August 30, 2011
I miss my little Ava Boo! She’s so adorable. These are from the last time I was home in June. By now, she has to be at least twice the size. Probably walking, talking and doing back handsprings by now. It makes me sad how quickly she grows up and how much I don’t see. I’m saying that, when in reality I’m so lucky that I’ve seen her 3 times since she was born. She’s only 8 months old, so that’s a pretty fair amount. But babies grow so quick. Every time I go back she has a new trick. She learns way quicker than Papi and Machasa 
Sorry for the short post. All of a sudden we’re down to the wire before our next trip and I’m swamped!
During this last trip to Paris, I was originally going to go alone. I was excited for the weddings because I’d talked to the couples enough to know that both brides and both grooms were were going to be awesome. But I wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of traveling solo. However, Seba needed to stay behind to work on the apartment.
I wrote that I’d be heading to Paris to shoot a wedding solo in one of my photography forums. A few days later an email popped up in my inbox from Leo Druker, a wedding photographer in Washington D.C. He saw that I’d be by myself and wanted to know if I need a second shooter in France. When I checked his website and saw where he was based I quickly emailed him to double check and find out if he knew that I’d said Paris and not Virginia. I thought maybe he was just messing with me. But Leo had never visited Paris before and said he’d always wanted to. He loves to visit new places all over the world and he’s an AMAZING travel photographer. So he offered to come be my second. I was thrilled, but to be honest, until he wrote me that he had his plane tickets confirmed, I didn’t believe him But yeah. BAM. Cool person #1 added to my “solo” trip.
Then about three weeks before I was supposed to leave, my good friend Ashley casually drops a bomb, “I think I’ll go on your Paris trip with you.” Yeah. Right. Do. Not. Believe. You. I believed her even less than I believed Leo. Because literally, her only reason for going along, aside from the fact that she loves me of course, was, “I need to renew my visa by leaving Chile again.” Most people take a seven hour bus ride to Mendoza, Argentina to do that.
About two more weeks passed, during which Ash kept mentioning things like, “When we go to Paris, ” and “During our Paris trip…” and I kept thinking she was lying. It’s not that I don’t trust Ashley. It’s that experience has taught me that most people don’t simply pick up and go to Paris on a whim. Experience has since taught me that most people don’t simply pick up and go to Pari on a whim…unless you’re Ashley Ambirge and you run a blog called The Middle Finger Project. About five days before my scheduled departure she bought her plane tickets — and managed to get on the same flights as me from Santiago to New York to Paris! BAM. Cool person #2 added to my “solo” trip.
It had been a long time since I’d had anyone other than myself and Seba to worry about while on the road. Traveling with someone can make or break a friendship. Considering how I didn’t even know Leo until we arrived at Charles de Gaulle and met him at the airport and that I’d only met Ash in Jan. of this year (and then proceeded to be out of the country for the next five months shortly after we first got together), I was a little nervous.
But all three of us are so laid back that it worked perfectly. Nobody had any crazy agendas. We all just wanted to walk around, hang out and drink some champagne. And YES. They both drank just as much champagne as me!!! HEART.
Sure, when in France, do as the Frenchmen do. But a lot of times I end up feeling really stupid drinking champagne when I’m with a big group of people and the guys pound their chests and order beers and then the women do the same because society tells us that men love women who love beer. That may be true, but I don’t like beer. And Seba still loves me.
Point being, it felt good to be amongst kindred spirits.
I had such a wonderful time with Ash and Leo.
Leo, come shoot a wedding with us in Chile. That’s a command. Ash, see you in a few days back at the Santiago airport. Never move away from Chile. That’s also a command.
Crazy awesome friends, heavy emphasis on crazy, thank you for coming with me.
Here are a few photos of our second day. This shot was taken near our beautiful hotel, which was located right by the famous Galeries Lafayette. Yeah, there was an Opera or something near the hotel too, but who cares about arts and culture when you have an entire basement of SHOES located right around the corner 
Ash has been in Chile with no respite for far too long so we spent the morning first doing some damage in H&M. SHOPPING. Yes! Don’t worry, Leo was spared. He was off doing his own thing.
My poison of choice is shoes, but I’m currently on a ban after buying two pairs of Pradas this year. That’s all the designer my budget can handle for now. And actually, even though Galeries Layfette has an entire floor dedicated to shoes, they have mostly safe and pretty boring choices as far as selection goes so I can honestly say, I wasn’t even tempted.
