Abby's Line

I'm a big kid now!

2011-03-08T18:50:00.000-03:00

Hello lovely and faithful readers.

I have a big announcement to make!

Drum roll please...

Presenting!

I've imported (almost) all of my old posts. I'll keep this blog up for a little bit while I work out some quirks over there, but I won't be updating here any more.

Thanks, Blogger, for being so faithful over the past five years, but it's time to move on.

I'd appreciate it if everyone could update their feed readers and blogrolls. Thanks!

PS. There's no www in front of the URL

If you need a good laugh...

2011-03-02T19:04:00.000-03:00

A friend posted this on facebook the other day and I just had to repost it here for anyone who needs a good laugh.

Plus, it reminds me of a video we have of my sister as a baby laughing exactly like this baby at my uncle doing an impression of Donald Duck.

This same sister who in less than three months is getting married and just sent me her engagement photos! Waaaaaahhh my baby sister is all grown up.

That is all. I will blog something real when work calms down.

In the mean time, have a good laugh.

Una confesión

2011-02-23T22:56:00.000-03:00

Primero que todo, un "disclaimer"...trabajé 14 horas hoy día así que estoy un poco cansada, y si mi castellano no es perfecto, es solamente por eso....jajaja. Broma. Si mi castellano no es perfecto, es porque no lo es no más. Pero sí es cierto que he trabajado mucho hoy, así que puede que ande peor que lo normal.

Bueno, tengo que confesarles algo. Aunque vivo en Chile, siento a veces que hablo inglés mucho más que debería. Bueno, hablo castellano la gran mayoría del tiempo cuando estoy en el trabajo, pero mi jefa también habla inglés, así que si de repente no sé una palabra, o si estoy cansada, puedo decir cosas en inglés y me entiende. Además como la casa central de nuestra organización está en EEUU, tengo que enviar muchos mails en inglés, además de hacer traducciones al inglés y cosas por el estilo.

Segundo, la mayoría de mis amigos acá son gringos, y hablamos inglés, obviamente, porque es más facíl y creo que sería ridículo si hablaramos castellano.

Obviamente también tengo amigos chilenos, y con ellos hablo castellano. También cuando he estado pololeando, hablo castellano con mi pololo.

Con Charlie hablo (obviamente hablo con mi gato, no me juzguen) 100% Spanglish. A veces mezclo los dos idiomas en la misma frase. Charlie es un gato bilingüe, experto en Spanglish.

Sin embargo, hoy día llegaron los nuevos estudiantes de EEUU. Como recién han llegado, tengo que hablar con ellos solamente en castellano para que se vayan acostumbrandose al idioma. O sea, se supone que durante todo el semestre tengo que hablar con ellos en castellano, así que mejor todavía que se acostumbran al tiro.

Entonces hoy día, desde las 8:00 hasta las 22:00, hablé puro castellano. Creo que dije como dos palabras en inglés todo el día. Y esto es raro para mí. Porque incluso si no hablo inglés acá en Chile, hablo a menudo con mis padres o hermanos o amigos en EEUU. Pero hoy día no. 100% castellano.

Es raro que uno viva en un país hispanoparlante y pasa mucho tiempo hablando inglés. O sea, menos mal que ya no soy profesora de inglés, porque ahí sí hablé inglés incluso mucho más que ahora.

Decidí hace dos minutos (mientras escribía este post) que este año voy a intentar de hablar casetllano mucho más que actualmente hablo. Tengo que aprovechar que vivo en un país hispanohablante, y no andar todo el día hablando inglés. Y esto siginfica que voy a hacer más posts en castellano también. ¿Les parece?

Reasons to move to Chile

2011-02-21T06:59:00.005-03:00

So far this week, two people have written to me asking for advice about moving to Chile. Since I believe that things happen in threes, I'm anticipating the third and writing this blog post.

When I decided to move to Chile, I didn't ask anyone anything. I just decided. Then I did it.

Looking back, this probably wasn't the best way to go about it. Granted, everything has worked out for the best, but I now truly believe that people shouldn't make such big decisions without thinking it over first and making sure it's the right decision. That being said, if you're moving here for love, that's a different story. I have my opinions about that as well but I'll just keep them to myself for the time being.

So, why should you move to Chile, specifically, Santiago?

One of my favorite classes

If your life dream has been to teach English, then by all means, come on down. There are a plethora of English teaching jobs available. See my FAQ section or these posts for more info.

If you love speaking Spanish and want to improve. Or, if you want to learn. I personally did not learn Spanish here in Chile (that happened in El Salvador) but I know plenty of people who have. There are lots of language schools in Santiago. Chilean Spanish can be tricky, but it's by no means impossible. I caught on (with a significant background in Spanish) in about a month or so. Of course, I'm constantly learning new chileanismos (like this one), even today.

If you can telecommute or work from home, Chile is a great place to live, because it's less expensive. Rent is significantly cheaper in Chile than in most places in the U.S. If you live in Santiago, there's no need for a car. You can literally get almost anywhere in the country by bus. It's pretty amazing. Some things are more expensive or the same, but overall, I live much simply and cheaper here in Santiago than I would in the U.S.

The sobremesa is one of my most favorite of Chilean traditions. It's when you sit around and talk after a meal, sometimes for hours. At my host family's house, this often includes music and singing.

If you'd like to live a slower-paced life, with long weekend lunches, lazy Sunday afternoons, and a looser concept of time, then Chile is great. This is probably the thing that has been the hardest for me to adapt to (I can be a bit impatient) but it has taught me to relax and enjoy life more.

Lota, a city in the south of Chile, near Concepción, which I think looks very "Chilean".

If you're open minded and willing to learn about a new culture, Chile will welcome you with open arms. It's different from the U.S., but not so different that everything is 100% foreign. Parts of Santiago look so much like a U.S. city that sometimes I forget that I'm in a foreign country. But then again, there are many more parts that are 100% Chilean. Also, as a rule Chileans have a good attitude towards people from North America and Europe. There's little anti-U.S. sentiment that I've felt in other countries. (On the other side of the coin, Chileans can be very prejudiced against their South American neighbors, especially Bolivians and Peruvians, but that is for another post).

So I hope these help anyone contemplating a move to Chile. Stay tuned for future posts on the subject!

I miss these girls...

2011-02-18T00:06:00.000-03:00

Lovely R., who lives in New Mexico and is a kick-ass geologist.

D. and E.L., both in grad school for sciency things (astrophysics and oceanography, I think). And E.L. is getting married in May!

E.R., my pretty friend who teaches English in the Mother Land and will hold your hand all through stressful episodes of Gray's Anatomy.

Me, K and S, roomies senior year!

Me and A.T., roomies freshmen and sophomore year. So close they called us "Abya" :)

Don't get me wrong, I've made lots of great friends in Chile who I wouldn't give up for the world, but sometimes, man, I miss these girls. Ever since freshmen year (well, almost, S. joined later) we were a tight group that stuck together. To my Drummond girls, plus additions, I miss you!

A Weekend at the Zoo

2011-02-14T08:00:00.002-03:00

You may think I went to Buin Zoo this weekend, because I did, in fact go to Buin, but we skipped the zoo.

The zoo, my dear readers, was in my apartment.

So here's my Valentines Day gift to you. Cute animals. Enjoy.

Song is At the Zoo by Simon and Garfunkle

Chilean Word Play

2011-02-11T06:56:00.004-03:00

Eileen at Bearshapedsphere once posted on how Chileans soften their swear words, replacing them with words that sound similar. Margaret recently updated her Chilenismos Glossary over at Cachando Chile. These two things inspired this post.

Chileans are good at replacing words that sound the same. For example, there is the infamous: "Y Boston?" or "Y Bosnia?" No, nobodys concerned about geography here, they just want to know about you. See, the informal version of tú here in Chile is vos (or really pronounced voh). So if you say "Y voh?" it means, "And you?" So to be clever, you can elongate this into "Y Boston?" or "Y Bosnia?" because in Spanish, the v and b are practically the same sound.

Another one my boss likes to use is "Como le baila?" which would roughly translate into "How do you dance?" But really, she just wants to know how you're doing. The correct phrase would be "Como le va?" which is the polite way of asking "How's it going?"

Here are some others that I've heard around town.

Serapio: this comes from the phrase "Será, po," which is Chilean (or Spanish, without the po) for a resigned "I guess that's the way it will be." Apio is celery.

"Veronica, mi amor, perdóname, pero no voy a poder ir a almorzar donde tus padres hoy día." (Veronica, my love, I'm sorry but I can't eat lunch at your parents' house today.)
"Bueno, serapio." (Okay, I guess that's how it is.)

De todas mangueras: This comes from the common phrase "De todas maneras", which means "By all means". A manguera is a garden hose.

"Juan, vai a venir a mi cumple?" (Juan, are you coming to my birthday party?)
"De todas mangueras, compa're" (Of course I am, man)

Por si las moscas: Moscas are flies, but this phrase means "Just in case" or "By the way" from the Spanish phrase "Por si acaso" (Which Margaret points out is often shortened to porsiaca and I've even heard porsi.)

"Susana, puedes revisar el base de datos de nuevo, por si las moscas" (Susana, can you check the data base again, just in case)
"Claro, jefa." (Sure thing, boss)

Nos Belmont: Belmont* is one of the most popular brands of cigarettes here in Chile. This phrase is derived from "Nos vemos", which is "See you later."

"Claudia, me voy." (Claudia, I'm leaving)
"Ya, nos belmont!" (Okay, see you later!)

Lenteja: This comes from the word lenta or lento, meaning slow. Lentejas are lentils.

"Vicente, ¿querí ir a almorzar en la Picola Italia?" (Vincent, wanna have lunch at the Picola Italia?"
"No, weon, son medio lentejas allá...vamos mejor al Dominó." (No, dude, they're kind of slow over there...let's go to Dominó instead.)

*Unfortunately, to many Chileans "Vermont" sounds like "Belmont" so when they ask where I'm from, they sometimes ask "You mean, like the cigarettes?" No, ew, gross.

The Break-up Scene

2011-02-09T09:12:00.004-03:00

"Knowing me, knowing you
There is nothing we can do
Knowing me, knowing you
We just have to face it; this time we're through
Breaking up is not easy to do, but I have to go
Knowing me, knowing you
It's the best I can do"

-Benny Andersson, Björn Ulvaeus, Stig Anderson

I guess I should start off this post with a couple of confessions. Number one: I heart Abba. A lot. Number two: I often imagine my life as a movie. I think about what genre it would be: romantic comedy, drama, musical, action (probably not), documentary (only if i become famous). I conjure up the background music, I try to decide which scenes would be edited out, and choose which actors would play me and the other people in my life. I like to think that I haven't reached the climax yet.

A few weeks ago, I decided that I needed to break up with Jack. It actually wasn't a difficult decision, it suddenly became very clear to me that this was the best option, for many reasons. Actually carrying it out, however, was the difficult part. I realized that I had never broken up with a guy in person before. Extenuating circumstances, as in I was in Chile and didn't have the money or time for a plane ticket, lead to a breakup over Skype with my Salvadoran boyfriend in 2007. It was only the second time that I actually did the breaking up, and it wasn't a mutual agreement.

I thought about what to say. I practiced out loud. I ran it by my friends, both guys and girls. I expressed that it would just be easier for me to say "I want to break up. The end," without giving any reasons. My guy friend advised that this was not a good idea.

So I did it. It was unpleasant, but not horrendous.

Then a few days later I was listening to some music, in the middle of a cleaning frenzy in my apartment, and the song quoted above came on. And I knew, that if my life were made into a musical, that this would be the perfect song for the break up scene of a few weeks ago.

