period… OK, the NHS is really really bad on waiting times – the trouble I went through in London to get a simple GP appointment,  and the delay patients face on tests and scans, really important ones at that, is ridiculous to the point of being dangerous in some cases. Not to mention the postcode lottery on your treatment and whether your local trust will pay for particular new but expensive drugs. But I’m beginning to see that healthcare here isn’t as straightforward as I’d thought. And of course, I have no experience of the public healthcare system. And I haven’t been ill enough to have to take a day off yet, which is lucky as I don’t have the right to sick leave. Yep, that’s right. No sick leave.

And here we shall leave this topic. This post has been cathartic, but I guess I took a lot of things for granted at home. Things that I thought were pretty basic.

So, today marks six months since our arrival in Chile! Seems like a very long time. So much has happened. When we arrived, I didn’t have a job. Now we both have work that we enjoy a lot. We’ve battled with various forms of bureaucracy (and won on most counts: for example, Stu has a bank account, which is a pretty big accomplishment). We’ve made some lovely friends. Our Spanish is a lot better in that we’ve tuned into the Chilean accent and can understand 90% of what’s going on, even if we feel more than a little inarticulate most of the time. We’ve travelled a bit and can’t wait to travel more. We’ve discovered amazing new ingredients (and missed old ones). We’ve moved flats, twice, and accumulated stuff, like plants and pictures and washing machines, I guess as we were inevitably going to do. And, of course, there was the earthquake, as well.

Yet, although it seems like we’ve been in Chile a long time, and I feel at home here now, I can now see the absolute truth in what our Spanish teacher told us before we left: that it takes a full year to feel completely settled in a new country. At first I thought a year was a long time, but now I understand, especially when I look at other expats living here, and how their lives are so much more embedded. We’re still getting the hang of how some things work, particularly culturally. And working on our Spanish is really important. We just haven’t been able to get a good teacher here, and sometimes the motivation to do grammar exercises, or learn vocabulary is lacking because we’re both busy with work, which we do in an almost all-English environment.

Excuses, excuses, I know. And while we’re on that subject, I’d like to apologise for not writing on here very much. The last couple of months we spent a lot of time trying to sort out our housing problem, and the last thing I wanted was to winge online about damp and mould and sleeping on the floor. And I’m not really into blogging to accumulate hits and analyse stats: it’s more about keeping a record of our time here and keeping in touch. Albeit slowly and irregularly. And if anyone we don’t know in person happens to find interest here, then you’re welcome. I was thinking of showing the Internet the mouldiness of our former place as it was quite a spectacle, but instead, have a lovely Viña sunset, which sums up our time here so far in a much better way:

Much, much better! Nothing like a sunset stroll on the beach.

So, to summarise: we like it here. Chile can be hard work sometimes. Of course it is. I don’t think moving to another country is ever going to be easy. Stu’s been back in the UK and is bringing me back a lot of the things I miss: Green and Black’s, books, curry ingredients, an oven thermometer so I can tame the new oven, which only has three heat settings: big flame, medium flame and little flame. It’s a shame he can’t bring me family and friends, because I miss them so so much. But I know that equally, when we eventually leave Chile, it’ll be so so hard to say goodbye to people here, and there’ll be things like food that it’ll be hard to be without whereever we are next. So here’s to the next six months!

Am in need of some light relief after a looong day at work, and some not so lovely flat hunting (more about that another time). So what better way to break the blogging silence with some pictures of lovely food?

Before we get to the lovely bit, let’s have a look at the much-discussed Chilean classic, the completo. A hot dog with tomato, mayo and smothered in mayo. Yum.

Cross-section of a completo. Not the best photo, but it's sort of tricky when you've got one of those in the other hand...

It tastes a lot better than it looks, although Anthony Bourdain was defeated by one when he came to Chile. They are actually really quite nice, if you scrape most of the mayo off. And ignore the frankfurter.

But what about ‘proper’ food? The consensus here amongst expats is that while dishes in restaurants are can be* pretty bland and over-salted and unexciting, the fresh ingredients are awesome: good quality and pretty darn cheap by UK standards. And so they are. Hence why each complete comes with such a copious layer of avocado. Every Saturday, Stu and I go to the source of such goodness, the feria (market), and haul back half our bodyweight in fruit and veg and sometimes flowers:

Goats’ cheese, oranges, carrots, basil, coriander, strawberries, aubergines, peppers, chilli peppers, honey, figs, limes, lemons, avocadoes, a cucumber, garlic, spinach, porotos granados (beans), spring onions, zapallo (squash), tomatoes and bananas. Not much, then.

