The world operates on two different timescales, “monocrónico” and “policrónico.” As a type-A American journalist, I use the former, meaning when someone says to show up at a certain time, I’m there on the dot. In Chile, and much of the world, they use the “policrónico” timescale, which best translates to “ish.” For example if someone says lunch is at 3 p.m., expect people to start showing up sometime before 4 p.m.. And yes—lunch in Chile is at 3 p.m.… ish.
Photo: Jordan Ingmire
I’m knee deep in #EOTC2, and there are only two ways to adapt to this lifestyle: dancing and pisco. It’s amazing how much pisco one can drink and still ski in the morning. Former Olympians and Ski Utah employees take to this lifestyle quickly. Leading the charge is La Parva’s Rodrigo Medina—now, after watching him belt out Madonna on the Karaoke stage, I understand that Chileans, or at least the “Rodwiler,” operate on a whole different level. Evolve or miss out. “Estamos en Chile.”
There’s no rush for first chair, lifts run ‘til 5 p.m., and parties usually rage until sunrise. Dinner is just a segue to dancing. At one restaurant they literally clear the tables out from under us as we relish our last sips of wine, simultaneously firing up the music. Dance Gringos, dance! Casualties are minimal—a burned hand from a stovepipe mistaken for a pole, and a bruised sternum from some overenthusiastic worming.
Lift lines simply don’t exist. It’s a vert-logger’s paradise. The magic of La Parva though, lies in the hiking. On the last day #EOTC2 judges Adam Clark, Ingrid Backstrom, Sherry McConkey, Chris Davenport and I hike to an area known as “False La Parva.” It’s a one- to two-hour hike through a Martian, rock-strewn landscape. The reward is a zone filled with steep chutes and terrain features that rival hike-to terrain anywhere. It’s just the beginning. Exploration is endless.
Leaving La Parva is bitter sweet, but we head to Santiago to premier the films each team has made at IF3 the “International Fresh Films Festival.” It’s held in Mall Sport, a mall that only has shops containing sporting goods. There’s a skate park, rock wall, and standing wave. For lack of a better term it’s rad as hell.
The pageantry is unreal. Hundreds of Chileans gather around a hole in the middle of the mall’s floor as all the teams emerge complete with smoke and lasers. Champagne flows freely. Each movie is a break from ski porn. The week’s skiing wasn’t banner, forcing the filmmakers to use every ounce of their creativity. Chris Bezamat from team Discrete took home top honors for photography, and the Icelantic girls took home top video.
We spill out of Mall Sport and into a Santiago club where we do what comes naturally at this point—dance. I arrive home at the hotel at 5:30 a.m. bearing Bezamat’s trophy and Team Icelantic’s oversized check with no clue how they landed in my possession.
My final day in Chile leads a crowd of hungover skiers and me to a mall where we order beer with our burgers. It’s a Burger King. Then off to the “Café con Peirnas,” a coffee shop with scantily clad women.
When we get off the subway we’re interrupted by what I can only assume is a tribal street fair. Drums beat wildly as exotically clad tribal dancers move through the streets. Time is running short. I’m supposed to go back to the hotel, but I resist. I’ve found so much life in Chile, but I can’t let down Rodrigo. He’s waiting to put me on a plane.
The planes in Chile, sadly, don’t operate on the “policrónico” timescale. It’s my first pinch of reality since I landed. I leave my friends in the midst of the chaos, and perhaps it’s best that way. It seems like a dream, and one I hope to relive soon.
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For part 3 click HERE
For more info on what Rodrigo calls "The best (expletive deleted) resort in the universe" aka La Parva click HERE