La Vida Cotidiana

Getting used to the changes in daily life has been a series of trial-and-error episodes in which I typically end up making a fool of myself. Oh, the joys of studying abroad.

First, I am still trying to figure out the public transportation system. There are micros, which are buses; colectivos, which are group taxis; and there are good ol' fashioned taxis, which end up being my salvation when I screw up with the former two. I made it successfully to the gym and the mall today, and I felt very proud of myself. Coming back from the mall, I thought I would get off the bus in the center of town and take a colectivo to my house, but when none came, I opted for a taxi. It's not safe for a female to be out alone at night, so I was in a hurry to get back into the safety of some other form of transportation.

A couple of times, some colectivo drivers took down the route signs on their cars and just took me where I needed to go for a normal cab fare. The first time, I didn't yet know about colectivos, so I thought I was just getting into a taxi. When the driver I told me that he didn't go in that direction, I wondered what the big deal was with just turning around. I didn't say that out loud, but the guy could tell I was a confused foreigner. He took me home. The next time, just a few nights ago, a colectivo driver just offered to take me to where I needed to go, which was a hospital across town, or so I thought.

I had asked a doctor with whom I am acquainted and who is a friend of Paola dn Eduardo's to write me a prescription for a medicine my mom is having trouble refilling for me at home. I went to the hospital where he wrote me a health certificate for the university a week earlier, but he was at the public hospital that night. When I finally made it to that hospital, after having gotten off the bus too soon and walking a little while at 9 pm and praying for safety, he greeted me by saying, ''Welcome to Cambodia.'' The ER waiting room was full, and the triage units were old-fashioned at best. They're still trying to figure out the public-private healthcare system there, but at least they are trying. Maybe the U.S. will be trying is we get a change of party in the White House.

And oh yes, I am voting by absentee. Not gonna miss this election just because I'm on another continent.

Right across from the private hospital I mistakenly went to is my new gym. It is brand new, has televisions in all the cardio machines (and Frasier, The Nanny, and lots of other stuff is in English with Spanish subtitles, instead of being dubbed like La Anatomía Según Grey). Also included in the price is a personalized program based on an assessment by a trainer, kinesiologist, and nutritionist. My appointment with the trainer was okay--he's Colombian, and I understood everything he said, which is typically not the case when speaking to Chileans. My confidence in my Spanish was thus restored for a little bit. I found out what percentage of me is fat, what is lean, water, etc. He also pinched my fat in a few places with a little device that measures one's fat rolls. I felt good about my arms and back, but I was humbled when he got to my belly! How embarrassing. Thankfully, he didn't measure my backside, because that would have been uncomfortable on more than one account! My program is pretty hardcore, but it's doable, and and I am pretty sure that I will be ripped by the time I come back to the U.S. I kind of want one of those fat-pincing devices, though. That could be pretty entertaining.