August 15, 2008. I am going to Chile. On all flights, I would always get window seats. But this time, I got an aisle seat. I was a little upset that wouldn't be able to watch the clouds. But when the plane took off, two seats near me were not taken. The plane was full, and I was the only one in my row. Great!

When I was a child, The Splendour and Death of Joaquin Murrieta record was released. It was a very, very sad story. I don't remember the author but I do remember that the protagonist was a Chilean, and I remember the story of the Chilean love. I had a feeling the Chileans were a very cruel people. When I met my guide, I thought he was rather cruel. People in Santiago live behind the blinds without opening them. The guide explained that they were afraid of envy, and that robberies were frequent, especially those committed by teens. Oftentimes, as I was talking to my guide, I felt disaffection – to the world, not to me. They live only in their little world. Distrust and cruelty in their relations. No kindness or opening I had met before.

When I arrived in Santiago, it was raining, and it was rather cold by local standards. The guide said no tour of the city could be made because of bad weather – August is a winter month for them. When he picked me up the next morning, it was shining, and the earth was dry. I was in high spirits. I tried to change the guide's view of the world, and I think that I succeeded in that during the short time we were together. He became kinder, his outward aggression dissipated, and he began analysing his thoughts and actions.

We visited the cathedral on the main square. Great pictures! A real museum! I met a nun there had been on board the same plane, and we talked about God, people and problems using the guide.

Such closed windows are everywhere in Santiago.

The government building and the army ready to fight.

We went up a tall mountain to see the city from above. We could have used the rail, but we had our own transport.

Santiago is a big city, indeed. The mountain is topped with the Santa María monument. We toured many places of interest in the city. When we were walking, a ball appeared again, with glittering triangles. It looked interested in how I was teaching the guide about love for people. This "other" frequents me after we met at an airport in Eastern Tibet. Every time after his visit, I felt strong pain in my celiac plexus. Another peculiarity of this being is that when it stands up in front of me, everyone behind it disappears. It looks transparent but you can't see anything. Only pieces of our reality can get through it. Sometimes it stands up between my notepad and me. I write the words but the beginning of a word is missing, and only its fragments and the ending can be seen. One time, the being had spent day and night with me. When I went to bed, it began playing with its triangles in the dark, lining them up in a snake fashion and whirling in a dance. It was funny sight. When I got tired of watching this wonder, it lay down on my bed immediately, light as a feather, and all of my left side was enveloped in a hot wave. After working with my body, it was easier for me to bear its presence.