Loving La Vega

There are few things in Latin culture I'm more drawn to than the markets. For many people most, if not all, of their food is purchased in local mercados. I happen to live a short walk from La Vega, which is one of the biggest mercados in Chile. It really is massive, made up of hundreds of vendors selling nearly everything edible you could ever want and expect to find in Chile.

Living in Santiago Centro with Bella Artes, Bellavista and Providencia in walking distance it is easy to forget what the rest of Chile is like. These neighborhoods are full of a smaller population of more modern, cosmopolitan and artsy Chileans. Fortunately all it takes is a 10 minute walk north, past Rio Mapocho to La Vega and the surrounding neighborhood of Patronato to get a glimpse of a more typical Chilean community. It is more gritty, colorful and full of the sketchy character that I am constantly drawn to. It is wildly different from where I grew up in NY to say the least. 

Sitting in the middle of it is La Vega which is certainly the center of life in this barrio. The streets are always packed with trucks, push-carts and mobile vendors transporting seemingly endless supplies of fresh produce. Sidewalks are packed with locals selling anything from used clothes to TV antenas and batteries. And of course pedestrians heading to and from the market are littered throughout the streets and sidewalks.

The first few times visiting La Vega was a little intimidating. I ended up walking around looking at everything for nearly an hour before even purchasing anything. After a couple months of weekly trips I am getting pretty efficient. I can be in and out in twenty minutes and know which vendors have the best and cheapest selections. And cheap it is. Every single time I walk away from this place I have a smile ear to ear and feel as if I just happened to hit a 75% off everything sale. But no, this place is cheap all day, everyday.

This is an example of what $11 of groceries looks like from La Vega.

For whatever reason I really enjoy the lack of order and chaotic nature of places like this. It is messy, smelly (sometimes good, sometimes bad), unruly and a little dangerous. It just feels so authentic. It isn't even uncommon to see cars or motorcycles for some reason navigating these tiny aisles. Everybody is yelling, bargaining, throwing things, running around and keeping the energy level abnormally high. The bottom line is, it is a very interesting place to spend an hour or two wandering around and highly recommend it to anybody visiting Santiago. I plan on doing a more formal photo essay in the future about La Vega, so for now I only have a couple photos I shot this morning while shopping.

Check out an older post about the market in Cusco, Peru here!

Underground Dining in NYC + LA

My friends over at Gusta.com have had some nice press lately. For a guide to underground dining in NY and LA check out these Business Insider articles: New York,  Los Angeles (and to see some of my photos :-))

Highlands Dinner Club at the Brooklyn Grange - A one acre farm on a rooftop in Queens - 7/11 -

through Gusta.com

Mercado Central in Cusco

Much of South America seems to be a land of backwards living and logic. It is a place where milk is kept in the cupboard and doesn't expire for two months. Eggs are kept unrefrigerated next to the cash register and can be purchased individually. Toilet paper is thrown not in the toilet, but in a small garbage next to the toilet. Because apparently they can handle massive turds, but not single-ply toilet tissue. Lawnmowers are minimally used because an old woman with 10-20 sheep comes around and keeps the grass at a perfectly manageable length. Typically, the cheaper the food, the more you get. So anybody who says the US has obnoxiously big portions has never been anywhere in South America. Depending on the city and country, $3 can get you a one pound steak, half a pound of rice, potatoes, salad and vegetables (quality not guaranteed). In the mercados (markets) large chunks of meat, fish and everything else you can imagine, sit out all day being attacked by flies and nibbled on by sneaky stray dogs. Safety and health standards in many aspects of life are largely ignored (dependent upon the area of course). It doesn't matter how many people should fit on a bus, they will fit as many as physically possible. The bus may sag, creak and groan and max out at 50 km/hr and it may even break down. Yet, at $2 for a 5 hour bus ride you really can't complain. One might assume there would be a bathroom on a 24 hour bus ride along dirt roads. But no, not in Bolivia. You'll be lucky if it stops once or twice so you can go on the side of the street. This is South America, and it is awesome, even if sometimes inconvenient.

Mercados are the lifeblood of practically every city and town in most South American countries. They are cheap and offer a wide variety of fruits, vegetables, meats, fish, grains and everything else you can imagine. Sure, the US has markets, but they aren't quite the same and they don't seem to be nearly as popular. The mercado in Cusco was one of the bigger and more interesting ones I have come across. It's broken down into sections for meat, fish, pork, vegetables etc. There are piles of every piece of every regional animal you could imagine from the intestines and testicles to entire heads. The smells may nauseate and the sights may be even worse. Yet, if seeing how locals purchase their food interests you this is a not to be missed experience.

