The Strayer clan has been gloriously reunited in an Andean adventure (sadly, minus Forbie), which nearly resulted in a fatal downpour deep in the central mountains of Siete Tazas. Linda, Ricardo and Alisa arrived early Saturday morning for a six day visit. Here's what happened:

Easter was celebrated with a large feast of fish and wine. We spent several hours dining with my Chilean mom and sister at Azul Profundo in the quaint, colorful neighborhood of Bellavista. Linda was laughing gregariously and "Ricardo" chimed in with "yo entiendo todo," every few minutes. Post-dinner, I headed to Plaza Italia with my two moms, to attend a midnight Easter Vigil.

Now, to give a bit of context, the only Easter service I've ever attended was last year in Wisconsin with the joyous Moerke family. I recall three (or so) hours of burning myself with dripping candle wax, writing secret messages with the crispy wick, and generally misbehaving. This year's gathering was a slight modification of the only proper Easter I've ever known... It was outdoors, for one, "performed" on a large stage downtown with several thousand attendees. To get things started, the former Miss Chile strutted on stage, accompanied by a priest and several scantily clad dancers. The following mayhem included nothing of silence, prayer or sermon. It was, instead, a three hour brouhaha of dancing, confetti throwing and screaming -- rather like a northamerican New Year.

Alisa, Mom, Dad and I packed up the little white rental car the next morning to hike the high mountains of Siete Tazas (literally, seven teacups, which are the famous waterfalls of the park)... the clouds became more ominous and as we pulled up to our cabaña (after 2 hours on a pockmarked, craterlike path/road, getting directions from an amicable young Chilean who jumped in our car to accompany us, and being laughed out of town for requesting coffee to go), a good 5 miles from any settlement, it began to pour. It rained continuously for the next 15 hours, and by morning, we had to forge a washed away mudslide of a road, across a treacherous popsicle stick bridge over the raging gorge below. The sedan barely hauled through the four foot deep puddles, and we fishtailed most of the way down the mountain, but we finally arrived to a much more tranquil Santa Cruz.

This luxury hacienda was much more to Linda's liking, and we were rejuvenated with hot showers, food and the comfort of subtitled tv. Again, we devoured a fine spread of sea bass and scallops, roast pork, seaweed and crab salad, and carmelized bananas. Full and content, we strolled about the plaza, bought some raw wool from the market and spent the rest of the evening knitting (I learned from Alisa) and watching My Best Friend's Wedding in spanish.

We have finally returned to the smog haven of Santiago. Finished off the night with yet another hearty meal at Como Agua Para Chocolate, the mexican-inspired genuis of a restaurant. And now, tengo tuto. Me voy a la cama... ¡chao!