I've been listening to the song a lot since then (after all, it is Abba, and extremely catchy). It's a bit strange, because it's not entirely pleasant to re-visit a break up scene over and over. But I think it's somehow comforting knowing that Abba knew exactly how I was feeling about this break-up. It's not because we hated each other, it's just that we are too different to make it work.

And who knows, maybe down the road, as my life unfolds, this scene won't even make it into the final cut.

Subconcious memories of childhood

2011-02-07T10:53:00.002-03:00

Photo courtesy ianturton on flickr

When I was little, I don't remember exactly how old, my grandfather bought me a Jersey calf for my birthday. I remember we were at a cow auction and he told me to pick out a calf. I think he was hoping I'd pick a Holstein (the breed that my family's farm raises), but I thought Jerseys were cuter. I named her Kim, after my baby sitter.

I don't really know what happened to Kim...I think she grew up and didn't produce enough milk and so was sold for beef. Sounds sad, but when I was little I pretty much accepted this as the way things work on a dairy farm. Because she was technically mine, I got the money from her sale and went with my grandfather to buy another jersey calf. This one I named Ariel (after The Little Mermaid, duh!).

I kept Ariel (and maybe Kim too, I don't remember) in my garage and bottle fed her morning and night. When she got older she was moved over to the calf barn. That summer, I showed her in the Washington County Field Days and got Reserve Champion. I'm not quite sure how because neither my parents nor I really knew what we were doing, and even forgot the requisite white clothes. Ariel must have had good conformation and it didn't so much matter that a clueless six year old was leading her around the ring. After that, I figured I'd get out while the going was good, and never showed again.

Ariel then moved into the big barn with the rest of the herd. She even had a calf (it was a bull, which means it was automatically shipped off on the beef truck...again, this didn't cause me grief as a child). However, she got chronic mastitis and she too took a trip down the road.

The point of all this? I haven't though of Kim or Ariel for YEARS. However, the other night I had a dream that I was an international wine smuggler that brought liters and liters of wine into the U.S.. It was quite the lucrative trade, apparently. I had millions of dollars (in pesos chilenos) on my person and was for some reason obsessed with counting it. I stored the wine that I smuggled in my garage. The same garage where I bottle fed Ariel. And there she was in my dream, happily munching on some hay in the corner, surrounded by cases of wine.

I'm not really into interpreting my dreams, mostly because I have REALLY strange, vivid dreams all the time, so probably the interpretation would be something like: Abby, you're a crazy person. But I do wonder what makes our sub-conscious remember things like this, memories from so many years ago, and mix them with our current reality (not that I'm a wine smuggler, but you get the picture).

In case you forgot I had a cat...

2011-02-02T20:48:00.002-03:00

Charlie has superior taste for most things. I recently switched him from kitten food to adult food. So the change wouldn't be so brusque, I at first mixed the two together. He refused to eat the kitten food and only picked out the bigger adult food chunks, as if to say, that other stuff? It's for babies.

His superior taste also applies to cat treats...

P.S. This is my very first attempt at editing any type of video. I just used Windows Movie Maker, so I apologize for its rudimentary nature. However, I had a pretty good time doing it!

On Networking

2011-02-01T08:55:00.001-03:00

Last night Eileen invited me to the Santiago Travel Tweetup, and on a whim I decided to go, considering it was close by and I had nothing else to do. Besides, I like hanging out with Eileen and it beat studying for the GRE (see, even without Facebook I find ways to distract myself!)

Turns out, it was a good time, and I got some good contacts for work.

But man, being with lots of people tires me out. If I wasn't already convinced before, I now know that I'm truly an introvert.

And I don't really like networking.

See, deep down, I'm a shy person. I always find it awkward to just go up to people and ask what they do, why they are there, etc. However, I soon realized, that because of my line of work, I wold mostly be the customer for all of these travel businesses. I mean, I guess I could promote this little blog, but honestly, that doesn't really interest me. I have this blog because I like it, not because I'm counting the number of page views or trying to get ad revenue.

Anyway, once I figured out that most people there needed to be "selling" me something, it was easier. And I gave away a ton of my beautiful business cards. And then my feet were tired and I came home.

Now I've had my fill of people for at least a week, so if you don't see me for awhile, you know why. ;)

Goodbye, Facebook

2011-01-31T10:28:00.002-03:00

Last week I made an announcement that I would be deleting my Facebook page for awhile to have less distractions while I try to focus on studying for the GRE.

I've had Facebook for a LONG time, ever since around October 2004, when Facebook expanded out of the Ivy Leagues and into other small, liberal arts colleges in New England. I remember when the "wall" was this rinky-dinky thing that you could erase every once and awhile. And erase it I did, at the end of freshmen year. I also remember how it was like a popularity contest at first. How many friends do you have? And then the pictures were added. How many pictures are you tagged in? Quite unpleasant, actually, and I blame it on this the reason I was up to almost 500 friends (do I even know that many people?) and recently had to cull a bunch of them (down to just under 300 now).

So anyway, on Friday I "deactivated" my page and Facebook made me feel all guilty about it, showing me pictures of my friends and saying that they would miss me. (One of the pictures was of my brother, who I know misses me already since we live in different hemispheres). Then they asked why I was leaving and for every option you chose, they offer an alternative to leaving. Too distracting? How about you turn off your email alerts? Already done that, Facebook. It's typing you into my browser bar and going to your site that distracts me, thank you very much.

And it has worked! Since Friday I have learned 70 new vocabulary words and the rules of distribution and how to multiply a binomial (FOIL, remember that from 8th grade?). I do forget sometimes, though, and start typing "fa..." into my browser bar.

If you were my friend on Facebook and miss me terribly, you can follow me on Twitter, which is @abbicita. For some reason twitter is way less distracting to me than Facebook, and I rationalize it by telling myself I'm keeping up-to-date with the goings-on in the world that way.

And I'll probably be back to Facebook in a month or so. I do like to keep in touch with my family and friends at home. Maybe this month of abstinence (hello, GRE word) will help me be more abstemious (hello, GRE word) with my use in the future.

How the Tudors Help me Study

2011-01-29T12:47:00.006-03:00

I'm slightly obsessed with The Tudors, a Showtime series about King Henry VIII. My parents watch it, and so I watched the third and fourth seasons with them while I was home. Now I'm almost done with the first season.

I'm also studying for the GRE, and to help me remember vocabulary words, here are some example sentences I've come up with.

1. Catherine of Aragon refused to abjure the throne so that King Henry VIII could marry Anne Boelyn.

2. In 16th century England, Catholics considered Lutheranism an aberration.

3. Catherine Howard was unsuccessful in her request for an abeyance of her trial for treason and was soon beheaded.

4. Cardinal Wolsey adulterated his position as cardinal in the Catholic church by having a mistress and two children.

5. Charles, Duke of Suffolk, always tried to serve his master King Henry with alacrity.

6. 16th century doctors believed that bleeding patients allayed the affects of The Sweats.

Can you tell I'm only on the words that start with a?

How many words do you know?

February Blues

2011-01-28T13:55:00.007-03:00

February is the month of vacations here in Chile. By law, employees who have worked with a company for a year or more get 3 weeks of vacation (minimum). It's a pretty sweet system, I think. Most people take vacation either in January or February, but I'd say most take in February.

Last year during February, my friend Marcy visited me with her mom and we went to Valparaíso for the day. Then I went to Valdivia to visit N. and went to Pucon for a day to visit my host sisters. Then, I went to Torres del Paine for a six day hike. And to top off an already busy month, there was the earthquake.

In 2009, I worked for the first two weeks of the month and then went to La Serena with F for 10 days.

In 2008, I started my last year of college in February (which included hardcore work on my Honors thesis). However, in January, I spent the entire month here in Santiago conducting research for my thesis (well, among other things like swimming in F.'s pool and going to my host sister's wedding and going horseback riding in Olmué).

My horse looked nice, but was slightly deranged and thought he was a racehorse...

In 2007, I traveled to Peru and Bolivia with eight other girls from my study abroad program for the first two weeks. Then I went to Pucon for my host sister's civil wedding, and then continued south and met my friends Chiloé.

Why is it that I always have fashion emergencies while traveling? But hey, look! I'm at Machu Picchu!

Really happy to be on a boat tour near Castro, Chiloe

So you can probably understand why I'm a bit bummed not to be heading out on some sort of adventure this year. Granted, I consider myself very lucky that I was able to go home for Christmas for two weeks, and that I'll be heading home in August for my sister's wedding. However, as my friends and boss prepare to go to places like Puerto Vallarta and Pucon and Isla de Pascua and Patagonia, I can't help but not look foward to the next two weeks when I'll be working and studying for the GREs.

At least this guy is coming back to keep Charlie and I company.

Bunny-wunny!

And another bonus: my office is air conditioned!

Summer Weather in Santiago: It's gettin' hot in heeere

2011-01-23T15:53:00.005-03:00

This entry is in response to a few emails I've received asking about the weather in Santiago. I thought today would be a perfect day to talk about the summer heat.

I know all of you back home are cursing me because it's -3000 degrees below zero with the windchill, but allow me a moment to complain about the 90+ degrees (F) we're experiencing today...

IT'S HOT!

Okay, I'm done.

Being from Vermont I'm not really used to constant heat. There's a saying from my beloved home state that goes, "If you don't like the weather, wait a minute." And it's true. In the summer, we could have hot, humid days, or rain, or chillier days, or cloudy days or dry days. We have thunderstorms, sometimes with hail, and the occasional snowstorm in May. We could even have all of the above in one day (okay, maybe not snow, but the rest).

Summer in Santiago, however, looks something like this, all the time:

The saving grace of Santiago's summers though, is that the nights cool down (as you can see above). Taking an evening stroll is quite lovely starting around 7:30 or 8:00pm.

The heat is pretty constant from mid-December until mid-March, varying a bit depending on the year. I remember one year that it was hot until the end of May and then it got cold, no fall, just hot summer then winter. This spring (November-December) was a bit strange, a little colder than normal and rainy.

However, if there's one thing you can count on in Santiago, it's a hot, dry, sunny summer.

Another thing I should mention is the strength of the sun. It's stronger down here. I don't know if it's because we're closer to the hold in the ozone layer or what, but use sunscreen. I put it on religiously every day, and I work inside. If you go to the beach, bring an umbrella and reapply often. When I was studying abroad a girl I was with got 2nd degree burns on her body because she refused to put on sunscreen all day (she learned her lesson).

Happy Birthday Bud!

2011-01-18T18:00:00.000-03:00

Today is my baby brother's birthday!! That's right, baby brother who is younger than me. Everyone always thinks I'm the youngest of my siblings even though it's the exact opposite, but I'm not complaining. That means I got the good genes, right? ;)

But that's not the subject of today's post. Today the subject is my bro, CP Dudley, Carltoon, Philly-willy, Felipe.

My brother is...hilarious, kind, generous, a great athlete, a role-model, dedicated, helpful and he gives the BEST hugs in the world. Let's go back to the word hilarious. He makes me laugh more than any person in the world. He has such a great sense of humor and a great memory for remembering jokes and funny lines from movies. He can recite entire scenes from movies after seeing them once.

At 3, he already had quite the sense of humor.

When he was little, he was ridiculously cute and had a great personality. He wanted to be Batman and for a time would only wear his Batman pajamas and cape. Later on, he wanted to be the Blue Power Ranger, Billy, and would sign his name as Billy. He also really liked to draw bucket tractors and named his stuff dog Ginger Ale (after his favorite drink).

And, he has grown up into a great guy who I am so proud of. He plays football for his college's team, and he's good. He was made captain as a junior and after the 2010 season was First Team for his division. He started playing as a 5th grader and has stuck with it, despite obstacles along the way, like missing an entire season, concussions, asthma and various injuries. It worries my mother to no end, but I can't imagine him without having football in his life. He wants to be a coach, and I know he'll be great. He's wonderful with kids and commands respect.