Warning! If butchered animals and their insides aren't something you want to see I suggest not viewing the below images.

Mercado in Cusco

Vendors

Local

Vendor selling fish eggs and garlic

Butcher

Fish Vendor - fish don't need to be on ice in Peru

Local vendor

Fruit

More fruits

Sopas

Most likely what you think they are

Not as happy as the cartoon pig in the background

All sorts of organs

Good for stew?

Rodents

Return from South America

A few days ago I returned to New York City after an exciting, productive and exhausting two month journey through Peru, Bolivia and Chile. As usual, after returning from an extended trip, I seem to be stumbling through life filled with a variety of confusing and conflicting feelings. I am happy to be back to see friends and family, to do the things I love in New York (mostly involving eating) and to upload and begin editing thousands of photos. I am slow to get back to the grind of daily life, but equally anxious to find work, pay bills and begin saving for my next trip, whatever that may be. And of course, my greatest desire is to be back there, exploring a land that is unfamiliar, inspiring and overwhelmingly beautiful.

Processing two months of photos, notes and memories is no easy task when practically every day was filled with something of significant interest. I'll begin with a few unedited entries from my notebook.


"Peru has been a great time so far, despite the fact I was quite sick for the first eight days. Last years trip to Chile and Argentina yielded minimal stomach issues from drinking the water and eating whatever the hell I wanted. So I assumed Peru couldn't be much different. Unfortunately, years of grossly extended five second rules and minimal hand washing couldn't prepare me for Peru's substandard sanitation conditions. In hindsight, my first meal in Peru probably shouldn't have been a plate of ceviche, 4 pisco sours and a glass of water. But was it the best ceviche of my life? Yes. Was it worth eight days of hugging a toilet? Probably.

Across the country the standard of living is significantly lower than anywhere else I have been, so far. Bolivia will not doubt surpass Peru. The overall lack of control and law is refreshing. A majority of driving laws are generally ignored and looking into poorer neighborhoods it's hard to imagine things like building permits or safety inspections exist. Being from a well-to-do American suburb where you can't fart without getting glared at, I always appreciate disorganization and a lack of law enforcement.

As a whole, Peruvians appear to be hardworking, but it is never really clear what they are doing. Walking through the streets you'll pass a man moving dirt from one pile to another. A woman sorting potatoes into seemingly uneven piles. A man building a wobbly brick wall in the middle of a field. And women with huge blankets on their backs filled with food, salable goods and a baby or two trekking for miles, uphill, in the middle of nowhere, at a slow and steady pace.

To say the least, I find life in Peru quite fascinating. Markets, corner stores and bus rides are more interesting than they have ever been in the US. It is a country with incredible food (with the ability to ruin weak American stomachs) rich culture and breathtaking scenery. It is a place where everything is cheap, and you can always get it cheaper. If you know how to ask. Religious celebrations are an excuse for the police to turn their backs and allow everyone to get wasted in the streets and dance, eat and fight all night long. In Lima, the traffic may be beyond obnoxious, the pollution terrible and the city less than exciting. Yet, they have some of the most incredible sunsets I've seen in years and some excellent restaurants."

Sunset - Barranco, Lima

Sunset - Miraflores, Lima

Sunset - Miraflores

Best raw fish I've ever eaten - Edo Sushi, Lima

Peruvian countryside

San Pedro de Atacama

A week and a half in Santiago and it was time to head north to Antofagasta which is a port city in the second region of Chile (Chile is divided into 15 regions(btw, region is one of those words that you can look at forever and it never looks like it's spelled right)). Camila was there to pick me up at the airport and after a short day in Antofagasta we boarded the bus to San Pedro the following morning.
For as long as I can remember I've always been fascinated by deserts, despite the fact they are the least interesting climate on earth(in terms of vegetation and wildlife). But for somebody who had not seen one until he was 20 and had a fascination since he was 5, I was thrilled to be on a three hour bus ride through the driest desert in the world. Having grown up in the area and seen too much of a barren landscape, Camila apologized profusely for the boring ride and ugliness of the scenery, but I loved it.

Typical Atacama landscape, mildly accentuated by a polarizing filter

Three hours later we ended up in Calama where we were staying with her uncle for a couple nights. Calama is a small city 40 minutes from San Pedro that reminded me of a smaller, dirtier, Latin version of Reno, without the casinos(well, there was one casino).

