After an incredible week in Chile, I’m back home and it’s time to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard, as the case may be).

Don’t get me wrong: I love my home office here in New York City.

But after spending the past week either outdoors or looking out onto these views…

it’s gonna be tough getting back in my NYC groove.

Text & Photos: Julie Schwietert Collazo
Translated by: Francisco Collazo

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[vease abajo para la version en espanol]

There are a hundred thoughts that pass through your mind when you’re standing in front of glaciers and icebergs in Patagonian Chile.

You think about time and the environment, about beauty and what it means to see something with your own eyes that you’ve only heard about.

And you think about dinosaur water.

As we trekked across the rocky beach ripped with wind, Alison Brick (a writer for Vagablogging) and I listened to the sound of the water lap up against the crystals of ice that lined the shore like an enormous diamond necklace.

“It sounds like windchimes,” she said, and she was right.

We walked up to a high point to look out towards the glacier and to get close shots of the icebergs.

And then we came back down to the water again. Alison picked up a piece of ice and held it in her hands.

“I’m holding dinosaur water!” she said with a tone of awe.

Her spontaneous exclamation was perfect. What strikes you more than anything as you stand at the foot of icebergs in Chilean Patagonia is the sense that you are just the latest addition in the universe’s long and lovely timeline.

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Hay cientos de ideas que pasan por tu mente cuando estas frente a frente a los glaciales y tempanos de hielo en la patagonia de Chile.

Uno piensa en el tiempo y en el medio ambiente, de la belleza de ser testigo y ver las cosas que antes solamente las oias decir y ahora las puedes ver con tus propios ojos.

Y piensas de estas aguas tan viejas como el dinosaurio.

Mientras caminamos en la playa rocosa acosada por los fuertes vientos, Alison Brick (una escritora para Vagablogging) y yo, nos detenemos a escuchar el sonido de las olas que golpean las formaciones de cristales de hielo que se forman en la orilla como si fuera un collar de diamantes.

“Esto suenan como moviles de viento,” me dijo ella, que de hecho era cierto.

Ambas caminamos hacia el punto mas elevado y cercano al glacial para tomar una mejor foto a los tempanos de hielo.

Luego bajamos a la orilla. Alison recoge un cristal de hielo en sus manos.

“Tengo en mis manos aguas tan viejas como el dinosaurio!” dice con tono de sorpresa y asombro.

Su exclamacion espontanea fue perfecta.

Lo que mas te choca de toda esta experiencia en la Patagonia Chilena mientras observas los tempanos de hielo, es el hecho de que te das cuenta que eres el ultimo objeto agregado a esta linea de tiempo y maravillas.

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Photos taken on the road between Punta Arenas and Torres del Paine, in Chilean Patagonia, between 8:00 and 9:00 PM on November 13.

Fotos tomadas en el camino entre Punta Arenas y Torres del Paine, en la Patagonia chilena, entre 8 y 9 de la noche el 13 de Noviembre.

Text & Photo: Julie Schwietert Collazo

This week, I’m traveling around Chile (that long, thin country in South America), and have found myself falling in love–yet again–with another Latin American nation.

Highlights?

Sharing dinner and some local wine under the stars with Chilean bloggers and podcasters in Santiago, talking about national identity, digital media, and–of course–Obama!

Eating the freshest seafood ever and realizing I actually like it.

Listening to a live karaoke rendition of the song “Sweet Child of Mine,” a heavy metal favorite from my adolescence, at a bar in the capital.

Watching the sun rise over the Andes this morning.

Fulfilling one of my life dreams of seeing the home of the Chilean poet, Pablo Neruda (well, one of the three, anyway).

Tromping around the raw, wild landscape of what’s just shy of the southernmost point in South America, penguin watching and meeting super-friendly locals for conversation around a fireplace.

Turning around and seeing a double rainbow out my window this afternoon.

Walking everywhere with these words of Neruda in my head:

Voy a cumplir con todos
porque debo
a todos mi alegría.

No se sorprenda nadie porque quiero
entregar a los hombres
los dones de la tierra,
porque aprendí luchando
que es mi deber terrestre
propagar la alegría.
Y cumplo mi destino con mi canto.

What do you know about Chile? What would you like to know? Have you ever thought about visiting? Leave a comment below!

This week, I’ve been at the US naval base and Joint Task Force Operations command in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba.

There are dozens of stories to share, and I’ll be writing more about my experiences at Guantanamo both here on CollazoProjects and on the Matador Network in the coming weeks. In fact, you can check out two pieces I’ve already written– Sweet Digs, Harry Potter and the Real Chamber of Secrets, and 5 Things You Should Know About Guantanamo — to start getting a sense of what’s been happening here.

In the meantime, I’d like to introduce you to the happiest woman at Guantanamo.

Sam, the assistant manager of the kitchen responsible for preparing all detainee meals–not to mention galley meals for troopers–is a Korean American contractor who has been working on Guantanamo for five years.

As most terms of service at Guantanamo–military or contractor– are one year or less, Sam definitely has some seniority around here. And though she gets off the base every six months or so for vacation, the island fever that one might expect to set in after so much time here doesn’t seem to affect her in the least.

She’s quite possibly one of the most positive people I’ve met, and the troopers I met confirmed that they’ve never seen her with anything other than a smile. So… meet the happiest woman at Guantanamo, who has no plans to leave any time soon.