3 posts tagged “chile”
Last night Fernando took me to his favourite Mexican restaurant, where he sang boisterously along with the mariachi while I poured tequila down my throat and smiled idiotically. I asked Fernando what the best kind of pisco was and he said the only criterion for good pisco was its proof, i.e. the proof of the pisco is in the proof. Then we got into Fernando’s truck and drove to a nightspot called Brooklyn’s English Pub, where I drank 46% pisco and munched on popcorn while we waited for the band to come on. The band came on at midnight, by which time the place had filled up quite a bit, and opened bizarrely with Radiohead’s ¨Karma Police¨, before giving it large with the Chilean rock classics, and of course a U2 song, de cuyo nombre no quiero acordarme. We were sitting right in front of the band; the bassist could have pissed in my pisco. But I don’t think he did.
I am whizzing round hairpins in a truck driven by my host, Fernando. Fernando’s son has put together a mix CD of his favourite gravel-voiced crooners, which mingles cacophonously with the pained squealing of the tires. ¡Manejes rápido, Fernando!, I say. You drive fast!
You think I drive fast? I see trees of green, red roses too You must see me five years ago. I was crazy man! I see them bloom for me and you I drived - drive-ed? - faster than everyone! And I think to myself, what a wonderful world But after I kill the burro I say “enough”. I see skies of blue and clouds of white I kill a horse, too, and goats - many goats. The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night But after the burro - how you say? - I change my ways. And I think to myself, what a wonderful world I was going one hundred fifty kilometers per hour. The colours of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky My friend shout “burro!” It was 20 metres away! Are also on the faces of people going by You know burros - they don’t move! I turn the wheel fast! I see friends shakin’ hands, sayin’ “How do you do?” I hit the burro on the side - it spin round and round! They’re really saying “I love you” I thought I was dead man! I hear babies cryin’, I watch them grow When I get out of the truck - my legs they were wet, you know? They’ll learn much more than I’ll ever know I had piss-ed my pants! And I think to myself, what a wonderful world (singing) and I think to myself, what a wonderful world.
I am in Chile for a couple of weeks, surrounded by cacti and stray dogs.
The other night I went for a stroll just after sundown and noticed two stray dogs frolicking amorously on the otherwise deserted beach, as the moon, just past full, hung low over the hills to the east.
No se puede vivir sin amar - I’ve been reading Under the Volcano.