It’s now a Saturday ritual. We’ve started to get recognised by caseros (stall holders) and have some regular stalls now. And if we don’t go, either because we still have loads of food left over, or because we’re away, I miss it. Although there’s some imported stuff, we’re a lot more in touch with the seasons here, which is great – I discovered membrillo (quinces) but also frustrating (we can’t buy basil at the moment to make pesto). I love discovering new produce that I’ve never cooked with before:

Stripey aubergine, broad beans, feijoa (a fruit that tastes unfortunately like a synthetic air freshener, damn you airfreshners for upsetting my taste of fruit).

I think we’re eating a lot healthier than we were in the UK due to planning our meals around feria produce. In fact, we’ve both lost weight since we’ve been in Chile (which is a pain, as how on earth am I going to find new work trousers that’ll fit?). Although I do think the weight loss is probably really down to the almost complete lack of good cheese and good chocolate, but that’s a moan for another day.

Our home cooking isn’t all healthy healthy healthy, though. Current addiction: lemon curd. So easy and so cheap to make when lemons are about 70p per kilo:

Mmmmmm.....

We go through one of these jars a week. Makes up for peanut butter being expensive. And lemon curd is soooo good with meringues and hand-whipped cream in a parfait courtesy of Nigel Slater (who is just known as Nigel around here, and whom I would love to adopt as an honorary uncle. How cool would that be?)

Parfait. And in the background, our wall mosaic, a la Color Me Katie.

So, in short, Chile is good for us. We’re becoming better cooks, and eating more healthily. OK, apart from the completos. And lomitos. And barros lucos. We’ll talk more about fast food another day.

Long time, no post! We’ve been quite busy. Ha! Never thought I’d say that – moving to Chile was partly about being a little less busy. Anyway, we’re settling into the routine of living here, and of autumn. Which isn’t entirely dull, but also isn’t that exciting – it involves all the usual stuff like falling leaves and conkers, plus more than occasionally Pacifically foggy mornings, some quite hot afternoons, some slightly chilly evenings, and blankets.. Oh, and colds and stomach bugs. We’ve been away for the last couple of weekends, so we’re actually looking forward to a weekend at home, with a Saturday trip to the feria, and then pottering around getting the flat ready for winter. You see, our flat is pretty modern, but it doesn’t have central heating. Because Chile isn’t cold. Apparently. We thought it had double glazing, but it’s not double glazing as we knew it. And while the sun streams in in the mornings, we’ve come to realise that autumn mornings = chilly fog. So we’re going to look for heating solutions (probably electric as anything gas/kerosene based just sounds downright dangerous) and I may even make some draught excluders and commission some ultra-thick curtains. Bizarrely, the curtains in the living room are there for decoration – they don’t actually cover much window, which is pretty comical!

Our trips away the last couple of weekends  were awesome. It was great to get out of town and into the country and see some other bits of Chile (and Argentina!). I’ll write about them sometime soon, but for the moment, here are some photos from a trip to Parque La Campaña a few weeks ago. Which is our nearest National Park and is accessible by public transport (metro to Limache, and then a bus to the park). Have I mentioned about how I’m loving letting blogs be our travel guide? We did a bit of research here, here and here before we went, and they helped so much. The only thing I’d add, is that the bus we got was both a 45 AND a 1. Confusing?

Anyway, we didn’t walk up to the summit of the highest peak, Cerro la Campana, as we didn’t get there in time. And it was pretty hot. However, there are shorter trails, and the park was pretty darn stunning anyway:

Have I mentioned how excited I still am about living in a country where cacti grow wild?

And on the way back, there was a cute dog who insisted on sitting in the road, waiting for the bus driver (she was having a nap).

We’ll definitely be going back to try the summit!

Longish time, no post! Things here have been quieter, which is very welcome. We’ve been settling into some sort of routine. Struggling with the early starts, though. We’re up for sunrise every day, which is often pretty, but not a bit much 5 days per week. Perhaps when the clocks go back it’ll be easier.

