Long time no see! As I am writing to you, the weather here is splendid. I still cannot fully comprehend it, but it is bright, sunny, and warm in October and summer break is approaching! My mind is preparing for winter and cold Halloween's and Christmas's as every day I feel the weather becoming warmer. I am excited that summer is approaching but, on the other hand, I am speechless by how much time has gone by. I have lived here with my new family for what-is-to-become half of my exchange experience in a few weeks and I do not even want to begin thinking of how I will have to part with them. But anyway, no matter. That is a more serious subject that I can allow future Michelle to deal with.
So, I have rediscovered an old love: hiking. For the past few weekends, I have gone to multiple cerros ('hills') with family and friends. I love trekking (as the Chileans call it) up and down staircases or trails and being rewarded by the crisp air and magnificent panoramic view of the city. There, I love testing my knowledge of how much I know the city, pointing out the Costanera (the 'tallest building in Latin America,' I brag to my exchange student friends, although it really is not that tall and a part of its height comes from the metal pole on top) and the Plaza de Armas that is currently in construction. In fact, the entirety of Santiago was built by the Spanish with the Plaza de Armas as the center of the grid layout so that it could serve as a refuge to hand out arms to defenders in case of attack. Due to the same reason of Spanish conquisition, many other Latin American countries like Mexico and Peru have a Plaza de Armas in their capital cities. Even nowadays, the oldest colonial buildings and current government buildings like La Moneda Palace (the Chilean Presidential Palace) are located a few blocks from the Plaza.
In fact, the first cerro that I visited, Cerro Santa Lucia, was built to face the Plaza de Armas. I expected the typical image of a hill: many trees, dirt paths, and the like. Instead, I encountered a remarkable fusion of Spanish colonial architecture with hidden markings of current political unrest in Chile.
This was the first of many staircases to climb. The orange bus behind me is one of two colors (the other blue) that indicate different directions one may go in the city. Once I ascended the staircase with my Chilean mom, we encountered a large rectangular plaza with cobblestone flooring and a view of this massive European masterpiece with an impeccable lawn full of palm trees.
Here I am in front of the monument. We actually learned from the guide on our personal tour that the sculpture in the center is of Neptune, the Roman god, and was shipped from France around 400 years ago. It has no significance in terms of Chilean history but definitely shows the European taste of the conquistadores and their descendants who served as Santiago's governors years after.
(Above: The main plaza with the Neptune sculpture, imported from France with not much thought towards its significance, also has almost every species of palm tree.)
(Above: Valdivia who looks like Cervantes)
The other side of the hill, facing the opposite direction, is a more quiet conjunction of gardens with sculptures. The image above includes the sculpture on the right that is supposed to resemble Pedro de Valdivia, considered the conqueror of the hill and, in his mind, the rest of Santiago. We took to calling him Cervantes because, since there was not photographic evidence of his physical appearance, the scupltor created Valdivia from his imagination. In turn, Valdivia looks remarkably similar to Cervantes of the Don Quixote fame. As it was, Valdivia seems to be quite a character, from what I understand of his integral part of creating modern-day Chile (In my opinion, the ironic - and perhaps reprehensible part here - is that history for the American continent is often separated in terms of pre-colonial and colonial times, as if true well-detailed history exists only after European influence.)
(Above: One of the two forts that is now privately owned when the Chilean government was in economic duress. It nows hosts graduations and weddings, among other things.)
But I digress... The cerro was originally called 'Huelen' by the indigenous population but Valdivia conquered the hill in 1541 and renamed it "Santa Lucia" after the religious day in which he arrived in Santiago. The questionably moral origins of this name has resulted in that in this upcoming election for the government seats in Santiago, the question of maintaining the cerro's name will be voted on. Anyways, after Valdivia served as lieutenant for Pizarro en Peru in the infamous conquest of the Incan empire, he turned his eye towards Chile. Until Valdivia, Chile remained one of the only Latin American countries not yet conquered by the Spanish. Bordered by the Atacama desert (the driest in the world) in the north, the Andes mountain range towards its east, and the Pacific Ocean on all other parts, many Spanish had died trying to cross the Atacama; the Andes were not even a realistic possibility.
As it was, Valdivia seemed to have taken the fact of all these failed expeditions in stride and crossed the Atacama desert. It holds that he was only successfully able to do this because he gained the indigenous' trust, although they were rightly wary of Spanish maltreatment, and was led through the desert under their guidance. Once he reached Santiago, Valdivia founded the city with a few dozen soldiers and his mistress, the only woman of the group and apparently the first Spanish female to set foot in Chile. Valdivia then established the hill as a lookout post, established plans to build two grand forts, established himself as Chile's first royal governor, and turned his eyes towards the south of Chile where he would try and fail to conquer the Arauco Indians who would maintain their land until the late 1900s (and technically, the Indians never signed an agreement with Chile, so there remains a conflict about this). In later years, the cerro was used as a place for the aristocracy to gather and even later as an official part of the Chilean government as a mainstay of national beautification projects.
As a part of this process of beautification, when I ascended the staircase of the Neptune plaza, the first site is this archway with the Spanish royalty crest. When looked at closely, there is a marked difference between the red original brick and the duller brown of the restored pieces (pictured above).
We encountered another plaza on the next 'floor' of the cerro. It was largely a clear grid space. Below is an image of one half of the original cannon built during Valdivia's time. Recently, its base was burned during a brief violent takeover by Araucanian activists.
The same courtyard space houses two wooden sculptures built to resemble pieces that the natives built. The one on the left is an Araucanian male, while the other resembles a female. Earlier this year, there was a violent takeover by a native group and they set fire on the male sculpture to leave a political message. The male body, as a result, is almost broken in half and completely charred.
To the right of these sculptures was more staircases and the following sculpture. Note the native's choice of wear.
Does it seem odd to you? It certainly did for my mom and I. After all, in the frigid Chilean weather (even during summer nights), it does not seem logical to be wearing such scant clothing. It turns out that a Chilean man a few hundred years ago went to a university in the United States to study art. There, he made a sculpture of a North American Indian as a part of his project. This was later donated to the cerro's management. It truly goes to show how Cerro Santa Lucia is a microcosm of the macrocosmic idea that Santiago is a mix of Spanish, North American, and Chilean culture.
Finally, we ascended a series of cobble staircases (which was kind of scary until I realized that handrails exist for a reason) and reached the tiny post with a diameter of a few meters.
(You can actually see in the left corner the part of the chapel and a white sculpture of the first archbishop of Santiago on the cerro's grounds. The chapel used to be open but now serves as a private family mausoleum. Another interesting fact: The archbishop faces the Plaza de Armas.)
People often ask me why I chose to go to Chile. And with much more clarity, I think one of my answers is for it to give me another view of my own continent and self, turned upside down and on the end of the world, of course! And another reason: The view, especially the skyline. I do not think I will ever be tired of it.
