Wednesday, August 15, 2012
The 6AM Colectivo
Another Chilenismo for you - Carretear: to party. It has become a joke at my homestay that whenever I say I'm going out (Voy de carrete) - because they seem to think I do it so often - my host sister or host mom will respond, "a la iglesia, si?" To church, yes? "Por supuesto." Of course.
To carrete in Chile is no joke, though. I recently went to a birthday party where the birthday boy rented out a room in a club, booked a DJ and invited 100+ people to party well into the wee hours. It was intense. I met a friend of a friend who was nicknamed after Clumsy Smurf (in Spanish, Pitufo Tontín) and who had brought some cocaine from Santiago. Cool guy, if a bit twitchy. Not as clumsy as I would have hoped. Nor as dumb, either.
These parties can last til 5 or 6 in the morning. And THEN, there's the after - which needs not explaining. I have never made it to an after. Instead I usually peel off from the group between the party and after and find a late night colectivo home. But nighttime colectivos can get expensive. I wonder if that's why my friends go to an after in the first place. To stay up long enough to grab a micro home in the early morning. Though my friends have numerous stories of falling asleep on micros after an after and waking up in the Northern outskirts of the city.
After midnight Colectivo prices nearly triple in price. Taking advantage of the drunken masses, I suppose. Also, these prices are entirely at the discretion of the individual driver. I don't usually get in to a colectivo without asking the price and when it's 3.000 pesos for what is usually 1.500, I throw out a "salado!" (Spanish for "salty" but Chilean for "really expensive") and shut the door. They try and rip off us gringos a lot. I don't really mind. Eventually we find a decent guy who gives us a fair price. It may just take 20 minutes and 5 cars to get to that decent guy.
Other than the price issue, I really enjoy late night colectivo rides. The clientele is usually drunk and amiable. The drivers - the decent ones - are friendly and usually curious to ask the gringo about gringo things (e.g. "Why are you Antofagasta??). And I feel a real sense of accomplishment on the ride back. After having kept up with a group Chilean drinkers and smokers til 5 or 6 in the morning, then catching a cab home at a fair rate, I feel like I'm almost a genuine Antofagastan. Or at least the gringo version of one.
On the night of the aforementioned Birthday Party/Club Scene, I ended up in a cab with a young Bolivian driver. He asked me why I wanted to come to Chile. I gave my stock answer, "the culture, the history, but specifically, the music." I listed a couple of examples, "Los Bunkers, Anita Tijoux." He hadn't heard of Anita Tijoux. I turned to the back seat to ask the pretty-looking Chilean girl if she knew her. She did. I turned back around, hoping that I looked I cool to this Chilean girl I would never see again. The Gringo who knew Anita Tijoux. Then she tested my coolness, "Do you know Camila Moreno?" Who? I had her repeat the name several times so that I could cement it in my mind. I told her I'd check her out. Then we were at my street. I said my farewells and stumbled goofily out of the car.
It took me a couple of weeks but I kept the name in my head. And when I finally listened to Camila Moreno, I fell in love. She's a Chilean folk singer who screams passionately when her words and beautiful melodies can't accurately express her desperation, her love, her confusion. She is, thus far, my favorite discovery in Chile. So this my belated "gracias" to that girl - and that driver for being a decent guy and giving me a fair price.
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