"Don't bury burn throw or held your waist. Bring in back."

-- the english translation of some advice from an alpinist club in Bariloche

If I start you off with such a quote, it is only because much has happened and I am unsure where to begin the recollections. The feeling is akin to when, sitting in preparation for a dinner at a hostel, the host tells me in a very important voice that "the newspaper read like an alligator on crutches". I'm sure he was saying something profound, and I worked really hard to understand, but ended up with a headache. With Zen koans like these, who needs proper grammar. It wouldn't surprise me if such brainpretzels cause tumors.

I depart north to Santiago with a friend I've met, Jose. He's Chilean born but a Londoner at heart, and his added knowledge of Spanish has aided my research significantly. While in Castro we migrated to and fro the libraries, researching the mythologies of the island. A few of them qualify as worthy of mention, not because they are bonafide lake monsters, but because some of them share the same dynamic origins and evolutions.

For instance, many of them are variations of European myths. The Basilisco was our favorite, because it is a variation of a middle age story about a snake with a chicken head. As the legend goes, it hatches from an abnormally small egg of a chicken, then slithers its way under a house, where it hides until full grown. Upon sight of a full grown Basilisco, the witness is doomed to die, wracked with a dry cough. Originating around Greece in the middle ages, this story was used to explain the tragedy of death by tuberculosis, and the myth was revived upon European contact with the Mapuche in Chiloe, sustaining a few variations, which are still a bit difficult to decipher. What I find interesting is that the solution to kill the Basilisco is to lay Christian crosses in a room and toss some holy water. Formula: Disease + a well designed myth = vessel of religious conversion. There is some evidence that the Basilisca took root so well here because of the introduction of tuberculosis in addition to the preexistence of similar legends, such as Colo Colo, which are proving difficult to research.

Shortly before all of this, I ate a bad egg in Cucao and acquired a case of food poisoning. For the third time in South America I was bedridden for the better part of a day. Only days later would I be able to eat without care, chuckling to myself the ironic hypothesis that I must have eaten a 21st century egg of a Basilisca. At the time, it was bloody awful. But now I can reflect on it armed with such humor.

Now I have more or less recovered. I continued the research to find a Chiloe reference to El Cuero (the leathery one) which is actually an alias for Nahuelito! This leads me to believe that the legend of Nahuelito stretches much farther back than the commercial manipulations of Martin Sheffield, the gold prospector that encouraged the hunt for an Argentine plesiosaur in the 1920's. Here in Chiloe, they have their own legend of the same water monster, of the name Threquelhuecuvu. This is an unexpected and very propitious find. There is a possibiity that this Mapuche legend is fundamental to the origin of Nahuelito. However, it should be recognized that the Mapuche are a distinctly recent culture, arising almost in synchronicity with the Spanish expansion. Many of the Mapuche "mythologies" are in fact, modified versions of European myths. Hence, this leads to an interesting possibility that when Nahuelito was influencing the Loch Ness resurgence of the 1930's, Nessie might be, in essence, an imitation of an South American imitation of a European legend. And so the circle goes... I'm ecstatic. Aren't you?

Anyway, Castro and its colorful corrugated iron homes have treated me well, but it is time to move onward. My research in Bariloche is complete and I am simply making the circuit back to Buenos Aires where I will employ its larger libraries for the pursuit of Nahuelito's history. In the meantime, I've revived my hobby of photography. Chile is a beautifully photogenic place. My farewell from Chiloe was a stunning double rainbow, with the lyrical pot of gold resting at a modest house on the point of a peninsula. Fishing boats launched nearby for a sunset troll. I am grateful, for it was beyond the natural rules of chance for such a sight... Ahh, but that is a philosophic precipice which I will not belabor now....

Instead, I leave you with the Spanish translation of Coca Cola's slogan: "Disfruta" (in Ingles: "Enjoy"). Down with orange juice! Drink Coke!

Ok I'll stop. Salud!