Cuentos de Chile

New Semester

noreply@blogger.com (Brandi) — Sun, 07 Sep 2008 01:40:00 +0000

Well, my second and last semester at the Universidad de Concepción has begun. I am taking a continuation of my Mapuche testimony and poetry class and Social Development in Latin America and Chile. The latter is a really cool class. I like the sociology grad students, because unlike the history ones, they are around my age and are not commuters. I actually went to a bar called The Beer Place (clever name, huh?) with three of the students from the class the other night. I think that my classes this semester will be fine, just like last semester, but I have the added stress of writing my thesis and applying to grad schools on top of everything else I'm doing. Somehow, though, I still manage to be bored and stay in on a Saturday night catching up on blogging rather than going out and having a life.

I've been a little bummed over the past couple of weeks. I'm pretty homesick at this point, and I get stressed out very easily. I am sure that comes from my additional responsibilities of thesis-writing and grad school applications, but I just don't like it. I want to enjoy the months I have left in Chile, but at the same time, I just really want to go home and see my family and friends. I feel pretty lonely here a lot of the time. I do have friends here, but back in the U.S., there was usually somebody to hang out with any time I was feeling bored or blue. Now, I just watch Sex and the City episodes that I download from iTunes and pretend that Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda, and Samantha are my friends. How pathetic!

I can't help but wonder if this experience would have been different had I lived in Santiago instead of Concepción. I like Concepción, but it isn't exactly very conducive to having new cultural experiences every day. When I was in Santiago, I felt like there was always some new part of town to see, another museum to visit, another pub to check out.... Here, it's pretty dull. I can see why the Chileans who live here prefer it to Santiago: it's more relaxed, has fewer people, etc. I just think, as a foreigner, that Santiago has more to offer for those who which to be culturally stimulated. There is a saying here, ''Santiago is Chile.'' It's kind of like saying that New York is the U.S. I guess by living in Concepción I get to experience life on the periphery, which, in this country, is any place but Santiago.

There are many good things going on here, besides. Diane and I are working on a project to implement a library in the rural school where we both volunteer, and I am still enjoying teaching the little kids. I helped coach the debate team for the high school where I volunteer (the debates are in English), and they won first place at the last competition! I am very proud of them. I think working in the schools has been the most rewarding part of my time in Chile. That is probably what I am going to miss the most when I'm gone. That...and empanadas.

Termas de Chillan

noreply@blogger.com (Brandi) — Sun, 07 Sep 2008 01:25:00 +0000

A couple of weekends ago (still trying to catch up on the blogging), I went to Termas de Chillan with Diane, Mauricio, and two of Mauricio's friends. Unlike the first time I went to the termas in March, it was snowy! It was really beautiful, and I had a good time, except for catching a cold or getting a sinus infection...not sure which one.

Both nights we had asados (cookouts/barbecues) with Mauricio's friend Lily's co-workers, who were in the cabin next to ours. That was some tasty steak. And chicken. And choripan. It's a wonder I didn't gain 10 pounds just from that weekend.

On Saturday, we went to the area where the thermal pools are and where people go to ski. I got a massage and 20 minutes in a private jacuzzi, both of which were nice. The only thing was, whereas in the U.S. the masseuse leaves the room for you to get undressed, apparently in Chile she just stands there and watches you.

I really enjoyed seeing the snow. I sang Christmas carols to myself a couple of times. Now it's the beginning of spring, but since it's September, it feels like fall to me. I'm very seasonally-disoriented at the moment.

We also went to the market in Chillan proper, and I saw some really cool things there. I want to go back sometime when I have more time to look and shop. I want to get Christmas presents from there, but I'm not sure who would want a huaso hat or spurs....

So, in sum, Chillan was short and sweet, and I hope to go back before I leave Chile, which is in a few short months.

Santiago

noreply@blogger.com (Brandi) — Sat, 30 Aug 2008 16:10:00 +0000

So, it has been a ridiculously long time since I have posted an entry. I have been pretty busy. Since the last post, I had a prolonged stay in Santiago, went home to visit my family (thanks, Jimmy, for the buddy pass!), went to Termas de Chillan, coached a high school debate team, and started my second semester of classes. I intend to catch up on those things little by little, but I am working on my thesis, too, so I can't get too carried away with blogging. I'll start with Santiago:

Scott arrived on June 25 to do research on the Mapuche and finish Dr. Liz's research that he owed her. We spent a long weekend in Santiago, and although I didn't get to see the city very much, I did become familiar with the Biblioteca Nacional (National Library). It's one of the most beautiful buildings I've seen in Chile, but what goes on inside it is, well, very Chilean. One has to ask two or three different people to get what you want, most of the newspapers are not digitized but bound in hardcover, and you don't even have ot wear gloves to look at them! We were looking at newspapers from the '50s and '60s, and they were yellowing and easily ripped if one didn't use the utmost care. While we weren't able to take pictures of the papers (even without flash), the one old man at the copy machine could bend them every which way and photocopy them, which exposes them to much more light than a camera flash. I know I sound like a snob, but I was just a little shocked by how carelessly they treat their documents.

I went back to Concepción to finish my classes, and then I went home to see my family. It was sooooo nice to be in the warm July sun and soak in the bathwater-temperature swimming pool with my nieces. Madelyn had been taking swimming lessons and did very well. It was fun swimming with her. Makes me wish I were six again. We also went on a riverboat cruise on the Tennessee River. My sister had gotten us tickets. They show consisted of the boat being taken over by pirates whose boat of choice was a pontoon. Even though they obviously couldn't have been on a real pirate ship, we still thought it was funny that there were ''pirates'' on a pontoon boat.

I went back to Concepción, only to unpack and re-pack my bags to go back to Santiago. I got to see the actual city this time, and I like it. It's so much more interesting that Concepción. There are so many things to do and see. Some of my favorites include a trip to the countryside for a Mapuche ceremony, Pablo Neruda's house La Chascona, the Cerro Santa Lucía, the tribute to Allende on the bottom floor of La Moneda (the government palace), and the cute restaurants in Providencia. We stayed in a wonderful hostal there called Newen Kara, which is mapuzungun (the Mapuche language) for ''urban force''. Not only was the hostal clean and in a great area of town, but the owners were young, sweet, and very helpful.

There were two other places of interest that really affected me: Londres 38 and Parque Por la Paz (Ex-Villa Grimaldi). I was walking down one of the main streets one day, and I happened to see the calle Londres. I knew that Londres 38 was a torture and execution site during the Pinochet regime, but finding the actual place in a guide book or on a map was not happening. I walked down the street, and less than a block away was the facade. The building was closed down and eerie. It looked like it had been forgotten by everyone except those who had pasted pictures of disappeared people and graffittied things like, ''¿Dónde están?'' (Where are they?) and ''Aquí se torturaron y se asesinaron'' (Here people were tortured and murdered). My heart felt heavy.

