The wanderlust prompted us to take a stroll in the suburbs whose houses along the slopes still showed signs of the devastation caused by earthquakes and landslides. After a strenous climb uphill we were glad to find ourselves in a public park with a bench partly occupied by a statue.
"If you don't climb the mountain, you’ll never enjoy the view.” (Pablo Neruda)
Looking up from the seat we saw a peculiarly shaped, glass fronted, multi-storey house which seemed to attract many passers-by. Curious, we too went towards it. We found ouselves in landscaped gardens with shady trees and benches down the terraced slope, with a great view of the Pacific Ocean. The plaque indicated that it was La Serena, one of the homes of Pablo Neruda, a Nobel Laureate, originally built for his secret girlfriend.* Of course, I couldn't miss the opportunity to take a look into a bit of the extraordinaire's life. As usual, Drink encouraged me to visit the house ( now a museum) while he enjoyed the gardens.
*We had discovered one of Pablo's houses, Las Chascona, in Santiago, as we were exploring the huge market nearby.
Caught unawares
We still had some Chilean Pesos. It would not be wise to convert them back to USD not only because of exchange rates but also the risk of being issued fake notes. Drink handed me a 10,000 CLP which I blithely hand over to the lady at the counter for a 7,000 CLP entry ticket. The lady did not look up at me. She simply handed the note back to me, asking for the next person in the line. I waited till that customer and another had bought their tickets, thinking that they may have been there before me. I could have barged in. I tried again. This time she almost flung the note back, staring at me and emphatically saying "No!No!" as though chastising a recalcitrant child. Not knowing what was happening I tried desperately, using simple English and gestures, to find out why I had been turned down so vehemently. Lucky for me, another guest who had a smattering of English said "fake".
We had associated fake notes with Brazil and Argentina, but incredibly we had been too trusting in Chile. We were certainly wizened ( not that it would have made a great difference had we been more alert). That I thought was the deciding factor. I would simply enjoy the view from the garden but Drink had a little more Pesos to spare. We counted out the right amount and I marched back to the counter with some apprehension. The notes passed. With barely a glance at me, the issuer handed me the 'hard fought' piece of paper.
The house was well worth the hassle. It certainly had a very curious eccentric structure filled with the late poet's bohemian, and wacky collections of art and furniture. The view of the ocean from his study must surely have been conducive to the extraordinary perspectives in his prolific artistic output.
Our visit to another eccentric house in Vietnam will be the subject for another post.
Pay back time
As we left the premises Drink had a brilliant idea, as usual, and as usual, I carried out the plan. Our fake note was worth USD 10, no small amount for us. He suggested I buy something at the few souvenir shops just along the public park. So with the folded note in hand I examined the wares on display. Everything I liked and would find good use cost way more than what I had. I chose a ring the lady said would set me back 15,000 CLP. I said I couldn't afford it. had only 10,000. There were no other customers and she readily accepted my note after handing me my purchase. I didn't waste time wondering whether I could have bargained for less. The thing to do was to leave the area as soon as possible. Since it was down hill we made a fast exit.
If Drink was expecting me to hand over the small change, he must have been dispspointed.
When I showed the ring to friends they thought the ring was made of Lapiz lazuli (a gem) and worth every penny I paid. To date that is the most expensive souvenir I've bought for if we do buy at all they would hardly cost more than a dollar.
Sagacity or deception
The after feeling was not of smugness but of fair-play -- a local vendor would surely know what to do with the fake note.
The poet spells out the mood for us in his Ode to Thanks:
Thanks to the word that says thanks!
Thanks to thanks,
word
that melts
iron and snow!
The world is a threatening place
until
thanks
makes the rounds
from one pair of lips to another,
soft as a bright
feather
and sweet as a petal of sugar,
filling the mouth with its sound
or else a mumbled
whisper.
Can be excused
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