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FUERZA CHILE!!!

En este duro momento para los hermanos trasandinos, quiero expresar mis mayores deseos de que pronto puedan salir adelante. Un gran abrazo para el pueblo chileno y fuerza!!!



Saludos desde Argentina.

Piled Higher & Deeper by Jorge Cham		www.phdcomics.com
title: "The 2397th Annual Academic Awards" - originally published 3/8/2010 For the latest news in PHD Comics, CLICK HERE!

Los Ainu ( アイヌ ) son los indígenas que habitaban en Hokkaido, el norte de la isla nipona de Honshu y también las islas Kuriles. Son una raza milenaria y se cree que llegaron a estos terrirorios tras la última glaciación hace más de 18 mil años. Tienen su propia lengua, religión y cultura, aunque actualmente, está mezclada con la cultura japonesa en la mayoría de los casos. Es fácil identificarlos que el color de su piel (más oscuro), su fisonomía y facciones son distintas a las de los japoneses, aunque es dificil encontrar un individuo con una genética 100% Ainu. Aquí tenéis una representación de los Ainu realizada por japoneses que data de la era Edo :

En el siglo XVII, los nipones ya habían llegado a sus territorios, pero no sería hasta el inicio de la era Meiji, cuando serían ocupados. A partir de entonces, esta minoría se ha ido desplazando y, en otros casos, se han ido mezclando con japoneses, aunque las relaciones con éstos siempre fueron algo tensas, sobre todo desde que los integraron al país (en el s.XIX). Durante las últimas décadas, la cultura Ainu (muy distinta a la japonesa) ha ido desapareciendo debido a las influencias japonesas y occidentales durante las últimas décadas. Actualmente cuentan con una participación en el parlamento japonés y hay varios proyectos para la recuperación de su lengua y y su cultura, que desgraciadamente sigue en declive.

Más adelante, si os gusta el tema, hablaré más sobre la cultura Ainu y su situación en la actualidad.

ACTUALIZACIÓN :hc nos dá más datos en su comentario.

As the world is now fully aware, Chile suffered a massive 8.8-point earthquake at 3:34 AM on Saturday, February 27, 2010. Some 80% of the country felt the impact that left some sectors nearly decimated and others barely touched. Chile is no stranger to earthquakes. It holds the record for the world’s worst—9.5 points in Valdivia in May 1960. Chile—and Chileans—are prepared to meet nature’s wrath square on, and thanks to appropriate technology and a culture of preparedness (turn off the gas, turn on the water, open the door, stand in the doorway, get outside, get to high ground), the country has been able to withstand a fury that would have brought most other countries to their figurative knees.

Earthquake: A Personal View

Here’s a bit of my story as experienced in Concón, on Chile’s Pacific coast, just north of Viña del Mar (see the map below). It’s far less dramatic than many, but it’s also good for people to know that the entire country has not collapsed.

This was not the first time I’ve felt the world shake in the middle of the night. Nor was it the first time that my husband and I showed our different natures in the face of an emergency.

At 3:34 this morning, February 27, 2010, as the Earth let out a roar that began 35 km (22 mi) beneath the surface and began its strongest round of shake, rattle, and roll in 50 years, my very Chilean husband, having dealt with earthquakes and associated lore all his life, sprang from sound asleep to full alert in seconds and flew from the bed to the doorway, which is generally held to be the safest place to be in a quake.

Me? I’m the gringa who grew up relatively earthquake-free, and as such have no experienced-based fear of them. My response is to stay put until the shaking stops. So as he was shouting for me to run to the door, I was clutching the mattress, which jumped as if possessed, while calling for him to come back… Sometimes this works… but not this night.

See, the thing about earthquakes is that you never know when they will strike, how intense they will become, or how long they will last. And this one kept getting stronger and showed no signs of letting up. This was the big one… I joined him at the door.

Thankfully the moon was close to full and shed just enough light that we could see where we were going—it also allowed us to catch the TV just as it took a flying leap from its stand.

As I think back to those 3 eternal minutes, I try to make sense of detached and disorderly details. We were half-crouching, half-staggering like drunks on an all-night bender as we tried to keep our balance in the apartment doorway as the building randomly lurched back and forth and from side to side as if some giant hand had gone wild with a demonic joystick. In my mind’s eye I see our mouths moving, but have no idea what we said to each other. I don’t remember the sound. It must have been deafening—the earth roars when it moves and everything in the house rattles. Things falls from shelves, glasses fly from their cupboards and shatter across the room, doors open and slam shut, windows protest their frames, furniture throws tantrums and hurls itself to the floor… it must have been loud, but I don’t remember. My memory of the moment is as surreal as a psychedelic movie.

