Who's to blame?

I guess I should start at the beginning. I'm taking care of my friend R.'s bunny. His name is Apolo and he's the greatest bunny in the world, in my completely objective and humble opinion. :) But this isn't a story about Apolo, although I guess one could say that he indirectly caused all of the commotion.


Or maybe we should blame R.'s boyfriend, because he is allergic to sawdust so R. uses newspaper in Apolo's cage. It's a good idea, because it makes way less mess than sawdust. The only disadvantage is you have to cut up newspaper for Apolo's "litter box" that goes in his cage. Yes, this bunny knows to only use his litter box. He's so smart. Because of all this, I have a big plastic bag full of cut up newspapers that I keep between the fridge and the counter in the kitchen.

It gets cold in Santiago this time of year and I wanted to make a cup of tea, so I guess this could all be my fault. I had the cup of tea all ready minus the sugar when I realized the sugar bowl was empty. I set the cup of tea down to refill the sugar bowl. There wasn't quite enough room on the counter, so I tried to slide the cup of tea over with the sugar bowl (I was holding both the sugar bowl and the bag of sugar). Of course, the cup of tea tumbled over and spilled all over my bag of cut up newspaper (that I had spent all afternoon yesterday cutting). I tried to salvage what I could of the newspaper and put it in another bag.

Meanwhile, Charlie thought the tea-soaked bag would be a fun toy.


When I snapped this picture, it somehow startled him and he took off flying, bag and all. I thought it was funny, and since I had the camera in my hand, I started to video it. Little did I know, poor Charlie had the bag stuck on his head! His head had gone through one of the handles.


Sorry for my kitty voice. I know it's annoying but I can't help it. Also, that's Mike Birbiglia in the background from this week's episode of This American Life.

Charlie is totally fine. I just scooped him up, brought him to the kitchen and snipped off the bag. He was a bit embarrassed after, but he's already over it.


So, whose fault is this? What do you think? Is it...

a) Apolo's, because it was newspaper for his cage.
b) R's boyfriend, for being alergic to sawdust and thus necessitating the newspaper
c) Mine, for wanting the cup of tea and then spilling the cup of tea, then startling Charlie with the camera.
d) Charlie's, for playing with the bag

But really, take away one of the actors, and none of it would have happened.

Para subir el ánimo un poquito...

Este post tiene que ser en castellano. Pronto entenderán por qué.

Todos nosotros aquí en Chile estamamos tristes y deprimidos por el triunfo de Brasil sobre Chile. O sea, no voy a comentar mucho, pero basta decir que Brasil era el mejor equipo hoy día. Sin embargo, es mi más sincero deseo que algun día Chile le gana a Brasil.

Bueno, para levantarnos el ánimo, tengo un chiste que el padre de F. me contó hoy día. Él quería saber si iba a entender el chiste porque hay que entender castellano bastante bien. Lo entendí, y me reí mucho.

Aquí va:

Dos amigos están conversando en la casa de uno de ellos. El hombre que está de visita le dice al otro, "Pucha que tengo ganas de hacer el amor con una vieja, de verdad quiero tirarme una vieja." Mirando y señalando al techo, el antifrión le dice, "Mi mamá esta durmiendo arriba! Baja la voz!" Y el otro le dice, "Pero tení más confianza con ella... bájala voh!"

Jajajajajaja.

I know it's extremely unlikely...

...but I would REALLY like it if Chile could pull off a win today.

Just sayin'.

An Update from the Crazy Cat Lady

Charlie is growing like a weed. He's almost six months old! That means that in a couple of weeks he'll be getting surgery, yes, surgery to remove his BALLS. OH MY GOD HOW COULD YOU TAKE AWAY HIS MASCULINITY? (That's what a lot of Chileans are thinking right now; read Andrea's great post on the subject)

Anyway, I'd like to take this time to share one of Charlie's stranger habits. He loves human food. In the past, I've experienced cats who like the usual: tuna, chicken, milk, etc. Normal foods that normal cats like. Charlie, on the other hand, has a finer palate. He loves yogurt and waits patiently to lick out my bowl every morning. He's eaten peaches, rice and sun dried tomatoes. He likes tomato sauce and cheese. And today I discovered he'll eat lettuce and have video proof! Now before I show you this video, I have to make a few excuses. First of all, I've lost the battle against him jumping up on the table. I was sick last week and didn't have the energy to make him get down. Now it's a lost battle. 99% of the time, I don't let him eat off my plate while he's on the table. But today I was so engrossed reading something online, I didn't realize he was crunching on the left over lettuce on my plate. Also, Mom, I aplogize for sniffling. I know you hate that.

