The Stars of Elqui Valley

By far the biggest local hero of the Elqui Valley is Gabriela Mistral, winner of the 1945 Nobel Prize in Literature and first Latin American to win, either man or woman.

Her childhood home/school/post office
 in Montegrande

 La poetisa was apparently a rather sober woman, and more often than not she is not smiling in photos. That said, the expressions that her proud homeland has chosen to immortalize in stone range from mildly depressed to downright sinister.

Thinking about an unhappy childhood?
Or maybe someone just ate the last empanada

Still pensive overlooking her own grave– okay, free pass for that one

Here's where they cross over into "did the sculptor actively dislike her? Was he traumatically forced to read her poetry in school?" I mean, just look at those arched eyebrows, those soulless laser-beam eyes of stone...

Bow down! Bow down to your Supreme Evil Overlord of
Reflective Social Activist Poetry!

And what is the deal with death masks? Why immortalize not the life of the dearly departed, but specifically their dead bodies? Actually, I can only assume this is a death mask; that wasn't specified. Given her track record with sculptors, maybe they just chose to make her look dead.

This has to be a death mask, right?

But you know what's wrong with the above (assumed) death mask? It's too small. Saaay, I think the town square could use a new fountain.

 That's more like it.

More pensive staring, this time in the vague direction of happy children

If I were Sra. Mistral, and I were faced with both a lack of photogeneity (is that a word?) and an army of grudge-bearing sculptors, I think I would prefer this little piece of homage that I found tastefully Sharpied on a back corner of her grave site.

However, Gabby is not the only star in the Elqui Valley. With frequently clear skies, high elevation and little light pollution, it is also a favorite location for actual stargazing, both casual and professional. On a cold, clear night, we took an "Astro Tour" from the top of a desert ridge.

The moon was distractingly bright, about five days shy of full, but we were still able to see a sky full of beautiful, strange stars. I say strange because I don't go south of the equator very often, and the scene above me was only vaguely familiar, like running into someone's cousin at the grocery store.

The moon, at least, was the same, and it turns out that telescopes and iPhone cameras are a workable combination. It made for a marvelous final snapshot from the Valle de Elqui.