When things settled down, we pulled on some jeans and headed for the door. We needed to get out and down to the (dubiously) solid ground 8 floors below. I grabbed my camera bag and was almost out the door when I realized I should probably bring my purse as well! (thinking like a photographer in a crisis it seems).

My step-son called from the next town over (Reñaca) to let us know that he and his wife were okay. Then the phone went dead. I sent out a Tweet time-stamped 3:34: “TERREMOTO FUERTE in Concón.” I saw others had done the same and knew that Santiago, Casablanca, and Colchagua were also involved. I also knew that my friend Matt was missing England

I tweeted again a couple minutes later asking about epicenter and injuries… that was the last communication we had for hours.

All of the neighbors were downstairs. All dazed. All glued to useless cell phones, trying desperately to contact loved ones. All jumping with every one of the many (though small) aftershocks. But not a tear. Not even the babies were crying.

It was cold, so we got in the car and turned on the radio and eventually learned that the epicenter was between Concepción–we have family in Concepción–and Maule. I wondered about friends in the wine industry. All those barrels. All those tanks of wine. All those old bodegas… there was no way to know.

We knew that the ocean had pulled back and people in the south had run for the hills to avoid a tsunami. It pulls back during a quake and can return with a vengeance. (see the photo slide show link at the end of this piece). We wondered what the Pacific had in store for us, just down the cliff.

At 5:30 we were finally able to get through to my in-laws in Santiago. They were fine and already back in bed. At 6:00 we also decided to take our chances and return, exhausted, to our apartment. The damage wasn’t so bad. Some broken glasses, things on the floor. No structural damage. Nothing of importance. We were okay.

Back to bed, only to be jolted—hard—once again at 7:30. Little chance of more sleep.

No lights (the municipality controls that). No gas (the building manager turned it off). No water (the pump is electric). No communication (cell phones were out again). No way to reach my family in the US, so we headed back to Santiago. Besides, it just didn’t feel right to stay at the beach, pretending to have a good time, while incommunicado with the world and knowing that others were suffering around the country.

The roads were relatively clear and amazingly free of structural damage. The major highway (Rt 68) had reopened—all the tunnels and bridges had been checked and cleared for safety. I’m not wild about tunnels (ever) so we took the Cuesta Zapata—the road that goes up over the mountain instead of through it. Numerous rock slides had left boulders scattered about the winding narrow road, making it a bit of an adventure.

The new highway that normally allows us to skirt the downtown sector was closed due to damage, so we came straight through downtown. The streets were calm. The air was weird. We’re used to smog in Santiago, but this wasn’t it. There was an odd glow to it as the sun shone through the haze of dust that had been shaken and sent high into the atmosphere by the force of seismic fury.

We saw little damage along Alameda, Santiago’s main street. Some cracks here, some rubble there, but nothing very dramatic, until we reached the Divina Providencia Church. Divine Providence. How ironic the name. The entire cupola had been wrenched from its roost atop the church, as if to allow the altar to gape at the heavens.

Home at last. Neighbors had already checked our place, and we knew there was no major damage… heavy furniture had walked itself several inches out from the wall, some wine glasses had worked their way from their perch, a bookshelf had tumbled, odds and ends were scattered about, and not a single bottle of wine was lost from my cellar.

Deep breath. Find the broom. Remember to give thanks.

——

For More Info:

Here’s a little piece I wrote for the Guardian yesterday : Chile’s earthquake: view from Santiago

And a link to a a selection of truly unbelievable Chilean Earthquake Pictures.

Even more pictures from the Chilean newspaper La Tercera: Chilean Earthquake Slide Show.

Also see Liz Caskey’s Post about her experience of the Earthquake in Chile.

For much more information on earthquake activity, see the excellent US Geological Survey’s Earthquake site.

Filed under: Natural Disasters Tagged: Chile, Concón, Cuesta Zapata, earthquake, Iglesia Divina Providencia, Providencia

El artista norteamericano pidió que se respete su privacidad durante su estación en el recinto.

Se nos fue el inigualable Hirohito | Crónica

La empresa estadounidense Google, cada día sorprende más a todos. Hoy se ha dado el visto bueno al nacimiento de Google Energy llegando al mercado energético.