My birthday present to him last year

His Christmas present to me this year ("Some bunny in Vermont Loves Me")

Happy Birthday, Bud! I love you.

New Year, New Things

2011-01-18T05:00:00.000-03:00

Although 2011 hasn't been off to the best start, I try to maintain a positive attitude whenever possible, so let's explore some new things in my life, shall we?

New Things!

1. New thing number one is actually not a new thing at all, it's an old thing. It's my guitar! My parents gave me a guitar for my 16th birthday, and I started taking lessons that summer. I know all the basic chords and can strum out easy songs. My goal now is to practice a lot and be able to play more complicated strumming patterns and such. Right now my fingers are very sore, because the calluses haven't formed yet.

2. I'm was so excited for new this new thing and I didn't even expect in my wildest dreams that I would get it. It was the perfect Christmas present because it wasn't something I asked for (granted, I asked for two things, one of them being sheets, haha). It wasn't even something I knew I wanted until I had it in my hands. My sister's fiance caught a perfect succession of me opening it on Christmas morning...

In case you couldn't tell from the pictures, it's a Kindle! Book suggestions are welcome. I've already read so far on the Kindle The Room, The Hangman's Daughter, Water For Elephants and The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. And played about 50 games of Scrabble.

3. You might have noticed that I mentioned that my sister has a fiance. That's right, my little sister is getting married! I've known about this since September, but somehow didn't get around to blogging about it. This is, of course, worthy of an entire post, and most likely this isn't the last you'll be hearing about it. The new thing for me though is that when I was home my sister asked me to be her maid of honor! I've become slightly obsessed with various wedding websites, but can I just say that I'm SO GLAD I'm not the bride. And so glad that my sister is calm and collected and has a lot of things already taken care of...and the wedding's not until August!

And last but not least, if you've been wondering why I haven't been blogging a lot lately, it's that I've had my hands kind of full...

She's not crying, just squirming a bit

4. Haha, just kidding, the baby isn't mine. My cousin and his wife had a beautiful baby girl right before Christmas and I got to meet her when I was home. She's a cutie and from what I could garner from the short time I was with her, a very well-behaved young lady.

I couldn't resist posting this picture. This is baby H. with her uncle, my cousin M. Apparently, his arms are like magic, and whenever she's crying he can make her stop just by holding her. Isn't that the sweetest?

That's all for now. What's new in your life?

For Nala

2011-01-14T18:17:00.005-03:00

I was going to post something upbeat this week. About how I'm excited for some new things coming up. About my hopes for 2011.

But then something the exact opposite happened.

I shouldn't be over dramatic but the course of this week's events really did affect me. But not nearly so much as it has affected my dear friend R.

I debated whether to blog about this because it's so tragic and sad, but I'm considering it as a public service announcement for all people who have cats and live in apartment buildings.

When I first got Charlie I was scared to let him out on the balcony. So many people told me, "Oh don't worry, cats are agile, they won't fall." One or two people were concerned. Luckily, I didn't go with the crowds and put up mesh all along the balcony and various other impediments so that Charlie will be safe. But once spring came, I moved his litter box out there and kept the sliding doors open all the time so he could go out and get fresh air.

However, sometime Wednesday night R.'s cat, Nala, fell off the the balcony of her 12th floor apartment and died instantly.

Nala was a special cat. R. rescued her off the streets near Persa Bio Bio about a year ago. She was so skinny and sick when R. found her. After many vet visits, it was determined that Nala had feline leukemia. R. cared for her and nursed her back to health. She grew into a playful, feisty, healthy cat.

Actually, the reason I got Charlie is indirectly because of Nala. Shortly after Nala was found and rescued, R. thought she might be pregnant. I told her that if Nala ended up having kittens, I would take one. Then, we found out Nala was just getting fat because she was finally getting enough food!

A couple of weeks later, R. called me and said she had found kittens on the street. She convinced me to take one because I had offered to take one of Nala's potential kitties. The rest is history.

So, rest in peace dear Nalita.

And please, readers, send out some positive vibes to R. On top of the death of Nala, she has a lot of other stressful, non-ideal situations to deal with, and she could use some good energy sent her way.

Next week I will be back with a happier topic. Because it always gets better. Always.

PS. In case you're wondering, Charlie's box is back inside and he only has supervised visits to the balcony now.

I'm baaaaaack!

2011-01-08T22:26:00.003-03:00

Did you miss me?

Anyway, I'm back in Santiago after two lovely weeks at home with my family. I posted about reverse culture shock last year too, but I'm gonna post about it again this year because it was completely different and unexpected. I kind of thought I was over being surprised at the differences, but apparently there were some things that I forgot about life in the U.S.

1. Central Heating. Okay, so I know that it exists as a norm in the US and I'm so thankful for that considering my first few days in Vermont were downright frigid. However, I forgot how much NOISE it makes. As soon as the thermostat kicks in it's like an engine revving up. I mean, I lived 18 plus some years of my life listening to this noise, but I had completely forgotten about it. At my parents' house it was especially loud and seemed to rattle the registers. When it turned on the first night, I sat up in bed and thought: "Earthquake!"...then realized where I was.

2. Options. There are like 500000 brands of everything and so many varieties! I got very overwhelmed in the cracker aisle in Hannafords. More than just Galletas de Agua and Galletas de Soda. Thank God for that. Also, the variety of cheeses! And no Mantecoso as far as the eye could see. Double Thank God for that.

3. Driving. This isn't really culture shock, I just don't do it here in Chile. My license was a casualty to this unfortunate incident, so I really haven't driven more than quick jaunts since December 2008. However, I decided to bite the bullet and go to the DMV while I was home and can now legally drive in the US. The good news, it's like riding a bike. You don't really forget how to drive. I think mostly because my parents moved to the boonies, a half an hour drive from a major grocery store, it seemed like it took forever to get anywhere. (That being said, they live in a beautiful spot right by a major lake and it was very peaceful and the first night my ears were ringing it was so quiet [besides aforementioned heat turning on]).

4. Getting the check RIGHT when you finish dinner at a restaurant. Although sometimes I think it's a pain to have to flag down the waiter here in Chile, I find plonking the slip on the table two seconds after I've taken my last bite of food to be a bit jarring. Give me a minute to digest, please!

And in true Chile fashion, I was welcomed back to my adopted country with a one hour wait to get through Immigration and had all my bags checked by Customs. Oh joy.

Merry Christmas!!!

2010-12-22T21:04:00.002-03:00

First of all, a disclaimer. I KNOW it's politically correct to say "Happy Holidays," because there are some people who aren't Christian and celebrate other holidays around this time of year. BUT, I hate that phrase. My rule of thumb is that you wish someone a happy whatever you celebrate. In college, my friend R. routinely wished us a Happy Hanukkah and I loved that. I used to babysit for a pretty hippy family and they wished me a Happy Solstice. Go them. But me, I celebrate Christmas, so I'm going to wish you all a....

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

My time at home is going to fly by, and I honestly can't judge if I'll have time to sit down and write a post. I'll take lots of pictures though, and post when I get back.

In the spirit of the the holidays, I leave you with some of my favorite Christmas carols.

When I was little, I loved to sing. The only two songs that I like to sing (no matter the season) were this one:

and this one (but I always missed a stanza):

And because I'm a kid at heart, and really love animals, here's a version of another favorite by Sufjan Stevens. Love him. Also, how cute is the little boy in this video?

I hope everyone has a wonderful, relaxing Christmas with their loved ones. If you're here in Chile, try not to roast. If you're in the northern hemisphere, I'll be freezing into an ice cube along with you.

Home for the Holidays

2010-12-18T13:18:00.009-03:00

In five and a half days, I take wing (well, the airplane does) and head north on a 11+ hour direct flight to JFK. Then I will trek across The City, wait a couple of hours and head a bit more to the north from La Guardia to BTV, aka Burlington International Airport (with flights to Canada, hence the word "International").

I'm going home for Christmas. This Christmas will be very different than previous year's, but I'm looking forward to it nonetheless. This (North American) summer my parents had incredible luck given the state of the housing market and sold our house. It wasn't my childhood home (we moved out of there when I was 18), but I did like the gardens, my Chinaberry Red bedroom walls, the upstairs sitting room, the huge porch and the radiant heated floors.

The house my parents sold this (North American) summer.

A washed out picture of me, but you can see the Chinaberry Red Walls. Pretty, yes?

However, for many reasons it was the best choice for my parents to sell the house, so they did, and now they live on the other side of the state, about 2 hours by car from the rest of my extended family. But, they live close to my brother's university and MUCH closer to my dad's work.

Anyway, because now we live on one side of the state (the blue arrow) and my sister and grandparents live on the other side of the state (red arrows), when I arrive to BTV (black arrow), I will be spending the next three days staying with various relatives and celebrating Christmas.

First, I'll go to my sister's apartment to have dinner, then go to church at night. We'll all come back to my sister's place and spend the night, then celebrate Christmas morning there with breakfast and presents. Then we'll go to my grandma's house to celebrate with my mom's side of the family, which always involves lots of delicious food because the members of my family are REALLY good cooks. Then when the days is over and we'll go to my other grandma's house to spend the night. Then the 26th we'll celebrate with my dad's side of the family, and when the day is over, we'll finally return to my parents' house on the other side of the state.

It's going to be a whirlwind, but it will be wonderful for the following reasons:

1. My lovely family.

2. Ruby
3. Stella
4. Christmas Carols
5. My grandma's and mom's and aunt's cooking.
6. Hopefully, a White Christmas. Or at least, one that is not 85 degrees and sunny.

A Small Visitor

2010-12-14T22:04:00.010-03:00

Yesterday my boss got to work and went to the kitchen to get water for coffee. She told me she heard a cat crying. I went to investigate, because I love cats and my boss doesn't. Indeed, I heard quite a loud mewing noise coming from the ceiling in the conference room. I told the guard and he called someone.

Then, I got distracted because my students left yesterday and there were a lot of tears and hugs and words of inspiration after a life-changing experience (mostly for them, but also for me).

In the middle of this, I heard a knock on the door followed by the familiar mewing and there was one of my colleagues holding the TINIEST kitten I've ever physically seen in my life. The maintenance people found her (I'm around 85% sure she's female) in the ceiling tiles in the conference room, all alone.

I was then distracted again by the goodbyes, but also very much thinking about the little orphan found in the ceiling. So when my students left, I went and found the little one in my colleague's office. She told me that she had sent out an email via Chilespouses (she's also a gringa) and was waiting for a response. She was worried because her husband hates cats and they were going to be moving the next day. Right away I told her not to worry, that I'd take the little one home at least for the night until we found her a home.

Before the day was out she had luckily received a response, but the little orphan couldn't go to her new family until today.

So that's how I ended up with this tiny visitor last night. She was the perfect guest, very polite and didn't make a peep the entire night. She learned how to use the "litter box" I set up for her on the first try and drank water and ate kitten food. In the end, she was a much happier kitty than when she was found.

Today I brought her back to the office where she happily napped in Charlie's carrier (which was like a mansion for her) and occasionally wanted out to explore under my desk. Then, after work, my colleague took her to her new home where hopefully she is getting lots of love and attention. I think she's going to be a great cat. She likes people, is very loving and playful and is a purring machine.

Charlie wasn't very happy about her presence, but he tolerated her at a distance. He was curious/scared of her at first, and then just pissed because I wouldn't let him in the bathroom (his favorite room). But now all is forgiven and he knows that he'll always be my number one man.

