Pin8

On rare occasions, it's possible to find yourself in the right place at the right time. Like the day we arrived in Santiago and General Pinochet died. We first noticed folk gathering around the TV in the bar we were in, who kindly informed us of the former dictator's death, and that crowds were gathering in Plaza Italia. We couldn't miss an experience like this, so off we trotted up the road.

There's definitely something going on here...



How do we get past the riot police and join the fun?
Why, just pose for a picture then squeeze past.

It was what's known in Spanish as a "fiesta"


The "PIN8" on the banner means "Pin-ocho", a pun on the name of lying puppet of folklore

Everyone was in a really good mood...

...even though The Disappeared on this banner failed to have the man responsible for their murder brought to justice.

And of course, Socialists were out in force

It ain't a fiesta without a sound system pumping out some bangin' latin tunes

We thought this guy might have been tortured by the regime because of the scars all over his body, but on closer investigation they appeared self-inflicted - they all follow the direction of a blade held in the right hand. One way of emerging from crack induced paranoia is to self harm, not that I'm saying this lively chap was ever a crackhead.

And here's the man himself, surveying the crowds celebrating his demise (just out of shot on the right). Notice there's only two coppers guarding the monument from any potential desecrators. Remarkably well behaved, the Chileans.

Shortly after this my friends got so uncontrollably drunk they disappeared. Ironic, really. They all turned up eventually, only one of them bloodstained after being chased by riot police (they didn't catch him; he just fell over when running away). It was a great start to three weeks of craziness...