The Parque Por la Paz is a little outside the city, and it is the site of the famous torture and execution complex Villa Grimaldi. The park is converting a closed-off space of detention and forgetting into a memorial and educational open space. There are placards telling which types of tortures took place where, and they have a replica of a cell in which 3-4 people were detained at once. It was 1m x 1m. It didn't even look big enough to be a closet.

The Tower is the one of the only original structures that remained. The Tower was basically the execution and body disposal site. How the hell can a large number of people in this country pretend this never happened?!

To end on a lighter note, I really enjoyed Santiago. Even though Scott and I broke up right after he got back to the U.S., I think I still have fond memories of the capital city. I especially enjoyed meeting another Rotary scholar named Justin and his friend Andrea. I plan to spend the week of the 18 de septiembre (Independence Day) hanging out with them and Diane in Santiago. Since I am going to be in Santiago for Election Day for a conference, we are going to get together to watch the results. Obama/Biden 2008!!! Yes, we can!!!

Carreteando y Estudiando

noreply@blogger.com (Brandi) — Fri, 20 Jun 2008 04:27:00 +0000

Just to clear up the title: carrete = fiesta = party; carretear= to party. Oh, chilenismos.

Last Saturday night Diane, Kristin (new Canadian friend, very cool), and I went to Pablo's birthday party. I joked that we were going to do an homage to Pinochet in the middle of it, as Pablo is a young penochetista. He has redeeming qualities, though, and I just tell myself he doesn't know any better.

As for not knowing any better, we found ourselves in an embarrassing situation that night, but we also learned a new chilenismo, or Chilean way of saying something. We had received a flyer via email from Pablo saying giving the direction of the party, Edificio Lemu, Clubhouse. It said that entrance was free after 10 pm, but at the bottom it said that it didn't include cover. We thought that was strange, but that maybe there was a special fee to get into the clubhouse but we may have to still pay a cover for a band or something. Anyway, we came prepared to pay a cover. Well, ''cover'' actually means alcohol! The party was in a rented out clubhouse, and everyone brought their own booze. We didn't notice this at first, as we were offered drinks as soon as we arrived. Later, though, we wisened up. We had considered bringing alcohol, but because we decided the party was at a bar since we would have to pay a cover, we didn't bring anything. Pablo just laughed and provided drinks for us for the rest of the night. I never would have thought that that is what cover means here. He's having another party to use up the leftover food from the first party, so we are going to bring enough ''cover'' to cover what we didn't bring before!

Other than carreteando, which I really haven't been doing that much of, I have been recovering from a sinus infection, teaching, and eeking out final papers. I am proud of myself for not having waited until the night before the papers are due to start working on them. I figured I couldn't punch out two 15-page papers in Spanish overnight. I shouldn't be doing that with papers in English, either....

I didn't teach at the high school this week because there was a teacher's strike. There were strikes and protests all over Chile because of a new education bill being proposed in the Congress that would further privatize education. That's crap. The free, public school education here is severely underfunded, and the gap between private and public education is only maintaining the economic gap within the country. I don't think they have reached an agreement about the bill yet.

I did teach the little kids this week. My heart is both warmed and broken every time I go to the school. The children are so loving, but it pains me so much to know that some of them live in children's homes because their parents abandoned them, and all of them live in poverty. I found out this week that another child, Jessica, lives in a children's home because her parents were/are drug addicts. She is six years old, the same as my niece Madelyn. She is really sweet, and in class Tuesday she hugged me a lot and called me ´´mamá.´´ I so wish I could adopt her! I actually mean that seriously. If I were in a more stable place in my life and had the money to do it, I would probably try to do it. My 15-year-old niece Kayley told me that if I were to adopt all the kids I see and say I want to adopt, I would already have a house full of kids. She's probably right! That's just me, though. I am a mother without a child.

Teaching Experience

noreply@blogger.com (Brandi) — Sun, 15 Jun 2008 02:08:00 +0000

I recently started two volunteer teaching jobs: one at a high school and one at a rural K-8. I am teaching English to mischievous high-schoolers and rambunctious 1st and 2nd graders, and it has been great so far. Although discipline problems are many, I am glad that I have the opportunity to help in some way and hopefully help boost these poor kids' self-confidence and give them a better shot at getting a college degree. Maybe there will be more government aid for students by the time they have the opportunity to go to college.

As it is right now, tuition is expensive and the student loan program is pretty insuffiicient. The students at to U de Concepción have taken over many of the buildings and have succeeded in stopping classes by strike. (Since there are so few students in my two grad seminars, we have continued to meet off campus and plan to complete our work on time so as not to lose vacation days that will likely be used to recuperate the missed days from the striking. We support what the strikers are doing, but we are continuing our work without really crossing a picket line, so to speak). The strike situation may seem radical to North Americans, but I have been told by many people that the only way to get the government's attention here is to have a strike. Unfortunately, although the government usually makes concessions initially, they often take back what they gave later on, thus causing more strikes. The teachers go on strike, too, because at the primary, middle, and high school levels, the government also underfunds schools, and the teachers' salaries are pitiful. My scholarship stipend is the same as what a teacher makes in Chile, which would be well below the poverty level in the U.S.

But back to my teaching experiences. I began working at a high school in San Pedro (about 20 minutes from Concepción proper) about 3 weeks ago. Although San Pedro is a pretty wealthy town, this particular high school is where poor children from the outskirts of town come to school. It is also a dumping ground for students who have been kicked out of other schools for disciplinary problems. I am working at the school through the program Inglés Abre Puertas, or Enlgish Opens Doors, which is a government program that recruits native English speakers from universities to volunteer as teaching assistants in schools whose students come from low socioeconomic levels. I think it is a good program, and the teacher I work with tells me that she can tell that the students are more motivated now that I am there. Just having a foreigner around stirs up student interest in most cases. There are many kids who are really good at English. I just hope they get a chance to do something with the language in the future.

I work at the high school on Monday and Wednesday mornings and at the rural school on Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday for bi-weekly 45-minute sessions with students in 1st and 2nd grades. The rural school gig was arranged by my host Rotary Club, which does various activities to help the school. This year they plan to build a multi-use sports field to replace the current one, which is just dirt (or mud if it has been raining) that has no actual goals or markings for sports.

Every time I go to the school, kids from all grades surround me, looking at me like I came from another planet rather than another country, and ask me questions until the principal takes me to the classroom. The kids I teach are soooooo cute and sweet, and they are really excited about learning English, especially the 2nd graders. The 1st graders are much more bashful, but they are doing well. The first day that I went to the 2nd grade classroom, the kids jumped up and down and cheered when I came into the room. I couldn't have asked for a better welcome! Although they are more rowdy and are greater in number and thus a little harder to keep under control, the 2nd graders show a lot of potential. It's amazing how well kids can pronounce words from another language! I don't think they quite understand all of the meanings yet, but that will get better with time. This week I taught them basic greetings, and we made masks with which we could practice the words. The masks are good not only for making learning more fun, but also for helping the shy kids to feel less intimidated.