The Teletón

2010-12-12T11:41:00.004-03:00

This year was my first Teletón. Seems strange, considering I've spent a combined total of 30 months of my life in Chile. But since I studied abroad first semester, I missed it then, and Teletóns don't happen during Presidential election years (aka 2009) so I missed it last year too.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. What is the Teletón? It's a phoneathon fundraiser that takes place every December (except Presidential election years). It lasts for a continuous 27 hours to raise money for Fundación Teletón rehabilitation centers throughout Chile for children with developmental disabilities. It was started in 1978 by Don Francisco, aka Mario Kreutzberger, a TV personality who hosts Sábado Gigante, a variety show that is well known throughout Latin America.

During the 27 hour transmission, all the major network TV channels in Chile transmit the show. It's a combination of entertainment (Ricky Martin, Faith No More, Americo, etc performed this year), testimonies from children who are recipients of the rehabilitation centers' services, the presentation of donations and advertisements from the companies that sponsored the Teletón.

So now, my impressions. First of all, I think this is a great cause. This year, the Teletón raised over US $35 million for the construction of and continued functioning of rehabilitation centers throughout Chile. There is no doubt that these children and their families benefit enormously from this service. Also, I think this event definitely brings Chileans together in solidarity with a great cause, and after the year Chile has had, this is definitely a positive thing.

There were two things that rubbed me the wrong way. The first being that it kind of felt like a 27 hour advertisement for the companies that sponsored the Teletón. The second was that I didn't like the constant scolding by Don Francisco and the emcees about the lack of funds flowing through. At the beginning, when they called into various banks throughout the country, the banks would report how much they had earned so far compared with last year. In most cases, it was lower, and the emcees would act disappointed and call on the people of that region to get to the bank to donate. However, in the end, they surpassed their goal of $16 billion pesos and change, so I'm not sure all the scolding was really necessary.

So there you have it, Teletón. Oh, and I have to say that I still have this little ditty stuck in my head (it's the number of the bank account, in case you were wondering).

Reasons why I hate being sick

2010-12-09T19:24:00.002-03:00

I promise this blog won't turn into a "Reasons why" blog. Just bear with me* because I'm sick.

Feverish dreams and thoughts. Over the past two days, I had a fever for almost 20 hours straight, plus on and off for another 8 hours. This means that I slept horribly. And every time I managed to fall into some sort of a sleep, I dreamed the strangest things, like that each of my legs had a mind of its own and needed to be placed with a host family. I kid you not. That was a major concern of my feverish brain. Also, the inability to NOT think crazy things like that drives me nuts.
Cleaning up my own vomit. Sorry if that was TMI, I just had to put it out there.
The boring diet you have to eat. At this point, I honestly don't feel like eating anything, but I know I need to or else, you know, I'll die probably. And the LAST thing on earth I feel like eating are Galletas de Agua (Water Crackers?) which are so awful and dry and tasteless.
Going to the doctor. First of all, I always feel inadequate when I go to the doctor, like I'm not sick enough. For example, when I went to the doctor this morning, my fever was pretty much gone and when he took my temperature it came out at a very normal 36.9 degrees Celsius (pretty much like 98.4 degrees Fahrenheit). Also, the doctor's office is normally a nightmare, and today was no exception. There were two small children running around, one yelling at the other to "attack me! attack me!" and then when the mother finally got them to calm down one of them started whining that he was hungry and wouldn't shut up about it. Also, a little old woman tried to cut me in line when I went to pay my co-pay and the teenager sitting next to me was listening to his music on his cell phone without headphones. HELL!
How tired you get after doing any simple task. Yesterday I took a shower and then promptly had to take a 2 hour nap. Today I went to the doctor and slept for 4 hours after that. After writing this blog post, I'll probably have to sleep for an hour or so.

That is all. Time for a nap.

*I had to look up on Google whether it was "bear with me" (my first instinct) or "bare with me" and this explanation made me laugh: "bare with me would be an invitation to undress". Hahaha. Could it be that being sick also makes my sense of humor that of a 10 year old's? Oh well.

Reasons why I'm happy

2010-12-06T13:45:00.005-03:00

I went to Valpo and Viña this weekend with Jack and it was so relaxing. We stayed at a beautiful apartment in Playa Ancha and spent the days walking along the beach, eating delicious food, and laying on the beach. Oh, and of course watching the Teletón, which I had never seen before. That probably deserves a post all of its own.
Universidad Católica won the Championship!! I'm not that into Chilean soccer teams, but I hate Colo Colo because it's like being a fan of the Yankees. Who wants to cheer for the team with the most money and that everyone cheers for? Plus, their uniforms are fugly. And I strongly dislike the Universidad de Chile because a bunch of hoodlums on their way to a game stole my purse. Also I've been to a few U. Católica games and the stadium is in one of the most beautiful spots in Santiago (even though it's so far away it's practically Argentina...)
I'm going home for Christmas in 17 days! I can't wait.
Wednesday is a holiday! Yay for breaking up the workweek. I think I'm going to go to the pool on Cerro San Cristobal. Fun.

Well, I think 4 reasons are enough to be happy, especially for a Monday.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

2010-11-30T09:41:00.001-03:00

You may have recently noticed that my posts recently have been fewer and far between.

Like some other bloggers in Chile, namely Andrea and Kyle, I feel as though I have nothing more to say about life in Chile, because it's no longer "life in Chile"...it's just...life.

I've been thinking about this a lot. I considered stopping to blog altogether. This wouldn't be the end of the world for me, because I have a personal blog with my friends so I could still write for an audience, although a much smaller one.

But then I thought about the members of my family who read this blog and tell me that they feel more connected to me through my writing. I don't want to end that. So then I thought maybe I'd put a password on the blog so I could write more personal things.

I don't really like that idea though, because then if someone asked for the password and I didn't really feel like giving it to them I would feel bad.

And then it dawned on me. In the end, this is MY blog. The title even indicates that very well. It says nothing about Chile or being an expat or traveling. It's just mine. So I can write whenever and how ever much I want. It might not be about Chile. I might write five posts in a row about my cat. I can do that.

I think it's inevitable, however, that some posts will be about Chile. After all, I'm still constantly reminded that I'm "different", like today when I had to stifle laughter and remember not to contradict my suegra (Jack's mother) when she said the reason I have a cold is because of the fuertes cambios de temperatura (strong changes in temperature).

So bear with me, audience, as this blog goes through some growing pains. I'll still be here, but maybe not as much. As always, you can write me an email if you have specific questions about Chile of if you want to know if I'm still alive. I'd even accept suggestions for posts if you've got those.

What I'm Thankful For

2010-11-26T17:44:00.003-03:00

I would be a very bad blogger if I didn't write about the things for which I am thankful. I haven't had time before today because along with my boss, we prepared a full Thanksgiving meal for the students and it was A LOT of work. My kitchen is tiny (although not as small as Eileen's) so at times it was challenging to find surfaces to put everything on, and I had to cook everything in shifts. But it was all delicious, and for that I am thankful.

What I am really thankful for, however, is that I decided to go to the doctor's on Wednesday, specifically the dermatologist. I went for a really vain reason. Ever since I moved to Chile, I've been getting these white bumps on my face, and I wanted to know what to do about them. While I was there, I also asked the doctor about a mole that I've had for a little while that seemed a bit strange to me.

Turns out, I have to get it removed because it might be cancerous.

I'm also thankful that I have really good health insurance that covers the entire procedure except for a co-pay of around $10.000 pesos (approximately US $20.00).

And of course, I'm very thankful for all of the blessings in my life: my supportive family, my friends, my boyfriend, Charlie, going home for Christmas, my health and my happiness.

I know it's a bit late, but...Happy Thanksgiving!

A week of music

2010-11-20T19:49:00.005-03:00

My idea of a good time after work usually involves one of three things. If it's a Tuesday, I hike up to Vitacura to spend an hour and a half "teaching" my private student which usually just involves us talking about anything and everything and drinking tea and eating strawberries. It's lovely. If it's a Thursday sometimes I get together with my girlfriends and we drink some sort of alcoholic beverages and talk about life. If it's any other day of the week, I run some errands, come home, take a nap with Charlie, wake up, make dinner, clean a bit then watch some TV shows from the US, read three pages of La ciudad y los perros and then go to bed. Once in a while Jack will come over, or we will go out for pizza and wait an hour to be served by a girl named Elke at Pizza Hut.

What I don't normally do after work is go to concerts. But this week was an exception.

Photo by HS, my camera is still broken

On Wednesday, I headed up to Espacio Riesco in Huechuraba to SUE (Santiago Urbano Electronico) which is a two day music festival featuring two bands each night. On Wednesday it was Mika and Scissor Sisters. I went mainly for Mika, as did the majority of people there. It was a great show and even though the venue wasn't 100% full, the crowd was really hopping. Mika speaks some Spanish so he was very endearing to the crowd, and at a couple of points the Chilenas started chanting "Mika mi'jito rico!" (I have to admit, he IS quite attractive).

Photo also by HS

One of the guys I went with used to study at Universidad Adolfo Ibáñez, which is arguably one of the most cuico universities in Santiago (also a really good university, especially for business). He saw four different people he knew from studying there and I would say that that pretty much summed up the type of crowd. Needless to say, I think my friends and I were the only ones to arrive by micro and not by Mercedes Benz.

Scissor Sisters was not as good. The problem was that their performance style depends A LOT on English, and the crowd just wasn't getting their jokes AT ALL. Also, the main singer had a cold and lost his falsetto, which was a bummer. Half the crowd had left before they came on (at around 12:30...WAY past my bedtime) so that also diminished the energy.

On Thursday, Jack emailed me that he had tickets to see Itzhak Perlman and the Prague City Orchestra in Parque Bicentenario. Was I interested? WAS I INTERESTED? Hello! Yes. So after work I rushed home and changed into formal wear and thank God thought to get my pea coat out of storage.

We had seats in the way back, but we had a really good (but small) view of the stage. The concert theme was music from movies, and as they played, scenes from the movie were projected on a screen. They played music from Gone With the Wind, The Godfather, Scent of a Woman, Out of Africa, Schindler's List and more. Apparently, Jack and I left at the intermission because we didn't realize it wasn't over. It was REALLY cold and there was a massive exodus during the intermission, so we thought it was over and left too. There was no type of announcement to the fact either, so how were we supposed to know? But anyway, it was for the best because even with my pea coat I was frozen and my butt was numb from the hard seat.

All in all, it was an entertaining week, but I know for a fact that I can't do this every week. I've spent all day today in bed with a sore throat, and I know its from lack of sleep this week. However, it was good to break out of my routine for a couple of days in the name of good music.

Whose idea was it to build a country over an earthquake?

2010-11-16T20:43:00.005-03:00

A couple of weeks ago I went to see a play at Matucana 100, a cultural center and theater in Estación Central. It was an "experimental" play called Historia Abierta. The play combines visual art, music, dance and acting to tell different stories about Chile, its people and its history. There were a couple of scenes that were a little too "artsy-fartsy" (as my Dad would say) for me, but overall I thought it was really well done.

My favorite scene, by far, depicted a couple in the south of Chile. They are standing at their kitchen counter chopping vegetables, and it is temblando, as they say here in Chile. The ground is shaking, but it's not a full-out earthquake. So the couple is standing there, talking about the shaking and one says to the other, "A quien se le ocurrió construir un país sobre un terremoto?" Whose idea was it to build a country over an earthquake? But they don't seem too worried. They just accept it as the way life is.

And then, it stops shaking. The woman starts to get nervous and looks at her husband then screams, "Un calmor!" Which is not a real word, but basically sounds like temblor and means a calm period without shaking. She starts to get hysterical and asks her husband where their son is. He tells her to calm down, that he's with a friend playing in the street. Then she insists her husband go look for her kid in the street because it might be dangerous. She starts crying. Her husband comforts her saying, "It'll be over soon, don't worry."

