Lists - People

We have just a few days left, and I thought it might be interesting - for you, the loyal readers, and for me - to provide something in the way of a recap. There are lots of little things that neither Dylan or I have mentioned in our posts, and some things that we have mentioned are worth repeating for emphasis. I've decided that the best way to accomplish this recap is to compile lists for several different subjects. These aren't necessarily favorites, per se, just standouts in one way or another. List subject requests are encouraged but may well be ignored.

We'll start with our top five people. One of the most interesting things about traveling is who you meet along the way. Locals, fellow backpackers, hostel employees, waiters and waitresses, etc. Some of these people are fantastic. Some are forgettable. Others are memorably unpleasant. I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce you to some of the most notable people we've met along the way. For lack of a better way of doing it and for fear of messing up the formatting again, they will be presented in no order whatsoever.

1. Gerald (Buenos Aires, Argentina) - Oh, Gerald. We met Gerald (who's named Gerald, anyway?) courtesy of Alex. During our second stint in B.A., we went down to our favorite café down the block from Hostel Estoril. Alex was convinced that he knew the guy sitting at the table next to ours. I didn't really care to explore the subject, as the guy was sitting by himself, looking incredibly socially awkward with as many pimples as he had strands of frumpy hair, and, basically, like his name might be Gerald or something. After about 20 minutes, Alex and Gerald finally met eyes and went through the awkward "How do I know you?" conversation for 30 seconds until they realized they had come down on the same United flight. Gerald invited himself over to our table, and proceeded to start talking about taxes. I spent the next 20 minutes looking out the window. Having apparently changed topics, he mentioned that he was staying with a family while in Argentina to learn Spanish. He said that the first night he got to B.A., he sat down for dinner and said "What... I come all the way to South America and there's no Mexican food?" Then he said, quite triumphantly, "And then the next night, there were TACOS!" I excused myself to the restroom for another 20 minutes. When I returned, he was talking about his vision for the future of American transportation infrastructure, namely that we should have computerized roads that allow cars to go through intersections at 80 miles per hour in both directions simultaneously. With Dylan and I having completely abandoned the conversation in favor of staring blankly at our banana shakes, Gerald finally ran out of things to bore Alex with and promptly left as awkwardly as he came. Gerald looked like this:

2. Kelsey (Buenos Aires, AR and Santiago, CH) - You've already been introduced to Kelsey on more than one occasion. Also, she reads this blog and so I have to be careful not to give her any undue ammunition. I'll be brief. Though we met dozens of people at the many hostels we've stayed at over the last two months, we really only made one friend, and that's Kelsey. Initially known only as the cute American girl who was camping out in the TV room at Hostel Estoril in B.A. with funny-looking socks, we got to know Kelsey better thanks to a classic pub crawl, a terribly tacky tango show, and a ridiculous bet over the quality and variety of Chilean cuisine which she ultimately lost. She's funny, smart, a good writer and altogether excellent company and we're already looking forward to her making good on her promise to come visit us in DC. Kelsey looks like this when she's in a desert:

3. Gaspar/Maria/Ignacio/Fidel (Mendoza, AR; La Serena, CH; Salta, AR; Puno, PE) - Of the many, many hostel owners and employees who we've met, these are our favorites.

• Gaspar, from Mendoza, was very nice and was the first local person we met who really spoke English fluently, which immediately endeared him to us, since we were already exhausted by the constant Spanish barely over two weeks into the trip. The defining moment for Gaspar, however, came when Dylan came out of our private bathroom which, like our bedroom, was upstairs from the rest of the hostel, to find Gaspar very purposefully standing halfway up the stairs to our room, peering up at him. Suddenly appearing startled, Gaspar then said, "Ah! Now that I've met you here by coincidence, would you like to come to a party tonight?" (emphasis in original).


• Maria, from La Serena, was easily the most adorable hostel owner. She is notable for becoming a very grandmotherly figure to us. She happily washed our dinner dishes, insisted on giving us fresh, delicious papaya juice after we initially politely refused, and came to understand my love for apples to the point that she would bring over a freshly-washed apple along with my morning coffee as soon as she saw I was awake.


• Ignacio, from Salta, is less remarkable than the others. He mainly earned his spot on this list for preparing, on demand and at the location of our choosing, a delicious breakfast for us every morning of our stay in Salta. Together with his wife, Pilar, he made our stay in Salta feel very much like a stay at home.


• Fidel, from Puno, easily tops the list in terms of hospitality. You'll remember him as the man who spent the better part of his entire night as our de facto travel agent and advisor without any obligation whatsoever. At the end of the night, when we thanked him again, he said, roughly translated, "If I came to your country, not knowing your language or your customs or how to do what I wanted to do, I know that someone would help me. Especially for those of us in the hospitality business, but also for Peruvians in general, we feel it is our job to help foreigners who have come to visit us." If any one person embodies the fundamental decency of nearly every South American we've met, it's Fidel. Incidentally, Fidel may not be his actual name.

4. The Amazing Snorer (Bus from San Pedro, Chile to Salta, Argentina) - I think I've pretty much said everything there is to say on this guy. The only thing I'll add is that he has come to represent every bus trip we've taken on this trip, and all of those bus trips have been as much a part of our experience as every cathedral, museum, and meal combined. From the original post:

Third, one of our fellow passengers snored for the entire ride, save for the 20 minutes he managed to keep himself awake in order to stuff more food into his fat, moustachioed face. This man's snoring was the stuff of legends. Have you ever heard someone snore for 15 hours straight? It wasn't even consistent. Sometimes it would be low-pitched and evenly paced. Other times, it was so chaotic, you thought he might actually be choking, not snoring. Still other times, it was just inconceivably fast. It varied not only in pace, but also in volume. I believe his max range was 12 rows. And then, of course, the occasional mini-finale, in which he would wake up momentarily in order to triumphantly dislodge all the phlegm and God-knows-what-else from his various facial orifices into his sleeve, or the seat ahead of him if he didn't have the time or energy to pull his arm up. I spent a fair amount of time making noises to mimic him, and asked Dylan if my noises were better or worse than the man's. He said better. The man looked like this:

5. Dogs (Everywhere) - Possibly the most unexpected part of the trip has been the sheer volume of stray dogs that have been everywhere we've been, including twice as adopted guests in our hostels. This omnipresence has created hazards, most notably the infamous dog attack in Maipù but also in the form of piles - often unbelievable mountains - of fresh dog poop on the sidewalks (from which I have saved Dylan no fewer than three times). It has also created entertainment, as when Dylan and I stood on a street corner in the freezing cold of Valparaiso with two British girls watching a growing gang of miscreant strays get their fill on chasing, biting, and just plain staring down cars in the middle of an insanely busy intersection; or any of the many times when the two of us have imagined that various passing dogs who look particularly purposeful are not just dogs, but are, in fact, mayors, security officers, and all manner of other administrative personnel.

Most remarkable to me, though, is the extent to which the dogs have appeared to have become more like citizens than simple strays. With the exception of the dogs in Valpo, which might be thought of as canine hoodlums, they all obey traffic laws and only cross the street when the crosswalk light says to. They enter stores, have regular hangouts and friends, and are treated with arguably more respect by most locals than are the beggars, old and young, who line many streets and alleys. Dylan even thinks that the dogs have reflected the various traits peculiar to their respective countries, though I think his imagination may go too far (though he should feel free to explain himself in a comment).

Alright, so that wasn't quite limited to individuals (or humans, for that matter) the way I had initially intended. But I think you get the idea.