Author: matt.kelemen

by Adela Kelemen

The Atacama Desert, located in the northern part of Chile in South America, is HOT. It is REALLY hot. But that did not stop the Kelefors family. We got pretty beat up by twisted ankles to sunburn to cuts and scratches. But we still had an amazing time. I’m going to share our experiences with you through my eyes in a totally new way. (Please comment on how you like it.)

Day 1 – Sunday September 13, 2015

Wow, we arrived. I’m feeling super excited about…Everything! We all get off the plane and surprisingly it’s pretty cold and windy. We met a very kind young woman named Kalen on the plane and gave her a ride all the way to San Pedro de Atacama in the truck we rented. The ride up was not that interesting, though we saw some huge windmills. As we arrived we were kind of lost, but we managed to find our way. We checked into our hotel room. And when I say room, I mean one single room. Then we went to a restaurant called “Todo Natural” (Everything Natural) for lunch. Since we got up early and knew we would be up late, alll we really did was take a nap and swam in the FREEEEEEZING pool. After our rest we got ready to go to the “Valle de la Luna” (Valley of the Moon) to watch a beautiful sunset on Rosh Hashanah night. The view was wonderful and it was the perfect way to spend our first night. As we arrived home, we got ready to go stargazing. More on that by Dylan.

Day 2 – Monday September 14, 2015

We woke up to a simple breakfast. We put on our bathing suits, sunscreen, and clothes, hopped in the truck, and hit the road. It was not a long way before we arrived at the THERMAL BATHS (Las Termas de Puritama)!!! We put our stuff in a locker and slid into the pools. And they were amazing! To just feel the water was so cool! Or should I say “warm”. We swam over to a little waterfall that separated the pool from the others. It was really awesome because each end of the pool had a waterfall with water coming down from the higher pool and going down into the lower pool. And there were eight pools! But one was reserved. The waterfall was so cool. You could feel the water’s power pushing against you. And there was a little cavern behind it where you could sit and watch the water flow right in front of you. We spent some time there and then had lunch at a little picnic area. We had lunch and were finishing up when we saw MY TEACHER and her family!!! We swam with them and played with her four-year old son, Leo. We talked about Brazil (which is were they come from), the U.S., and Chile. We finished up our swimming, got changed, and got in the truck. As we drove, we came across a canyon that we decided to explore. We hopped out of the truck, got our sunscreen on, and started our walk. At first it was pretty flat. We crossed the river, which is kind of surprising, but figured out that it was the same stream that came from the thermal baths. The hike was amazing. I loved it. Most of the time we were walking downhill along the stream, but sometimes we crossed precarious little bridges over the water. It was really cool. Sometimes my dad and mom weren’t really sure we could get across, but my brother and I always found a way. We got help from a tour guide of another group, and from some people swimming and sunbathing in the river. We went pretty far before we decided to head back. Most of us were tired, but I had a lot of energy. That night we went out to a delicious place for dinner called Adobe, and then got an amazing ice cream cone for dessert. We went to bed and BAM! we were asleep.

Day 3 -Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Today we drove a much farther distance. We hopped into the truck and started to head to the Lagunas Antiplánicas (high plane lakes). We saw so much wildlife on the way up. We saw lots of vicuñas and a cute fox. At the lakes we saw mostly birds. Some tagua, Andean seagulls, and other species. The lakes were beautiful and an amazing blue green color. We didn’t really go up to the water, except Dylan accidentally walked off on his own toward the lake. Unfortunately, Dylan was feeling sick so he did not walk out very much with us. But my mom and I stayed together and we had a really awesome time. We used the binoculars and our camera. It was really fun. After a roadside lunch in Socaire, we drove to Lake Chaxa, a salt lake. It was amazing. We were walking on salt! We walked on a path that brought you to one small lake were we could see the brine shrimp which is what makes flamingos pink. We also saw a bunch of flamingos, but only from a distance. We drove all the way to San Pedro de Atacama, hung out there a little, and then got dinner. We were looking for a place that had soup to help Dylan recover. We went to this one place and they said they had chicken soup, but then the waiter came to take our order and they said they didn’t. So luckily we walked away and found a small but good restaurant called Sol (Sun). I got a tres quesos (three cheese) pasta, my brother got vegetable soup, and my parents shared a salad and churrasco sandwich. We went back to our favorite ice cream place, and again, it was delicious. We walked to our room and went to bed – all of us were tired.