We’re still having tremors, but not many. Perhaps one  that we actually notice every few days. There was one during a meeting the other day. The door was opened (just in case), but everyone carried on as normal.

There’s been talk about the possibility of another big one, though. This time further up the plate, towards us. Fingers crossed it doesn’t happen. Surely we’ve had enough for another twenty-five or so years? There’s no point living in fear, but we are better prepared than we were before.  Although we still need to get round to buying a torch and a radio. Something for the weekend.

Anyway, we’ve had some good distractions from earth movement and bureaucracy (which is still causing headaches). My cousin and her friends, who are backpacking, became our first visitors last week, which was awesome.

And there are pelicans just up the coast from us:

They loiter outside the fish restaurants, waiting for a snack. The avian version of the chip shop street dog. How cool is that? More exploring to come this weekend.

…A whole-Chile power cut.

OK, well, whole-Chile is a little bit of an exaggeration. It was only all the way from the Atacama down to Chiloe, so actually *only* 90% of the population. That’s still pretty darn impressive. Only Patagonia really escaped.

When the lights went out, we assumed it was just Viña, but when the concierge rang and told us to unplug everything in case there was a power surge, he also told us it was national. Which we just couldn’t believe – how could the whole country go off? Anyway, we did the usual emergency thing – fill a bottle and part-fill the bath just in case the water pump was to go off, find a candle, thank lucky stars I have a torch on my phone, curse ourselves yet again for not buying the wind-up torch we were looking at in Sodimac two days before the quake but didn’t get because it was more expensive than at home..

Anyway, the whole thing wasn’t in the least panic-inducing for us. I was in the middle of cooking dinner when it happened, so I carried merrily on – yay for gas. We had an impromptu candlelit dinner, looked at the stars, and played around with the long exposure on my camera, taking pretty pictures:

Traffic

Flowers in candlelight (I got a bit too flower happy at the feria this week, we have three vases full...)

And then the power came back on after about two hours. So, once again, we were lucky. I can’t imagine how it would have been for those in the most earthquake-damaged areas, though. And our local paper, El Mercurio de Valparaiso, has an article and photos of some poor people who had to be rescued from an ascensor, which got stuck half way up the hill when the power went out. (Ascensors, you will recall, are century-old glorified sheds on tracks and are a little adrenaline-inducing anyway. And that one is on a very big hill. Photo here of it [and of Stu’s hands]).

So why did it happen? Apparently, a transformer further South went down, taking pretty much the whole grid with it. Tyfannie explains it well. Earthquake damage may to be blame for the fragile state of the transformer. And the grid may be a bit unstable for the next week or so. So plenty more little dramas to come. I am so regretting the name of this blog now. Bad choice.

We had our biggest aftershock* so far earlier today. We had been getting used to them – apparantly, I slept through one last night (unless Stu dreamed it), and as we feel pretty safe in our building, we are managing not to get too stressed by them.

This time, however, we were in Valpo. Not at Pinera’s inauguration ceremony, which was so rudely interrupted by a 7.2, but up in the Extranjeria on the 15th floor, starting my visa application process. After waiting nearly two and a half hours, we were finally with the visa lady. The quake was quite long, and stronger but usual, but no panic – we were finally with the visa lady! We weren’t about to run out the door! (Never mind that the whole visa thing is now even more of a mess, but that’s for another time).

OK, that was another one. Quite strong.. Still going…

Anyway, back to writing.

On our not-intentionally-evacuating way out, stairs just in case, there were a few signs of panic, though. Some people still in the visa waiting room left too. And then there was another one. Off the stairs, into a doorway, just in case. A worker crying, hugging. Another telling colleagues to get out. As we got further down, the stairway traffic got heavier, including someone who pushed in front only to walk reeealllly slooooowwwlly.

Outside, everyone was running for the hills. Literally. Some pictures here  from our local paper. We made for Cerros Concepcion/Allegre (the nearest, and also prettiest, most historic and therefore most visited hills). Even the bomberos (firemen) were driving up, which was a little unsettling…I guess you need to understand that after the 8.8, there were no tsunami warnings, or even that the risk of a tsunami was denied. And then the tsunamis came, and most of the lives lost in the earthquake were taken by them. So everyone is a little on edge at the moment.

