I learned a new word today and it wasn’t in Spanish: austral. One of my intermediate English students taught it to me. I’m sure many of you know this word, but I’m also willing to bet there is at least one other reader out there who wasn’t familiar with it until today. Or, maybe it’s just me.

The map is open to oh-so-many places to see. I.e. Pucón

As an ESL teacher, I’m used to my students using the “wrong” words. I hesitate to say “wrong,” as sometimes the words they choose, while not the most common iteration, are nonetheless interesting, unique, and even poetic. Still, it’s my job to lead them to the word they intended, to tell them if I (and by extension most English speakers) would most likely say it differently. The student I mention here is the general manager of his company’s operations in Chile; he and his presentations are important. It won’t necessarily do him any good if I let him err on the side of poetry (as much as my creative writing soul wants him to).

Rapa Nui/Isla de Pascua/Easer Island

As for austral, it’s an adjective that more or less means “southern.” One of its many definitions states “of or relating to southern regions of the globe,” which certainly piqued my interest, as I sit here in “the most austral country in the world,” as my student put it. (For the record, Antartica is a continent within which various countries claim territories, but it is not itself an independent country.)

Now that I’m aware of it, I’m learning that there are Austral Islands in French Polynesia, Air Austral in Argentina, and Austral Bricks (the largest manufacturer of its kind in, where else, Australia), among various other austral-related enterprises.

Isla Grande de Chiloé/Chiloé Island

For me, the moral of the story is that language can surprise you, especially when a “wrong” word not only turns out to be right, but also leads you to an interesting revelation about your own position in the world and creative space within it.

So, I sit here in the austral hemisphere, looking up at you, writing away. But there are 15 Regions of Chile that more or less ascend Roman-numerically as you descend the country geographically (don’t ask me why Regions I and XV are at the top… a territorial dispute with Perú perhaps?). Santiago is wedged between Regions V and VI (and not included in a region per se, but known as RM, for Región Metropolitana de Santiago). In other words, there is much of “the south,” as they call it here, to see: Chilean Patagonia being at the top of the list. In fact, when I look up “Chilean Patagonia” on Wikipedia, what do I find but “See also: Zona Austral.” Once you learn the word, you see it everywhere, right?

“Austral” Fjords

I would love to see Pucón‘s lake and volcano as well as those frozen fjords that scatter along the south and where, if you look on a map, the land literally looks like it’s simply crumbled like a cookie. There’s even a preserved penguin colony down on Magdalena Island in Punta Arenas (the island is in the Straights of Magellan no less). Imagine seeing hundreds of thousands austral dwellers! We also have friends staying in a cottage on Chiloé Island, the largest in its archipelago of the same name. How could we not answer these calls to adventure?

But let’s not discriminate. To the west across the Pacific is Easter Island. To the north is San Pedro and Iquique. This map holds so much. Appropriately, my travel list gets longer the more we learn about just how much there is to explore along this skinny country. There are also places to see that are still only names to me, such as Puerto Montt and Torres del Paine, the national park that I sadly know more about because of the devastating forest fires that recently swept through.

Torres del Paine

Let’s not forget that Chile is nearly 2,900 miles long and only 265 miles wide at most. To see its austral regions will require some combination of airplanes, boats, rented automobiles, and bicycles. Fortunately, we have time to try to see it all, but with competing trips home and limited vacation time, it might be an impossible “to travel” list. No matter where we live, there are places we wished we had experienced before moving on. I can think of the Statue of Liberty in New York and a run around Lake Merced in San Francisco. But I return to those places with semi-regular frequency. Once we leave Chile, who knows how we might wend our way back.

At least for right now, the map is still wide open.