The Last Leg: On to Chiloe!

The next day I still couldn't shower, but I told myself that I would soon be in Chiloe and then I could get clean and comfortable. All seven of us packed up, caught the microbus, and returned to Osorno that morning. Caroline became my bus partner and official tour guide as we transferred to another bus and headed even further south to the island of Chiloe. Chiloe is South America's second largest island, and the only way to get there is by boat. When we arrived to the Pacific shore, our bus was loaded onto a ferry with another bus, a couple trucks (the one next to me had flammable materials), and several cars for the 40 minute crossing to the island.

Once we crossed, it was just a few more miles to Ancud, and the promise of a warm shower, right? Wrong! One of Rosa's cousins met us at the bus station. He drives a taxi in Ancud. He would take us to the farmhouse of Rosa's aunt and uncle, the grandparents of Caroline and Boris Jr. I was a little bothered because this was not where we would be staying, and there would be no shower for me to use. The farmhouse was filled with other family members, including three adorable cousins, again I have forgotten their names. The place to be was the kitchen, which, in Chiloe style, is the only room in the house with heat. The heat comes from a large wood-burning stove, traditional to the island. It has mutiple burners on top and drawers for cooking or warming food. Benches were built all around it where the family sits to talk. When we arrived, there was a huge pot of soup on the stove. I was thrilled. That is, until it was served to me. In it was not spinach, as I originally had presumed, but rather seaweed. There were also potatoes and some sort of sea creature meat; it looked very tentacle-y. I tried just a few bites, but decided I couldn't eat any more and felt bad for offending the cook.

I never thought we would leave that house! I sat for hours, reading, playing cards with the kids (by the end, they all knew how to play Pesca and Cucharas, even the three-year-old), and trying to keep warm by the stove. While I was seated on the benches, I saw Rosa and her cousin prepare for dinner. They had a saw and were cutting through the bones of a dead, skinned pig hanging in the other room. I wanted to throw up, but I had to remind myself that it was cool in the other room, there were no bugs, and this was the way the Chilotes had been doing things for years. The meat was cooked with garlic over the stove and was quite tasty as a dinner. Finally, around 10pm, we decided to return to the city, where Rosa and I would be staying in the house of some cousins who were out of town (actually, staying back in Rosa's house while they attended a conference in Santiago).