Then, it starts shaking again. And the couple calms down. They say "Thank God, the calmor is over. It's finished." They go back to chopping vegetables.

Obviously, this scene is an exaggeration, but I have to tell you, after February 27th, I can identify. The first strong aftershocks weren't fun at all. They were scary and for me, even worse than the actual earthquake. However, after awhile, I just got used to feeling the little shakes every once in a while. A few weeks ago, I realized I hadn't felt one in a long time, maybe a month or so. I started to feel nervous. Then I felt one, and even though it still freaks me out a tiny bit (I sit in my chair and calmly see how strong its going to be and contemplate opening my apartment door while my heart beats through my chest), after the fact I felt relieved.

A while ago, my boss and I were trying to decide where to go on our once a semester trip with the students. She said, "It's still temblando in the South, I don't know if we should go." I said jokingly, "It will always be temblando in the South!"

In closing, I would like to show you this video that Margaret posted on her Facebook today. It's a scene from the Chilean show Los 80s and depicts the 1985 earthquake, which was 7.8 on the Richter Scale, but its epicenter was closer to Santiago (for reference, the 2010 earthquake was 8.8, but its epicenter was farther south). I first saw this scene when it aired on TV, and let me tell you, it gave me goosebumps. Even though the February 27th earthquake happened at night, so the environment was a bit different, it can give you a good idea of what it's like to be in an earthquake (if you've never been in one before!). Also, if you live in Chile, try to watch Los 80s. It airs every Sunday at 10:00pm on Canal 13, and it's by far the best Chilean television I've ever seen.

A city of contrasts

2010-11-14T22:48:00.003-03:00

Today I went to Parque Arauco, which is a big, modern mall in Las Condes, which is one of the poshest neighborhoods in Chile. It's actually one of the nicest malls I've ever been in. It has a large boulevard with numerous restaurants such as TGI Fridays, Asian Bistro, Tony Romas, Starbucks, Boost, etc. Inside the mall, there are store such as Armani, Tommy Hilfiger, Polo Ralph Lauren, Kenneth Cole, etc. The people who shop there are ABC1, in the highest socio-economic classes. For a really good explanation of these categories, check out Andrea's post here. I don't go to Parque Arauco very often, because I only have time to go on the weekends and large crowds of people overwhelm me. Plus, it's not super easy to get to from my apartment, although there is a direct micro if I walk a few blocks to it. Today I went for two things completely unrelated: shoes and brackets. The first is self-explanatory, the second is because I'm desperately trying to hang some curtains that my mom gave to me SIX MONTHS AGO, but my walls are not cooperating because they are too hard to drill into, so I thought I'd try the ceiling, hence the new brackets.

But anyway, I digress.

So there I was this morning, among the elite of Chile, buying some brackets and some shoes. Then I came home and ate some lunch and took a nap, then got on the metro and went south to the metro station Camino Agricola, where Jack picked me up and we went to his church in La Legua, a población in the neighborhood of San Joaquin. . Based on Andrea's descriptions, I would say the majority of people who live in La Legua are in Group D, some might be in Group E, some might be in Group C3. Most houses are very simple, cement dwellings with few windows. There's a lot of graffiti and a TON of street dogs. There's trash on the street and sidewalks. The parks lack grass and are run down.

And then, after church, we were driving home and Jack decided he wanted to drive up Macul, which is a street that is kind of an extension of Los Leones (and changes names several times). We started out in the comuna of Macul, and then as we crossed into Ñuñoa (a middle-upper middle class neighborhood) I said, "Now we're in Ñuñoa" and Jack said, "Yeah, you can tell because of the nice private high school over there."

It blows my mind the contrasts in Santiago. And I feel so grateful and priviledged to be able to move throughout the city to observe them. There are Santiaguinos who never leave the neighborhood they were born in. There are people from the "barrios altos" (high, upper class neighborhoods) who never venture beyond Plaza Italia. And there are people from the "barrios bajos" who don't ever go to downtown Santiago, not to mention the "barrios altos". I think it's good to see how other people live. And I consider myself very blessed to live where I live, but to also be able to see the many sides of my adopted city.

Prime Time Dreams

2010-11-10T19:56:00.006-03:00

Last night I came to the conclusion that I need to watch less movies and/or TV episodes from the US right before I go to bed.

I dreamed that I was being held captive in my old playroom (a la Toy Story III) by John Stamos (who has guest starred on Glee recently) and his side-kick Shane (from Weeds). Also present was Peggy (from Mad Men) who was John Stamos' girlfriend but later secretly helped me escape. But then John Stamos sent his army of dogs (kind of like in Up, although I haven't seen that recently) after me and I ended up captive again, this time in my old bathroom.

And then I woke up.

Judgy McSanderson

2010-11-08T18:24:00.002-03:00

I'll fully admit, apparently I have a problem with substances getting into my electronics. Remember when my laptop was full of fuzz? And remember Judgy McJudgerson? Well, he is hereby christened Judgy McFuzzerson, because ladies and gentlemen, he's got some competition in the judgy department: Judgy McSanderson.

So when I was in the south, I went to the beach and dropped my camera case in the sand. (I also dropped my glasses and then almost forgot them there, you can tell I was having a good day). Without thinking, I then proceeded to put my camera in its case without shaking the sand out.

The next day I turned on my camera and there was an awful crunching noise. Sand in the lens. So after I snapped two pictures, I shut it off. Then just to see, I tried to turn it on again. No luck.

So today, I brought it to an official Sony Servicio Tecnico here in Providencia (Santa Beatriz 205, in case anyone needs the dato). I walk in and explain my problem. The man raises his eyebrows at me and examines the camera. "You dropped the camera in the sand?" he says, as if that were the most idiotic thing a person could do EVER IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND. So I explained to Mr. McSanderson that no, it was the camera case. He just sighed and I swear to God he rolled his eyes.

He then proceeded to tell me it would be $9000 pesos just to price out how much the repair was going to cost. It seems pricey, but cheaper than buying a new camera, I suppose. He then opened up the compartment where the battery and memory card go and took them both out. Then he tried to tap out any sand that might have been in there. Nothing came out, but he rubbed the counter where the invisible sand had fallen and said, "Yeah, this is full of sand." (You stupid little gringa who doesn't know how to take care of her camera, said his eyes and tone of voice.)

Maybe in Servicio Tecnico school they teach you to be judgmental so therefore to justify the ridiculous prices they charge, to make you believe that your problem is really bad and therefore deserves the amount they charge. Or maybe I just bring out the judgy in people, who knows.

Me verás en el sur

2010-11-07T16:21:00.013-03:00

Last weekend I went to the VIII Region of Chile with work. Specifically, we went to the Provincia de Arauco, which is known for being home to the Lafquenches, or the Mapuches from the coast. I learned A TON on this trip, some of which I had learned and then forgotten from my Mapuche Art and Culture class that I took while I studied abroad here almost four years ago, and some which I never even knew. The landscape is SO GREEN, and because you can't see the volcanoes like you can in the areas around Osorno or Pucón, it really truly reminded me of Vermont (except for the odd palm tree or araucaria thrown in there).

First up on the agenda, we visited Lota, a town known for its undersea carbon mines and the setting for the book and movie Subterra. We visited the mines and the park that used to be home to Luis Cousiño and Isidora Goyenechea, owners of the Lota mines. We also went to the beach near Lota and that's where my camera got sand in the lens and is patiently awaiting repair. Therefore, the rest of this pictures are courtesy my travel companions.

After Lota, we headed into Cañete, where we stayed for the three nights we were there. Cañete is famous because it's where the Mapuches killed Pedro de Valdivia, the Spanish conqueror of Chile.

Photo Courtesy HS

We visited Contulmo, a German town whose wooden houses are a patrimony to humanity, and went to the cementary on October 31st, not in honor of Halloween, but in honor of The Day of the Dead, where people clean the tombs in preparation for All Saints Day on November 1st.

Photo Courtesy AN

And we spent time with Lafquenches from the area, both at the Mapuche Museum outside Cañete and at Ruka Lelbun in Elicura. It was so interesting to get a first hand perspective on the Mapuche struggle to maintain their identity. The vast majority of Mapuche children nowadays are growing up without learning Mapundugun, the indigenous language. The majority of Mapuches who grow up and go to the university don't ever go back to their native villages. It was also interesting to learn that Mapuche "communities" are very disperse and organized by family clans (even today), so for that reason a lot of Mapuches don't agree with the more radical Mapuche resistance movement, including the hunger strike and violent acts. Some accept the fact that they live in the Chilean state, and want to do so as peacefully as possible without losing their heritage, while others are extremely bitter and want to recuperate their ancestral lands from the Bio Bio River down to Chiloé, through whatever means possible.

Photo Courtesy IY

Another interesting thing we learned throughout the trip were the medicinal and practical properties of many plants of the region. Here I'm pictured holding hinojo which smells like licorice and is used in a tea that aids in digestion (I think, it was something about the stomach).

Photo Courtesy LM

It was an eye opening trip, and I'm glad that I'll be able to go back next year to learn even more.

A Random Update

2010-11-02T20:34:00.005-03:00

Despite what my recent blog activity would suggest, I am, indeed, alive. I have some posts brewing, including a recap of my trip down south last weekend. I went to the area south of Concepción, in the province of Arauco, an area that is seldom visited by international tourists and has a large Mapuche population. It was an interesting and eye opening trip, only dampened by the fact that my camera stopped working after the first day when I got sand in the lens on the beach. However, my traveling companions have lots of pictures that they will share with me.
A perk of my job is that I can discover things like Mika, who apparently has been around forever (well since circa 2007) but since I live under a rock, I haven't ever listened to. (Except for an acapella version of Lolipop that one of the acapella groups a Colby performed, but I had no idea who it was by at the time). Now he's coming to Santiago on the 17th of November, and I want to go, but the stupid Feria Ticket page is so slow it keeps timing out so I can't see how much tickets are. Frustrating.
I have a bike. Have I mentioned that here? I don't think I have. So far, it's been great to ride to work in. The ride home, on the other hand, is uphill and can be quite tiring. I didn't think about this when I bought a bike with no gears, so let's just say my thigh muscles are getting a great workout!
I promise to write a real post soon. I have so many great ideas, I just need to get over this case of temporary ADD and write them down properly.

Amen

2010-10-24T23:13:00.004-03:00

Ever since I was a baby, I have gone to the same church with my family. It belongs to the denomination The United Church of Christ (UCC), which besides the Unitarian Universalist Church, may be one of the most liberal branches of Protestantism. Our services aren't as formal as a traditional Catholic mass, but they aren't the "Praise Jesus!" types of services you may see at a Southern Baptist or Evangelical church. In my mind, it's a happy medium between the two.

So, last week, the guy I'm dating (I'll call him Jack*) invited me to his church. I accepted, because I could tell it was important to him, but I honestly didn't know what to expect. However, I'm no stranger to different types of church services, or services in Spanish. In El Salvador, I lived with a very Catholic family who practiced Liberation Theology, and went to mass with them every week (sometimes more than once). I also participated in Lutheran services in El Salvador, and I've been to an all-black Baptist church in Georgia.

I went with an open mind, and I was blown away.

The church service in itself was very different than anything I've ever experienced. There was lots of singing (including a full band to accompany: two guitars, bass, drums and auxiliary percussion), lots of praying out loud (I'm used to silent prayers), lots of "Amen"-ing, and in general, a lot of joy.

The best part was, though, by far, the people. Jack's church is in the población La Legua in San Joaquin. As we were driving in, he asked me if I had ever been to a población before. I said I hadn't. He said, "Well, the people are different." I asked what he meant by that. "They're warmer. They will come up to you and ask you how you are, they'll hug you, they'll welcome you."

