Why Chileans should love bagels...

So a few days ago there was a rumor going around that a certain Unimarc up in Las Condes had bagels. Why so special? My lovely readers from the US may ask. Well, with all the advances Chile has made over the last years in regards to consumer goods (hello, tampons), the bagel trend just hasn't quite hit yet. A few years ago there was a bagel shop in Las Condes called New York Bagels, but when I came back in 2009 it had closed.

I think that if properly introduced, Chileans would love bagels and here's why:

1. Chileans looooooooove bread. I've heard different statistics, but all of them put them within the top countries world wide for bread consumption per capita. Bread here is purchased in individual servings (like bagels) and you then have to weigh it at the bread counter. Note the hallulla: ...looks kind of like a bagel without a hole, right? Well, maybe that's a stretch but it's still round.
So anyway, Chileans like bread and what is a bagel? Well, lots of bread. One may argue that the average Chilean isn't into stuff in their bread, per se. So maybe they wouldn't be fond of an Everything bagel or cinnamon raisin or even onion. But I don't think they would be opposed to sesame, poppy seed or plain.
2. Chilean's love cream cheese, known here as "Queso Filadélfia" after, you guessed it, Philadelphia Cream Cheese, which I assume was the first brand to be imported to Chile. See, there's already something called queso crema (the literal translation) which comes in a plastic tube and well, is not the same as the cream cheese I know. But I digress. It's popular here to eat cream cheese with soy sauce and sesame seeds (strange, but actually good) on crackers and also, to spread it on warm bread. See where I'm going here? Not such a stretch to put cream cheese on a warm bagel!

3. Sandwiches are quite popular here, and Subway has caught on as well (despite not serving traditionally Chilean sandwiches). So the jump to a bagel-sandwich shop shouldn't be hard to make. If you can make a sandwich with bread, it's even more delicious on a bagel!

So here's my plea to someone smart and who knows about business: start another bagel shop! I would suggest putting it in Providencia, somewhere where you'll get lots of gringo clients to start, and then I'll help you win over the Chileans. I promise, I'll be you're #1 customer!

Or, at the very least, Dunkin' Donuts should start serving bagels. Just saying.

Thanks, Doc

So I went to the otorrino (ENT doctor) today, and he gave me three days of licencia médica. Like I said, doctors tend to be quite generous with the sick days, and hey, I'm not complaining.

As soon as I filled my prescription, I came home, took the meds and passed out for three hours. I had slept a very healthy nine hours last night, but I guess I was still tired.

Then I woke up...feeling fine. Well, not 100%, but good enough to clean my bathroom and make lentils.

Which lead me to believe, maybe my symptoms were in my head? Well, nope. If I cough phlegm still comes up. (Sorry, TMI?) More likely, I think the thought of three days of rest relieved 1000000 lbs of stress. Instead of planning for classes tomorrow and trying to decide how I'm going to fit all of my English books, plus speakers and other materials into my small backpack, I can watch last night's episode of MadMen and write a blog post.

How great is that?

Enfermita

It was practically inevitable that I would eventually get sick. My work schedule is crazy. I'm working just about 12 hour days (between actually working and getting to and from work) and my body is fighting back. Luckily I got sick on the weekend, which means less work missed, but I'm going to go to the doctor tomorrow so that I can hopefully get a licencia medica (official medical leave) and take some more time off to really get better.

The problem? I don't know which doctor to go to. In the US, I would just go to my regular general practitioner. But those don't exist here in Chile. All doctors have a specialty. Right now I'm trying to decide between an Otorrinolaringologo (say that three times fast), which is an ear-nose-throat doctor, or a Broncopulmonar, which I assume is a lung doctor. See, my symptoms cover both specialties, so which to choose? It's decisions like this that make me not want to go to the doctor at all.

