I got on a plane and went to India. It was a wild week: two days of travel, my arrival to this dusty, hot place, autorickshaw rides, the Taj Mahal, interviews, my head full of honking, streets filled of people and cars, markets full of sounds, smells and shiny jewellery. Glorious spice. Two days home again and I feel asleep like a baby. Hours later, at 3:34 a.m. on February 27, the country woke up with a bang. It’s been a rollercoaster ride ever since.
Like concerns over Pinera’s ties to Pinochetistas and big business, nearly everything before that moment was forgotten. For now. Thankfully, however, I took a few photos; it wasn’t just a dream.
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