Writing from the weirdest internet cafe ever. Black Sabbath is blasting on the loud speakers and each computer is surrounded by thick blue curtains. I suspect that I´m the only person not looking at porn.

    It´s been awhile since my last update. I´ve had a hard time thinking of what to write about La Serena, a city which certainly lives up to its name. The streets are clean, crime is non-existant, and the colonial architecture protected by careful zoning laws...and like clean and tranquil cities the world over, it´s a little dull. Thanks to a cold, I´ve been stalled here longer than anticipated. In 3 days, after a brief stop on the beach in Antofagasta, I´ll be headed to the frigid Atacama desert - certainly not a good place for someone who´s already a bit sick.

    Thanks to my delay, I met a new travel companion - Liz, a British girl born in Ghana and raised in London. She laughs all the time and thinks everything is "crash hot." I like British slang.

    One of the nice things about La Serena is that its given me a chance to observe ordinary Chilean life. I made my first trip to the grocery store here. It was crazy! People crowding everywhere, salsa music on the loud speakers, and a man strolling with a microphone shouting out the specials of the day. I bought an apple half the size of my head. The mall is exactly like an American mall, right down to the food court, which is called "food court." One small difference: KFC here means "Kentucky Foods Chile." As I walked through the stores, I noticed something strange: although most people here are dark-skinned, the models staring down from advertisements were pale like me. So there´s a place in the world where I´ll be rewarded for refusing to tan!

    It seems that everyone here has a baby...or two...or six. I thought that might be my imagination, but there are special parking spots and an express lane at the grocery store for "futura mama."

    Three thirteen-year-old girls befriended me at the beach last week. Our brief conversation is one of my favorite memories of the trip. In halting English, one asked me where I was from, and with awe in her voice, repeated "Nueva York!" to her friends. Then we moved onto the important business: do I have a boyfriend? All three were shocked when I said no, because I didn´t want one right now. When I asked if they had boyfriends, their jaws nearly dropped -- thirteen, they told me gravely, is much too young to date.

    My two favorite places in La Serena are the junkshop and the market. It´s a good thing I´m not at the end of my trip because I could easily fill my pack with souvenirs from the junkshop. They have everything - massive iron keys, locks, old photos, old records, kerosene lanterns...the list goes on and on. In an old suitcase stuffed with tattered black and white photos, I stumbled across pictures of Spain in the 1920s. Many were from Toledo, one of my favorite places in Spain. Standing in a Chilean junkshop surrounded by memories of Spain was an amazing and strange experience. I spent $10 on the old pictures and a key.

    The market is the only place in La Serena that is not serene. The restaurant hawkers saw us (me and Liz) coming a block away, obviously tourists. With people jamming business cards in our faces, I felt like I was back in Cairo! Most were amicable and seemed sorry for our annoyance. They were just doing their jobs, they said, and winter is a slow season. We ditched them until we reached the second floor, the restaurant level. Then a woman with garish gold lipstick spotted us and began to shepard us into her restaurant. When we asked to see the menu, a man quickly appeared. The prices looked good, so we asked for a table on the balcony. Little did we know that menu man was from the rival restaurant across the way! Gold Lipstick Lady stepped back and forth in front of us, blocking our path. She didn´t give up until two beefy waiters arrived and grabbed her wrists. The food was not good, but the free drinks were!

    Yesterday, Liz and I visited Pisco Elqui, a small town in the mountains near here. The drive was surreal: on one side of the bus, the mountains were brown and covered with prickly cactuses (cacti?). On the other side was a clear blue river and mountains so green and lush I thought I was in Ireland. Pisco Elqui was like a step backwards into the wild west...dusty streets, two or three tiny general stores, and low tin-roofed buildings. In the center was a blue and yellow Catholic church that looked like it was made from candy. Maybe not so wild west after all.

    Tonight I´m taking the night bus to Antofagasta. In 7-10 days I´ll be in Bolivia!

~Meredith