It was all true. Practically everyone in the congregation gave me a big hug (I'm talking a bear hug here, not a polite squeeze), welcomed me, blessed me and in general were so warm and friendly. I left the church with a huge grin on my face, infected by the positive attitudes of those around me.

I took a huge, giant leap out of my comfort zone tonight, and it was one of the most rewarding experiences I've had so far in Chile. I know I'll go back to the church. Maybe I don't agree with every aspect of their theology, maybe I'm not comfortable shouting "Amen!" and praying out loud, but I know the members of the congregation are special. And for that, I'll be back. Amen.

*Jack is Chilean. I have had the luck (?) of dating three guys here in Chile whose names all begin with the same letter, so to avoid confusion, this will be his pseudonym. I know, you're thinking, at least pick a Spanish name! But, Jack invented it himself. We were talking the other day about how I like to write and how one day I want to write the story of my life. He said, "Well, you can't use my real name. You should call me Jack." So, Jack he shall be.

Random sources of Inspiration

2010-10-18T22:04:00.010-03:00

Around 9:30 at night most of you are probably winding down for the evening, maybe watching some TV or if you're in Chile, eating once or dinner. If you're my parents you're probably in bed.

Most nights, that is me too. However, sometimes I get these rushes of energy around this time and just have to do something. Usually, I bake. I've got banana bread, brownies, cookies, zucchini bread, lemon bread and various other desserts down pat. But two nights ago I felt like doing something different.

My inspiration came from two sources. This past week (in three one-hour installments) I watched The Fiddler on the Roof, which along with The Sound of Music vies for the honor of being My Favorite Movie of All Time. If you've never seen it, stop what you're doing right now and watch it. It's an amazing film, and I promise you that the music will get stuck in your head for weeks. But that's okay, because the songs are awesome. One of my favorite songs (and scenes) from the movie is the first one, called Tradition. Here's a peek:

Not that I'm advocating the traditional gender roles depicted in the song. Not at all. But the scene that inspired me was at around 2:17, when the mamas are kneading bread. I realized that I haven't kneaded bread in so long, since I was maybe 10 years old and helping my mom make dough for our Christmas sticky buns (before we started making pre-made dough!). There's something so calming about kneading bread dough.

A few days later I was watching something completely different. And that was Dexter, yes, the show about the "good" serial killer who only kills criminals. There was a scene in the police station and behind two of the characters was an entire tray CHOCK FULL OF BAGELS. There was every type available, and my only thought was, why aren't those two characters HOUSING those bagels behind them? (Tried to find the clip on YouTube, but no luck!)

So, I decided to make bagels. I got the recipe here. I halved it because I didn't have enough flour. This was the final result:
Ok, so they aren't the prettiest bagels ever, but they were delicious. They got a little hard on day two, so I had to hurry up and eat them (that was the only solution, obviously). Next time I want to try cinnamon raisin or onion or something exciting. They were actually way easier to make than I had imagined. So for all of you here in Chile that are really missing bagels, try making them. You won't be disappointed!

Abigail

2010-10-14T22:05:00.003-03:00

As you could probably guess, my full first name is Abigail. Almost everyone I know calls me Abby, but here in Chile that causes some minor inconveniences. For some reason, "Abby" sounds like "Javi" which is a nickname for "Javiera", and on more than one occasion people have become confused and thought my name was, indeed, Javiera. Also, I almost always have to spell Abby, and Chileans tend to have problems with double letters.

So, most of the time, I go by Abigail here. Plus, it's my full name, and Chileans are formal enough that when introducing yourself you should use your full name even if everybody usually calls you something else. Here, Abigail is pronounced "Ah-bee-guy-EEL", and most people know how to spell it already, only sometimes confusing the "B" with a "V" (they sound the same in Spanish).

There is one reason why people know my name here: a soap opera.

Back in the 1980s, there was a soap opera (or teleserie) from Venezuela called, you got it, Abigail, starring Catherine Fulop (if you'd like to see some woman-flesh, I suggest doing a Google Images search for her...ahem!). EVERYONE in Chile who was old enough to watch TV in the 80s knows this soap opera. Inevitably, when I tell people my name, they tell me about the teleserie.

Yesterday, I was in a taxi with a very friendly driver. Normally I don't like talking to taxi drivers because they always ask the same questions and it gets tiring. But this guy was so happy and positive that his good energy rubbed right off on me and we had a good time talking about anything and everything. At the end of the ride, he asked me my name.

"Ahhh, Abigail. A Venezuelan name," he said.

I laughed and replied, "No, it's actually Hebrew, but you're right, there was a Venezuelan teleserie called that."

"And are you like the Abigail from the show?" He asked.

"I doubt it, but to tell you the truth, I've never watched it. I don't even know what it's about!" I confessed.

Thank God for YouTube, you can find almost anything.

My conclusion? I'm pretty much nothing like Abigail, who is a high school girl in love with her literature professor. She's pretty sassy, spoiled, and a huge flirt.

The above video is in Spanish, but if you'd like to laugh at some 80s fashion and sound effects, I invite you to take a look, but rewind to about 1:18 because the opening credits are long!

Miners Rescued

2010-10-13T12:04:00.003-03:00

Unless you've been living under a rock you have probably heard about the Chilean Miners who were trapped in the San José Mine for 17 days before they were "found" by drilling a tiny bore hole into their refuge 2300 feet underground. Finally, 69 days later, they are being bulled out from the bowels of the earth, one by one, through a tube no more than 2 feet wide, in a capsule called The Phoenix (or El Fénix, if you're speaking Spanish). You can go to almost any International News site (that link is to CNN) and see coverage of the rescue.

It was really emotional to see the first miner rescued last night. I was on the verge of falling asleep around 11:00pm and considered hitting the hay, but I'm so glad I forced myself to stay awake until 12:10am, when the first miner came out. I can't even describe the sensation of seeing the capsule come out of the ground and then soon after, the first miner, Florencio Avalos, step out and hug his wife and son. Apparently the second miner was a bit more entertaining (he brought rocks up from the mine as gifts!), but by that point I was fast asleep.

As I write this, the 14th miner has just been rescued. It looks like the rescue effort might take less time than anticipated.

I'm so amazed at the combination of technology and cooperation that facilitated the miners' rescue. And I'm so grateful for the authorities working on this project, that they didn't lose faith and these 33 men are (or soon will be) reunited with their families. And not to forget the miners themselves, who through a strict regimen were able to maintain their physical and mental health for SIXTY NINE days underground. I know that I couldn't have done it.

The miners still have a long road ahead. My thoughts are with them as they begin to recover and are bombarded by the press. Also, I hope that among the fanfare and joy we don't forget the reason why this happened in the first place. Along with being heroes, the miners are also victims of dangerous working conditions. Hopefully the authorities have learned from this and will improve regulations for smaller mining operations.

But for now, Viva Chile! and Vivan los mineros!

10 most important things

2010-10-08T14:25:00.002-04:00

The other day after class, one of my students asked me to help him with an art project. I looked at him strangly, because based on my white-board illustrations, he obviously knew that I was no artist. He quickly explained that the only thing I had to do was write down the 10 most important things in my life, without taking too much time to think.

This was my list:

1. Family
2. Friends
3. Happiness
4. Love
5. Books
6. Learning
7. My cat (Charlie)
8. Travel
9. Adventure
10....

I couldn't think of a tenth. He told me it was okay, that I could put just nine.

When I got home I started doing my normal nightly activities, making something to eat and tidying up around the apartment. I am ALWAYS humming some sort of song, and turns out that night it was the song "The Sound of Music" from the musical by the same name. It's my favorite movie of all time and I had just watched it the day before.

Then it hit me: MUSIC was my 10th thing.

What are your 10 things? Try not to think about it too much, but just write what first comes to your mind.

Life is good

2010-10-07T20:54:00.002-04:00

Tonight I came home at 5:30. And I didn't have to leave the house again. AMAZING. I am obviously going to miss my students, but having free time at night is something that I've never had since living in Chile. Today I was able to take a short nap, clean the bathroom, wash my mountain of dishes and take out the trash! Then I made a delicious dinner (something more than toast with avocado!) and talked with my parents. These are all usually activities that are reserved for Saturdays or Sundays only, so to be able to do them on a weekday is pretty cool for me.

In other great news, I just booked a ticket home for Christmas. I arrive Christmas Eve Day and leave on January 7th, so I'll be there for two weeks. At this point I don't know exactly where "home" will be because my parents sold our house and are currently living in a rental, which they hope to leave at the beginning of November, but my entire family lives in Vermont, so I know I won't have to worry about having a place to stay.

I originally was going to spend Christmas in Chile, so being able to go home is doubly exciting for me! Thanks, new job!

Adventures in Northern Argentina

2010-10-03T10:01:00.025-04:00

My trip to Northern Argentina was unlike any trip I've ever taken. Why? In the past, I've always taken public transportation, namely buses. However, for this trip, we rented a car and it made all the difference. We didn't do much on our trip, but we saw a lot of things, namely because we weren't limited by going where inter-city buses go. Granted our car (pictured below) wasn't an SUV, so we did have some problems on some terrain, but we were still able to see a lot of amazing things. I'm going to recap the trip day by day through the photos that I took. And yes, we fit five people and five hiking backpacks into that car. Amazing, right?

Our trusty VW Gol

Day One

I arrived to the Salta Airport in the morning, and my friend and her three Peace Corps friends picked me up from the airport. They had been in the area for two days already and were just returning from Cafayate, which is an up and coming wine producing area, known for the white wine Torrontés. As soon as I got in the car, we headed north to the Provincia de Jujuy (pronounced hoo-hooey). I had gotten very little sleep the night before (spent in the Aeroparque in Buenos Aires) so I tried to sleep, but due to the curvy road through a weird looking forest (no pictures, sorry) it was quite difficult. We stopped for lunch in San Salvador de Jujuy, which was really not worth exploring, so we quickly moved on. The landscape north of San Salvador looked like this:

We finally reached our destination, Pumamarca, in the late afternoon. After parking our car and finding a hostel, we went for a short walk around the back part of the village.

We saw many views like this. Pumamarca is the home of the Seven-Colored Rock. I didn't get a really great picture of that particular rock, but as you can see, the rocks are pretty, even if these are only tri-colored.
I really love cemeteries, so I couldn't resist getting a few shots of this one.

Day Two

The next morning we woke up fairly early and headed out to Salinas Grandes, which is a salt flat about 40km from Pumamarca on the road to Chile. This was the view heading down into the salt flats. (The white upside down triangle in the distance are the salt flats).

I've never been to Salar de Uyuni (in Bolivia) but have seen pictures, and although these salt flats were cool to see, they didn't really compare with the pictures I had seen of Uyuni. It was worth the drive, though, because the scenery was beautiful and we saw guanacos, which are a small camelid, related to the llama and alpaca, but who live in the wild.

This was the road we went up and down on the way to Salinas Grandes. Impressive, right?

After the salt flats, we headed north to Humahuaca. This is a statue in the town paying tribute to the heroes of Argentina's Independence. I'm kind of confused as to why it features the indigenous population. I guess I need to brush up on my Argentine history.

These are my friend M's fellow Peace Corps volunteers, taking in the scenery of Humahuaca.

The scenery of Humahuaca was gorgeous.

That afternoon, after eating lunch, we headed out in search of some ruins that the lady at the tourist office had told us existed. We drove on dirt roads past Humahuaca for about 10 km in search of these ruins. The only thing we found was a small village (which the boys named Rock Village) with some goat herders. Then we headed a bit north (on the main highway, which was paved, thank God!) in search of some other ruins, but the only thing we found were cacti.

