Moving halfway across the world understandably came with a few lifestyle tweaks: beyond the language switch and the climate shift came changes that I hadn’t anticipated at all. One such challenge I faced on arrival was the issue of water rationing. After my thirty hours of travel to Santiago, which involved three flights across two continents, I deliriously checked into my hostel and tried to shower the journey off my back – to no avail. On asking the receptionist what was up, I was informed that they limit water usage during certain times and days of the week. Coming from such a dreich country as Scotland, it’d never really occurred to me that what I took for granted – and often loathed – back home was, in fact, a luxury. Chile’s ongoing water crisis made me acutely aware of details I’d never stopped to think about before: which setting to use on the washer, how many wasted litres go down the drain waiting for the shower to heat up, or how full the kettle really needed to be for a cuppa.
The city’s public transport is much more affordable than that of my hometown, so I regularly made use of the sixty pence metro journeys to get me to where I needed to go. Choosing the subway over services like Cabify or Uber was a no-brainer for me, as it was easily a fifth of the price and came with the Red app, which provided regular travel updates and route planners. Beyond the price and convenience, it also massively reduced my carbon footprint while still allowing me to experience the full extent of what the city had to offer. This helped me keep up with my love for birding while abroad. Many golden hours were spent in autumn catching glimpses of picaflores chicos darting around over Santa Lucía hill, all thanks to those early morning metro rides into town. With help from eBird and iNaturalist, I could record my sightings and contribute to global biodiversity data as a mere hobby ornithologist.
Over time, I adapted to the local way of living through paying attention to how my friends and neighbours structured their lives: I moved away from the convenience of the nearby Lider supermarket and instead took my cash to the fruit and veg stalls on the streets outside my house, which saved a lot of pennies and plastic packaging in the long run. In the same vein, my second home very quickly became the Persa Biobío flea markets: every Saturday, I’d wake up bright and early to wander through the hundreds of pop-up stalls selling everything from Walkmans to wall art, Doc Martens to dartboards, and thrifted denim to three-piece suits. Thus, embracing the Santiaguino culture of giving a new breath of life to pre-loved goods. Evidently, sustainability is achieved through small, consistent choices in the ways you manage your transport, shopping, and chores. I intend to carry these habits with me beyond my time here in Santiago.
