Going to Concepcion

Before I arrived in Chile, I wasn’t as excited about it as I would have liked to have been. I kept telling myself that once I arrived, I would be more excited, and this turned out to be true. While I was still in the United States, anxiety and preemptive homesickness were the principal emotions I felt. Even though I have been to Spain and Mexico, Chile would be different—different culture, different history, and a different way of speaking Spanish. I would have to become accustomed to someplace new, which is always a bit daunting. I expected these feelings of nervousness, though, because every time I have studied in a new place, I was always nervous in the beginning but happy once I got settled in. A month or two later, it was as if I had lived there my entire life. I still got homesick, but it was bearable, and I was usually so busy that the time passed quickly.

After a long, delayed flight in which I probably annoyed the middle-aged Chilean man sitting next to me, I arrived in Santiago. The airport resembled airports in the U.S. moreso that Madrid-Barajas. That was a nice surprise. The way the people spoke was not a very nice surprise. The Chilean way of speaking Spanish is beautiful, but Chileans speak very quickly, slur their words, and omit the “s” whenever possible. They also have different modismos, but so does every country and/or region. Still, Chilean Spanish is probably the most difficult to understand, next to Cuban Spanish. I feel confident that I will be able to understand almost anything after spending nine months here!

At customs, a very nice, older man helped me push my luggage to the bus transfer. I felt bad for his having to follow me around to get cash and a transfer ticket, but I accidentally tipped him extremely well. The only cash I had came from the ATM, so I didn’t have change or ones. Not knowing how much 10,000 pesos was in dollars, I tipped him this, since it was the smallest bill that I had. I tipped him around $22, as it turns out! I’m sure he was very happy.
I didn’t get to see much of Santiago, but what I did see reminded me of Florida a little. There were lots of palm trees, some of them with short trunks, which I hadn’t seen before. Instead of searching for the M bus company as Scott recommended, I just went with the first guy who said he’d get me a ticket. I was too tired to do anything else. I got on the Pullman Tur bus after having bought a sandwich and a coke zero—another pleasant surprise. I slept for the majority of the long ride from Santiago to Concepcion, adding six or so more hours to my trip that began the day before. The man sitting next to me told me where to get off the bus in Conce.
I got off the bus at the Collao station, which is the main station in Concepcion. Across from it is the municipal soccer stadium, where players in bright blue uniforms paraded around and spectators and travelers gathered on the street. I had my two huge suitacases, my rolling carry-on, and my laptop case in tow, and needless to say, it was very difficult to manage them. I don’t know what I was thinking taking three rolling suitcases, and the small one does not attach very well to its larger counterpart. I know I pack too many things sometimes, but in reality, I didn’t pack as many clothes as I have in the past. Most of the weight and the room in my suitcases came from books and shoes. I read in a guide book that in Chile they normally don’t sell women’s shoes above a U.S. size 8, so I knew I had to take shoes for all seasons and occasions. Bringing my thesis research along with books about Chile also took up some of the weight, and I had even cut the number of books to the absolute basics that I would need. I think I will end up mailing a lot of stuff back before I leave, because surely I will have accumulated more things during my nine months here.

I tried to call the numbers that my host counselor Eduardo had given me, but the calls would not go through for some reason. I ended up taking a taxi to his house in San Pedro, and I regret that he paid for it, because it probably cost a lot. I stayed with Eduardo and Paola for a couple of days before moving into my pension, and I had a great time with them. Eduardo is 34 and Paola 31, so they don’t’ fit the typical profile for Rotarians. Their club consists mainly of young professionals like them, so I’m excited to meet them. My first talk is at their meeting this Tuesday night.