It could be anywhere. The sound. The tears of the Andes plinking off the cold metal roof. Delirium sets is as my head detaches wearily from a pillow. I hear the first notes of a song cling to the wooden walls and slink up the small staircase to my shared room. I look at the time. My clock is still lost in the united states, I can only guess the hour. The past few days blurred together like the memories of a drunken night, hazy, spinning, fast. I cannot help but let the realization of where I am sets in. A summer spent in the hot sun of another state, in a town that hell itself would find unbearable, to work toward this. I feel lucky. Somehow I had managed to navigate the sea of immigration, terminals, customs, trams, trains, and busses. Though I am alone, very much so, I do not fully realize how alone I really am. The owners of the hostel Nativa saved me at the bus station. To say I was unsure of my next move would be to say that class V isn't hard. Melanie, a German National and part owner of the hostel, stepped in and figured out what the deal with my bag was, back in Santiago, and offered me a very low rate on her and Alejandro's hostel. His face flashed with a smile. "Lj!" he laughed, the motion causing his smoke defined face to show its many snaking lines "El es in Curahue."
I agreed, and explained in broken Spanish that I needed to get there eventually. Alejandro puffed on his cigarette, blew the smoke toward the green wall of mountains and laughed again. "Eto es kayak pucon." Sure enough the small storefront read the name I had only seen in pictures. I chatted with Rodrigo about a boat. I needed one, but it was proving more difficult that I thought to obtain the familiar piece of plastic. Then again, I was being picky. I wanted a Jackson, a brand that was not well known here. Alejandro and I walked back to the hostel. We turned onto the alley, wandered to either side of the street to avoid a large brown puddle, and stared down a stray barking dog. Upon forcing the ill fitting door of the hostel open, I trudge up the stared and fall onto the small bed. Sleep seems to spin into my brain, and blackness consumes my thoughts. I awake to hear the sound of a loud speaker and what seems to be an air raid siren. Am a dreaming? I did not know. Somehow I swing out of bed and managed to navigate the small stairway without falling. In the room below no one seems alarmed so I refrain from asking about he noise. Melanie and I head to the bus station, she speaks English, but her eyes betray no comprehension at some of my speech. She talks to the bus ladies about my bag, it will not get her until Monday, or Tuesday. I thank her for her help and we wander back toward the hostel. Once again my head hits my pillow. Sleep rushes into my eyes and I seemingly pass out from exhaustion. My dreams are close to reality. My eyes roll open. The window shows the darkening skies, the hours lost to sleep. I do not want to stir, but the pang of hunger forces me down the stairs once again. Melanie and the other inhabitant of this place, a French girl, offer me a dinner of rice, bread, cheese, meat, and wine. This has been the biggest meal I have eaten since the roof top party I attended only three days ago. It seems longer than that. I feel a tingle In my heart. The wish to call her. Its only been five days since it ended in the tearful phone call. The betrayal, coldness, and bewilderment still raw, just suppressed. How did someone I love change so quickly? I still missed her, but I knew that to message, email, or call her would only bring more hurt, not relief. I focused on my meal, happiness once again steeling into my heart, stemming from the kindness felt. A year, the though keeps striking me. For a year I had wanted to be here. I am here. I will kayak soon as my bag shows up and a kayak is either rented or bought. I am in no hurry. What is the point? I have three months to kayak, I will take my time, settle in, and breath the cold wet Chilean air. I have no idea what to think, except now that my stomach feels the warmth of wine, that maybe it is time for another nap.
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