Tiempo atrás, mi amigo Carlos me contó que en su población existía una viejita a cargo de un almacén a la que todo el barrio apodaba “La Pulpa”.

El apelativo de la veterana no tenía ninguna relación con el hentai, sino con su particular estrategia comercial que le llevaba, ineludible e invariablemente, a tratar de apropiarse del vuelto de quien asistiera a comprar en su local.

Así, cuando un cliente echaba en falta parte de sus monedas, la anciana sólo fingía una exclamación de sorpresa, culpaba a su edad por el “olvido” y entregaba el botín. No importaba: cuando fueras por pan al día siguiente, volvería a sacar mal las cuentas.

La historia vino a mi cabeza el mes pasado cuando una factura de Telefónica del Sur levemente más alta de lo acostumbrado llamó mi atención. En su detalle figuraba un nuevo cargo: 700 pesos extra por una tal “mantención garantizada“, que se duplicaba al asignarse tanto a mi servicio de telefonía como al de Internet.

Pronto, comprobé que en realidad se trataba de un seguro que -sin consultar- la empresa había cargado a sus clientes para que, en la eventualidad de que el perro decidiera comerse tu router, ellos lo reemplazaran sin cobrarte.

Toda una consideración de su parte, que ya había tenido oportunidad de rechazar cuando era cliente de Telefónica Chile y que esta vez tampoco dejaría pasar.

Sin embargo no me daría el pique a la sucursal de Telsur en vano. Bombardeado por promociones, hace tiempo me extrañaba que mi plan de telefonía ilimitada + Internet de (supuestos) 4 megas siguiera costando 38.000 pesos mensuales. Antes de llegar decidí consultar en Movistar y descubrí que ellos prestaban el mismo servicio por 33.500 pesos.

Ahora serían ellos los que acabarían trasquilados.

- Vengo por 2 cosas -dije inspirando- ustedes me cargaron un servicio que yo no pedí y además me están cobrando más que otra compañía por el mismo servicio.

La ejecutiva miró la cotización que me dieron en Movistar, luego hojeó una carpeta con infinidad de promociones y descubrió que -casualmente- mi plan ahora costaba lo mismo.

- ¿Y entonces por qué no me lo habían rebajado antes? -protesté.
- Porque usted no lo solicitó -respondió ella.

(Probablemente Telsur evita así que una horda de clientes furiosos destruya sus sucursales porque les rebajaron el precio de su plan sin consultarles).

- Pero la “mantención garantizada” me la cargaron sin preguntar.
- Se informó en su cuenta de noviembre.
- Pero no lo autoricé. Se supone que no pueden asumir que yo…
- Según el reglamento de Telecomunicaciones -me interrumpió- las empresas tienen la facultad de hacer cargos de valor agregado con sólo informar al usuario.
- Pues me parece una actitud bastante flaite de su empresa.
- No conozco ese término, señor -dijo casi robóticamente.
- Rasca, ordinaria, mala clase, baja, vil…
- Pero no es ilegal.
- Lo legal no necesariamente es ético -retruqué picado.
- Bueno, si gusta puede formalizar un reclamo en…

Acabé por firmar el papel para que me rebajaran el plan -desde el mes subsiguiente- y anularan el cobro de la mantención garantizada… el que volvió a aparecer este mes.

Sin embargo la reflexión del asunto es agria. En Chile, comúnmente debemos llamar o acudir a las empresas para defendernos de cobros indebidos, servicios no solicitados, comisiones o reajustes que no se traspasan (cuando son a la baja, claro).

Recordando casos similares con Telefónica Chile, Telmex, Almacenes París, Sodimac o Ripley, nunca he entendido esa tendencia de nuestro empresariado a la ganancia pequeña, mezquina. Esa que le reditúa minucias a costa de la confianza de sus usuarios.

Aunque en realidad no son tan pequeñas. Hacia 2008, Telsur tenía 220.000 abonados a telefonía y 71.000 a Internet. A 700 pesos por nuca, la jugada le reporta potenciales 203 millones de pesos mensuales… sin siquiera moverse de su escritorio.

Es un robo hormiga corporativo, donde las víctimas somos nosotros.

La premisa es que en vez de proponer, se impone y, al igual como la anciana de la historia recurría al ardid para ganarse unas monedas extra, las empresas constantemente buscan nuevas formas de meter la puntita. Por si pasa.

Hey. Quizá el apelativo sí se relacionaba con el hentai después de todo.