Day 4 – Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Today was our last day. That didn’t stop us from going on an adventure. We woke up to a bowl of cereal. Again. Today was our day to . . . SANDBOARD!!!!!!!!!! My mom, Dylan, and I got into a van that would take us to Valle de La Muerte (Valley of the Dead). Our instructor told us some legends of how this valley was named. He also told us a little about the area. After we arrived, we hiked all the way up to the top of the dune, put our boards down, and one by one, went down the hill. It was amazing! At first you get a little scared. But then you’re fine and you want to do it over and over and over again. The only problem was how steep the dunes were. But we had the time of our lives. My dad was back at the hotel packing while my mom was taking photos of us. After sandboarding, as if that were not enough, we got ready to go to the Rainbow Valley. And it was amazing. The mountains were all different colors. I saw rocks that were red, green, brown, purple, white, etc. We went there for a little while before it was time to go. We hopped in the truck and drove to the airport and that was it. Our Atacama adventure was over… At least for now.

In conclusion, the way I look at life has changed. I see the world in a whole new way. I have seen things not many people will get the chance to see. I have started to appreciate things more. And I have learned to wait and observe. I think differently about something and not just the way I see it up front. I’ll probably never be the same. It’s funny how that happens sometimes. One small thing can change your life. And I hope everyone has that chance.

By Dylan Kelemen

Space is a place humans can observe from a distance on our tiny planet called Earth. (OK, fine, it’s big.) A lot of astronomers travel to the Atacama Desert of Chile because there are clear skies and it gets exceptionally dark at night. Perfect for viewing the night sky. This is why A.L.M.A. was built in such a location. A.L.M.A. includes both a place where special telescopes are made, and an observatory with an array of telescopes 15 kilometers across! Too bad it’s only for scientists.

We arrived in San Pedro de Atacama on Sunday, September 13th and had plans to observe outer space in this very special place. As ten o’clock (pm) rolled around, we headed out of our hotel to pick up our bus. The bus took us to an area outside of town where nine telescopes were set up to view various objects in outer space. As we left the bus we met out tour guide astronomer named Les. He gave us a great lecture on constellations and other objects in space using a laser pointer that could precisely pinpoint what he was highlighting. In his lecture, he informed us about some amazing facts while making some cheesy astronomer jokes. Here’s a good one: “I was up all night wondering where the Sun had gone… then it dawned on me.” Something he joked about was that he is Canadian and had just moved to Chile because in Canada there were 300 cloudy nights, and in his first year in Chile there were 340 clear nights.

We also saw a ton of shooting stars, and Les told us that out in the Atacama there are about 10 shooting stars an hour. Shooting stars are bits of rock that burn up in the atmosphere, and most of them are the size of pebbles, but occasionally the shooting stars are bigger. There are others that are HUGE, and when those hit Earth’s surface, they wipe out the entire population of the world. Like what happened to the dinosaurs. If there is ever a huge meteor coming your way, don’t run. Take a selfie and post it on instagram or Facebook because it will be the last thing you’ll ever do. #I’mabouttodie

One thing I learned is that the sun, moon, other planets and constellations of the zodiac all rotate around earth in one band. Les showed us the band and pointed out the different constellations. He named a few constellations and pointed his laser at the ground (!) indicating that those constellations were on the other side of the Earth’s night sky.

Les did a great job of teaching the group about the different constellations in the zodiac and how different cultures see them and interpret them. The best story he told us was about Scorpio. Scorpio is one of the easiest constellations to see in the night sky and also the biggest that we observed without “hallucinating” a bit. There were some huge constellations that were bigger than Scorpio, but you had to use your imagination a lot to see how the stars connected up into a picture. Scorpio is very easy to see. At night. OBVIOUSLY. It looks like a regular scorpion with its head and pincers in the front. You can see the enormous tail reaching up into the sky.

What pictures would you see in these same stars in another part of the world? In New Zealand, would you EVER find a wild scorpion? No. That is why the Maori looked at the stars and saw a fishhook (the tail) instead of a scorpion. They had no idea what a scorpion was, and they were also fisher-people. So they named that constellation Fish Hook and used it in their creation story. The story was that their god had taken the fishhook, put a drop of his own blood on it and tossed it into the sea. As legend tells, that hook caught a fish bigger than any fish humans have ever seen before, and that fish became the north island of New Zealand.

Once the lecture was over, Les took us to nine different telescopes pointed at different objects in space, some “near” and some really, really, REALLY far. One of these telescopes is the largest telescope open to the public in South America, and it was pointed to a star cluster above the Magellanic Clouds. The Magellanic Clouds are irregular dwarf galaxies that might be orbiting the Milky Way. Another telescope was pointed to view the great planet of Saturn with its many rings. My favorite was seeing a white dwarf (a dead star) that had emitted a visible veil of gas and dust fogging out the surrounding stars. At the end of the tour, we circled up to drink hot chocolate, tea, or coffee, and ask Les any questions we had. What do you call an alien with three eyes? An Aliiien!

