Power Lunchin' it up. (Length=long, Content=yes).

I had lunch with one of the most powerful men in Chile yesterday. Unfortunately, prior to our meal, I wasn't entirely aware of this. Agustin was a friend of my Aunt from college and he is certainly one of those "post-college-success-stories" you read about. He is the owner and director of "El Mercurio", the most popular and heavily circulated periodical in Chile. Basically, it's the New York Times, but on a National level. (I would say it's like USA TODAY, except for the fact that USA TODAY is USA TODAY. (Although they do have an exceptionally clever color scheme for the section headings. Who knew LIFE was purple?)). He also runs 6 or 7 subsidiary newspapers and his last name uncoincidentally shares the name with a prominent Chilean Bank.

I was probably underprepared for the meeting, as I made a last minute decision to change out of my flip flops, blue shorts and Mmmmellowfest T-shirt.

I showed up to the "El Mercurio" headquarters (campus) and went to the visitor check-in desk and after waiting for a few minutes, announced "Estoy encontrando con Agustin" (I am meeting with Agustin (I used his last name too)). Silence ensued. Blank stares and silence are things I have grown accustomed to after I speak in Spanish, but this time it wasn't due to a lack of understanding. The fellow asked me to clarify my statement, so I said "Estoy comiendo almuerzo con Agustin" (I am eating lunch with Agustin). At this point, other front desk workers started to gather around and smirk at each other, most likely pondering something like "Stupid gringo. He doesn't know what he's talking about." (To take a step back: In the States, this would be like showing up to the Microsoft Headquarters and non-chalantly informing the reception person that you had a meeting with Bill Gates (or maybe Paul Allen).

One of the reception guys smiled and asked me to write my name on a sheet of paper (probably to put me on a running list of idiot blond fellows he's met). I got through writing S-t-u-a- when another man tapped me on the shoulder and asked me if I was Mr. Poole. After moments of concentration, I said yes. All 8 reception workers stopped chuckling and stared at me dead pan. It wasn't since I got asked out by 4 girls in one day in 5th grade that I felt that cool. (Just in case you were wondering, I accepted Dierdra's offer to not really talk, hold hands once a week and generally be awkward around).

The man advised me to drive my car through the gates and towards the main office. I followed his instructions and parked my '86 baby blue Subaru station wagon in a parking lot with mostly Mercedes, Audi's, Porche's and other high performance vehicles. I was then met by another man who informed me that this was not the correct place to park, and rather, I should park my car on the front lawn, approximately 30 yards from the main office entrance. There was only one other car there, which looked decisively more official than the well-used Subaru I was driving.

I was escorted and passed off to two more employees before getting to Agustin's private dining room. There, I looked at the display of newspapers and pretended to know what they said until Agustin walked in. Agustin was an exceedingly intellengent man, who was very thoughtful and kind. He let me in on the secrets of the Newspaper Business and I tried to give him tips (like start a new section (maybe even Newspaper) entirely dedicated to Sudoku or use more big colorful pictures, etc).

I told Agustin about my travel plans and he strongly suggested I start a blog. Not really thinking, I said I already had. He was quick to ask me for the address, and by then it was too late to reverse my comment and say I didn't have a blog. Therefore, Agustin is the first Chilean to have my blog address. I am not sure how the U.S./Chilean international relations are going, but I am positive my blog can do nothing but help. or hurt.