I found out that one of the kids, who is particularly affectionate and always asking to help me with things, lives in a home for children. He is nine years old and should be in 4th grade, but he is so tiny! I think my 6-year-old niece is as big as he is. His parents were drug addicts and abandoned him, and he lived on the street begging for money before he began living in the children's home. Stories like that just break my heart, but they also give me more passion for working with them. I wish I could just adopt all those kids and care for them the way they should be cared for. Many, if not all, of them live in shacks or run-down houses with no heat or indoor plumbing. For many of them, both at the rural school and the high school, the only food they get is the school breakfast and lunch. There are a couple of high school students that I teach that are fifteen or sixteen years old but look like they are eight or nine. This is likely due to malnourishment, and I wouldn't doubt that some of them were premature or had fetal alcohol syndrome.

A lot of the high school students, though they come from these situations, have cell phones. A lot of them work after school and probably use some of their money for things like cell phones, because having the appearance of living comfortably when one is not is sometimes, I guess, more satisfying than taking care of basic needs first. That's material culture for you, I suppose.

The End of the Earth

noreply@blogger.com (Brandi) — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 01:33:00 +0000

It has been a month since I last posted an entry, so I have a lot of catching up to do. I have been busy traveling, teaching, and studying, and I usually don't feel like writing in my free time! I'm going to try to post a couple of entries that will get this blog up to date, and this first entry is the story of my glorious adventure to the ''end of the Earth'', i.e. Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego.

In the middle of May, I went with Eduardo and Diane to Punta Arenas, Puerto Natales, and the Torres del Paine national park outside of Puerto Natales. I discovered a totally different part of Chile that, to be, seems more interesting and aesthetically pleasing. The people in Concepción are great, but it is quite an ugly city, to tell the truth. I like the little communities outside of Concepción because they are usually prettier and have a more soulful feeling to them (perhaps I am romanticizing the countryside, but I assure you, I am no right-wing nationalist), but they lack the convenience of city life. I found Punta Arenas to be a mixture of those two: a small city that had enough diversions to keep a person entertained, but also pretty, clean, and full of history. Immigrants from Great Britain, Croatia, Germany, and other European countries settled here; not just Spaniards (and of course indigenous peoples, but I am talking about immigrants).

We got to see some important sites in Punta Arenas, such as Fuerte Bulnes. It was a fort and settlement where ruffians of England lived, sometimes as punishment. The fort is famous (here, at least) because the community rebelled and liberated itself. That must have been a hell of a day.

We also visited the city cemetary. Doesn't sound interesting, but it was. It is full of mausoleums of various sizes and designs--and a various family names. There one can see the tremendous Croatian hertiage of the city. Behind the giant monuments and mausoleums were bigger mausoleums that held many of the deceased of less wealthy stock. Eduardo asked why I took a photo of them sine they were so ugly, and I replied that it was reality, ugly or not.

Our trip to Puerto Natales and Torres del Paine was wonderful. We stayed in a very nice hostel for a cheap, low-season rate. Puerto Natales is quite small, so there wasn't as much to do, but we went there because of the park anyway. We took a guided tour on a minibus with a group of young women from Hong Kong and a man from Holland. Hiking would have been nice, but it would have required several days and warmer weather. Still, we got to see all the high points of the park, including the torres del paine (or the stone towers) and the cuernos (horns--smaller than the torres), a couple of beautiful lakes, and a waterfall. We didn't make it to Glacier Grey because it was way on the other side of the park. Being in the park made me feel calm, which was a nice turn from the rest of the trip. I sort of had wanted to strangle Eduardo for most of the trip, because he decided to be in control of everything. He has some idea that he needs to take care of us, but there's not a huge age difference! I think Diane and I are a little more mature than him, anyway.

Enough venting. Eduardo and I did have a fun time at the Austral brewery, but unfortunately Diane had had to leave. We got to drink a lot of beer, and we bought souvenir glasses. Austral beer is pretty tasty. My favorite is Austral Calafate, which contains extract from the calafate fruit, which we don't have in the U.S. Too bad the beer isn't available back home.

I also turned 24 in Punta Arenas. It was on a Monday, and Diane, Eduardo, and I had a nice lunch at a fancy restaurant after we returned to Punta Arenas from Puerto Natales. That night, Eduardo, his cousin Rodrigo whose hostel we stayed at, and I went out for drinks, and I had a slice of alfajor cake (crispy layers of pastry and manjar, which is like a mix between dulce de leche and caramel). Truthfully, I spent most of my birthday being cold, achy, and sad. May is basically wintertime in Chile, especially in the South; I'm used to having a springtime birthday! I missed my friends and family, and my phone wasn't working, so I couldn't talk to any of those who tried to call. I have had some awesome birthdays in the past few years, though, so surely one mediocre one won't hurt me.

The day after my birthday, I took a ride on a ferry across the Strait of Magellan. As a history person, this was pretty exciting for me, even though I always hated studying the exploration period in school. I went to the small town of Porvenir in Tierra del Fuego. Porvenir is not much, but at least I can say that I crossed the Strait of Magellan and have been to Tierra del Fuego! A Chilean man of Croatian descent who had been on the ferry offered to show me around town after handing me a business card for his mom-and-pop travel service. He drove me around the little town and showed me the main points of interest, like the church, the plaza, and a museum that told of the city's history. In the end, he didn't charge me anything and refused to take anythign I offered him! I had only a couple of hours in Porvenir before it was time to board the ferry again. It's a three-hour ride, and since the sun sets earlier in the winter, the return trips are right after lunch. Still, it was worth it.

I am so, so glad I went to Punta Arenas, Torres del Paine, and Tierra del Fuego, even if it wasn't in the springtime. It gave me a new appreciation for Chile and its natural wonders. Who knows, maybe I'll have the chance to go back someday when it's not so cold!

The Rotary District Conference in Los Angeles (Chile, not California)

noreply@blogger.com (Brandi) — Sun, 04 May 2008 03:46:00 +0000

Last weekend was the Rotary district conference, and as part of our scholarship duties, Diane and I had to go. It was located in Los Angeles, which is a small city/town about an hour and a half away from Concepción. Overall it was a good experience. As with all conferences, though, we had to suffer through boring talks and be chatty with a lot of people. I like meeting people and being chatty, but it gets old after you talk to, like, the fiftieth person. I sound so antisocial right now, sorry.

The first day, things ran pretty much on schedule. We heard an interesting talk by a Mapuche Rotarian about bridging the cultural gap between the Mapuche and the winkas (that's mapudungun for Chileans, or white folk. He didn't use that word; I learned it in my Mapuche lit class, and I like it). We heard other talks as well, which I am having a hard time recalling right now. There was one about the environment, but the guy spoke (or yelled, rather) into the microphone half the time and away from it half the time. He also quoted Genesis a lot...

The meals were probably the best part of the conference. We had full-course meals in a nice social club down the street (the conference itself took place in a high school), complete with delicious red wine. They have a special type of wine here called Carmenere (as opposed to Merlot or Cabernet Savignon--it's not the brand name). It comes from a grape that used to be in France but died out in a grape plague of some sort. It lived on in Chile (where I think the French planted it. Either that or it was native), and it is the only place that makes that type of wine. It is very smooth and is my new favorite tinto. Sorry, I will stop talking about wine now.

