"When you see..."

One week from this morning, I'll awaken to sunrise over la Cordillera, the Andes. Landing at 8:30 am, I'll re-awaken old memories of 1970. As exciting as the trip has become, it also makes me feel really old. To wit:

When I visited my host family, we had no phone, no television, piped in plumbing but no natural gas for heating or cooking. My host brother, Cesar, and I would venture a few blocks every few days to trade in BBQ canisters that seem so prevalent in American backyards these days. Today, we have the internet to arrange accommodations, track down host family members and some of them carry more than one cellphone. I'll buy a cheap one to use while we're there, rather than expose myself to AT&T Global roaming rates. At the same time, visiting "net-cafe's" every few days will enable me to run through and delete email messages.

Mark had never flown on an airplane, and had only been as far north as Klamath Falls out of the state of California. Now, I'm an Alaska Airlines frequent flyer, already have the tickets we'll need to visit Palm Desert for Thanksgiving, and spend far too much time in small airportss like Boise and Idaho Falls. At least I'll cover one base on this trip..."If you don't get a direct flight to heaven, chances are you'll have a stopover in Atlanta..." I get to visit the Atlanta airport for the first time next Sunday evening. (I wonder if they'll have the season finale of Mad Men somewhere to be seen?)

The final leg of the American Field Service charter meant that 24 American kids would land together on a Boeing 707 in Santiago, after dropping colleagues in Panama City, Quito and Guyaquil before we disembarked. Receiving treatment usually aligned with heads of state, we were swept through Customs because Pele was playing in the World Cup Final, 1970, in Mexico City. This time, I'll be one of more than 300 visitors waiting my turn in line. Hoping I can figure out transportation to my hotel as the first test of Rosetta Stone training. What an exciting, yet scary, prospect.

A few days later, Nate will arrive and I'll know someone. Someone I can speak English with. Nate will force me to try out the Spanish on which we've spent so much time and money in the last few months. It will be great to wander Los Andes and try to re-connect with the geography from 40 years ago.

Then, just as Nate and I get the local feel, Judy arrives. It will be a true delight to show off Chilean institutions to her, and have her get even more excited than she's become in the last six months. Great food. Wine for less than $5. Showing her the moonlight on the Andes and the Southern Cross.

"When you see the Southern Cross
For the first time,
You will understand
Why you came this way...."

(Southern Cross, by Stephen Stills--but a feature of every Buffett Concert I've attended)

How many Parrotheads have actually SEEN the Southern Cross? I've found very few natural features of the planet that strike me quite like the Andes in the moonlight with the Southern Cross above. One needs to look into the eyes of our children when we first meet them, or laugh together at a wedding, to see anything close to the sparkle that arises in the moonlight.

Likely I'll post one last time, then perhaps not for a month. I haven't decided what to do about blogging on the trip...it is either a waste of really good time, or a great way to keep people informed. The answer is probably that I won't have an answer, and that whatever may show up will come in bits and pieces AFTER we return, posting a diary after the fact to let everyone know what fun we've had. That also assumes I will return, something that in 1970 I fought for more than a few weeks against the AFS buraucracy. I wanted to stay and play in the regional basketball play-offs, they wanted me de-briefing in Santiago and on the next AFS jet out. I bet they figured one step closer to the airport was less dangerous than one step closer to my friends in Los Andes.

Oh, and in the midst of all this, the last Chilean miner will likely exit his dungeon about the time I arrive. Pots and Pan celebrations are huge in Santiago, I can only imagine what it will be like if everyone emerges safely. It isn't likely many Chileans will care about whether I've arrived, even if meeting the President was on the schedule. And that's OK...