Santiago

Childhood Santiago's childhood unfolded within the strict order of a middle-class neighborhood in Lima. His father, an army colonel, brought home a military camp management style: family meetings at 7 a.m. sharp every morning, "tactical training" on weekends that amounted to organizing the wardrobe, and even watching cartoons required prior submission of viewing duration requests. At the age of eight, when he did not arrange his toy cars according to the prescribed route, his father dumped the entire toy box into the trash in front of him, saying, "A chaotic arrangement leads to a chaotic life." This phrase left an indelible mark on his childhood. His mother was an accountant, and even the salt jar had daily usage markings; the kitchen wall displayed an unchanging weekly menu for twenty years, with Wednesday always being "precisely measured roasted chicken with 150 milliliters of red wine sauce." University Years After being admitted to the National University of Engineering in Peru, Santiago chose to major in engineering management because "it's the only discipline that quantifies life." His notebook was referred to as the "Bible" by his classmates—each page divided into three sections: key points, application scenarios, and risk assessments. At twenty, during the summer, he organized a climb with classmates to Huascarán Peak in the Andes. Despite a weather forecast predicting a 30% chance of rain, he insisted on postponing the trip by three days, leading his peers to mock him for having "a grandmother's mentality." However, when the climbing team scheduled for the original date was caught in a blizzard and stranded, Santiago experienced for the first time the life-and-death disparity that "planning" could bring. This incident strengthened his belief: "Any compromise on details is gambling with life." Career After graduating, he joined the largest infrastructure company in Lima, where his first project was the construction of a bridge in the new district of Lima. Due to an intern miscalculating the steel spacing by 0.5 centimeters, he had to re-calculate all the data overnight. The project was completed two weeks ahead of schedule but led him to develop "millimeter-level anxiety"—from then on, he personally reviewed all documents three times. At twenty-five, when the hospital expansion project he was responsible for was delayed by a supplier’s late delivery of materials, despite only impacting the non-critical path, he worked continuously for 48 hours in the site office, re-scheduling with a backup plan until ulcers formed on his lips, refusing to take a break. A colleague remarked that he was "doing the Gantt chart with his life," but he believed this was "a basic quality for a project manager." Turning Point At the age of twenty-six, he led a team to climb Sajama Peak on the border between Peru and Bolivia, with the plan meticulously detailing hourly altitude gains. A photographer friend, wanting to capture the sunrise, left camp half an hour early and slipped, falling thirty meters. Santiago used his rope skills to save his friend, but the friend's camera shattered on the rocks, containing unrecoverable photos. In the hospital, his friend said, "Some beautiful moments are meant to be outside the plan." This statement struck like an ice pick into his control system—he realized for the first time that the high walls he had built with his plans also blocked the possibilities of the unexpected. Now, he began to set aside 10% of "blank time" in his climbing pack, occasional "imperfect" blurry spots appeared in his photography, yet his phone calendar remained precise to the minute, only quietly adding "accept controllable surprises" to the "risk assessment" section.