We also got to sit with different Rotarians at lunch, which could be fun, depending on who we sat with. The Coronel group was lively. Many people also took advantage of the opportunity to practice their English. They don't get so many chances to do that in Chile.

Saturday night there was a dance following the elaborate dinner, but dinner didn't end until about 12:30, and I heard the dance went on until nearly 3. Oh, Latin Rotarians. I was exhausted and left at 1:00. Diane and I had to give speeches the next day, and I didn't want to be a zombie onstage. Our speeches went well, and we were probably the only ones in that entire conference that stuck to our time limit (of 5 minutes apiece, which was a lot shorter than other people's time limits). On Saturday night, one man gave a ridiculously long diatribe renewable energy. Renewable energy is very important, but he didn't dumb the science down for anyone, and he talked for 35 minutes, while I am sure his time limit was 15-20 like the other speakers'. The session had already been running long, and Diane and I just started laughing (discreetly) after he kept showing slide after slide when we thought he had surely finished his talk.

We did meet a lot of nice Rotarians and racked up invitations to speak at clubs. The only problem is, some of those clubs are 2 hours away or more, so we will have to stay overnight during the week.

Speaking of clubs more than 2 hours away, I went to give a speech at the Parral Rotary Club on Tuesday. The president and I had had it planned for about 3 weeks, but he never mentioned that Parral was 2 1/2 hours away from Concepción. I'm sure he just assumed I knew, but I thought that it was just the name of the club! Our host club is called Rayen, after all (well, Rayen de Concepción, but they usually just say ''Rayen''). I thought it was in or near Conce. I was on my way to the gym the day of the talk when the president called me, asking me how and when I would be arriving. I told him that I did not know where the meeting was, and that I could go in taxi or colectivo if I knew the address. He said that someone would pick me up at the bus terminal if I were coming by bus. Then, I realized that this place was farther away. I told him I would be arriving by bus and would call back with the time, and then I dashed home and asked Tía Lucía where Parral is. She told me, and then told me to change clothes and pack an overnight bag, and she would take me to the bus station. I did so, and I got a ticket in time to get there in plenty of time for the meeting.

On the bus, a cute little eight-year-old girl named Esperanza (Spanish for ''Hope'') sat next to me. I was listening to my iPod, and after a while, she asked me what it was. I let her listen to music and play games on it. She had been learning English in school and decided to quiz me on my Spanish-to-English vocabulary. The problem was, she had been learning about the planets, and she asked me what stuff like an axis was. I felt like I was on Are You Smarter Than a Fifth-Grader? I know my sciencey friends will laugh at me, but seriously, I haven't talked about that stuff since middle school! Still, it was a memorable experience, and it made me even more excited about teaching English to kids.

The man who picked me up from the bus terminal was Jorge, a retired pilot-turned-notary public. He was very sweet, and he let me stay in his house. We went to the meeting, which was at a very nice restaurant. We had pisco sours and appetizers before dinner, and a little old man, who is actually the retired judge, talked to me at length about his children and his visits to the United States--in English! He had been to Nashville, as had Don Jorge.

The meeting included a full-course meal, wine, and a homage to the Carabineros, or police. Many of the police were there, including the chief, who is a young guy who speaks English, French, and Bosnian-Croatian-Serbian (he was in that area in the late 1990s). He and I had privileged seats at the head of the table. I also sat next to a man who had been to Wisconsin in the 1960s with some kind of farming program started by JFK. Oh, and I was the only female in the room!

They seemed to enjoy my talk, and they were welcoming and friendly. The last of us finally left at 12:30 (I'm telling you, Latin Rotarians). I returned to Concepcion the next day, vowing to always check about a club's location plenty of time in advance.

Yumbel

noreply@blogger.com (Brandi) — Fri, 25 Apr 2008 00:48:00 +0000

Still a little over a week behind in posts, but nothing much has happened this week, so I should be getting caught up.

The weekend after all the trips in the last post, I went with Eduardo, Paola, and Eduardo's parents to Yumbel, which is a very small town about an hour outside of Concepción. Diane and I met Eduardo's parents the night before when we ate at a Peruvian restaurant called Fina Estampa. I love that place. Ají de gallina is amazing (chicken in some kind of tasty yellow sauce).

Eduardo´s Uncle Mario lives on a farm in Yumbel. We met him in the plaza, and then we went to the fall festival. There were stands in which people sold artesan foods, jellies, wines, beer, leather goods, woven goods, ceramics, woodwork...you get the idea. I bought some homemade manjar, which is kind of a mix between dulce de leche and caramel. Very tasty. I also bought some random other things, including a bottle of wine and, from another vendor, a little outfit for a wine bottle that is a Chilean poncho and a little cowboy hat! It is at once cheesey and cute. There were some wines from the vinyards started by the Jesuits ages ago, and they sold wine bottle covers that look like Jesuit robes (a white or black robe with a rope tie and a hood). To my gringo eyes, they looked like mini-Grim Reapers and Klansmen. I did not buy one of those.

At the festival was also a huge tent in which restaurants from the town set up kitchens around the sides and served food. Unfortunately, we went into town to eat lunch. It was still good, and we got to eat sopaipillas and empanadas under the tent later.

We also visited Tío Mario´s house in the country after lunch. When we arrived, we were greeted by a litter of black and yellow lab puppies! My heart melted. I held a yellow one for a while. The black ones were a little skiddish, and they didn't let me get close enough to touch them. I so wanted to take one home with me.

We went back to the festival for a while that evening and then returned to Concepción. Once again, I felt like I was getting to see a totally different side of Chile than that of Concepción. I got to see the Decatur County of Chile, I guess!

The next weekend (which was this past weekend), Eduardo´s cousin and the cousin´s girlfriend came to visit from Chillán. Saturday night we went to a karaoke bar, and since we were practically the only ones there for about an hour, our group got a lot of time at the mike. We still sang a lot of songs when the place was full. Their selection of songs in English was not the greatest, but I found enough to sing. I knew some of the Shakira songs in Spanish, but I didn't try those....

This week has been a little slow. Last night I went (along with my gender class) to a ceremony paying homage to the professor who created the first women's studies program in Chile, which was at the Universidad de Concepción, in 1982. The speakers were a bit long-winded, but it was interesting to see so many people in one room that valued the fact that this woman managed to start a women's studies program in a sexist country that was under a military dictatorship.

Tomorrow, I am having dinner with Diane and her parents, who are visiting right now. Saturday and Sunday we will be at the Rotary district conference in Los Angeles (Chile, not California). There is a panel about the Mapuche that looks interesting, but the rest of it looks a little boring. Diane and I are each going to do a five-minute speech on Sunday. Alas, we have still not been able to meet with the president of our club (or rather, she has not been able to meet with us due to illness) to get the projects with the rural school off the ground. I did apply for a program with the Chilean government, though, in which native English-speakers who are studying in Chile serve as teaching assistants for teachers in schools in low-income areas in or near the city and help the kids with learning English. I want to do that and work with the school Rotary sponsors, so I am not signing up for a lot of hours with the government program. Still, it sounds like fun, and maybe it will help me feel like I am actually doing something finally!

