My first impression of Santiago is that class divisions are very apparent here. Of course, I'd probably say the same thing about New York or LA if I'd gotten lost on the bus system and ridden random buses to every corner of the city (more about that later). Some neighborhoods are full of huge colonial mansions. In others, the brightly-colored paint is peeling and the roofs are made of corrugated tin. I've seen few middle-class apartment blocks. Still, the Chilean government has made a lot of progress in the fight against poverty. Ten years ago, at the end of Pinochet's rule, 40% of the population lived in poverty. Now that figure is 13%. Even in the poorer tin-roofed neighborhoods, the houses look sturdy and the children look well-fed.

Santiago seems to be composed of 3 concentric circles: in the middle is the busy downtown area, full of old colonial architecture. Further out are strings of shopping malls and small businesses. The outer circle - the residential area - contains housing for 6 million people.

My trip to Santiago started off slowly. I checked out the colonial architecture in the Plaza de Armas and wandered through my hostel's neighborhood, but didnt see anything really spectacular. I liked the bustle of downtown and the tranquility of the residential neighborhoods, but suspected that Santiago was a better place to live than to visit. For tourists, there didn't seem to be much to see.

My outlook improved with a visit to Cerro San Cristobal, a hill with a view of the entire city. I almost didnt go thanks to the cloudy skies, but the view of Santiago, sprawled at the bottom of the mist-shrouded Andes, was worth the trip. I "splurged" $3.50 on the cable car, which rewarded me with a closer view of snow-capped peaks topped by austere crosses. On the way back, the wind howled and rocked my car back and forth. I hung onto the hand rial and reminded myself that they surely wouldnt have let me go if it weren't safe. By the end of the ride, the clouds had thickened neough to obscure the mountains completely, to I headed to La Chascona, one of Pablo Neruda's three remaining houses. (La Chascona, Neruda's nickname for his second wife, means "messy-haired" one). The interior is hard to describe, but Neruda had lots of cool stuff...not surprising for a poet\dipolmat who travelled around the world.

Although I enjoyed today, I think I've exhausted most of the sights Santiago has to offer. I could move onto Valpraiso, but I hate to move only two days into my trip. Perhaps a daytrip to a nearby fishing village is in order.

~Meredith