Stillness has a way of finding you when you least expect it. Sometimes it meets you at the edge of exhaustion, after 24 hours of travel and a big month of work travel. That’s how I arrived in Chile — somewhere between my jetlag and curiosity of my next adventure. Completely open and excited for a beautiful journey in a country I’ve anticipated traveling to for years, but unsure what I’d find in the vast quiet of the Atacama Desert.

Arriving at the Edge of the Earth

I’d just returned from Jordan days before — still unpacking memories and dust — when I boarded another long flight south. Two more weeks of travel, endless conversation, and being “on” for this upcoming adventure conference with the Adventure Travel and Trade Association. I remember wondering how I’d find the energy to do it all again.

But the moment I stepped into the warmth of our Trekking Aymara guides, Alvaro and Santiago, something in me softened. Alvaro, the founder of Trekking Aymara and president of a foundation for Indigenous tourism, radiates a calm that makes you trust the journey ahead. His mission — to connect the beauty of Chile’s wild landscapes with the history and traditions of the Aymara people — unfolded in every detail of our week together.

Alvaro and Santiago, tour guides with Trekking Aymara

The Quiet Power of Connection

Each day felt like a new chapter in an ancient story. We visited a winemaker in Codpa, a tiny desert valley where she sells her wine only within the community, surrounded by gardens bursting with fruit, vegetables, and wildflowers. In Belén, a town of fewer than thirty residents, we camped beside centuries-old Spanish churches framed by serene mountains.

And in Lauca National Park, I stood before the twin volcanoes Parinacota and Pomerape, ancient and still, their snow-dusted peaks towering above wetlands teeming with flamingos, llamas, and Andean birds. The stillness of the mountains contrasted with the pulse of life beneath them — a perfect mirror for the way I was starting to feel inside.

One of the most powerful moments came while dining with Don Conrado, a shepherd who has lived off this land for more than thirty years. At seventy-nine, he maintains the small homes he built by hand, his fingers and toes marked by frostbite from years of survival in harsh conditions. As he spoke about El Temple — an Aymara phrase for finding the spirit and strength within to do hard things — I felt tears fall. His resilience was humbling.

When Silence Becomes a Teacher

There’s a mysticism to Chile that can’t be described, only felt. The desert feels infinite — it could swallow you whole in an instant, yet people have thrived here for generations. At night, the stars glowed so bright they seemed ready to drop from the sky, outlining the silhouettes of distant peaks.

At the Suriplaza, the desert shifted to deep oranges and soft browns under a cloudless blue. Standing at nearly 17,000 feet, it felt as though we were the only living things left on Earth. And then, in the distance, we saw Parinacota again — a reminder that these landscapes, though vastly different, are all connected.

Before our climb, Alvaro led a ceremony of gratitude to Pachamama. He offered words of thanks — for life, for the land, for our group. The moment was quiet, sacred, and deeply moving. I wept openly. It reminded me of the power of not knowing — of being moved by something you don’t yet understand but can feel deep within your soul.

What Stillness Revealed

In that silence, I found perspective. Traveling like this — with intention, humility, and connection — is a privilege, one that can’t be taken lightly. It reminded me why I love what I do: to share these stories, to spark empathy, to help someone take one more step out of their comfort zone and into the world.

It brought to mind one of my favorite Anthony Bourdain quotes:

“It seems that the more places I see and experience, the bigger I realize the world to be. The more I become aware of, the more I realize how relatively little I know of it, how many places I have still to go, how much more there is to learn.”

Chile reminded me of that truth. The more I saw, the smaller I felt — in the best possible way.

Reflections and Resources

If you go:
– Operator: Trekking Aymara – https://trekkingaymara.cl/
– Duration: 6 days / 5 nights
– Route highlights: Arica → Codpa → Belén → Lauca National Park → Suriplaza → Putre → Arica
– Style: Community-based trekking experience blending culture, nature, and Aymara tradition
– Packing tips: Bring layers for extreme temperature shifts (from high-altitude chill to desert heat), hydration tablets, warm socks and camping necessities like head lamps or backup batteries for electronics, SPF 50+, and an open heart <3

The Stillness Before the Wild

As I left the desert behind, I felt lighter — both physically and spiritually. The Atacama taught me that stillness isn’t the absence of movement; it’s the presence of awareness.