Without further ado...Charlie the Lettuce Cruncher.



Stay tuned for more crazy Charlie antics from the Crazy Cat Lady.

Foul, simply foul.

As Betty Draper from Mad Men would say, I'm in a foul mood.

Granted, my husband hasn't cheated on me recently nor am I pregnant with my third child and look like "an open umbrella", but speaking of umbrellas it's raining and I HATE RAIN.

So bear with me as this is going to be a rant.

My day started off fine. It wasn't raining, I had a nice private class, I watched part of the US-Slovenia soccer game (granted not the part when they scored, but YAY USA!) and then headed off to my class with the Brazilians. If you don't remember the Brazilians, read about them here.

Things have actually gotten better with this class. A new student joined us, and it changed the dynamic for the better. That being said, it is still a constant struggle and it is by far my least favorite class.

So anyway, I'm at the place where we have class, which is a language institute to learn Portuguese. We usually use Classroom 1, so I went there to start setting up for my class. I was all set up when a woman I didn't know walked in. I asked her (in Spanish) if she was a new student. She looked at me in a horrified way and informed me (in Portuñol) that no, that this was her classroom and what was I doing there and please leave right away.

Then I remembered that my class had changed times, so I apologized (she seemed very upset) and asked who I could talk to about changing rooms. She started asking me rapid fire questions in Portuñol which I couldn't understand, so I asked her to speak a little slower. She asked me if I spoke Spanish. I said, "Yes, but I don't speak Portuguese." With that, she informed me that she was speaking Spanish (could have fooled me) and that I had to talk to Dulce, but Dulce was on vacation until July, so she didn't know who I could talk to, but she thought the auditorium upstairs was available (she also wrote the words Dulce, Julho (Julio?) and auditorio on the board) When someone says auditorium I picture a stage with stadium seating and a red curtain, so I politely asked if there were smaller classrooms available since I only had three students. Uuuuf! Bad mistake. She got really pissed then and told me how they were doing my students a favor by lending their classrooms and that we should be happy and not complain.

Woah there lady. SOR-RY. So I gathered my things and went up to the "auditorium" which is a sort of biggish room with a raised area (i.e. stage) in front. Totally fine. Then, as I'm trying to set up for class, she keeps going on and on about how lucky my students are that they are letting us use this space and how I shouldn't complain about the auditorium being so large and how she's a teacher (hello, I'm a teacher too) and how teachers need their own space to work and blah blah blah I stopped listening. When she finished, I put on my fakest smile and said "Muchas gracias!" and she got the hint and left.

I think she and the lady in my class are sisters or something, because they have the same exact attitude.

Then, class. It was a definite step back from our improvements. I won't go into specifics here, but let's just say that grown women should not pout. It's not becoming. Also, I should get sainted or knighted or something for having so much patience with this class. It's so exhausting that I'm nodding off writing this.

AGGGGHHHHHH!!!!

And now it's pouring rain and I have to leave in another hour to go to teach two other classes when all I want to do is curl up in bed and never leave.

Brought to you by Transantiago, Act Three

Here it is, the third act of my crazy public transportation circus.

Act Three: Drunken Rowdiness to Really Bad Flute in B Flat
Scene: Micro on the Alameda, 12:00am. Eileen and I are coming back from Leigh's goodbye party, standing in the back half of a double bus. A trio drunk men in their early 20s are talking and laughing loudly about something.

Enter Really Bad Flute Player. He starts to play a rendition of Tabaco y Chanel by Bacilos.

Eileen: He's one of the worst I've heard.
Me: Worst flute player or worst bus performer?
Eileen: You've seen worse?
Me: Yes, worse singers. Who clap.

Trio of drunk men really like RBFP. They attentively pay attention to him and clap along to his "music". RBFP finishes playing and asks for money. The trio of drunk men don't give him any. Neither do many other people.

