If it looks like vacation... and smells like vacation...

In Chile, every pack of cigarettes is branded on both sides with black warning labels courtesy of the Ministerio de Salud (Department of Health). On the pack I´m studying (Pall Mall – Krystal Frost), the black box of doom entirely covers half the surface area. On one side, for example, the top half – white with green lettering – reads “Si de pronto te inunda una sensación fría que no conocías, estás bajo el efecto Krystal Frost. Más que mentol, frescura instantánea.” (If you feel a rush of cool sensation like you´ve never known before, you´re under the effect of Krystal Frost. More than menthol, instant freshness.) Directly under this declaration, the schizophrenic cigarettes warn, “El humo del tabaco se impregna en todo tu cuerpo y te mata día a día.” (Tabacco smoke penetrates your entire body and kills you one day at a time.) Wow, mixed messages, right? How do I know which part of the pack to trust, the top or the bottom? Since the color black often represents pure evil and is generally worn by the bad guys (Darth Vader) and green is the color of trees and life and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, I´m inclined to believe the part about freshness. Oh but wait, there´s more. The other side of the pack has something to say, “Estos cigarillos te causan cancer, infartos, enfisema, dañan tu boca, tus dientes y todo tu organismo.” (These cigarettes give you cancer, heart attacks, emphysema, and hurt your mouth, your teeth, and your entire organism.) Here´s the kicker though: the photograph of crooked, yellow teeth and brown, receding gums. If you´ve ever been to the dentist, you´ve seen this cautionary horror show – headless mouths with the smiles of pirates and witches, silently shouting at children, “Brush your teeth, little one, or I´ll be visiting you every time you look in the mirror! Muwhahaha!” It´s really frightening. I tried to photograph it for you – words just can´t quite do it justice – but my camera would not focus properly. I have owned this camera for five years now and never had this problem before. I tried many times and with various lighting schemes, and each time the photo came out blurry. Do you realize what this means? My camera is alive. The so-called “auto-focus” feature is not some soulless computer built to do my bidding. My camera chooses when to focus and on what. And its strategy for coping with obscene images of oral health is exactly the same as mine – blur the sight.

My feelings on the campaign are mixed. While my lungs are pretty tired of all the smoke in public places, I doubt that the warnings or image have much of an effect; who starts smoking by window shopping? Furthermore, I don´t think that anyone – with the possible exception of criminals committing crimes related to teeth or oral hygiene – should be subjected to this image. I´m not sure what the exact definition of torture is – we´d have to consult Donald Rumsfeld for clarification on this – but repeated exposure to images of rotting mouths meets my definition. I guess my takeaway from all of this is a newfound appreciation of the laws back home that ban smoking in bars, restaurants, and other public places. Oh, and on a related note, here`s an interesting statistic: according to a book (presumably researched), breathing Santiago air is equivalent to smoking 60 cigarettes a day. In all fairness, that number is based on the air quality in winter - the worst of the year thanks to a lack of wind. Still, if I worked for the Ministerio de Salud, I know what my priority would be...

If you read the entry titled “A Departure”, you´ll recall my ongoing struggle to define this trip, to label it with one word that has a commonly understood meaning in the English language. It would make life easier. “Studying abroad”, for example, produces fewer follow-up questions than “umm, I don´t know”, which can be especially useful if you want to convince someone – like an airline official or immigrations officer – that you don´t plan to stay in their country forever. I previously explained that none of the obvious options – studying, working, vacation – seemed appropriate. Well, I´m not so sure anymore, so I´ll let you decide for yourself. The following list outlines, with the percent probability in parentheses, what I might be doing if you chose a random moment to observe my life in Santiago:

• Sleeping (41.67%)
• Eating (13.67%)
• Shielding vulnerable grass from dangerous UVA and UVB rays (7.33%)
• Napping (6%)
• Doing anything that will help me avoid another nap (8%)
• Yoga or meditation (10.33%)
• Worrying about the future (3%)
  

If you checked my math – and you´re reasonably adept at addition – you noticed that the total doesn´t add up to 100. That was intentional. The percentages reflect the fact that I´m not currently living at 100%. If you´ve ever heard the old cliché about giving 110% and wondered how that is even possible, this is the explanation; it´s simply using the surplus life force from times when you were only living at 90%. I haven´t decided yet what I´m saving up for, but I´m leaning towards a week on Mocha Island. Yes, Mocha Island actually exists. I know it sounds like the straight-to-garage-sales sequel to Candy Land, but it´s actually a piece of land in the Pacific Ocean, 34 kilometers from the coast of Chile. Its size is 14 km by 6 km, which makes it just big enough for a lighthouse. Although it is the second oldest lighthouse in Chile, it apparently should have been older. Legend (and presumably scuba diving) says that the island is to shipwrecks as Saturn is to little pieces of rock and ice. Needless to say Mocha Island had me at the word mocha. My guess – educated in the sense that I know the definition of mocha – is that this magical island has beaches of pure chocolate, which are lapped by a sea of coffee (presumably run-off from Colombia). Where sand and sea meet, a foamy mocha surf forms. I can´t decide whether to bring a cup or a straw…