White dwarf – A dead star – http://ircamera.as.arizona.edu/NatSci102/NatSci102/images/sun_whit.gif

Magellanic Clouds – Irregular dwarf galaxies – http://www.asnsw.com/sites/default/files/karenw/photos/images/txh-magellanic.jpg

 

by Matt Kelemen

Look around a café or a meeting room or a subway car and find all the people over 40 years old. Then ask yourself this. How many of them have been imprisoned for their beliefs? Or had their mothers or uncles or grandmothers disappear forever? How many of them recently returned after long exiles, finally convinced that it was safe to come home? How many of them are the sons of army officers who ordered political prisoners to be tortured in dark jail cells? Or the daughters of soldiers who carried out those odious orders? Grim thoughts, I know. In the cafés and meeting rooms I inhabited in San Francisco, I didn’t think to ask the question (even though I’m sure I came across more than a few people in one or more of these categories).

But here, any given crowd in an elevator or a movie theater or a supermarket is filled with people who suffered losses and pain during seventeen years of military dictatorship, right alongside people who were party to those atrocities, maybe even committed them. What must it be like? What goes through your head? I put that question to an older friend who fled with his family in 1973 and came back after the return of democracy in 1990. Some of his acquaintances from college days invite him over to homes where portraits of Pinochet hang prominently. With them, he says, “I don’t talk about it.”

Of course, there are many who have talked about it. Some have dedicated their lives to seeking justice for the crimes of the Pinochet regime. They’ve written indelible songs and books. They’ve built a museum of memory; one visit there and you leave with the words “never again” on your tongue. They’ve brought military men to trial, trying in vain to put Pinochet himself behind bars. Others have focused on building a new society. They’ve won elections at all levels of government; the President was a political prisoner after the coup, as were some members of her cabinet. They’ve passed policies to rein in the free market and raise the standard of living for poor people, using education as a major lever for change. And they’ve been in power for all but four of the last twenty-five years. Their political coalition is aptly named the New Majority.

But now, the voices of the Right are rising again, telling the same story they told before overthrowing Allende. From behind the gates and electrified fences of their houses, they cheer when the police send surveillance balloons into the skies above their pristine exurbs (it’s a truly Orwellian sight to behold). From their corner offices, they complain that the government’s reforms — more rights for workers, more funding for education and health care — are depressing the economy that they had carefully built through decades of free market policies. It is resonant of the narrative that Pinochet and his minions propagandized to great effect: “The dangerous leftists are ruining our country and it is up to us to save Chile by any means necessary. If we have to cross some uncomfortable lines, it’s for the greater good. The alternative is too terrible to consider.” For those of means, it is a powerful and compelling narrative. But it is also a narrative of privilege, one that gives its listeners license to overlook terrible things that many Chileans have endured.

I have been thinking a lot about the narrative of privilege as I read the news from the States. Like the story of Kim Davis, the clerk of Rowan County, Kentucky who refuses “on God’s authority” to affix her name to legal documents allowing gay people to marry. To her fervent supporters, Kim Davis is a victim. The marriage laws changed and, all of a sudden, she is being told to do something that cuts against her core beliefs as a Christian. In response, the Right is apoplectic. Put aside all of the hucksters who are using her for their own ends — the politicians like Mike Huckabee who need a way to stay in the headlines and the lawyers at Liberty Counsel who need to gin up more clients — and focus instead on the true believers, those conservative Christians who truly think that Kim Davis is facing the worst form of discrimination. Are they bigots? Probably (some, certainly). But for some, maybe it’s just that they’ve always had the privilege to live in a system that preferences their beliefs. To be a Christian in America is to have government and businesses close on your sabbath; it is to have your prayers said before Friday night football games; and it is to have your religious holidays and customs secured in Federal law. Never mind that whole classes of people are denied rights and privileges because the laws are written in your favor. All of those people are simply invisible… until they are at your desk demanding their Supreme Court-endorsed right to get married.

And so it goes with the Right’s reaction to Black Lives Matter, the movement borne out of several high-profile killings of black people by police. The movement has made public some very disturbing facts about how black people experience law enforcement. Police are being shown as bad actors and our system of justice is being exposed as demonstrably unfair. And again, the Right is apoplectic, with commentators going to great lengths to blame the victims of police violence, deny that systemic racism exists, or shift the conversation away from race. When it comes to dealing with the police in America, it sure must be nice to believe, based on your personal experience with law enforcement as a white person, that the system works as intended to keep people safe and treat them fairly. Never mind that that’s simply not true for people of color. All of those people are simply invisible… until a video shows one of them getting shot in the back by a police officer.

Sometimes the narrative of privilege is loud, ugly and absurd, including most things uttered by Donald Trump. Other times, it’s a deafening silence, like a year going by without anyone being accountable for the death of 12-year-old Tamir Rice at the hands of a police officer. But mostly it’s mundane, quotidian, like the regular warnings I get to “watch my pockets” if I’m planning to go to downtown Santiago or to the Bayview in San Francisco. And that’s what makes it so insidious.