We’d never seen so many people up there. It was insane. All we wanted to do, after a rubbish extranjeria visit, was find a cafe and sit. Most places were shut, though – probably a combination of earthquake damage, not to buildings, but to tourism. And places afraid of being overrun by panicked people, or even looted.  We spoke to some German backpackers, who were really upset as they’d been on the way to catch a bus to the airport, and their flight was in four hours. Someone shouted out of a window that the USGS, my currently most visited site, was not warning of a tsunami, but no-one really knew what was going on. The bomberos weren’t informed. Everywhere, people were clustered around car radios and trying to make phone calls. Lots of people congregated in places with a good view of the sea. It was eerily flat and calm and not obviously receding. Boats were repositioning themselves, though. We eventually found a restaurant that was letting people in, and had lunch, resigned to not being able to get in touch with the friends we were due to be meeting – no phone signal, networks down.

A post-lunch wander, then we decided to chance the bus ride back to Vina. The bomberos advised us that ONEMI still had a tsunami warning on for the next four hours, but that we could get a bus, just that we should get out and run for the hills if the sea went back! Very reassuring. The streets were quiet, but not deserted. No trolleybuses, and only a very few micros.  When we got on, the driver told us to hurry up! In an urgent tone! And then, not wanting to miss any fares, picked up more and more passengers until the bus was totally crammed full.  Every time we went round a corner on the bendy coastal road, the axle groaned. It occurred to me that a packed micro was not the place we wanted to be if a tsunami did strike. We were near the door, but not that near the door…

Anyway, we obviously made it home safe and sound. There were carabineros on every corner, and walking uphill, we were passed by a convoy of posh cars with police motorcyclists on the walk home. The man himself? Or some panicked presidents of elsewhere running for the hills? (The photos on that link are amusing but probably shouldn’t be. Of course you look at a ceiling in the middle of a quake! You want to check it’s not coming down!).

We got home to no lifts (the second one had just been fixed yesterday), and also no water. OK, the no water isn’t that extraordinary as we’re in the middle of a 72 hour cut, but apparantly, there’s now another cracked pipe and a bit of flooding downstairs. Which means we’ll need to go to the tank down the road rather than using some from the three short slots a day when the building’s backup supply was being released. A slight inconvenience, when we think of how other parts of the country are doing.

*Are they still aftershocks now? Especially because this one was on a different bit of plate…

The Teleton Chile ayuda a Chile came to its climax on Saturday night. In the end, it raised over $30 billion pesos, double the original target! That’s about £40 million. Astounding. Particularly when you consider that three-quarters of the country live in the areas affected by the earthquake. The target amount was met by about 9.20, about 2 hours from the end. It seems, roughly, that the first $15 billion was raised by individuals and smaller companies, and then was matched by larger companies.

Here’s the final few minutes of the Teleton. The first minute and a half is Don Francisco summing up, accompanied by the obligatory piano music. Then, around the 2 minute mark, the final amount raised is shown and there’s even a Pinera-Bachelet* hug (hmm, can’t imagine British politicians having a hug – Cameron and Brown? Ugh). Then from 3 minutes the national anthem plus much flag waving. And a replay of the Pinera-Bachelet hug.

After the Teleton celebrations, a three-day period of national mourning started yesterday, which, as far as we can work out, means that everyone is flying the Chilean flag half-mast. We’ve been playing ‘count the flags’. 16 flags from our balcony, and double that on our way down to the sea yesterday.  Businesses are staying open because they need to stay open.

Meanwhile, the aftershocks keep coming (just had one as we write). We’ve had quite a few centred out to sea off Valparaiso over the weekend, around 5 on the Richter scale, so not big. The closest was about 5 miles away. I think we’ve got more used to them, but it would be nice if they stopped.

I’ll leave you with a brief round-up of some of the best blogging about the earthquake this week (I’m sure I’ve forgotten some):

Margaret of Cachando Chile reports on damage from Barrio  Yungay in Santiago.

A geologist explains the earthquake and gives tips on how to be better prepared for the next one

Matt of Colchaguino updates on the wine harvest situation and local initiatives in Santa Cruz to help a badly affected village

And allchile.net madcap plan to fly a plane with doctors and aid to areas still cut off after the earthquake is off the ground and in the air. There’s a whole fleet of planes now. You’d need to be a forum member to see the photos, unfortunately.Donations are being taken still, I think by Western Union if you’re outside Chile. Other ways are being looked for.