Eileen: I'm getting off at the next stop.
Me: Okay.

One of the trio stands up in his seat and starts making some sort of "announcement" to the rest of the bus.

Eileen (worried): Text me when you get home.
Me: Yeah, of course.

Eileen gets off the bus, I go sit towards the front of the bus next to a sleeping old man.

Bus approaches Plaza Italia and one of the trio goes running up to the bus driver, followed by another member of his cohort, tripping and laughing down the aisle. Then they run back and tell their friend something, then the last one runs up to the bus driver, then they all get off at the next stop. With all the commotion, sleeping old man wakes up.

SOM: ¿Dónde estamos?
Me: En la Plaza Italia.
SOM: ¿Plaza Italia? ¿En Providencia?
Me: Sí.
SOM: Chuuuuuu, me pasé pero caleta. ¡Me quedé dormido!
Me: Pucha. Que le vaya bien.

SOM gets off the bus and Creepy McCreepster moves from the back to sit across the aisle from me. He stares at me and smiles creepishly. Three youngish men approach the door to get off at the next stop. I take one look at Creepy McCreepster (who is still staring) and at the last possible moment, get off the bus with the three men near Salvador with Providencia. I take a taxi the rest of the way home and text Eileen, who has also made it home safe and sound.

I love you, Chile!

People always ask me why I like living in Chile.

THIS is why I like living in Chile. This moment right now, when the whole country is celebrating Chile's win over Switzerland.

I like living in Chile because when Alexis Sanchez scored I got goosebumps and cheered. When the goal was called back for off-sides, I jumped up and down with rage.

And when Mark González scored after SEVENTY FIVE minutes of tense play, I celebrated with 16 million people, all throughout this long and skinny country. I think the commentator said it best when he said "POR DIOS QUE HEMOS AGUANTADO!"

When I go outside in a few minutes, I won't have to put on my grumpy street face. Instead, I will be smiling and chanting and cheering with everyone else.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little choked up right now. I love you, Chile. Thanks for winning and making me and your entire country happy.

I could have written this PostSecret...

...except now it's not a secret.

Happy Father's Day, Daddy. I love you.

Brought to you by Transantiago

On Thursday, Transantiago raised its prices again. Micro rides are now $480 pesos, normal hour metro rides (or any combination with a metro) are $500 and peak hours on the metro now cost $560 pesos. When I first arrived in Santiago in 2007, right before the institution of Transantiago, it cost $380 pesos for the micro/metro and $420 for peak hours on the metro.

In honor of their price increase, Transantiago decided to sponsor some downright strange events aboard their vehicles, starring a crazy old homeless man, many inebriated fellows and one creepy guy with me, a micro driver and some onlookers in supporting roles

Act One: Crazy Homeless Man
Scene: Micro 503 on Providencia, around 12:30 PM. I am standing near the front, looking bored, wondering how long the line at Servipag will be.

Enter Crazy Homeless Man. CHM takes a wet dirty shoe out of his bag and then takes some soggy 1000 peso bills out of the shoe. I space out, wondering if I'll have time to eat lunch today.

CHM: Conshe***** cul**** por qué ch***** me estaí mirando?

I look around to see who he's talking to. Realize he's talking to me. Realize I may have spaced out in his general direction.

CHM: *&$(CHM: *&$($&@)@)!&(@*!!!
amp;@)@)!&(@*!!!

CHM starts advancing towards me and I look around to see if anyone is going to help me. Some old women look at each other and a guy with headphones in yawns. I have to get off soon anyway, so I move towards the exit.

CHM: &!^@%#^+#*@&

Bus driver realizes what is happening and stops the bus, comes back and makes CHM get off the bus.

Me: Gracias.
Busdriver: No hay de que. Hay que respetar a las señoritas.

I think, don't we have to respect everyone? But ok. I get off the bus at the next stop and wait 40 minutes in line at the ServiPag.

Act Two: Flaites Curados

Scene: Metro Line One, Direction San Pablo, 8:00 PM. I am on a crowded train somewhere near the door. I smell stale alcohol. Three young men behind me speak in coa and are obviously inebriated.