I know what the doctor is going to say: rest, drink fluids, don't go outside with wet hair, and come back if the symptoms get worse. So why go to the doctor in the first place? Well, to miss work, I need that licencia médica. No sick days in Chile. You've got to bring a doctor's note. The nice thing is is that in my experience, doctors are quite liberal on the number of days they give you. I think I really just need one, but wouldn't be surprised or complain if he/she gave me two.

Want to know more about going to the doctor in Chile? Emily and Eileen both have something to say about it.

For real?

I get lots of emails asking me about teaching English in Chile. I like to respond to them because I wish that I had had someone to ask before I came down here. It sometimes takes me awhile to respond because I'm busy, but also because I like to give thorough answers.

For the most part, the people who write to me ask intelligent questions, often the same types of things I would have asked too.

And then, today, I got this gem:

Hey Abby

This is T., have a mate stayin in Santiago for longer n is in the job hunting as a teacher, he has xperience and all teachin back in London. Would like to know If you can send me the name of the Institute you work or worked in here

Thanks loads

T.

Um. For real?

Anyway, if you know how to spell and use intelligible English, keep sending me emails. I'm happy to answer them. Although I do suggest you check out the FAQ first. I'll update it soon with some new questions I've been getting a lot.

Happy English Teaching, everyone.

Words

I just listened to a really interesting Radiolab podcast called Words, which explores what it would be like to live without words. It poses questions like, what does it mean to have thoughts if you don't have the word for "thoughts"? Is it possible for people without language to communicate? How does the existence of or the lack of language change ones life?

Additionally, the Radiolab website posted this incredible video. I didn't understand the concept until around 30 seconds into the video. I plan on using it in my English classes this week.

He knew exactly what to say

There are a ton of people on the streets of Santiago repartiendo volantes, or giving out fliers. I don't really understand why, because it's a bad method of advertising and it wastes a ton of paper. Where you see someone giving out fliers, you also see garbage bins overflowing with said fliers.

To get to work, I walk along a main street that has a lot of these people giving out fliers. I usually take one because I feel pity for the people working. It's a low paying job and they only get paid once all the fliers are gone.

There is a technique to giving out fliers. I'm more likely to take one if the person does one or more of the following things:

1. Steps forward a bit to hand me the flier.
2. Smiles
3. Says something related to what they're handing out
4. Says thank you
5. Blocks the flow of foot traffic therefore making it impossible not to take one

There is this one man, however, who does none of these things. He is in the same exact spot (also a no-no, gotta switch it up a bit), looks miserable, doesn't say thank you, and stands off to the side pitifully handing out a flier for a dentist's office. He is there every day when I go by, but I limit myself to taking a flier from him only once a week.

There are also people who hand out poetry and want money in exchange. These people usually say something about how they are university students or actors in the theater trying to make ends meat. They pray on foreigners.

On Wednesday, there was one such man giving out poetry, but I mistakenly refused him with someone giving fliers, so I took one. It was blank, so I looked at him confused. He apologized, and handed me one with actual poetry on it and I laughed. He said, "Look, I made you laugh! That in and of itself is priceless."

Pretty soon he was following me down the street like a puppy speaking in rapid Spanish about alternative theater and how there is such little support for the arts now-a-days and some project he was working on. I looked at him, about to tell him I had no coins (bald face lie, I know) when he attempted a few phrases in English. I smiled, impressed (it was pretty grammatically correct). He then said the key words (in Spanish):

"You're foreign? I thought you were Chilean! I only said that in English just in case. Where are you from?"

"The US," I replied.

"Ahh but did you understand everything I said?"

"Yes, I live here," I said.

"Oh, well, you speak Spanish very well."

So I gave him 200 pesos (less than 50 cents). He's probably not an actor in the theater. He probably knew all along I was foreign and just wanted to get some money out of me. But, he made me laugh and made me feel good about myself. So I guess, in the end, it was worth 200 pesos.

¿Estai pololeando?

I think one of the most rewarding parts of teaching English are the students. Therefore, one of my favorite times is when classes start, and I get to meet a whole group of new students. Very occasionally, this turns out to be a bad experience, but as a whole, I've been very lucky with my classes.

