Bobby McArthur
Aqui va!Well, I've been caught up at last! Thanks Donny for having forwarded this note from all and sundry Chuquicamatinos. Being my flojo self haven't even
bothered to let anyone know what my latest headrest at the moment. For my sins it's Kalamazoo..... After having lived and worked in Toronto (4 years), London
UK (9 years), Paris (1 year), Milan (9 years), I feel somewhat like a bottle of cheap perfume!
Nevertheless, my time in Milan came to a sharp end when the company I work for (Pharmacia & Upjohn) closed my research lab. I guess I shouldn't complain
because I was the only one of my colleagues that was asked to transfer over to Michigan and continue my research. It's a bit odd though being back in America
after 20 years, the European sun and cafe life is a terribly strong magnet (not to mention an Italian fiancee in Basel) and I think that I will carpetbag here in
Yankilandia for a little while yet before I head back to decent cheese and chocolates!
Gracias por tus sentimientos de rencuentro. Has estado muy gentil en tu mensaje de bienvida! Y gracias tambien por las fotos que te mando Laddie. Aunque trato
de volver a Chile al menos una vez cada dos años, en realidad me quedo en Santiago y en Copiapo. Han pasados tantos años desde la ultima vez que estuve en
Antofagasta o Chuqui! Al menos por estas fotos veo que las cosas no han cambiado tanto, no?
Pues, como puedes ver, no me he perdido, pero si que he vagado un buen poco por los cuatro rincones del mundo. A veces se me hace un problema
especialmente con el idioma. Asi es que si se me sale una frase or palabra en italiano o frances, es que se me mesclan todos... Y si, se que me faltan unos accentos
y la "enye" falta, pero que se le puede hacer si nuestros primos gringos no los tienen en el tablero English (US). Bien, al menos no tengo que escribir con un tablero
frances AZERTY en vez de QWERTY.
Vaya, no sabes cuanto me pides cuando escribes, "Send me your bio, man! Tell us about your life."! En estos tiernos años de 48 años de vida y tres continentes
tendre un buen poco de contarte. Pero viendo las fotos que has enviado en tus ultimos dos emails, se me esta sugeriendo una forma de como lo podre hacer. Asi es
que en varios "instalments" te ire contado mis cosas con algunas fotos para ilustrar mis andanzas.
Cierto que si tu me recuerdas como uno de los squirts (esquinqles?!), yo me recuerdo de ti como una de las companeras de mi hermano, y como tu te das cuenta,
en esos años una distancia de 4 o 5 parecen una eternidad. Pero como continuamos a crecer conforme a las leyes de entropia, tales diferencias se vienen achicando
y la unica diferencia importante se reduce a contar el numero de canas en la cabeza. Bien, si como "squirt" me recuerdas, tal vez es muy apropiado que empezamos
este "biopic" con la foto que ya te habia
mandado anteriormente (Broths1) en la cual se me ve muy aterrorizado del flash de la maquina fotografica (Creo que el Dr Cortes era el fotografo) con mis
hermanos que tratan de hacer finta que yo no estoy.
Parece que se me paso el terror de las fotos porque al pasar de los años me dejaba escapar una sonrisa o dos (Ybob).  Estos eran los tiempos cuando empezaba a
jugar a los cowboys con Nord y Dana Smithberg, Johnnie Bosse, Jorge Maitland, Jorge Canelas, Peter Woodbridge, Lucho Leon y tantos mas que mi demencia
incipiente me impide recordar al momento. Eran tambien los años cuando me daba cuenta que los chiquillos y chiquillas eran hechos de una forma un poco
diferente. Pero seria una descortesia defundir los nombres de mis companeras con quien jugabamos a los doctores y enfermeras, No? Sin embargo, me recuerdo
con ternura la Trissie Price, la Susan Bosse, la Baba, Christine y la Vicky Woodbridge, Patti Valenzuela, La Lorna, la Marjorie Horber.... Curioso que mi
demencia es tan selectiva, no? De todos modos, gracias a Dios que tenia tan buenos companeros y companeras porque mi breve "flirt" de travestido duro bien
poco (Carnv). Adivina cual de estas "divas" soy yo!
Bien, me pase los años en Chuqui como tantos otros esperando el dia cuando por fin podria escapar y andar al internado como todos los "big ids" -Que necios
fuimos, no?- Y por las buenas o por las malas, Bill Bashor y Len Miller por fin se deshicieron de mi y a patadas me echaron al mundo (Graduati).