One of the only photos I have from Calama. Close to the uncle's casa.

The next day we headed out early for San Pedro, and as usual it was sunny and penetratingly hot. And of course I was thrilled by the dry, bleak landscape.

Getting close

Camila, on the road

Not surprisingly, I fell in love with San Pedro before even being within 15 miles of it. The first sighting of it off in the distance and I knew I wasn't going to be let down. It was a tiny town made up of dirt roads, old one story buildings, many with straw rooves and overall just had a great, laidback vibe.

Typical street

Abandoned car

Street corner

San Pedro de Atacama Church

Myself (again looking confused) in front of the church


There was a meter in the center of town telling you the intensity of the sun. At midday it was more intense than anything I could have ever imagined, and it was only 2 of 5 on the meter. At highest intensity white skinned people should spend a maximum of 22 minutes outside.

After leaving town we headed towards the salt lakes, south of San Pedro. The directions were specific, but not. After passing the last building in town go 7.3km(my estimation from memory), turn right down the sand road and keep going until the road disappears and you see the lone tree. Then go left and keep going until you see the tiny shack. We initially passed the sand road but turned around and took a guess and ended up being correct. After that, the lone tree was pretty obvious, as was the tiny shack.

Local dwellings at the edge of town


The road to the lakes


One of the salt lakes and Licancabur Volcano on the border of Bolivia in the distance


Me, about 60 yards out in the lake

The lakes were beautiful, to say the least. It was an incredible feeling to be completely alone in the middle of the driest desert in the world, standing in a random salt lake (which was no deeper than six inches for at least 100 yards). The darker blue area you see in the above photo is where it gets deeper. You have to cross what looks like coral, but crumbles under your feet, to reach the deep end. It was just like the Dead Sea, you float on the top with absolutely no effort. I had both arms and legs straight out of the water with only six inches of water on my chest. It was a surreal experience, multiplied by the fact that it was the coldest water I've ever swam in, despite the blistering sun.

After a nice swim, Camila and I decided to head towards the canyon. But not before taking an excessive amount of photos of course. Which you will only see one of here:

A salt crusted plant

Upon getting out of the water we began to dry immediately from the sun. The amount of salt in the lake left a white, crusty layer on both our skin and swimwear. The salt felt like it was sucking every bit of moisture from my body and I craved any form of sanctuary. Of course that wasn't part of the plan. We fortunately made it back to the highway but didn't get more than a mile before hearing a weak explosion sound.

It was our back tiring bursting.


We spent the next hour breaking into a faulty trunk and replacing the busted tire with a donut. Just as we were sitting back into the car the chick-chick sound of the warning lights began to fade to a chick-chiiiiiiiiiiiccckk sound. I warned Camila that it was the sound a car would make when the battery was dying. We were one second too late. The battery literally just died on us.
So for the next hour and a half we enjoyed this view before one of the few cars on the road actually had jumper cables.

Where the car broke down

During our few moments of salt covered desperation we talked about how nice it would be to get a lemonade from Tierra, a restaurant we had lunch at earlier that had great food and unforgettable lemonade. So once we were mobile again we headed straight there and got a couple lemonades, which may have been the best limonada I've ever had. We randomly went to the restaurant out of convenience and it was a great choice. The food was cheap (about $7 for the meal below) and nicely presented and very tasty. They also had fresh, handmade empenadas which were unbelieavable (especialmente el champiñónes y queso).

Amazing lemonades


Red wine balsamic chicken and glass noodles from Tierra

same

We headed straight to Valle De la Luna to catch the sunset and unfortunately just missed it, but it was still a beautiful sight to see.

Some turistas invading the area

I was obviously a tourist as well, but I do my best to disassociate myself from everything tourist. I like to think that I am for some reason above them because I am with a local. And maybe it makes me one step above the rest because of insider information, but I'm still just a tourist with a local. Either way it doesn't change my one-sided interpretation of things.

Valley of Death and Licancabur

We didn't make it to the canyon that day, but we went the next day and it was just as unforgettable as the first day in San Pedro. It was a tiny oasis 15 miles north of town, formed by runoff from hot springs miles away.

The walk down from the road


The oasis (notice the people swimming in the middle of the frame)


Our swimming hole


View from our grotto

San Pedro and the surrounding area was a beautiful place that I hope to spend more time at in the future. Two days there was not nearly enough and all it showed me is that it was beautiful and I need to come back asap.