More Excursions Outside Conce

noreply@blogger.com (Brandi) — Wed, 16 Apr 2008 17:34:00 +0000

I am shamefully behind in my posts, but I am going to try to sum up the past few excursions I have had since Chillán. I have begun to like Chile even more since I have had more opportunities to get outside the city and into the small towns. Living in Conce is great because there is a lot to do and it has all the conveniences of a major city, but the true soul of Chile seems to be in the rural areas.

The weekend of April 5th and 6th, I went to Cabrero and Talcahuano. A Rotary group exchange from Texas was in town, and the Conce Rotary clubs had planned a trip to a rodeo in Cabrero, which is about an hour outside of Conce. The Texans are four young professionals from the Dalls-Forth Worth area, and their leader is an older Rotarian named Guillermo, who originally hails from Colombia. He is such a cute, sweet little man.

Paola rear-ended someone in the Plaza de Perú before we left, so she and Eduardo had to stay behind and deal with the damages. They are both fine, but the car is in the shop for a while. The club president couldn´t find a babysitter, so she could not go, either. Rosana, who has a doctorate in English, and I were the only reps from the Rayen club. She practiced her English with me on the way. She spent a year as an exchange student in the U.S. when she was 15...in North Dakota. Fun. On the way, just outside Conce, she pointed out the school that the club helps with. When Eduardo had mentioned it to me, I had not thought it would be like this: it was in an old, poorly-built, small building, and Rosana said that many of the kids walk two or more kilometers to get to school. It made me feel very motivated to work with the school.

The rodeo was...interesting, I guess. A Chilean rodeo consists of two men on horseback who corner a young cow (not a calf, but not a full-grown cow, either) and get points based on which part of the cow´s body their horses hit. It wasn´t that fun to watch. I concentrated on the colorful ponchos of the riders instead.

Shortly, we ate lunch. There was a restaurant at the rodeo site, and we ate a nice, meaty alumerzo. After lunch, I petted the horses with the women from the group exchange, and Rosana and I left a little later.

That night, in spite of the car issues, Paola, Eduardo, Diane, Diane's friend Mauricio, and I, as well as a Rotary scholar from Valparaíso named Susan, went to a restaurant called La Tijuana. We ate some good Mexican food, and then we danced to regaaeton and disco in the dance club area. Although we were all exhausted from our trips that day (Susan and Diane had gone to a famous mine about 2 hours away with a group of Diane's friends), we had a good time dancing.

The next day, the six of us went to Talcahuano (about 30 minutes away) to see the Huascar, which was a Peruvian ship that the Chileans overtook in the War of the Pacific in 18-something. I figured out why most towns and cities have a street named Prat--he was a captain who died in combat on the ship. While the history lesson was nice, the sea lions were the highlight of the day for me. On the beach outside a line of restaurants were sea lions bathing in the sun. Chileans (and maybe all Spanish-speakers, not sure) call them ''lobos del mar'' or ''lobos marinos'', which both mean ''sea wolves.'' I thought that was pretty cool. We had our pictures taken near the sea lions (or wolves), but we couldn´t get too close wihthout one of them roaring at us. As we ate lunch, we saw a huge sea lion chasing a man across a parking lot, roaring at him. I do not know what this guy did to piss those sea lions off so badly! The most interesting part of the chase occurred when the man ran across the parking lot away from the sea lion and the animal stopped halfway and hid behind a truck. When the man passed the truck as he was walking back, the sea lion jumped out and roared at him! Slippery thing, that sea lion.

That night, Pablo (Diane´s friend, Mr. Rotaract of the Conce area) had an asado (barbecue) at his house. It was a little chilly, but we had fun anyway. I had my first experience with a pinochetista, though. (A pinochetista is someone who supported/admires Augusto Pinochet, who was essentially a military dictator from 1973-1990. The opinion about him is still pretty mixed, even though he tortured and killed a lot of people, exiled perceived political enemies, and made many young men disappear. His supporters think of him as the savior of the Chilean economy, but they either don´t realize or turn a blind eye to the fact that his ''economic miracle'' fell on the backs of the poor). The pinochetista was, in fact, Pablo. It realy surprised me, because he seemed pretty open-minded before. Still, his family is obviously wealthy and probably benefitted from the regime. I felt disturbed when I found out, and I wondered if I should associate with people who supported human rights abuses. After talking with Scott, I felt better. He said to just treat them like young people in the U.S. who support George Bush. Sorry for those of you who like Bush....

The next trip took place the next day (Monday) when Diane and I went to Penco to visit a rural school. We had no idea how rural it would be--it was a few miles into the woods. The president of the Penco Rotary Club is the principal of the school and invited us to see the children's program celebrating Gabriela Mistral and rural education. A few kids from the school recited some of Mistral's poems, complete with hand gestures, and kids from other schools performed traditional dances of different countries and cultures. I could not stop smiling! During the principal's speech, he talked about how proud he was of the school and of all the services they were able to provide for the kids. These are things we take for granted in the U.S.: transportation to and from school, breakfast and lunch, a nice building, a library, etc. There is a big difference in Chile between rural schools, public city schools, and private city schools. The private schoolchildren receive a higher-quality education, and all of the children, no matter where they went to school, have to take a national test (sort of like the ACT) to get into college. This is the only measurement, and inevitably the children from middle-class or upper-class backgrounds get into college and the poor kids get left behind. It made me sad to look at the kids and wonder how many of them would end up as servants in someone's house or in some other low-paying job. Hopefully with the education reforms that are being implemented to help these kinds of schools the gap will begin to close.

The visit to the school really affected me and made me even more eager to start working on a project or projects with the rural school the Rayen club sponsors. Diane and I will be meeting with the club president next week to discuss some options and arrange a visit to the school. Eduardo suggested tht we teach English, and I would really like to do that. I just worry about what will happen when we leave in December. Some more permanent projects that Diane suggested would be augmenting their library and/or providing sports and recreation equipment. Whatever we do, I can´t wait to get started.

Chillán

noreply@blogger.com (Brandi) — Wed, 09 Apr 2008 18:40:00 +0000

I have been doing a lot of travelling over the past couple of weeks. The last weekend in March, Diane and I went with Eduardo, Paola, and another Rotarian named Alex to Chillán. It was supposed to be a big Rotary club retreat, but people kept dropping out for various reasons. The five of us stayed comfortably in a cabin that could have held six or eight. Chillán is about two hours away from Concepción, and the Termas are in the mountains (or maybe they are the mountains…not sure). It is a big place to go skiing in Chile, but since it is the end of summer/beginning of fall in Chile, it is low season, and there was no snow. The mountains are still beautiful, though.