Day Three

The morning of Day Three we left the dry desert behind and headed to Calilengua National Park. To get there, we had to return to San Salvador de Jujuy, and then head North again on another road. We passed through some towns that are really not worth mentioning and finally reached the park. It is supposedly a rain forest, but since we were there in the dry season, there was absolutely nothing rainy about it. After reaching the park entrance, and going on a hike that was supposed to take one hour but took 15 minutes, we decided to drive through the park to a village called San Francisco, where we heard that there were hot springs. The only problem was that we needed to drive 45 km on a road that looked something like this:

That's right, 45 km of dirt switchbacks. We almost died at least once when a motorcycle came racing around a corner and we had to slam on the breaks not to hit them. After that, I spent the rest of the ride with my eyes closed and trying not to look out the window. I probably made everyone really nervous because I kept telling my friend (who was driving) to honk before she went around the corners.
But, the treacherous drive was worth it as we arrived to San Francisco, a village of 50 families on top of a mountain. We stayed at Hostal Esquinas, whose owner, Italo, was a very helpful and kind man who taught us about the history of the village and surrounding area. There are two villages "near" San Francisco which can only be accessed by foot or on horseback. These villages are over 500 years old, and the indigenous that live there still maintain their traditional way of life. He also mentioned that there was a village of "gringos" which had me imagining a settlement of American and British people, but when I asked for clarification, he explained that he meant people of Spanish origin.

We went to the almacén and bought some vegetables and eggs and went back to the hostel and made dinner, because there are no restaurants in San Francisco.

Day Four

The plan for this day was to hike down to some hot springs. Italo warned us that it would be a difficult hike, but we were game so we headed out bright and early. We walked for an hour and a half down through a forest. It was a quite pleasant walk going down because it wasn't too steep and it was still quite cool.

We finally reached the river, but couldn't find the hot springs. N. and J., two of the boys, headed out to explore to see if they could find them, leaving me, my friend and D. behind. We waited for them for awhile, but then got nervous, so went off looking for them. They had since discovered a different path down to the hot springs. So the three of us headed down. Except "path" is not exactly the word I would use to describe what we were going down, more like a cliff. I am afriad of heights so I had a small panic attack that caused us to reevaluate the situation. D. went on ahead and then decided that the trail was too steep for him, so the three of us headed back up. The worst part was that I could see the beautiful hot springs from the side of the cliff, but I was so scared and freaking out that I couldn't make it down. Bummer.

Then we headed back up the trail, and it was HARD. By this time, it was around noon so the sun was beating down and the trail was ALL uphill. We had forgotten to fill up our water bottles in the river, so we didn't have much water, which made me kind of panicky. But anyway, we made it back up and then drove back down the 45km of dirt switchbacks and all the way back to Salta, arriving there around 7:00pm. That night, we went to a parrillada (Argentine steakhouse) and I had the most delicious bife chorizo (sirloin strip steak) I've ever had in my life (no picture, I ate it too fast). Then we went and had some beers in the plaza and I took this picture of the cathedral all lit up.

Day Five

Day five was spent exploring Salta. There is a really interesting Archeological museum that has two mummies on display. These mummies were found buried near the top of a nearby Volcano, and they are royal Incan children. It was interesting to learn their story, but kind of creepy to see the mummies. It makes me wonder that if these children were sacrificed for a religious purpose, shouldn't they be left where they were buried?

After the museum, we went and ate some traditional empanadas salteñas (which are small, yet delicious) and then went up Salta's gondola (similar to Santiago's teleferico). I should mention that throughout the trip, we always drank terere, which is a Paraguayan drink. It is basically ice cold yerba mate. It sounds disgusting, but it is delicious and refreshing, especially with mint leaves in the water. In this picture, J. is holding the terere cup.

At the top of the gondola was a beautiful park with a water fall. I have to say, the park in Salta might be nicer than San Cristobal in Santiago.

At the end of the day, my friends and traveling companions left to go back to Paraguay. I stayed another day, but didn't take any pictures. I mostly spent it buying souvenirs and books and reading said books in the various plazas throughout Salta. That night my flight left for Buenos Aires, and then after five hours of trying to sleep in Aeroparque again, my flight to Santiago left and I arrived home.

Fashion Emergency, Take 2

2010-10-01T22:13:00.003-04:00

Yesterday I was running a little late for class. Generally I like to arrive at least 20 minutes before class to gather my things, look over the book and think of some sort of interesting warm up. However, I was so excited about Jelly Belly finally coming to Chile, that I decided to go to OK Market on my way to class and therefore arrived with only five minutes to spare.

I headed down to the teacher's lounge and went to open my locker. It's the bottom locker, so I squatted down only to hear a giant RIIIIIIIP and there went the ENTIRE back seam of my pants.

Now, before you think I'm a fatty (well, I had just eaten a bag of Jelly Belly's, so maybe I am!) let me give you some background on these pants. I bought them at Zara more than a year ago. They are super versatile, because they are dress pants, but they're made of a stretchy-cotton material that is super comfortable. They are light enough to wear in summer, but also perfectly appropriate for winter. I wear (wore) them a lot. At least once if not twice a week. For more than a year. So they were a little worn. In fact, yesterday morning when I was holding them up to see if they were too wrinkly to wear, I noticed that the seam looked a little weak. But I thought, I'm not going to run or go hiking in them, so they should hold up. Famous last words.

So anyway, after just squatting there completely surprised and taken aback, I tried to decide what to do. THANK GOD there wasn't anyone else in the teacher's lounge just then because they would have gotten an eye full. I finally thought to tie my jacket around my waist. However, my jacket is really short, so I was still super paranoid about people being able to see my tush. As I walked from the lounge to the classroom, I felt like Jo in Little Women when she goes to Sally Moffat's engagement party and she's wearing the dress with the burnt backside and she tries to keep her back to the wall the whole time.

So I arrived to class and told my teenagers to bring their desks close to mine, and we managed to have class like that. I didn't even have to stand up once the entire class to write something on the board.

After class, I had 40 minutes before my second class started. So I booked it about five blocks to Paris to buy a new pair of pants. Luckily I had bought a pair of jeans about a month ago at Paris, so I decided to buy the same brand in the same size because I didn't have time to try them on. They didn't have the same model available, but I bought a similar one and thank God they fit.

I got to class and the two girls in my class told me how much they loved my pants.

If only they knew....

Bye, Miss

2010-09-29T21:44:00.005-04:00

In Chile, students don't call teachers by their names. They call them "Profe" which is an abbreviation of "profesor", or teacher. In their high school English classes, for some reason they call their female teachers "Miss" and their male teachers I actually have no idea. Maybe "Mister", that would be the logical choice. With my adult students I can usually convince them to call me by my first name instead of "Miss" or "Teacher." With my teenage students, though, it's impossible. One student told me that it was just too unnatural and disrespectful to call a teacher by their first name. So all my teenage students call me "Miss". In fact, they use it as a noun, as in "The Miss is so nice. She plays games with us all day."

So now for my BIG NEWS!!!

I am leaving the Institute. My new job has offered me full time employment, so as of next week, I'll be working there and only doing private English classes.

How do I feel? Well, today in the morning I felt so happy I could burst. I thought of the fact that I wouldn't have to worry about planning for up to five classes at a time. I'll probably arrive home before 9:00pm most nights. I won't have to fill out rollbooks only in pen and worry about making mistakes. I won't have to deal with grumpy students. I won't have to correct tests. I won't have to travel to throughout Santiago and to kingdom come on the smelly and hot metro. I won't have to worry that when I answer an unknown number, the secretary will be calling to ask me to sub at 8:30 on a Saturday morning.

However, on the other hand (there's always an on the other hand, right?), I am sad and nostalgic. I truly love teaching. I love meeting new people and learning about them. Every class is a bit different and has a different dynamic, and I like the unknown. I've been lucky that the majority of my classes have been great experiences. I get a thrill standing in front of the class and having everyone pay attention to me. I like having knowledge that other people don't and being able to share that with them. I enjoy inventing interesting activities and listening to students' discussions.

I think about one year nine months ago when I first started teaching at the Institute and how nervous I was. How I planned every class down to the minute and wrote it all out. How I was really strict with my kids' and teenagers' classes and was really disappointed when they didn't do the activities like the adults did (I have since learned!). How I spent hours searching Google for new activities and articles and podcasts. How I arrived at least five minutes early for every class. How I panicked if I hadn't fully prepared the class.

And now I think about now. I'm much more relaxed. I have an archive of activities, and I know what works well and what doesn't. I know which pages to skip in which books. I know which obscure vocabulary word to emphasize because it's on the test. If I don't plan a class, I can pretty much think of appropriate activities as I go. I can anticipate students' questions and mistakes. I play games and sing songs with teens and children, and have learned that competition always makes thing more interesting. I know which podcasts speak slow enough for students to understand, and which are impossible.

In other words, now that teaching is 100% easier for me, I'm leaving. And I'm having to learn all over again at my new job.

But that's pretty much what life is all about, right? If we always did the exact same thing, we'd all end up bitter and bored.

I'm going to be sad on the last day of class, when the students file out of the classroom saying "Bye, Miss." There won't be a "See you next class" and instead of "Have a good weekend" it will be more like "Have a good life." But I'm happy that I'll be able to continue teaching private classes, because yes, it's good money, but also because I won't have to 100% completely stop teaching. I enjoy it too much to do that.

Note: For anyone seeking information about teaching English in Chile, please don't think that you have to stop emailing me. I am still very willing to answer your questions, and if I don't know the answer, I can refer you to someone that does.

Random Observations about (Northern) Argentina

2010-09-25T21:25:00.001-04:00

So yes. I did it. I left Chile on perhaps the most important date of the year. I got a lot of comments about this, that it was unpatriotic, that I was a "traitor", etc. But it didn't really bother me because I knew I was going to have an awesome time in Argentina, and that I did. My friend M. has been doing the Peace Corps in Paraguay for the past two years and we've been trying to plan a trip for awhile now. Her time in Paraguay is up in December, so we decided that it was going to be September or never. The province of Jujuy, Argentina is a relatively easy bus ride from Paraguay and I planned dates so that the plane ticket for me wasn't too overpriced due to the holiday.

I will recap our trip in a later post, but first I'd like to make some observations about Northern Argentina. I've never been to Buenos Aires (unless you count the 5 hours I spent sleeping in the airport there), so these observations are not about BBAA or any other part of Argentina, for that matter. And I was only there for six days so obviously I didn't have time to closely observe or analyze the culture.

Anyway, without further ado...

1. Siesta is observed. From 1:30 to 5:00pm most stores (with the exception of grocery stores) are closed. In Salta, which is a large city, the restaurants luckily stayed open, but we were eating lunch at the market in San Salvador de Jujuy and they closed and locked the gates right after we left at 1:35.

2. There is a SERIOUS lack of small change. Let me tell you, I thought Chile had a problem. It is WAY worse in N. Argentina. No matter where we were (grocery store, restaurant, pharmacy), if we tried to break a bill larger than a $20 the person sighed and rolled their eyes and asked us for smaller bills. One of M.'s friends, D., tried to break a large bill at a big pharmacy chain and they refused to sell him the item because they didn't have the change. Also, a lot of the bills are really old. They're ripped and taped together. Also, if they're missing the security strip, they won't be accepted. Some placed won't accept ripped bills either, which is obviously a problem, because a vast majority look like they come from Peron's time in office.

3. Now, on a more positive note, the people are really friendly. I had to remind myself to get rid of my Santiago gruffness and smile and say hi to people. People waved to us on the road, they were willing to answer our questions (some more accurately than others) and seemed really interested us, but not in a "look there's some tourists, let's take advantage of them!" way. This could be because we were the only tourists in one of the villages we stayed in and also because we were in rural areas for the most part. I think that no matter what country you're in, people from the campo are friendlier.