 Yo me fui
inocente y tranquilo a Ottawa en Canada donde me pase tres años Dickensianos, pero a veces me diverti.(HG) Claro que cuando volvia a Chile para aquellas
vacacciones eternas de fiestas, giras por el desierto, "hanging out at the Club", cinema al teatro Chile, bailes los domingos al Club, pololeos furtivos.... me hacia el
buen macho y, puchas que era buenmozo en esos tiempos (Bobch1)!
Que puedo decirte de mis años universitarios? Considerando que entre a la universidad con toda la intencion de estudia medicina, me toco justamente iniciar mis
estudios en setiembre de 1968. La cerveza y la marijuana se me mesclo y descubri de nuevo que existian las mujeres! Vaya que sorpresa despues de tres años
internos... Sin entrar en los pormenores, mis ideas de medicina se fueron volando, y como buen hijo de los sesenta me puse a estudiar (?) psicologia, escribir versos
que comparaba favorablemente a las
de Neruda:-
"Cuando en noches de velo empiezo a pensar
en la patria lejana y mitica;
tierra arida y solitaria
como el riachuelo que busca al mar
vuelve a ti mi pensar.
Tu, como el viento de la pampa
que apacigua el calor sofocante del sol norteno
vienes a dar sosiego a mi alma turbulenta..."
y parti en un viaje de descubrimiento personal que a mi avanzada edad aun sostengo (Windsor).
High School Graduation
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Frances Swain
Frances and Steven
After an extraordinary childhood in Chuqui, a few
years at boarding school in Santiago at Dunalastair, and a period of time
studying in Switzerland and working in London in the 60's, I married early
and found myself transported to Melbourne, Australia with my Aussie husband
Ian White, and a 4 week old son, Andy, born in London in 1968. We called
in to Chuqui en route to visit my parents for 3 months before settling down
to married life in Melbourne. That was to be my last visit home for 27
years.
During the following 20 years of my first marriage, we had more children:
two daughters, Selena, born in 1970, and, Caroline who was born in 1976.
Those were the busy years of parenting and making a home. I trained as a
Yoga teacher and taught Hatha Yoga classes in between babies' naps and other
"-gaps"-. I also began an arts degree, majoring in psychology, 20th century
literature, Italian and philosophy. (photo of Pancha on snow) This was
another "-gap"- activity.- Thank goodness for my wonderful mother who
willingly baby-sat and enabled me to fulfil one of my ambitions. She had
moved to Melbourne from Chuqui during 1971. My parents had separated and Dad
found himself ultimately in Iran, working on a smelter project. He ended up
leaving Iran in the mid seventies and ended up in the States, until 1981
when he re-joined my mother here in Melbourne. Tragically, my mother died
of pancreatic cancer three years later. Another of my ambitions had been
to open my own cooking school which I did for couple of years until due to
my own ill health I had to stop. It took several years for my recovery and
my marriage to slowly disintegrate, and in 1990 Ian and I sadly separated
and ultimately joined the throngs of the divorced.
In all of this I came across a fascinating movement education course called
the Feldenkrais Method, and I knew I had finally found what it was I was
looking for. I commenced the training which went over 4 years and has
sustained me since. I now run a private practice and have become involved
in committee work at an international level, which is what enabled me to
visit the States in May of 1999. I wanted to catch up with Grace Osterberg
and other dear friends in Tucson, and combined my trip with a sojourn to
Tucson. Thank goodness for email
My first encounter with my previous life in Chuqui was a visit there in
1995. I turned 50 that year, and I knew that I had to return. Visions of
my childhood home, my grandparents' home in Iquique, inhabited my dreams for
so many years, I knew I had to return to complete a cycle in my life, get my
hands in that dirt. So I borrowed some money from the bank, took three
months off and found a tenant for my house in Melbourne and bought my
ticket. I had to go through Miami on this particular United ticket, and I
called into see some friends there. It was there that they introduced me to
Stephen... and what ensued was a truly amazing liaison with the soul mate I
had always hoped to find. (foto of Stephen and Pancha) Two years and many
emails later we married in Melbourne, and he immigrated from Germany where
he was living and working as a singer of Early Music and opera. Stephen is
originally from Montreal.
So, off I went to Chuqui, 9 days after meeting Stephen in Miami. Much of my
time in Chile was spent finding phone booths and fax machines to stay in
touch with him.- Flying from Miami to Chuqui was incredibly emotional for
me. And to surprise, when I woke up on the flight I looked out of the
window and saw that Atacama expanse - the Andes mountains fringing it. The
pilot then announced that we were flying over Antofagasta.- My heart took a
leap. I was home...
