Notes on leaving Chile

Life had become to same old, same old to carry on with this blog, or so I thought. And then I decided to move to Argentina. So, the old brian may be a little rusty, but expect a few meaningless ponderings to start materializing.

When I was preparing to leave Chile, people asked me what I would miss most about the country. I don’t know what they expected, the scenery or the skiing, perhaps. The reliable economy.

My answer was always unexpected for them, and for me, unquestioned. Of course, the thing I would miss most would be La Vega, Santiago’s enormous covered market.

I took my parents to La Vega last September and was reminded how I had felt the first time I went there. It’s big, noisy, and dirty. It’s absolute chaos. We walked around, and even though it was a bank holiday and only half-awake, I kept my eye on my mother’s handbag and held her by the arm. La Vega is not for the faint-hearted.

The market covers three separate warehouses, and all the surrounding streets, with licensed and unlicensed stalls, stray dogs, and drunks. It attracts some of the most unfortunate and poor of Santiago. It is buzzing with life from dawn till evening, and maybe beyond – I’ve never ventured to find out, but the barrio houses enough gambling shops and cafés con piernas (strip bars) to make it a good bet for the dissolute.

And inside the three massive warehouses, you can find the freshest berries, the strangest cuts of meat, and any kind of herb you can think of. Santiago’s supermarkets are horrifically expensive, but for those willing to brave the various smells of La Vega, anything in season can be had dirt cheap, and still with dirt on it, more likely than not. Compared to the supermarkets’ limited stock, here you can buy fresh mint, rabbit, whole sweetbreads – even a pig’s head, if that’s your bag.

Here is where the best restaurants in Santiago buy their ingredients, and here, when you have explored, you can stuff yourself silly on fresh Colombian, Peruvian or Chilean food for a few luca (1000 pesos).

After a few visits to the same stalls, the merchants of La Vega are chatty and welcoming. The market has a sense of community the likes of which I haven’t seen anywhere else in the city.

Santiago is many things. Safe, quiet, prosperous – if you look at it one way. Another look, and you see it’s divided, repressed, and in conflict. La Vega is another thing altogether, and a great one.