I almost always get asked the same questions the first day of class:

1) How long have you been in Chile?

Despite saying more than a year and a half, I always get tips and advice like "You should try pastel de choclo" or "Have you been to Valparaiso? You should go there."

2) Do you speak Spanish?

Some people have said that I should lie and say no so that students work harder to speak to me in English, but I'm a bad liar.

3) How old are you?

I always tell them to guess, they always guess older than I am.

4) Are you American?

Sometimes I say "No, I'm Chilean" just to see their reaction.

5) Where are you from?

No one ever knows where Vermont is, unless they know someone who has gone and worked at the ski resorts there. Sometimes I draw a very rough outline of the US and try to point it out.

And only the bold ones dare to ask...

6) Do you have a boyfriend?

I actually haven't ever had this question (before tonight) when I have been single. But like I said, I'm bad at lying so of course I just said no. Then they all looked at me with pity and asked, "But miss, WHY NOT?"

Which brings me to my point. Along with wet hair and living alone, not having a pololo (boyfriend) is cardinal sin according to the Bible of Chile. Maybe it's because it seems like everyone in Chile has a parjea (partner). It's a very couple-y country. There's a belief (and correct me if I'm wrong) that after you get past a certain age, if you don't have a significant other, life is kind of the pits.

I'm not going to lie, it would be nice to have a boyfriend, but I'm 24. I am young. I have time to find the one. And maybe (probably?) the one won't even be Chilean. So calm down, the general population of Chile, I'll be fine.

Customer Service Contrast, Part II

Disclaimer: I'm not saying that customer service is always bad here in Chile and that it's always good in the U.S. I've had bad experiences in the U.S. and good experiences here in Chile. It just happens to be that yesterday it was Chile=horrible and U.S.=excellent.

So remember yesterday when Veronica Soto was a total biznatch to me?

Well, I got home after that whole ordeal and had an email from my loan agency. I was a bit confused about something, so I decided to call them right then to clear it up. I talked to a nice lady named Vicki at NelNet and she helped me clear up my question. I was so amazed by how helpful she was, and how nicely she explained everything. She even made a loan joke!

So, I decided to tell her.

"Thank you so much, Vicki. It's so nice to talk to someone friendly."

She seemed a bit taken aback. "Well, thanks! But I'm just doing my job, Abigail," she replied.

"Well, you've helped me a lot today and I just wanted to say thank you."

"Aren't you sweet," she said, "I really appreciate that. In fact, I'm going to send you an email survey about your customer service experience. Would you mind filling it out?"

So I of course filled it out and gave Vicki her well-deserved kudos.

Then, because of said loan issue, I had to transfer around some money in my US account. My bank, which is actually a credit union that only exists in Vermont (I think it has three branches), has an AMAZING website. They have this function, which I think is pure genius, where during business hours, you can chat with a customer service representative online. It's secure, because you have to be signed into your account to do so, and they ask for like 4000 passwords to access the account (which I appreciate).

So I chatted with Karen and she transferred some money for me and it was just peachy.

What a sigh of relief after having to deal with Veronica Soto. I still haven't heard back from her, by the way. I guess I'll have to call in a little bit.

Customer Service Contrast, Part I

Disclaimer: I'm not saying that customer service is always bad here in Chile and that it's always good in the U.S. I've had bad experiences in the U.S. and good experiences here in Chile. It just happens to be that today it was Chile=horrible and U.S.=excellent.

Normally I like talking about the good first, but in order to understand the context of the good, I think it's necessary to understand how AWFUL the bad was.

Rewind to approximately one year ago. I decided to rent an apartment. I had an awful experience with the real estate agent. She acted very unprofessionally and I hate to admit, she made me cry. You can read this post here, but I think I must have written this awhile after it happened because it doesn't really reflect how frustrated and horrible this woman made me feel at the time.