Flaite 1: Santa Lucia, bajamos ahi y nos tomamos la micro (unintelligible)
Flaite 2: No (unintelligible) bajamos en Baquedanos y tomamos la linea 5 (unintelligible)
Flaite 3: (Unintelligible, but something about some girl on the train, vulgar)

I look towards the area between cars to see if I can move away from these guys. They give me the creeps and smell like booze. The train stops at Salvador and I begin to move away from them.

Flaite 1: Adone vai linda? Tan linda, tan preciosa.
Flaite 2: Uuuuy siiii. Que rrrrrica la rubiacita.
Flaite 3: Sí, mira que sonría un poco. Iwal le gusta.

I do not smile one bit and successfully move a bit away. The flaites keep talking about me.

Onlooker 1: Dején de huevearla, por dios que son desubicaos.
Flaite 2: (Unintelligible, but something vulgar about Onlooker 1)

Thankfully, they decide to get off at Baquedano and take Line 5 to wherever they were going.

Act Three: Drunken Rowdiness to Really Bad Flute in B flat.

Feeling better

I woke up this morning feeling almost 100%. Yay!

I think I was better at being sick this time. Usually I'm bad at resting and not doing anything. I think, well, if I'm going to not go to work and have all this free time, I should take advantage! I should mop my floor and go to the grocery store and clean my bathtub! But this time, I either laid in my bed or on my couch and watched an insane number of episodes of Mad Men and slept the rest of the time.

I did have to venture to the grocery store, because around 6:00pm yesterday I got hungry for the first time since Wednesday at lunch, but I had no good "sick" food. Around 6:45 I finally mustered up enough energy to put on somewhat decent clothing. So I went to the worst grocery store in Santiago (Lider, corner of 11 de Septiembre and Manuel Montt) because it's also the closest and got some essentials. I was still feeling shitty and everyone in that store was pissing me off 100000 times more than normal. The store is so small and there are always so many people in it, that it's hard to maneuver. I had waited in line to get some bread, and it was finally my turn. I was struggling more than normal with the plastic bag (those damn things are hard to open!) because my fine motor skills had somehow gone to the dogs. The people behind me were a bit impatient and kept sighing. Whatever. Then this lady tried to pass with her cart past me and everyone else in line, in a space that is barely big enough for a cart to pass through if there aren't 6 people waiting for the bread. She obviously got stuck and started yelling at me for being in the way! She asked me to move, which was literally impossible, so I said, "Y para dónde piensa que puedo mover? Me tiene encerrado aquí con el carrito." (Where do you think I can move to? You have me trapped here with your cart.) To which she mumbled something under her breath and moved her cart back to where she came from.

Then I forgot to weigh my bananas, because the bananas are at the entrance to the store, not with the rest of the fruits and veggies, so it slipped my mind. After waiting an eternity in line (and by this point, my tiny energy reserve was running on empty) the cashier looks at me like I'm an idiot and said, "Hay que pesar los platanos." (You have to weigh the bananas). Aggggh! So I just said whatever and put them aside, and bought them from the vegetable stand next door even though they were 50 pesos/kilo more expensive. Then of course the cashier couldn't understand my RUT for Club Lider and I had to say it three times. And she had the nerve to offer me a Sanhe Nus at only $989 pesos to which I said "No," when I normally say "No, gracias." (No, thank you) and I felt like saying "Obviously I don't want any of your stupid chocolate because I'm sick and have just spent 15 minutes waiting in line only for you to waste more of my time asking me about a chocolate bar!"

Needless to say, it was a stressful trip to the grocery store and I had to take a nap when I got back. But, when I woke up I made chicken soup and drank ginger ale and all was good.

Take the bad with the good

Today started off wonderfully. Chile beat Honduras 1-0 and everyone in Chile cheered. Then, I had some pleasant news professionally which I can't really get into here, but it made me feel very good and hopefully opened up a great new opportunity.

Then, as I was halfway through my afternoon class, the stomach pains started. It was awful. But luckily, they are an understanding class and played cards and chatted while I tried not to pass out. If they had been adults I would have told them to leave, but since they were teens I decided to wait it out. I actually started to feel better in my break between classes, and since my next class we were just reviewing, I figured I could tough it out.

Bad idea. Cramps turned into something less pleasant and I found myself rushing to the bathroom mid-class. I let them go 20 minutes early and took a cab home.

