The House that Neruda Built

I remember you as you were in the last autumn. 

You were the grey beret and the still heart.

In your eyes the flames of the twilight fought on.

And the leaves fell in the water of your soul.

-Pablo Neurda

I saw the hand-written verse of the poem "I Remember You as You Were" at Pablo Neruda's house here in Santiago. [sigh] What a Love Poet he was.

Neruda is Chile's Mr. Poet. He won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1971. Wait, that sounds too dry. Let me try it more poetically: From his soul a river of fanciful words did run / For this the highest honor he won

Neruda built a house at the bottom on Saint Cristobal Hill for himself and his lover-turned-wife. The inside of the house resembles a ship's hold, everything is thick, dark wood and low ceilings. There are wooden carvings from the south Pacific, modernist paintings, and a trio of big--I think freaky--dolls in one of the bathrooms. He purposely had small tables so that people would draw near one another and have good conversations.

I visited the house turned museum with my friend Magda. It was a lovely spring day, the type that gets you thinking, softly about summer. We both showed up in summer dresses and sunglasses.

After, I said, "It's the perfect day for sangria." and she finished with "Do you want to go to 100 Montaditos?" To which I replied gleefully, truly, "Yes!"

We drank sangria on the second floor terrace, people watching from above. We smiled conspiratorially as we both admitted to sometimes pausing and saying, "I can't believe I live in Chile."

As we left, I found myself thinking that is was also the perfect day for ice cream. Magda beat me to it, by asking if I wanted to stop at McDonald's for some. They have walk-up windows, and a cone is only 45 cents! I am tickled by this and get them often. We sat in the sun on the steps of a university building to eat.