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I arrived in Chile yesterday morning after a long day of traveling. A quick flight to Atlanta, long layover, long flight to Santiago. Arrived just shortly after 7 am local time.
But getting into the country? Anything by short.
First, we get off the plane and head towards immigration and customs. We’re met with a line. A long line. A line you couldn’t see the end of. A line that rarely moved, to where people and children can sit, crack open a book and remain undisturbed for 10-15 minutes at a time.
Eventually, and by that I mean two hours later, we reach the head of the line. The purpose of the line was to make sure that you had all the paperwork you needed to enter the country. Medical insurance. C19 form. PCR test from within 72 hours of departure. Took a grand total of 5 minutes to clear those documents. Less, actually.
This success meant you got to progress to yet another line. Shorter than the last one, but still relatively long. This time, the purpose of the line was so I could provide the information necessary to get the PCR test. Name, passport number, etc. A slip of paper popped out of the machine that collected these details and you moved to yet another line.
This time, we’re getting closer. It has been 2:45 since landing and we’re now in a line to get the PCR test. Takes about 15 minutes and I’m sitting in a booth with a lab technician as she gets ready for the swab.
A PCR test is a PCR test anyplace in the world. They reach up your nose and scratch your brain with a Q-Tip. Fun is the only way to describe it. What was interesting is that the lab tech didn’t speak English. Yo hablo espanol muy pegueno. So they facilitated communication through Google Translator. She would type her questions in Spanish. I would read and answer in English. Quite a simple, yet impressive use of technology.
Once I finished the PCR test, I was on the home stretch. A brief line to speak to Immigration. My bag was already long since taken off the baggage carousel, so the only delay was finding it in the sea of similar-looking bags. Finally, Customs, which had no line. Just shy of four hours after arriving, I legally set foot in Chile.
Of course, I couldn’t go anyplace yet. Had to quarantine until the PCR results came back negative. Twelve to twenty-four hours, I was told. Chile did well in that regard. I was free just before I went to bed that night. And now, a day later, I’m moving about Santiago with only the standard masking/social distance restrictions. It was a gauntlet, but I passed. Yay!