So now fast forward to today, approximately two hours ago. I never received the contract to my apartment. I know, this is bad. I emailed this lady a bunch of times asking for it. One time, she responded and said she'd send it in the mail. I never got it. I should have followed up more, but life got in the way.

Now, the owner of my apartment wants to meet to review some things in the contract. She never received a copy of the contract either. So I called her today and offered to pick up her copy, because now I work two blocks from the real estate office, so I was going to go and talk to them directly to get the contract. I went around 2:30, because that's when I was finished working and when I had the free time to do so. The same woman who I had problems with, her name is Veronica Soto*, answered the door.

"We're on our lunch break now, but what do you need?" she said brusquely.

I explained about the contract. Then she said that I needed to have told her that I was coming before because the contracts are "in the warehouse" and she has to go look for them. So I said no problem, can I come get it tomorrow? She said no, that's impossible, because she has to take down my datos (information) and it takes a while to get it. So I asked if I could leave my datos now. She said no, because she was on her lunch break. She told me to email her. I told her I had emailed her many times (I think four, over the past year) and she had only responded once, so therefore I didn't trust email. She said she had never received an email from me and that she always responds to her emails. She shoved her business card in my face, and told me to email the address on the card. I looked at the address, and said "This is the email I've always used and I don't get a response." She again said she had never gotten an email from me. I again asked her if I could leave my datos right now, and even started to take out a pen to do so. She said no, and pointed to her business card and slowly said (as if I were stupid):

"You. Have. To. Write. Me. An. E-mail. I'm. On. My. LUNCH. BREAK. Right. Now."

I didn't want to give up, because I know I can be a push-over and I don't want people like her to take advantage of me. So I asked her how long it would take to get the contract. She said she didn't know, that it depended. I asked her what it depended on. She said that I really just needed to send her an email. I asked her for an estimate of time. She said a week. Then she took my arm and led me to the door, explaining again that she was on her lunch break. Then as soon as I was out the door, she closed it pretty roughly, almost slamming it.

It was very clear that she just wanted to get rid of me. She used her precious lunch break as an excuse, but I highly doubt she would have been any nicer or more accommodating if I had come at a non-lunch break time. Honestly, if you're on lunch break and don't want to be bothered, DON'T ANSWER THE DOOR.

So anyway, she made me pretty upset. My problem is that when I get angry, I cry, so it makes me look like a total weakling. Luckily I made it out the door before the tears began to fall. I think this is maybe because I hate confrontation, and it just completely overloads my emotional capacity.

When I got home, I wrote her an email and copied one of the emails that I hadn't gotten a response to. I considered forwarding her all four of the emails, but then I figured I didn't want to make her super mad so she wouldn't get me my contract.

What I do want to do is find her boss' email so that I can write to him and complain about her, but I can't find it. I think when I go to pick up the contract (this is assuming that she's not trying to swindle me and there actually is a contract to be had), I'll ask to either speak to her boss or for his email.

I also looked at www.reclamos.cl to see if there were any complaints against ProCasa Jamie Moris (the name of the real estate agent) and lo and behold there was one against Veronica Soto in particular, and I am going to keep looking to see if there are more.

I'm emotionally exhausted after writing all this, but it helps me let it go. I'll write about the positive experiences I had (with my bank and loan agency) tomorrow.

*Usually I don't use names on my blog, but in this case, I think it's valid to call her out. She has absolutely ZERO customer service/interpersonal skills.

Update: Things I never did and want to do while in Chile

On November 1, 2008, almost TWO years ago (my how time flies) I wrote a blog post about things that I wanted to do while in Chile. Let's see how I've done on that list:

• Go to the rodeo (kind of...I watched the rodeo last 18 de septiembre, but I haven't been to the medialuna in Rancagua yet)
  
• Go to El Huevo in Valpo (no, but I'm not sure I really want to do this anymore)
  
• Go to La Serena (YES and YES!)
• Three words: Torres del Paine (YES!)
  
