The South American Diaries: Part 4. Between Joy and Chaos in Santiago

All words and images by Jonas Zöller

After La U’s Supercopa win, the streets of Santiago erupt in colour, song, and smoke. What begins as celebration ends in chaos — and a deeper understanding of what football means here.

A Change of Plan

The next morning at breakfast, I scroll through reels from the night before and instantly regret not going to the gathering of La U supporters outside the hotel. I tell myself there will be other chances, but still, I carry a dull sense of disappointment as I pack for my trip south to Patagonia.

While on the phone with my girlfriend, I stumble across another post. La U has won the Supercopa earlier that day, and the message calls on fans to meet at the Estadio Nacional to celebrate. Relief and adrenaline hit me at once. I hang up and set off.

The Celebration

From far away, I can already see the sea of red and blue flags. Crossing the street toward the stadium, I feel a grin spread across my face. Thousands of La U supporters are gathered on the forecourt. Smoke from makeshift grills hangs in the air, beers are pulled from wheelbarrows packed with ice, and fireworks crack overhead. Every wall seems to have a flag draped across it. The crowd sings in the golden light of the setting sun. No ball is rolling, yet it feels like the perfect evening.

Chaos and Confusion

I grab a beer, let myself drift with the crowd, and try in vain to join in with songs I don’t understand. Then a mist sprays across the square. At first, I can’t place it — until the mist turns into heavy drops. Glass bottles burst around me, sirens scream. From all sides, armoured vehicles and water cannons push into the crowd.

What had been pure celebration breaks apart in panic. Families run, others arm themselves with anything they can throw.

Calm After the Storm

I don’t want to test my luck. I pull back and make it out. Weirdly, just a couple of hundred metres away from the chaos, people seem relaxed again. I’m asked for photos — as German as I apparently look — and the kids I walk past are smiling. There’s no sign of panic here.

It feels like the people are used to these sudden outbursts of police violence. A few minutes later, I’m back at my hostel, still asking myself why the police stormed a peaceful gathering without provocation. I can’t make sense of it.

And yet, when the adrenaline finally eases, I realise I feel something else too. As if, at last, I have truly arrived in South America.