There is also a casino in the Termas, and we went there Saturday night. I didn´t really know what I was doing, so I played a few rounds on the slot machine and quit. I came out pretty much even, maybe winning one or two dollars! In the casino restaurant, a band was playing American songs from the late seventies and early eighties, so that was fun, and it became more fun with each glass of wine. After the bottle from our table was gone, Diane and I ordered another glass of wine apiece. The waiter, who must have liked us, decided to get the biggest wine glasses they had and fill then almost to the top! By the end of the night, we were all dancing, and Alex videotaped us, which is quite embarrassing. I wasn´t exactly dancing my best.
We left Sunday morning and stopped to visit Alex´s newly-purchased land in the Termas on the way home. He plans to move out there next year, and he will certainly be out in the middle of nowhere! We ate at a mom-and-pop restaurant called La Cocina de Eva (Eva´s Kitchen). I had a very traditional and delicious dish that was a bean soup with longariza (a type of sausage very akin to chorizo). It is a sausage very typical of Chillán.

Chillán is very beautiful, and I can only imagine how amazing it will be in the wintertime. Diane and I have been talking about returning in July or August when it will be nice and snowy. I might take ski lessons. Still, visiting Chillán only in the low season is like going to Salt Lake City or Denver or some other skiing place in the summertime. I will be pretty much missing summer this year, but hopefully things like a trip to Chillán will make a second winter worthwhile.

La Vida Cotidiana Parte II

noreply@blogger.com (Brandi) — Wed, 09 Apr 2008 18:38:00 +0000

For those of you who have been reading regularly, I am sorry for not having updated lately. I have been pretty busy over the past couple of weeks, and have been putting off writing for my blog. Sorry!

Anyway, I want to add a couple of daily-life observations. One is the nana. Her name is Carmen, and she is the maid, cook, door-answerer, etc. It is common for middle-to-upper-class families to have a servant or servants, but it still gets to me a little bit. I feel bad for her having to clean everyone´s rooms, make lunch for at least 10-12 people every day, do the laundry, etc. I don´t see how she does it. I have been trying to make my bed every morning when I get up so that she doesn´t have to. I know she probably thinks nothing of it; it´s part of her job. It makes me feel like I am being lazy and ungrateful, though. I feel embarrassed when I am in a hurry and leave the bed messed up and she makes it. She always finds something to organize in my room though (she doesn´t have to look too hard). I don´t mean to say that Chileans with servants are spoiled or morally inferior; I just mean that it is hard for me to grow accustomed to having someone clean up after me. Only my mama has done that! Now that I am older, I feel bad when my mom makes my bed, too. Just because I leave it messed up doesn´t mean that I expect someone else to make it…..
Another interesting part of daily life is catching on to the chilenismos, or phrases and words that only Chileans use. I am getting used to their dropping the endings off of words and their rapid speech, which even my Honduran housemate finds difficult to comprehend at times. The chilenismos are something else, though. Here is a list I have been composing in my head for a while:

Chilenismo = Spanish = English
Po´ (said after a word, to give emphasis. Ex.: sí, po’)= pues= well, vocal filler
¿Cachai? = ¿Entiendes? = Get it? Or You know?
¿Cómo estai? = ¿Cómo estás? = How are you? (informal)
Polera = camiseta = t-shirt
Micro = autobús = city bus
Huevón = hombre, guey = man, dude (but it can also be vulgar. I am not exactly sure when!)
Hueonear = the verb of huevón
Che = argentine/a = Argentine
Copete = cóctel = cocktail, or could also mean any kind of drink
Arrender = alquilar = to rent
La pieza = la habitación, el dormitorio = bedroom
Choclo = maíz = corn, but a Little more sour than our kind of corn
Cartera = bolso = purse
Carrete = fiesta = party
Mechón = college freshman

That is all I can think of right now, but I am sure I will add more to the list.

La Vida Cotidiana

noreply@blogger.com (Brandi) — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 03:14:00 +0000

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.

El Puerto de Lebu

noreply@blogger.com (Brandi) — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 02:51:00 +0000

Last Saturday, the 22nd, Eduardo and Paola took me to a port town called Lebu. During the tw0-hour drive, they pointed out the eucalyptus and pine forests. Unlike other places in Chile, after harvesting the trees, they replant them in these forests. I wish I had asked to stop so I could have taken pictures.

Lebu is so beautiful. The smell of the river made me think of going to the Tennessee river in the summer. It's not exactly a good smell, but it brought back memories and a twinge of homesickness. That didn't last for long, though, once we went to the sea side of Lebu. The river and the ocean mix together at the Boca de Lebu (mouth of Lebu). We drove to a beach that had caverns called Las Cavernas de Benavides. It was fascinating to go inside the cavern and look at the ocean through the opening. The most impressive had more ocean on the other side, and as we turned a corner, I heard flute music that seemed like it was playing the soundtrack of the cavern. Once we got to the other side of the curve, I saw that there was a floutist. Very good idea. Really sets the mood.

On that side, Paola and I climbed over some rocks that had been smoothed by years of ocean waves runnign over them. We went to a place that is a real oddity: ther was a hole in one of the rock formations, and it has an opening somewhere in which waves splash in and make a really loud noise. That was pretty cool.

The ocean and all the rock formations on the shores made me think of the hardened lava on the beaches of Kona. I chastise myself for always comparing something I've seen somewhere else to what I see here. This is not Spain, Mexico, Hawaii, or the continental U.S. It's Chile. Still, aren't historians supposed to draw comparisons? I really do like it here. I cannot emphasize enough how nice the people are. That's one difference with Spain. I don't have to worry about annoyed looks or impatient old men here! I feel like I'm cheating on Spain a little, but it has only been two weeks. I stil have plenty of time to adjust.

Firsts

noreply@blogger.com (Brandi) — Thu, 20 Mar 2008 00:18:00 +0000

This week, I had my first classes and my first Rotary club meeting. Everything went really well. I'm still nervous because they haven't resolved my application/admission problems yet, and tomorrow is the last day to sign up for classes (I've been attending this week without actually being enrolled). I'm going to go harrass them at the Graduate School office tomorrow. I feel bad for not having applied when I should have, but I really was confused about the application date! Scott was there, and he knows that I followed the link in the email, and on that page it said that the last day to apply was Jan. 1. I should have opened the damned attachment, which had the correct date on it, but it had the same name as an attachment that had already been sent to me. I feel so disorganized. I hate having to explain to everyone here what happened, because it makes me regret more and more that I didn't open that attachment!

Bueno, I'm doing the best I can right now. Monday, I met with Professor Robles, who is the new director of graduate studies in the History Dept. He's very young and really helpful. He told me that the history professors at the UdeC are really conservative, and that if I tried to propose anything outside their ideology (such as calling Pinochet a dictator rather than a president), then I would not be successful nor have a happy experience. He told me which professors I should take, and one of them is Alejandra Brito, who is a good friend of UNM history prof Dr. Liz Hutchison. The other class is with an American professor (it's taught in Spanish, of course), Susan Foote.

