Who is smoking in my bed? Oh, it's me.

Santiago Travel Blog

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It's really a shame I don't get informed about the places we are going to, for when I say 'we went to... some discoteca' it doesn't really help anyone here reading this. But c'est la vie (if that's how you spell it), no one really thinks of telling the gringas much here. But I'll try to describe it as much as I remember!

Last night we got back from our school field trip (just a day tour walking around the city, that blog will come later), had dinner, and then watched the horrible Mexico-Argentina game. Everyone, and I mean everyone, said Argentina was going to win hands down, but I refused to believe it. I am a Mexico fan at heart! (Once you go to Mexico, it definitely stays with you. Being here makes me miss it a ton!) After the game, and after Paul (the American who lives in this house with us) came back from his job, we went out to his friends' house. The people there were those who worked with him, and also a bunch of random people who just knew the owners of the house. Emily and I wanted to meet Paul's work friends, but someone only managed to meet one. However, we did meet ALL the random people whom we will most likely never see again. Strange!

After drinking with them for about half an hour in their huge, gorgeous house, we went to a discoteca/club on Manual Montt (a busy street here). I guess it should be easy to find-- it's literally RIGHT next door to the Manual Montt metro station, and on Wednesday nights, it's "Foreigners Night". I have no idea what that means, but everyone kept saying it, so I suppose it's good being a foreigner on Wed? How strange it is to think of myself as a foreigner, as a side note!

At the club, Emily most definitely ditched me to hang out with Paul... and I think they're going out. What is going out though? The three of us are only here for a month... although he does live in Florida, and she in North Carolina, so I suppose the drive isn't that bad. Gracias a Dios/Thank God I can be sociable though, and spent the majority of my night telling everyone I can't dance and that they should show me. By the way: If you can't dance, you SHOULD tell people this. I know, I know, you probably look like a huge dork, and no one will want to date you, but if you are okay with that (and I certainly am down for looking like a dork, I think it's my job) you should tell people. It's fun, because then everyone wants to help you and you end up dancing with EVERYONE at the club. After all, everyone wants to help you practice, so you end up meeting lots of people. Plus, you can introduce yourself to anyone, tell them you can't dance, and it's not like you're trying to hook up with them. Best of all, you can look like a nerd and not feel awkward about it. Caveat: This may not work for guys. I'm not entirely sure... I know some German guy came up to me and said he didn't know how to dance either, though, so I spent the rest of the night dancing with him. Haha, just thinking about it makes me wonder exactly how bad I looked.

And a note on being German/Irish/not-a-lightweight-- it sucks! I stopped drinking for four months before this trip so that it wouldn't be so expensive to go out at night and NOT feel a buzz, and I had SEVERAL drinks last night and most definitely was only slightly buzzed. Emily, on the other hand, had only a few drinks, plus spilled her drink all up on me, and didn't remember parts of the night. Boo. I suppose I should give up drinking for an entire year, no?

All in all, the club with no name is actually really fun-- the best I've seen so far. Dancing AND drinks... it's not very good for having a conversation though, unless you go to the lobby near the bathrooms. Oh, and the title? Everyone, EVERYONE in Chile smokes, and I slept in my green jacket (the same one I wore to the club, don't tell me it's gross-- if you knew how cold it was here, you'd sleep in all of your clothes/I'm a huge baby when it comes to the cold) and when I turned over this morning, I thought to myself "Gross, someone has been smoking in my bed... oh wait, it's me and my jacket. Damn."
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photo by: Bluetraveler