The Chilean Miners

I have been following the Chilean Miners saga with keen interest. And felt a lump in my throat everytime a miner was pulled up after having survived 70 days in the hot, humid and dark bowels of the earth. I watched as President Pinera stood by his men and hugged them as they emerged from the Fenix capsule.
And felt so proud, so utterly overwhelmed on behalf of a country that I might have never visited, were I not young and naive!
12 years ago, when my husband decided to go to Chile (or Chilli as I pronounced it then) on an assignment, I was happy. Happy coz I had a six month old baby, had just executed my biggest placement deal with a MNC and wanted to travel abroad. That it meant a nine hour flight to London, then a 12 hr flight to Beunos Aires and then another 2 hours to Santiago - I had no idea. That it was in the Southern Hemisphere and therefore bitterly cold in June - I had no idea. That people spoke no English, only Spanish - I had no idea.That it was such a developed country - I had no idea.
But Chile was the best experience of my life. ‘Donde Se Dekha La Basura’ was the first Spanish sentence I learnt -I wanted to ask the conceirge where I could throw the garbage in the apartment. My best friend was the beautiful Arachelli from Spain and I don’t know how we communicated coz we did not speak each other’s language!
Chile was where my taste buds exploded - the local food - the empanadas, pollo asado and polenta were so good ; the supermarkets overflowed with delicious avocados, tomatoes , apples and oranges and I learnt that Chile was a net exporter of this produce. I learnt also that after the US, Chile was the largest consumer of sodas and sparkling water. Their sea food was amazing and we were always queasy watching the locals buy fresh mussels by the kilos, squirt them with big lemons and eat them raw! Chicken had been a johnny come lately to the country.
I learnt that Chileans were the British of South America - they were not as demonstrative as the rest of the Latinos,dressed as conservatively as the Brits and they drank tea. High tea was equally much an occasion here with delicious pastries and tarts. And ‘cortado’ - the coffee with some sort of foam was an ideal beverage at the malls. Pisco sour was a misleading drink and would have you tipsy in no time and the world had not yet discovered the wonderful Chilean wines.
I learnt also that the US was not America and that the country was nuts about football. I learnt too that Chileans were deeply religious and strict Catholics and that was the reason why there were so many teenage pregnancies that were supported by the families.
The Chileans had been removed from the rest of the world for the longest time because of the Alps.
I learnt that the invaders from Spain had inter married with the Mapuche Indians and that was why Chileans looked so different from the other Latinos. That there was still a hierarchy with the pure breds being at the top of the value chain. I learnt also that Chileans kept to themselves because of the horrors they had undergone during General Pinochet’s dictatorship . Many of their men and husbands had gone missing in the dead of the night and protests were peaceful with only a banging of utensils.
An hour out of Santiago , and depending on the direction you took, you could reach the sea or the mountains or the deserts or even , as it happened to us once, a world class ski resort (Portillo). Or even Neruda, where the Nobel laureate Pablo Neruda lived.
As I watched the Miners being rescued, my mind drifted back to the Chile I knew then, where the not so privileged simmered against Pinochet, who still had a loyal following among the rich.And I realised that this event would change many things for the Chileans - in helping them come together and forge ahead. And, how I wish I was back there in Chile to share this moment!