Dra. Foote's class is about analyzing testimonies as both historical sources and literary works. We're also going to look at poetry as testimony. It's actually a literature grad course, but it is cross-listed as a history grad seminar. I participated in class when we were analyzing a poem, and I felt very proud of myself! Some of the guys in the class (there are 5 of us total) speak very fast, and it is hard to understand them. Every day, though, I understand more and have to ask for fewer repetitions. Seriously, Chilean Spanish is very close to Cuban Spanish, as if the speaker's tongue were swollen. I love it, though. It's very pretty. I imagine my experience right now is akin to someone who learned British English and went to study in Tennesse or some other Southern state!

My other class, which is with Dra. Brito, is going to be not only interesting, but also helpful for my thesis. It's called, "Gender, Power, and History." We're reading a lot of the classics on gender analysis, as well as some works about Chile. I'm really excited about it. I actually have a leg up on the other students since I took Dr. Ferguson's seminar on the history of sexuality. I have already read the basic texts (Foucault, Scott, some Butler, Laqueur, etc.), so all I need to do is refresh myself on those.

Those are the only two classes I am taking. My undergraduate house-mates can't believe it, but that's how it is in grad school in the U.S., too. Two classes (6 hours) is full time for a grad student, and rightfully so! I didn't want to take another since a) the classes are in Spanish and will therefore require more work on my part, b) I have other responsibilities with Rotary, c) These classes are probably not going to count for any degree I get, and d) I'm in freaking Chile and want to enjoy my time here rather than spend it chained to a desk.

Anyway, I also had my first Rotary club meeting and speech last night. It was at my host club, which is a young club consisting of young professionals in the thrities and forties. It's the first club in Conce to mix men and women! Diane had already given two speeches the week before, so she had her presentation down pat. I basically did what I always do, which is more or less to shoot from the hip. A better term would be "extemporaneous." That's what we learned in public speaking. I had a power point with different maps and country music and bluegrass stars and scenes from Tennessee and Kentucky. I figured I'd keep my first presentation pretty light. I'll add some stuff about the economy for the more conservative clubs. I gave a little quiz at the end, and the people who answered first got small bottles of whisky (jack, jim, and makers), a Nashville shot glass, and a mix CD of classic country and bluegrass. I don't know if I'll do any of that for my other presentations. Maybe the CD's, but no more whisky. I don't know that it would be received as well as it was at this club.

So, in sum, I'm very happy with both my classes and my Rotary stuff. Diane and I are giving another speech Tuesday at another club, and we're going out tomorrow night with some of the Rotaracters (college-level Rotary) tomorrow night. I'm feeling more and more at home every day. (And by the way, yet another student moved in last night! His name is Milton, and he's from Bolivia. What is up with these Latin-American guys with anglo names?) Anyway, for now I'll say chau chau, and que les vaya bien.

Settling In

noreply@blogger.com (Brandi) — Thu, 20 Mar 2008 00:17:00 +0000

Eduardo and Paola took me to the university and to eat at a seafood restaurant that evening. The university is so beautiful. A large clock sits in the center, and it is the main landmark of the university. As we were walking across the U, a procession of mechones (freshman) passed by. The second-year students make the mechones do crazy stuff during the first weeks of school, and then the different departments throw parties. It’s all in good fun—I don’t think they have them do some of the things that fraternities do to their new initiates.
The seafood restaurant was simple but very good. I need to work on my seafood vocabulary! I also tried two typical beers, a Guzman and an Austral with calefate, which is a fruit from the southernmost part of Chile. The latter resembled an apricot beer, and it was my favorite. I felt like I was going to explode after the restaurant. It’s a little difficult to eat such a heavy meal at 10:00 pm, but I’m sure I’ll adjust.

The next day, as we were searching for a pension, we met Diane. As it turns out, Paola is Diane’s host counselor. She is from Arizona and is studying law. She’s very sweet, has a quiet voice, and is very organized—she reminds me a lot of Tera Rica. She lives in a pension near mine, but is paying a little more. The four of us were walking to an advertised pension when an older lady approached us and told us that she, too, has a pension in a house just across the street. The house was absolutely gorgeous and very large. She was very lively and cute in her red platform shoes. She showed us the room that was available, and it reminded me a lot of a Southern room. The wallpaper was sage green with pink roses, and the carpet matched the green of the wallpaper. I would have half of the room, and she would have the rest in which to put some of her things. I would have all my meals and laundry service. For around $460 a month, especially with such a good location, we were sold on it. I moved into Tia Lucia’s pension the next day.
Before I moved in, though, I had to get some things straightened out. I am still not registered at the U, and the secretary, Lilian, said that the system wasn’t ready yet, but when it was, she would help me register. In the meantime, I can start classes. I met Dr. Valdes, who helped me so much before I came here. He wasn’t as lively as I’d imagined, but he is still very friendly and helpful. When explaining things to me, he took long pauses and looked out the window in thought. These pauses were sometimes awkwardly long! I think he is a person who is very careful with his words.

Friday morning, Paola took me to the police station to get my visa validated. She left me there for a long time, thinking it would be a while before I would be seen. One of the officers let me use the internet to look up Eduardo’s number, and we called him to get Paola’s. We got ahold of her, and she came back quickly, not realizing I had been waiting for an hour! Then, we had lunch and a cute little restaurant run by friends of Eduardo’s, and then I went to a doctor and friend of Paola’s who gave me a medical certificate of good health, which I need for my registration, even though I had had to get one for my student visa as well. We went to the pharmacy to get some calomine lotion for my mosquito bites, which are still plaguing my ankles and the backs of my knees, and then we checked out a gym next door that I plan to join tomorrow. It’s super nice, with TV’s in all the cardio machines, lots of strength-training machines, and classes that seem like they would be fun.

That afternoon, I moved into the pension. Right now, they are in the process of moving from a house down the street into this one, but things are falling into place. I ate supper at the other house. I met Carlos, a friend of la Tia who comes around to help out with things, Sadi, a young Cuban woman who has an eight-year-old son named Arturo, Pancha, and Coni. After supper, la Tia, Sadi, Carlos, Pancha, and I went to the supermarket. It reminded me a lot of a super Wal-Mart. I bought some milk, cereal, water, coke zero, and marshmallow Easter eggs to eat and some toiletries and school supplies. Tia Lucia and I slept in the new house, and the rest of the people moved in the next day, Saturday.

That day, yesterday, I met Allen and Piero, the two guys who share a room upstairs. They are very friendly, and Allen especially is very outgoing. I arranged my room, and then joined the others for almuerzo, or lunch. We had empanadas and barbecued chicken, and both were very tasty. That night, we had an asado, or barbecue, on the back patio. It was essentially a meat fest. As the meat was grilling, Carlos, a dance instructor, taught me some salsa pasos and techniques. If I have time (which is doubtful), I’d really like to take lessons from him. Later, he danced with a 15-year-old girl who had been taking lessons from him for three months, and she danced fantastically. I would love to be able to dance like that by the time I get back to the Albuquerque salsa clubs.

