HELADO/ICECREAM

Melted ice cream and dog poop on the sidewalk: this is a fairly good summation of your typical Chilean street.

As I have already written about the hairy culprits who doo-doo where I am trying to walk, I will elaborate about the Chilean affinity for all things ice-cream.

I do not know the history behind frozen treats in Chile, but from the looks of it, ice cream has just hit the scene. People are wearing brain freezes like they are going out of style.

As you walk down any given street in Santiago, 9 out of 10 passerbys will have something ice-y and creamy dribbling down their chins.
And 9.5 out of 10 fingers will be sticky.

Why?
Well for starters, apparently it's never the wrong time for ice cream.
4 p.m.?
4 a.m.?
Always ice cream to be found.
On nearly every corner, someone is slinging the cow.

Furthermore, there is the roving ice-cream-dude, who has a cooler clutched under his arm as he hollers "¡HELADOHELADOHELADO!" ("ICECREAMICECREAMICECREAM!") loud enough for the entire nation of Argentina to hear. This guy pops up on the beach, in the park, in the cemetery, on the bus, in the elevator, and in your closet. Inescapable.

But usually, soft-serve is the weapon of choice.
FYI fellow travellers, Chilean soft-serve tastes like plastic at first, until your tongue goes numb and you really start to enjoy the experience.

You go to the nearest carwash, and I can almost guarantee somewheres around the establishment will stand an ice cream machine.
Want an ice cream with your haircut?
You got it.
An ice cream with your watch repair?
You betcha.
Ice cream with your ice cream?
No problemo.

I do not pretend to understand why the entirety of this nation seems to be screaming for ice cream.

But I will go hoarse among them trying.