A Bad Decision in Chile!

Journaled on January 28th

The police were called. My decision seemed to be of the unwise.

Standing on a large bluff, a Christ statue watches over Arica and the Pacific Ocean. This 500-foot-high bluff serves as a separation between the city and the nearby beaches. My hotel was along the beach. A taxi ride around the ascending rock was required to enter the city. Mostly, its composure was of rock and sand. On the beachside, there are vertical drops as well as some areas suitable for hiking down. Though, one must have agility to do this. The cityside contians a path that leads to the Christ.

Earlier in the day, I'd walked around the bluff to arrive at the city. Returning, I decided that I'd make the route direct, going up and over the bluff. Easy task, right? First, I was forced to take a different path on the cityside as a policeman was prohibiting entrance on the primary walkway for some reason. I found that Carnaval fireworks were being setup, which gave reason for the policeman's stance. The views were spectacular as I looked out over the city, the port, the beaches, and the Pacific! Preparing for the descent, I searched for a possible path. Weaving back and forth, I was able to make it down. The last 60 feet were awesome as my feet sank deeply into the slightly damp sand. Leaping and turning my ankles, I made sharp zig-zag cuts in the soft sand as I skied down.

As I gazed upward at my feat, I noticed a steel gate about 200 feet above my current stance. It was blocking the entrance into a cliffside tunnel. Though, the rusted gated looked to be ajar. My curiousity began to poke me as I scouted the terrain separating me from this entrance into the unkown. This would be a steep climb amongst rocks and up a sandy surface. My foot stepped ahead of me, and I began my climb! After a short five minutes, I realized the difficulty that was before me in actuality. I gripped loose rock after loose rock until finally finding a firm one. Even large rocks were not immune to being loose. All found their rooting in the sand. Often, small rockslides would begin beneath me when rocks would fail to pass my test. A fury of dust followed!

My climb continued as I was nearing the gate. Scouring, my hands yearned for a firm grip from above. None could be found. I was only able to move horizontally or downward. Turning my body so as to sit on a firm rock, I looked out at the Pacific and contemplated my next move. I then saw that four people below created my audience. This immediately arose second thoughts in my mind. I sat in contemplation for the next five minutes. A climb of only 60 feet would satisfy my intrigue and allow access into the mysterious tunnel. But the danger was increasing.

Contrary to my desire, I aborted the discovery. The descent down would not be easy. With several onlookers still peering at my every move, I slowly tested several rocks with the tips of my toes. Most were loose. Tediously, though, I began to find my way down. Forty feet remained.

Speeding down the road, two motorbikes headed in my direction. They stopped. The uniformed drivers stared at me. Quickly, they hopped off the road onto the sand and to the base of my descent. My first congratulators had arrived; they were policemen. As Chile is a relatively civilized country, I was reminded that I had forgotten to rid myself of the "third-world mentality" when I crossed over from impoverished Bolivia. Making my way down to the police, I still had to hold focus. In a flash, my hand pulled a loose rock out of place! It barrelled down, striking my left shin. Its signature was blood. The damage was minimal.

"Hola! Lo es un malo idea. ¿No?," I spoke loudly. They nodded in agreement that the idea was a "bad one." Continuing, I said, "Yo hablo poco espanol," figuring that this would further my naivé platform, which was quite accurate. Pulling out his English phrasebook, the policeman pointed to the word "identification." This was surely not leading in a good direction - I thought. In response, I indicated that it was back at the hotel room. Further, I began to ask why no signs indicated the danger that was before us. They shrugged without answer, only commenting on how people have died on that cliffside. I returned the shrug.

Kindly, the policemen said that they would watch me walk back to the hotel so as to make sure that there would be no second attempt. Trust me, their eyes made no difference on my motivation. There was no way that I'd make another attempt! It had become fact to me that this was an initial bad decision.

- Tyler