*Michelle Bachelet is the outgoing Socialist President, who had a popularity rating of 80% before the election. (She couldn’t stand – you can’t run for two consecutive terms). Sebastian Pinera is the President-elect, who will be inaugurated this week. He’s a billionaire who does/did (can’t remember whether he gave up his shares) part-own LAN Chile and Chilevision, a TV station. He will be the first right-ringer in power since Pinochet.

Last night, the 2010 Teleton, Chile ayuda a Chile (Chile helping Chile) started. The target is to raise $15 billion pesos (about £18 million), primarily to build emergency housing for tens of thousands of families left homeless by the earthquake. Imagine Children in Need or Comic Relief, but for 26 hours non-stop (OK, apart from some ad breaks, from which I hope the networks are donating the proceeds). It’s hosted by Mario Kreutzberger, aka Don Francisco, who is the Chilean Terry Wogan, in age, stature, and in the way neither of them don’t enunciate very well. Fortunately, Don Francisco doesn’t speak too fast, so we have a some hope of understanding him.

The big difference, though, is the proud patriotism. Coming from the UK, I’ve never experienced much of that.  Here in Vina, buses and cars are painted with messages supporting the Teleton. Everywhere is flying the Chilean flag (we didn’t even know our building had a flagpole until the concierge raised the flag last night). Everyone who is anyone takes part. We’re talking the President, the President Elect, Ban Ki Moon, who’s visiting… and countless B, C and Z list celebs who we can’t name yet, beyond ‘oh, that’s the bloke out of the Ripley ads… he can sing?’  Apart from Ivan Zamorano, who is a footballer (guess who recognised him). Everyone on stage is dressed in red, white and blue, and Don Francisco leads the audience singing rousing songs like “vamos, vamos Chilenos!”, and the chanting of the account number to make donations (2702, which is, of course, the date of the quake). I can’t imagine Terry Wogan being so enthusiastic about a singalong. Even Bachelet and Pinera were joining in last night.  There’s also a ‘bank’ on stage, with a machine that Don Francisco can’t work very well.

The other side of the cheesiness is the tear-jerking stuff. Piano music is played every time a victim speaks, or footage of devastated communities is shown. To be honest, it’s pretty unnecessary. The words and images speak for themselves.

Anyway, it’s all, very, very impressive. I couldn’t quite imagine this level of patriotism going on at home. All the important politicians made speeches last night and also made donations. They also got the guy from ‘the’ photo of the quake into the studio:

The target of $15,000,000,000 CLP is a lot for Chile. At the time of writing, the Telethon is almost two-thirds there. There are probably 16 million people in the country, and the average monthly wage is about $300,000 CLP.  The first donation last night was made by a navy sailor who they showed sailing aid from Valparaiso to his family’s village, which had been struck by the tsunami. They showed him going home to his family. They got him into the studio as well to make his donation, which was $20,000 CLP or about £30 – a very generous proportion of his income.

There are other extremely impressive fundraising campaigns going on as well at the moment. The most jaw-dropping is allchile.net’s plan to fly a small plane carrying doctors, medical supplies and aid into areas which are still cut off by road. And it’s going – as I write, the doctors have been picked up, recon is going on… The owner of allchile.net, Charles Spencer, has co-ordinated it all, and is taking donations for fuel. There was a hiccup with PayPal, who wouldn’t release the funds people had paid in, but I think he’s found a way round it now. Click here for more info, including live flight plans.

There are also some other laudable and inventive fundraising initiatives going: Kyle Hepp, who is an American photographer based in Santiago, is selling prints of her some of her best shots, and Tyffanie is selling some of her husband’s prints of Chile too.

I haven’t taken many photos of earthquake damage here. Particularly not on Saturday, when it would have felt a bit ghoulish.

Here are a few from today, though, so you can see how lucky Vina has been:

This posh beachfront bar had opened only a month ago but has lost most of its glass frontage

The beach was eerily quiet - it's usually packed. But some normality - there's a cruise ship anchored offshore.

The first building we've seen that's close to collapse...

You might not be able to tell so from this photo, but this apartment block is listing quite drastically to one side...

But there's nothing that says normality like a street dog taking a nap under the boardwalk...