One of the biggest shockers occurred right at the outset. When you arrive at the Santiago airport, a sign requests that Americans (and citizens of several other countries) present themselves at a little booth to pay a U.S. $100 reciprocity tax. At two o’clock in the morning and after a full day of traveling, that kind of surprise doesn’t sit well. You decide whether (and what type of) preparation would’ve lessened this blow.

The next surprise was the mountains. Even viewed initially upon nighttime arrival during a quick taxi ride through the city, the Cordillera de los Andes is an overwhelming feature of the Chilean landscape. I was awed by this presence, and I doubt that any forewarning could have made that sensation more (or less) powerful.

I struggled to understand the rapid, clipped Chilean Spanish, which presented an unexpected communication barrier. And as for making myself understood, well, after years of Spanish classes, even giving myself the benefit of the doubt I sounded like a big, inarticulate baby. ¡Qué frustración!

An interesting surprise, given the caution one has to exercise in Ecuador, where I had been briefly prior to this whirlwind Chile adventure: you can drink the tap water in Chile.

My friend told me before I arrived that the seats on the semi-cama bus recline 70%, putting you (to sleep) in the lap of luxury. It was lovely to realize that this mode of travel is indeed luxurious, especially on a gorgeous late summer day when the sun is shining brightly and the windows are cracked open and a beautiful-eyed, curly-pigtailed, mischievous young girl is trying her best to keep you awake but is not entirely successful because the allure of “the land of nod” is just… too… strong.

Seeing agribusiness campuses prominently arrayed along the highway between Santiago and Temuco was staggering. You wouldn’t imagine that that stretch of road in Chile could somehow feel like industrial New Jersey, but (surprise!) it sort of does.

One of the most surprising of surprises, and ultimately one of the best of stories from this trip involves gypsies. Gypsies? Yes, gypsies.

When a friend of mine studied abroad in Chile for one year during college, the most popular telenovela in the country was called “Gypsy.” I think he saw it as rather absurd – or at least pleasantly ironic – that he was given numerous warnings about scams frequently pulled by gypsies, given the group’s timely (omni)presence in pop culture. This season, one of the most hyped telenovelas is called “Hippie.” To the best of my knowledge, there are no hippie scams, but folks’ attention seems to have shifted. So maybe it makes sense that no one warned me about the gypsies who – despite the change in television programming – haven’t stopped obtaining money from unsuspecting tourists.

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