This is where the day really went downhill. It was one of those cabs where the meter is off and goes up $200 pesos every 100 meters instead of $100 pesos. I'm no idiot. I figured this out right away. But I was in so much pain and had so little energy I just couldn't bring myself to complain. I just paid the whopping $2400 pesos it cost me to get home (usually it's around $1000-$1500, depending on traffic) and muttered "Chao, weon" as I left the taxi. I don't think he heard me.

So now I'm sitting in bed and trying not to think about my stomach pains so I'm blogging and sipping on mint tea. I'm exhausted, so hopefully I can fall asleep soon.

So in sum, YAY CHILE!! BOO stomach ache and dishonest taxi drivers.

Father vs. Son

It's halftime of the USA-England game and it's 1-1! I can hardly believe it. Everyone I've talked to expected England to CREAM the US, so this is a pleasant surprise. Of course, the game isn't over yet, and I'm excited to see what happens. A friend said that this game is like padre vs. hijo (father vs. son), but I have to say that the son is holding his own.

I'm watching the game online because I still don't have a TV. The transmission is pretty good, but the commentators are Mexican so it's pretty funny to listen to their accent, and they way they pronounce the English last names. On a related note, it's equally as funny to listen to US baseball commentators pronounce the Spanish last names.

Aaaaand we're back. Go USA! (Well, for now, as long as they aren't playing against Chile.)

A Challenge

I have a confession to make. I actually didn't even realize this myself until today, but I have never ever taught TRUE beginners English. I've taught the first level of English to teenagers. But this doesn't count because 99.9% of the time, Chilean teenagers are never true beginners. They have English classes at school so they at least know something.

Today I started a first-level class. The people I'm teaching are Brazilian. They speak Spanish, but not so well. Normally, this shouldn't matter. English classes are taught, well, in English, so it shouldn't matter what their native tongue is.

I started out with introductions. "Hi, Hello, I'm Abby, How are you, etc." It was really slow going. They didn't know what "Hello" or "Hi" was. Nothing. They knew NO English.

This was just a bit mind boggling to me. I mean, I understand that there are people in the world that have had absolutely no contact with English. However, due to the international nature of these peoples' jobs, I thought that they would at least have had minimal contact with the English language during their career, not to mention on TV, in music, or in film.

Anyway the going got tough when we got to "Nice to meet you." They asked what it meant. I mimed the conversation again. I told them to think about what they say in Spanish/Portuguese when they meet someone for the first time. One student understood and asked if it meant "Mucho gusto." I said yes. Another student didn't understand. She asked me what it meant. Instead of telling her, I asked the student who understood. He said "Mucho gusto" again.

Then, out of nowhere, she started yelling at me. She asked me why I didn't just tell her what it meant. I was caught off guard and tried to explain to her about methodology and speaking all in English, and how I'm going to try not to translate (I said this in Spanish). She didn't like this. Not one bit. Frustrated, she started yelling at me in Portuguese, and I only understood about half. When she was done, I didn't know what to say, so I just kind of stared at her, then suggested we move on.

The rest of the class, she wouldn't look at me. She didn't want to participate. When I asked her to
practice with another student, she just said "I don't understand" (in Spanish).

Learning a language is hard, not just on a practical level. Our job as English teachers is very psychological as well. We have to create an environment in which the students feel that it's okay to make mistakes and make fools of themselves. I'm afraid I inadvertently ruined the environment for this particular student on the first day when I told her I wasn't going to translate. To her, that was just too scary, and she panicked. She put up a block that made her unwilling and therefore unable to understand anything the rest of the class.

I hope that throughout the course I'm able to win her back, to break down her barrier and instill in her the confidence to make a fool of herself in the name of learning English.

Because if not, man it's going to be a long 15 weeks.

World Cup on my Mind

The 2010 World Cup (Copa mundial or Copa del mundo in Spanish) starts in four days on June 11th with matches between South Africa and Mexico and Uruguay with France. Chile is in Group H with Honduras, Switzerland and Spain and debuts on next Wednesday June 16th at 7:30am against Honduras.

I was in El Salvador for the 2006 World Cup and I'm happy to be in Chile, although now I'm unhappy I don't have a TV. I think it will be awkward to go to a bar at 7:30 am to watch a soccer match, yes? I'm looking into getting a TV before the big game though.