Same does not go for Ash when it came to the makeup department. That’s her poison of choice. The sweetest Dutch girl made her up while I marveled at the wonders of what good makeup can do for a person’s face. I mean, Ash has a gorgeous palette to begin with, but man, a little peach blush and all of a sudden she was glowing!
I don’t know why but I freaking love this shot of the Parisian metro.
I also love this photo of Ash on the metro.
We met up with Leo so we could make a Bastille Day plan!
Is there anything more French than macarons? — aside from this guy, of course. I took this picture especially for Heather. She’s written about macarons so much that she’s essentially become synonymous with the word for me. Now that’s some good branding.
Our plan consisted of going here and meeting up with some of Ash’s friends (hi Jamie!) for drinks. Lo and behold we ended up in a bar next to some Chilean men. WHAT ARE THE FREAKING ODDS?! It wasn’t the Chilean bar in Paris that we were at either. Lo and behold after less than five seconds after arrival, one of them whispered in my ear that I was beautiful. I was going to say something about that being classic Chilean men…but it’s not. Chilean men aren’t usually very aggressive. France must be influencing these guys’ Latin lover style. I didn’t even order a drink and just asked everybody if we could leave. I was starving anyways, so it was the perfect excuse to run far far away.
We headed to a nearby plaza and settled in to people watch the silly French people dancing. And me dancing There was the most random mix of music to help the Parisians celebrate Bastille day, and folks of all ages were rocking out hard on the streets.
Ash abandoned my champagne drinking quest and requested that the waiter kindly bring her a beer the size of her head. Of course the paparazzi had to photograph this event.
From there we walked to the Arch de Triumph. It was absolutely beautiful at night.
I think this picture is cool. Except maybe it’s not. I think it is because I was there and I know that literally a half second before this, these 5 people were all looking in different directions, and literally a half second after this they all walked away from the railing they were leaning up against. It was such a quick moment that they were all in sync like this. Maybe that’s why I think it was cool.
From the Arc de Triumph I headed back to the hotel. It was right around midnight and I had to get up the next day to go have breakfast at Le Royal Monceau with their marketing director. I know myself well and I know how poorly I function on little sleep so I decided to turn back while the rest of the group ventured on to go see fireworks and walk around the city in all the glory of Bastille Day. I got to the metro and immediately regretted my decision. I spent about 20 minutes going back and forth between maps trying to figure out which way to go. Then I asked a guy and his answer confused me more. I did eventually make it to the hotel. And when Ash didn’t get home until 5am because they couldn’t find a taxi, I realized I would’ve regretted the decision to stay out even more.
So this trip may not have been the most action packed trip that I’ve ever been on, but that was good. I was happy with what we saw and did. And most of all I was really happy that I got to know two extra awesome people.
August 28, 2011
I have exciting news! A picture I took was awarded as one of the top 141 images out of over 1500 photos submitted for a Fearless contest. I would so appreciate it if you could take two seconds to vote for it by liking it on Facebook. Link here. You have to first like the Fearless page to be able to like my picture. THANK YOU! I’m just trying not to embarrass myself with my little picture that up there in a gallery with photos taken by the big dogs!
Fearless is an organization that anyone can pay to join, but then you are listed according to the amount of awards you win. The pictures that win these contests are UNBELIEVABLE. Seriously, I’ve never seen a collection of more jaw dropping photos than I have on the Fearless website. They are usually photos that either have a totally unique perspective or composition, or else some kind of crazy creative use of light — or both. Going through the photos that have won awards is like a listing of my favorite photographers…Fer Juaristi, Anna Kuperberg, GetStak, to name a few. It is an absolute honor to see my name in that grouping and it blows my mind that my photo was chosen. Seriously. BLOWS. MY. MIND. I couldn’t even sleep after I found out, I was so excited. For me client recognition definitely comes before peer recognition — after all, it’s clients, not other photographers, who are keeping my business going, so pleasing them is always the number one goal. However, it also feels really good to be validated by other photographers. I’m happy The very special photo was taken at Mary and Marty’s very special wedding.
So point being, if you could like my photo on Facebook, that would be super cool of you!
On to a post about Chile.
I was robbed TWICE in the past two weeks! After not having been robbed for years and years in Santiago, I feel like I’ve just reverted completely back to Naive Gringa stage.