• Argentina (Mendoza: Yes. BBAA: Not yet. But I'm going to Salta in September!)
  
• Explore more outside the comunas of Provedencia, Nunoa and El Centro (yes)
  
• Go to a concert at the Estadio Nacional (Not yet, because the Estadio has been closed for renovations for awhile, but U2 is coming in March and I'm definitely going!)
  
• Visit more viñas (I visited one in Santiago, but I want to to go Colchagua Valley)
  
• Dance the Cueca (Haha, yes)
  
• Celebrate el 18 (Yes)
  
• New Years! (No, not yet. I'm not sure how I'm going to accomplish this goal because I like to go home for Christmas and I usually end up staying through New Years.)
  

Abby are you working?

Why yes, indeed I am!

Yesterday I "went to the snow" as they say here in Chile. I find that phrase a bit ridiculous, especially given my background growing up in Vermont where it was completely unnecessary to "go to" the snow. The snow, of it's own accord, came to us, and quite often and in plentiful amounts. However, here in the Central Valley of Chile, it is necessary to go up into the Andes Mountains to reach the snow.

And yesterday, as part of my amazing job, we did just that.

On the way up, the bus driver played Michael Jackson videos the whole way, and we had quite the time singing along. One of the videos he played was "Smooth Criminal:"

So anyway, as soon as we got off the bus, my boss started singing "Abby are you ok?" and then she told a story about how she used to think the lyrics were "Annie are you working?" So of course, the rest of the day at various intervals, she would sing to me "Abby are you working?" usually when I was doing something particularly relaxing, like soaking up the sun or relaxing on my tube as the lift pulled me up the mountain.

I have the best job ever.

Here are some other pictures from the day.

People skiing and boarding

The tubing tracks

The Andes Mountains

The village of Farellones

Let it go

I thank my lucky stars every day that my work day starts at 9:30 and that I live only three metro stops away from work. The difference between the metro at 9:15 am and 8:15 am is like night and day. At 9:15, when the trains arrive at my stop, I can comfortably get on and I don't even have to share my square meter with anyone (remember those ads from the beginning days of Transantiago? Comparte tu metro cuadrado. Haha.). At 8:15 am, it's almost impossible to get on a train.

Today I had to go do some visa tramites (not mine again, thank God) and therefore left my apartment earlier than normal. I was waiting for the metro at around 8:15am. I let one train go by without even trying to get on because it was so full. The next one that came looked a little more promising, plus more people were getting off. As soon as I saw my opportunity, I tried to get on the train, which was still very crowded. Just in that moment, another woman rushed in and took my spot, jostling me to the side and into another woman. I was standing precariously in the crack between the train and the platform, and tried to back into the train to avoid falling on my face. In the process, I bumped into the second woman again, then quickly realized I wasn't going to get on this train either, so I stepped back onto the platform. In that instant, the woman I had bumped into took the opportunity to start to complain about how I lacked manners and how did it ever occur to me to push her like that.

I was infuriated. I mean, yes, I pushed her. But I'm sorry, you're on the metro at 8:15am, lady, you're GOING TO GET PUSHED. It's inevitable. And plus, I was almost going to fall onto my face, so I'm sorry if you got pushed in the process. Cry me a river. (How do you say that in Spanish?)

Then, after my mini mind rant (because I don't think quick enough on my feet to ever say a retort like that in the moment, which is probably a good thing), I realized:

I just need to let it go. She's just a silly woman in a bad mood.

It's hard for me, though, to forget about even little things like this. Deep down, I'm very sensitive and care a lot about what other people think of me (even complete strangers).

I know I need to work on growing a thicker skin, because I'm very sensitive to even constructive criticism. Today my boss told me two things to help me write better in Spanish, which I appreciate so much because I need the help, but even so, there was a tiny part of me that felt stung. I think it's also related to the part of me that is such a perfectionist.

Anyway, I guess it's just something I need to work on, because despite being a perfectionist, I know that I'm far from perfect.