The Chilean National Team, known as La Roja

People have asked me whether I will root for Chile or the USA. It's obvious to me that I will root for Chile. I've never followed US Soccer, and the first time I watched a whole soccer game was outside the US (in El Salvador). It's not something I associate with my home country; in the US, soccer just isn't the game it is in the rest of the world. I was fascinated reading this NYTimes Magazine article on the differences in the way the US trains their soccer players versus the rest of the world (especially focusing on the Netherlands and the club team Ajax). I think this is one very important reason why soccer isn't as popular in the US as it is in the rest of the world. That being said, if (heaven forbid) Chile gets knocked out of the tournament before the USA, I might start supporting them.
Coincidentally, with the exception of one class, all my English classes are now working on units having to do with sports, so I've been having fun planning World Cup related lessons, and in the meantime learning new vocabulary myself. I didn't know we used the term "friendly" in English for un partido amistoso. And "a cap" (thanks to sister's boyfriend for this one) is an appearance by a player in a game.

I leave you all with the chant for La Roja: Chi-chi-chi Le-le-le VIVA CHILE!

And, two players that coach Bielsa really should have chosen for his World Cup team.

Oh well, maybe in 2014!

Images of Home

I think it's possible to have more than one home. I refer to Vermont as home. It will always be home for me, no matter what. When I was there these past weeks, friends and relatives would say things like "Welcome home, or should I say welcome back, I'm not sure if this is home for you anymore." That made me kind of sad. I mean, yes, I did up and move across the world, but where I was born and raised, where my family has lived for generations, will always be home.

Chile is home too, in a different sense. It's home like Colby was home for 4 years. It's where my life is. I'm at the point of trying to figure out whether it will be a home like Colby, a transitory home, or whether I want to stay here for a longer-ish time. But regardless of that, it is home.

Anyway, here are some pictures of Vermont home. Like I mentioned in the last post, the weather was absolutely perfect. It only rained the day I left. In December I brought the bad weather, this time I brought the good weather.

Little sister graduating from UVM! So proud. :)

The whole family after graduation.

Probably the cutest picture of Stella ever.

Sister and I on a walk in Groton State Forest. You're jealous of my tie-dyed shirt, I know it.

Brother and I out at camp.

Daddy and I out at camp.

I'm back!

Nothing to welcome you back to Chile like a cold, dreary, foggy day after more than a week of sunny, beautiful, 80 degree summer-like days in Vermont. Booo.

But, for better or worse, I'm back in Santiago, attempting to blog as my fingers feel like they are freezing off.

I got back yesterday morning, but I almost didn't. You would think that after my last trip home where everything went wrong, my bad travel luck had run its course. Well, it seems like there was a little bit left for me, although when I think about it, I was extremely lucky in some respects.

Since I "bought" my ticket with miles, I had two layovers in the US instead of the usual one. When I got to DC from Boston, my flight to Miami was delayed by an hour. It wasn't such a big deal because I would still have enough time. So I went to buy a cinnamon sugar pretzel from Annie's Pretzels (delicious) and I turned around and the flight was delayed another hour! This would not leave me enough time to get my flight to Santiago, so I went and waited in line to talk to an American Airlines representative. Let me just say, airlines should have specific desks for flight problems because those reps are never at the desks at the gates when you need them. I ended up waiting in a super long line only to find out it was the line for American Eagle, not American. Aggh! But I finally talked to a very friendly man who changed me to a flight a half an hour earlier to try to get me to Miami in time for my Santiago flight. I would have approximately 35 minutes in Miami.

But wait. Then that flight delayed 10 minutes. Then 15. Then 30! I was freaking out, but a different rep told me I'd probably make it if I hurried.

Then, we didn't end up leaving until 9:00, an hour after the original time. So I knew I wasn't going to make it and had resigned myself to spending a god-awful amount of time in the Miami airport.

BUT! When we landed, the flight attendants announced the gate number for Santiago. I thought that was strange considering we landed at 11:16 and my flight was supposed to leave at 11:10. So I ran out to read the flight listings and wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles the Santiago flight had been delayed until 11:45!! Woo! So I ran to the other side of Concourse D and arrived just as they were announcing the final call for the flight. I was literally the last person on board.