Now, both times weren’t true robberies, but they were enough to make me go back to feeling like I did when I first arrived in Chile — violated and confused (though significantly less angry now than I was back then when these things happened).
Robbery #1: The iPhone
I was coming home in the car with Seba. I got out and walked inside.
Once I sat down at the computer, I realized that I didn’t have my cell phone. I dumped out the contents of my purse. It wasn’t there. I went back to the entryway of the house to see if I’d left it there. I checked the bedroom where I’d changed and sifted through heaps of clothes to see if I’d dropped it. Nope. Nada. Seba went next door to have a look and see if it was in the car. The entire time we’d been calling it to listen for the ring tone if it was in the house but we didn’t hear it.
Seba called again. A male voice answered. This man had found my iPhone on the street right outside the house and I could have it back if I gave him 50,000 CLP (just over 100 bucks). Seba told him he’d call him back and came in to give me the bad news.
I burst into tears.
“Why won’t he just give it back? That’s mine! I paid for it! Call him back and tell him to be a good person!”
Seba told me that the good person argument wouldn’t work in Chile. I told him that one time in Barnes and Nobles I’d actually left my laptop sitting on a table and they used it to find my email to email me and tell me they had it and then held it in the lost and found until I came back and got it (a day later). I told him how I used to leave my Jeep Wrangler with the top down sitting in the parking lot of the hardware store where I worked, with the keys in the ignition, during my eight hour shift and nobody ever took it (though my co-workers did sometimes move it to mess with me when I would do that). Seba reminded me that things don’t generally work that way here. I insisted that he call the man back and tell him to be a good person. I was convinced that the man would see reason and realize he could not just ransom my cell phone from me because it is mine, not his.
Seba went outside to talk to him because he didn’t want me to hear that he was not, in fact, going to call this man and tell him to be a good person. Instead, Seba later told me that the conversation went a little something like this,
“Washito, si este no es Providencia, compadre, estamos en Estacion Central po,”
Buddy this isn’t Providencia (a wealthier neighborhood), man, we’re in Estacion Central (the poorer neighborhood where we live).
That swayed the man, and so he agreed to give it back for the sum of 25,000 pesos, half of what he wanted before. Seba went outside and made the exchange.
The thing that really pisses me off about all this, is that the man was probably convinced he was being a good person because he gave it back to us instead of just keeping it and selling it. Yeah, ransoming it back is a lot nicer and less costly for us than it would’ve been if he’d kept it and sold it, but c’mon. If you find something that’s not yours, you give it back. That’s the way the world should work.
Robbery #2: The wallet
A couple days ago, I was at home and picked up my purse to move it out of the way. I realized it felt a little lighter than it normally does so I looked inside and to see what was missing. I have a big wallet/passport holder thing (a beautiful Britto one) that I carry around when I’m traveling. When I am back in Chile I switch it out for a smaller wallet version of the same thing. However, since I just (haha) got back from France I hadn’t unpacked and put in the day to day use one yet so my big one was still in there. Until now. Again, I turned the house upside searching for it.
Then I remembered that a few days ago when I was in the metro, totally absorbed in my Kindle, I had looked down at one point and thought, “Oops! I must’ve accidentally left my purse open.” It seemed weird to me, because I don’t ever forget to leave close my purse — because you learn quickly that if you don’t close it, well-meaning Chileans on the street will start approaching you and telling you, poor gringa, that you’re going to get robbed. I think I close my purse more to ward off the danger of strange men on the street using open purse as an excuse to talk to me, than I do out of fear of actually being robbed.
Anyways, I zipped it back up, but it didn’t even occur to me that anyone had taken anything out of it.
When I put two and two together a few days later, at first I was really worried — I thought that I would have to cancel all my credit cards and fight off fraudulent charges, etc. You all know how much of a pain in the ass that is.
But then I checked my purse. I’m so unorganized and generally lazy that rather than put my credit cards back in the big wallet/passport holder thing, I’d thrown them back in random pockets in my purse. Safe. No credit cards cards missing.
Then I realized that my carnet (Chilean ID card was probably in there). The thought of that being stolen makes me literally want to go James Franco on my office.
But after shuffling through my desk drawers I realize I’ve accidentally not been carrying around my carnet and had left it at home (bad faux Chilean, bad! You need those for everything here).
Saved by my unorganized/laziness again.
The only thing I lost was my U.S. driver’s license, which was the lone item left in the entire wallet.
I bet the thief was disappointed.
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