In Santiago, my cousin Patrick met me, recognizing what he called the "-Swain
smile"-. We hadn't seen each other since I was 17 and I was curious as to
how we would find each other at the airport. It's hard to describe my
sensations at that moment - the air had such a familiar smell . I knew
where I was and if I'd been blind-folded I would have known it was the mown
grasses of Santiago. The city itself was completely changed - I could have
been in Chicago. Everything looked so different, so prosperous, shiny.
Gone were the old houses around the school I attended, and instead,
luxurious 30 story apartment buildings were the norm. I walked around,
trying to get my bearings, finding Providencia as one of the few reference
points. Learning how to use the underground rail was fun. How to describe
the thrill of eating locos con mayonesa again.- Casuela de ave - picarones?
It's such an incredible feeling to find something familiar and to embody the
memories. It's better than an old pair of slippers.-
Soon it was time to go north to Anto, meet my friends Ted and Viv Cooper,
who had been working there in the mines for a couple of years. They were my
"base camp" and generously provided a four wheel drive to go up and visit
Chuqui and its environs. Viv and I packed up the truck and headed up the
road. In Calama we found the hosteria and stayed there to catch up with
sleep and terrible puna. I'd forgotten how unpleasant it was, and it had
never affected me like this before.
Calama. Traffic lights? Phone booths, and supermarkets? Where were the
dusty dirt roads.- The Quinta del Bosque? Chuqui loomed in the distance.
The smelter chimney marking the spot. The construction of that first
chimney was how my father began his association with Anaconda two years
after World War II. The slag heaps were huge by the time I was there in
"-95. The mining camp was all but scoured out as part of the new findings
of copper. The pulperia still stood, and to my utter astonishment, the old
house we first lived in , near the pulperia, was still there, just in front
of Leslie Brown and Nilla Tadic. It had become the Club Rotario de
Chuquicamata. But the house still stood - soon to be demolished. The area
where the
Osterbergs lived was now the general office. It was fenced off and closed
to visitors. I explained to the guard that I had lived in Chuqui way back
in the 50's - hoping I might get through the gate, to explore. But he would
not let me through. There are guided "-tours"- of that area now, every Monday
at a certain time - but this was Saturday. The hospital was still there,
about to be demolished and replaced by a new one to be built in Calama. I
thought about all the times I'd been to that hospital and how proud we were
of it when it opened. Anyway, I met someone who took pity on me and who
invited us for a drink at the Club
Chilex - which had been transported to New Camp and was now the workers
club - complete with indoor swimming pool, and the old bar from the original
club Chilex. Mango sours have replaced pisco sours, and one was enough to
immobilize my brain.- We drove around New Camp, and somehow, I was done...it
was complete for me, it was so different that I could leave now, and there
was not a trace of melancholia as we drove down the hill to Calama. Without
our old friends, it was a different world. I was glad I'd come, and the
following day we set off for LaSana and San Pedro de Atacama.
To tell the truth, this next section of my journey was far more meaningful.
La Sana was exactly the same. Maybe a telephone line here or there - but I
sat on exactly the same plank of wood over the river that I sat upon as a
child, catching trout with the Hurleys, the Warrens, the Millers and my
parents. I dangled my feet in the freezing water, and we had a picnic under
an old pepper tree. This was heaven to me. We looked around the old Inca
ruins - which have placards now, describing the buildings and the
archeological diggings. It was searingly hot, breathless, and time stood
still for me. This was my real home-coming. We spent Christmas in San
Pedro, along with hundreds of French and German tourists - it felt really
weird to hear French spoken down at the hosteria.- I have such rich memories
of the times we'd camped and driven around that part of the Atacama. I
visited Chui Chiu, which has not changed at all. After a few weeks up in
that part of Chile, including Iquique, where my grand-parents and
great-grandparents had lived, and then I went down to Patagonia with an
Australian friend . We had wonderful adventures trying to walk up a mountain
that kept repelling us with fierce winds and freezing rain, even in January.
The scenery was truly breath-taking. I saw that part of Chile for the first
time in my life and thought it must surely be one of the most exquisite
parts of the world. I enjoyed catching up with Terry and Sandro Marini on
the way back to Santiago, and I left Chile a month later, with the strong
determination to return with Stephen one day.
I feel grateful for the exotic experiences, the fantastic network of
friends. I realize now what a safe environment we grew up in and how
fortunate we were not to be exposed to the environments of today's children,
fraught with t.v. violence, drugs and the struggle to keep up with peer
group pressure. Ours was a unique experience and I look forward with great
pleasure, to reading about everyone else's on-going lives. I'd like to
finish by acknowledging Grace Osterberg's passionate energy to link up the
threads of our lives, and to thank her for such a healing contribution to
them.
Francesca White(Pancha Swain) Melbourne, Australia.
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