enRoute


	ENROUTE TV ENROUTE FM MEDIA KIT AIR CANADA LINKS WRITERS' GUIDELINES

MADE IN SANHATTAN

Fuelled by Chile’s new prosperity – and plenty of pisco sours – Santiago is gaining civic sophistication and confidence.

Text: ARJUN BASU

1 | 2 | 3 | JUL '04

The pigeons are not impressed. The evangelist before them is fishing for souls by preaching his fire and brimstone to all who will listen in the Plaza de Armas. A large flock of pigeons bobbles about pecking at the ground, more interested in crumbs than Christ. Next to them, under a gazebo, old men play chess at tables surrounded by yet more old men who watch the thrust and parry of the ancient game. Lovers, families, tourists sit on the park benches. Statues of historical figures and politicians dot the square. Swaying palms form lines across the plaza like soldiers. Photos are taken. The evangelist, his long tousled hair giving him the air of a crazed romantic poet, struggles to gain an audience. He won’t. He’s too angry. He’s committing everyone to hell. But the people in this plaza, in the centre of Santiago, are, for the most part, not angry. Far from it.

Surviving a dictatorship earns you the right to be happy. But surviving a dictatorship only to find, a few short years later, that your city and country are the economic success story of the continent, well, that’s more than happy. That’s giddy. And that is, in many ways, the perfect word to describe Chile’s capital: giddy.

You can see this giddiness manifested in the gleaming office towers and architecturally stunning apartment buildings that have gone up in the newer neighbourhoods. You can see it in the beautifully efficient subway. You can feel it walking the numerous pedestrian malls downtown at lunch hour. You can taste it in the chic restaurants in Vitacura or the raucous bars of Bellavista. Swoosh it around your mouth as you sip a local wine or down yet another pisco sour, the national drink.

It’s as if the Chileans, in their giddiness, decided to tidy up, to trim the lawns, as it were, because they know. They know that the world is coming. Soon. They know this because outsiders like myself come here, get excited and enthralled by the place, and tell them. Experiencing Santiago is to feel a city on the threshold of next-big-thing status. Santiaguinos themselves are too new to the world to know this. But this is really what the city exudes right now. Its lack of self-awareness about its own greatness only makes that status all the more authentic.

In Las Condes, modern sculpture in the form of office towers rises to create a jungle of steel and glass. Locals have taken to calling the area Sanhattan. The buildings, designed by Chilean architects, are unabashed copies of better-known towers in North America and Europe. But the cityscape gets away with it because the buildings are so well done. A visiting businessperson’s first thought will be "Why can’t my office be like this?" Santiago might have one of the most impressive, though low-key, collections of modern architecture going.

The architecture highlights a central fact of Santiago: All the new stuff – the buildings, the metro, the international airport – are projections of who Chileans aspire to be. Many Santiaguinos I spoke to are pleasantly surprised by what their city is becoming. "The city has changed," says Marcela Herrera, the public relations manager for the Anakena winery, 90 minutes south of the city and one of 150 wineries now operating in the country. "And the people have changed. We are in a transition period. Now if only we could be more confident." Everyone I speak to in Santiago mentions a lack of confidence as the signature trait of the national personality. If the Brazilians know they are fabulous and don’t care what you think and the Argentinians expect you to know they are fabulous, Chileans are, well, polite – and timid. I run this analogy by a few people, and they all agree. Even if they disagree, they keep it to themselves, thus proving my point all the more.

To get a sense of where Chile is headed, I share a coffee with Marcelo Jünemann, the founder and editor-in-chief of Big magazine. Big is a hyperglossy, ultrastylish magazine about fashion and everything modern. It is international, sold around the world from editorial offices in New York and has previously been published in Madrid and London. Jünemann could live anywhere, but he chooses Santiago. Yes, it’s his hometown, but this is a man who has lived on three continents, whose wife is South African, who has a place in the Hamptons. So why Santiago? "Because quality of life-wise, it’s one of the best places in the world to live," he answers. Big has launched a Chilean edition, designed to "help the world see the modern Chile," Jünemann tells me. He wants to play the booster, and he wants to help his fellow Chileans come out of their shell. "Chileans have to stop being shy," he says. "It’s the best country in South America. They have to figure this out for themselves."

Jünemann mentions the weather, the ocean and the mountains, and on this point, it’s hard to disagree with him. The weather here is perfect for eight months out of 12 (the winter is damp and chilly). The Andes loom over the city like some momentous mirage and can cover half the eastern sky. Ski hills are less than an hour away. Ninety minutes to the west lies the Pacific Ocean, where the cold Chilean current lashes a coast studded with beaches and pretty towns.

1 | 2 | 3 | JUL '04