Last night after the asado, I went out with Allen, Piero, their friend and classmate Andrea, and another friend of theirs. We went to one of their friends’ 20th birthday party (all of them are 19 or 20, in their second year). The guy’s dad threw him the party, complete with alcohol. I love Catholic countries. In the Protestant U.S., that rarely happens.
At the party, I tried my first piscola, which is a mixture of pisco and coca-cola. It was really good. The pizza was also good—it had corn as a topping! My ability to speak Spanish increased as I drank more. I conversed mainly with Andrea and Allen. Andrea speaks English, so any time we wanted to say something that we didn’t want Allen to hear, we’d say it in English. It’s pretty obvious that Allen has a crush on Andrea. They would be really cute together. I also learned a new phrase, but I think it is an inside joke created by Allen: for people who are snobby, they are called “fucking.” He says that Andrea is “media-fucking,” since she went to a rich kids’ school but still associates with the plebs. I thought that was pretty funny. I’ll have to adopt that phrase.

Sunday, we had another asado for almuerzo. It was nice sitting on the patio, eating, and enjoying the sun. Here, it is the end of summer, like the end of August or beginning of September at home. It should be warming up for spring at home, and it will be weird when winter comes in place of my normal summer!
I am understanding Chilean Spanish a little better each day, and I’ve been here less than a week. Maybe I’ll understand 95% of it in a month. I hope so, at least! Still, the people here are fantastic, and I think I will continue to be very happy here. School starts Monday the 17th, so we’ll see how that goes!

Settling In

noreply@blogger.com (Brandi) — Thu, 20 Mar 2008 00:17:00 +0000

Eduardo and Paola took me to the university and to eat at a seafood restaurant that evening. The university is so beautiful. A large clock sits in the center, and it is the main landmark of the university. As we were walking across the U, a procession of mechones (freshman) passed by. The second-year students make the mechones do crazy stuff during the first weeks of school, and then the different departments throw parties. It’s all in good fun—I don’t think they have them do some of the things that fraternities do to their new initiates.
The seafood restaurant was simple but very good. I need to work on my seafood vocabulary! I also tried two typical beers, a Guzman and an Austral with calefate, which is a fruit from the southernmost part of Chile. The latter resembled an apricot beer, and it was my favorite. I felt like I was going to explode after the restaurant. It’s a little difficult to eat such a heavy meal at 10:00 pm, but I’m sure I’ll adjust.

The next day, as we were searching for a pension, we met Diane. As it turns out, Paola is Diane’s host counselor. She is from Arizona and is studying law. She’s very sweet, has a quiet voice, and is very organized—she reminds me a lot of Tera Rica. She lives in a pension near mine, but is paying a little more. The four of us were walking to an advertised pension when an older lady approached us and told us that she, too, has a pension in a house just across the street. The house was absolutely gorgeous and very large. She was very lively and cute in her red platform shoes. She showed us the room that was available, and it reminded me a lot of a Southern room. The wallpaper was sage green with pink roses, and the carpet matched the green of the wallpaper. I would have half of the room, and she would have the rest in which to put some of her things. I would have all my meals and laundry service. For around $460 a month, especially with such a good location, we were sold on it. I moved into Tia Lucia’s pension the next day.
Before I moved in, though, I had to get some things straightened out. I am still not registered at the U, and the secretary, Lilian, said that the system wasn’t ready yet, but when it was, she would help me register. In the meantime, I can start classes. I met Dr. Valdes, who helped me so much before I came here. He wasn’t as lively as I’d imagined, but he is still very friendly and helpful. When explaining things to me, he took long pauses and looked out the window in thought. These pauses were sometimes awkwardly long! I think he is a person who is very careful with his words.

Friday morning, Paola took me to the police station to get my visa validated. She left me there for a long time, thinking it would be a while before I would be seen. One of the officers let me use the internet to look up Eduardo’s number, and we called him to get Paola’s. We got ahold of her, and she came back quickly, not realizing I had been waiting for an hour! Then, we had lunch and a cute little restaurant run by friends of Eduardo’s, and then I went to a doctor and friend of Paola’s who gave me a medical certificate of good health, which I need for my registration, even though I had had to get one for my student visa as well. We went to the pharmacy to get some calomine lotion for my mosquito bites, which are still plaguing my ankles and the backs of my knees, and then we checked out a gym next door that I plan to join tomorrow. It’s super nice, with TV’s in all the cardio machines, lots of strength-training machines, and classes that seem like they would be fun.

That afternoon, I moved into the pension. Right now, they are in the process of moving from a house down the street into this one, but things are falling into place. I ate supper at the other house. I met Carlos, a friend of la Tia who comes around to help out with things, Sadi, a young Cuban woman who has an eight-year-old son named Arturo, Pancha, and Coni. After supper, la Tia, Sadi, Carlos, Pancha, and I went to the supermarket. It reminded me a lot of a super Wal-Mart. I bought some milk, cereal, water, coke zero, and marshmallow Easter eggs to eat and some toiletries and school supplies. Tia Lucia and I slept in the new house, and the rest of the people moved in the next day, Saturday.

That day, yesterday, I met Allen and Piero, the two guys who share a room upstairs. They are very friendly, and Allen especially is very outgoing. I arranged my room, and then joined the others for almuerzo, or lunch. We had empanadas and barbecued chicken, and both were very tasty. That night, we had an asado, or barbecue, on the back patio. It was essentially a meat fest. As the meat was grilling, Carlos, a dance instructor, taught me some salsa pasos and techniques. If I have time (which is doubtful), I’d really like to take lessons from him. Later, he danced with a 15-year-old girl who had been taking lessons from him for three months, and she danced fantastically. I would love to be able to dance like that by the time I get back to the Albuquerque salsa clubs.

Last night after the asado, I went out with Allen, Piero, their friend and classmate Andrea, and another friend of theirs. We went to one of their friends’ 20th birthday party (all of them are 19 or 20, in their second year). The guy’s dad threw him the party, complete with alcohol. I love Catholic countries. In the Protestant U.S., that rarely happens.
At the party, I tried my first piscola, which is a mixture of pisco and coca-cola. It was really good. The pizza was also good—it had corn as a topping! My ability to speak Spanish increased as I drank more. I conversed mainly with Andrea and Allen. Andrea speaks English, so any time we wanted to say something that we didn’t want Allen to hear, we’d say it in English.

Sunday, we had another asado for almuerzo. It was nice sitting on the patio, eating, and enjoying the sun. Here, it is the end of summer, like the end of August or beginning of September at home. It should be warming up for spring at home, and it will be weird when winter comes in place of my normal summer!
I am understanding Chilean Spanish a little better each day, and I’ve been here less than a week. Maybe I’ll understand 95% of it in a month. I hope so, at least! Still, the people here are fantastic, and I think I will continue to be very happy here. School starts Monday the 17th, so we’ll see how that goes!

Going to Concepcion

noreply@blogger.com (Brandi) — Thu, 20 Mar 2008 00:12:00 +0000

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.