4. Cubierto fee. At almost every restaurant we went to, there was a cubierto fee, which is a fee they charge you for using their plates, basically. Or for sitting in their chairs. I don't really know, it kind of baffled me. In Salta, it was around $5 Argentine pesos per person, in the other smaller towns around $2.50. As far as I could tell, this didn't replace the tip.

5. Natural Gas Stations. Some cars in Argentina run on Natural Gas. We made the mistake of turning into one of these thinking it was a normal gas station (gas=nafta in Argentina) until we saw all of the cars' hoods up and the attendant looked at us funny and told us to go down two more blocks to the nafta station.

6. Traffic lights. The traffic lights turn yellow before they turn green (in addition to turning yellow before red). M., who did a lot of the driving, said this was useful when driving a standard because it gave you time to shift.

7. Completo isn't a completo. So the last night in Salta I was by myself and looking for something familiar to eat after I had eaten new things all week. I went to a restaurant and saw they had a sandwhich called lomito completo, which in Chile would be a steak sandwich with mayonnaise, sauerkraut, tomatoes and salsa americana (kind of like relish). I was about to order it, when I asked the waiter what completo meant, just in case. Completo, in Argentina, means with ham, cheese, egg, tomatoes and maybe something else that I'm forgetting.

8. The accent is hard to understand, but funny to imitate. Chileans love to imitate the Argentine accent. The ll, which in Chile is pronounced kind of like y in English, is pronounced kind of like a sh in Argentina. So take the word parrilla (which means a barbecue) is pronounced parr-EE-ya in Chile, but in Argentina it's parr-EE-sha. The y is also pronounced like this. I spoke the best Spanish in our group (most Peace Corps volunteers in Paraguay speak Guaraní, not Spanish), but I still had to ask a lot of people to repeat themselves and constantly remind myself about the different pronunciation. Also, to make things even MORE complicated, Argentinians use vos instead of tu and conjugate the verb differently. Instead of ¿tienes sencillo? (do you have small change?) they say ¿tenés sencillo? Luckily, they use this conjugation in El Salvador as well, and so I am kind of used to it.

For anyone who's spent time in Argentina, I'd love to hear your comments. Is it like this in the whole country? Am I way off my rocker? Let me know!

So much to blog about, so little time

2010-09-24T17:09:00.004-04:00

I am, indeed, alive, despite the evidence to the contrary given my recent blogging habits.

The next week and a half are going to be quite crazy for me for many reasons, so blogging will probably be light, but here's what you have (eventually) to look forward to:

Recap of my vacation to Northern Argentina, with more pictures like this one.

Some observations about Argentina (yes, their accents really are as funny as Chileans make them out to be!)

Big news!!!

So anyway, faithful readers (all two of you...haha) have patience and I'll be back soon.

Happy 18!!

2010-09-14T17:00:00.006-04:00

Last 18 de septiembre, at Semana de la Chilenidad in La Reina
Photo by Mandi Woodruff

I know it's only the 14th, but I'll be away from the Internet for about a week, so I just want to say:

Felices Fiestas Patrias!!!

Chile, I'm glad you exist. If not, I wouldn't have a home. Here's to 200 more years.

Full report on my vacations to follow.

Have a great week everyone!

Not Ghostbusters...

2010-09-12T17:43:00.005-04:00

Who you gonna call??

...when you lock your keys inside your apartment on a Sunday afternoon?

Why, your ex-boyfriend's father, of course.

I'm actually surprised this hasn't happened before. I am notoriously scatter brained and I get distracted really easily. Luckily, I know this about myself so I keep my keys on a hook right by my door so they are the last thing I see (and grab) right before I leave. Also, there are no less than four people here in Santiago who have copies of my keys, just in case. Unfortunately, as I left to get the rest of my laundry out of the dryer this afternoon, I was a bit distracted thinking about my upcoming vacation to Argentina, and only grabbed the laundry room key and left my apartment keys dangling on the hook.

As soon as I shut the door I realized my mistake and let go a few choice expletives in Spanish and English, just for good measure. Then I realized that also left inside, less than a meter away from where I was standing in the hallway, but oh so out of reach, was my cell phone.

How was I supposed to call any of these four people without my cell phone?

I went down and asked my conserje (door man) to borrow the phone. Never mind that I couldn't remember my friends' cell phone numbers, the phone in the lobby can't make calls to cell phones (rates in Chile between landlines and cell phones is steep, so some phones don't even have the feature enabled). Luckily, from the far recesses of my memory, I remembered F.'s home phone number and luckily he is one of the four people with a copy of my keys.

So, I called F.'s house. No answer. I called again. No answer. I started to panic a bit and asked the conserje if he knew a locksmith. No, he didn't. God dammnit. Then I tried again. No answer. Tried again. FINALLY, F.'s dad answered. I explained the situation to him, he called F. and found my keys and because he is SUCH a great person, came and dropped them off.

Luckily, F. is much more than an ex-boyfriend. He's one of my very closest friends and his family is pretty awesome, and luckily they feel the same way about me as I do about them. Honestly, I'm not sure what I'd do without them! They let me stay with them the night after the earthquake and all around have been very kind and helpful to me.

So, I think I've learned a few lessons today. One is, of course, to grab my keys when I leave my apartment. Duh. The second is to memorize some more phone numbers, namely those of the people who have my keys!

New personal rule

2010-09-10T22:47:00.005-04:00

I've had some pretty unfortunate customer service experiences this week, and I need to share. They weren't bad in so much that the service was horrible (well, it wasn't stellar, but average) but bad in the fact that it was SO INEFFICIENT.

First, I was at Correos Chile (the Post Office). I was coming back from a class and really looking forward to going home for an hour before heading out to my evening class. I had to mail something for my boss and I looked in to see that there was only one person waiting in line. Score! I thought and headed in. There were two people at the cash registers helping people. One woman was at a cash register that was closed, counting money. There was a man (maybe a manager?) running in and out of an office in the back. There was a security guard. So the man in front of me moved to the next available cash register. He had three envelopes to mail. I don't know why, but the guy processed each envelope individually, and each individual transaction took about five minutes. The other woman, who was supposedly open for service, was helping a man who was standing there (without mail) holding a 10.000 peso bill. The woman was on the phone and kept typing things into her computer. She looked very stressed. As I waited, more people entered. Soon, there were ten people waiting in line. Fifteen minutes had passed and the man in front of me being helped WAS STILL THERE. And to make matters worse, he tried to pay for the last transaction with a 20.000 peso bill and the cashier had no change, so he had to go look for some. I seriously wanted to pull my hair out. And what bothers me the most is that NO ONE COMPLAINS. The manager guy, who was running around doing God knows what, didn't assess the situation and say, hey! maybe the lady who is counting change should instead be ASSISTING CUSTOMERS. Nope. Nothing. Just silent waiting. When I finally got up to the counter my transaction took all of TWO SECONDS, so luckily I was out of there after only about twenty minutes (and remember: I was the second person in line!)

Next, I was at Unimarc today getting lunch from their salad bar. I took a number that was 6 away from the current number. Not so bad. Then, I realized there was only one person helping the salad bar people. There were three other women in the "Menu" line (which was empty) but they were just lounging around waiting for people to get into the "Menu" line, I guess. Then, to make matters worse, the woman with the number right in front of me hadn't decided what she wanted and proceeded to ask about the ingredients of every item in the salad bar.

I finally got my food and went to the checkout line. I don't know how, but I always pick the slowest line. I finally realized it was because an old lady was questioning EVERY single item that the cashier scanned. She called the manager over not once, not twice, but THREE times to ask about the price of lettuce, chorizos and margarine, respectively. Her problem was that she's not part of Club Unimarc and therefore wasn't receiving the discounted price and was complaining about that. Get with the program, lady. All the cool kids are in Club Unimarc. The only good thing about this experience was that the old man in front of me got PISSED and started yelling "Ya pues!" at the lady, so at least there was no resigned waiting in silence. I honestly wanted to hug that old man.

My last experience has to do with waiting and also just a down right rude person. I have to go to the photocopier at a certain facultad of the University of Chile to make photocopies quite frequently. There is one girl who works there who rivals Veronica Soto for the rudest chilena I've ever met. There are many examples, but I'll just stick with today's experience. I went to drop off quite a large order of photocopies at around 9:00 this morning. I was really happy when I walked in because rude girl wasn't there. I left them with a guy and told him I'd be back in a couple of hours to get them. I came back around 12:00 and the guy who I'd left them was wasn't there, but rude girl and another guy were. I asked for my photocopies. They looked at me like I had two heads.

"This morning I left some expense reports to be copied and now I'd like to pick them up." I explained.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" the rude girl said, "You didn't leave anything."

"Excuse me" I said, "But you weren't here when I dropped them off. I think I can remember my own actions. Besides, why would I lie about something like this?"

I mean, how ridiculous. Why would I LIE and say I dropped off something I hadn't? And to top it all off, when they actually looked for my photocopies (after I insisted they do so), they weren't ready. I had given them THREE HOURS. Sheesh.

So anyway, the point of all this is that I've made a new rule for myself. I will only submit myself to one potentially frustrating customer service experience per day. That means, that if at all possible, if I have to go to the photocopier, I won't also go to ServiPag or the post office or the Unimarc Salad bar or the Bank or Extranjeria later that same day. I think this will be good for my sanity, my mental health and my blood pressure.

Fashion Emergency

2010-09-06T21:33:00.002-04:00

If you've spent any time in Santiago, it's not hard to observe that Santiaguinos tend to wear very somber colors: black, brown, gray, navy blue, tan, sometimes cream or off-white. If there is any color in the outfit, it's usually a small detail, maybe a scarf or a pattern on a sweater.

I, on the other hand, like to wear colors. Pink, red, bright blue, purple. Today in particular I wore an orange-ish dress. I stood out. The men were going crazy, making comments about my dress and how it showed off various parts of my body. Sometimes I wish they would decide whether I'm their hot daughter or hot mother (although I think both are disgusting and quite incestuous).

But anyway, my students didn't show up for their class, so after waiting for a half an hour, I left and walked one block to the metro. I swiped by Bip! card and was walking along the platform at the Los Heroes metro station, until I found a good spot where there wasn't a huge crowd waiting.

All of a sudden, a woman came rushing up to me. I didn't know what was about to happen, so I grabbed my backpack and hugged it close to me. She grabbed my skirt and pulled it down, saying "You've been going around with your skirt up in the back!" Then as quickly as she appeared, she disappeared, before I could say as much as thanks.

I suppose that in my rush to leave the empty classroom, my skirt got caught on my backpack or jacket. I imagine that I walked the block to the metro with it up too. President Piñera was giving a Bicentennial toast less than a block from where my class is, so I'm sure I gave the secret service officers a nice view as I walked away.

Oh well, as Margaret pointed out to me on twitter, at least I wasn't the only one having dress issues today.

You Too

2010-09-05T20:26:00.004-04:00

My favorite band, hands down, is U2, followed closely by Coldplay. A lot of people probably judge me for this, saying they are too mainstream, commercial, blah blah blah. I'm over it. I think musical taste is a personal thing, and one shouldn't judge people based on music tastes. In fact, one of my least favorite questions to answer is "What kind of music do you like?" because yes, I can name U2 and Coldplay as my favorite bands, but after that, the truth is that I like a lot of different genres. My iTunes has everything from Rihanna to The Smiths to Ben Harper to ABBA to the Chicago Soundtrack to Guns N Roses to Julieta Venegas to Gym Class Heroes to Silvio Rodriguez. I guess I could say the types of music that don't particularly appeal to me are Heavy Metal, Electronic/Techno and Country. Except sometimes I like country, it depends on my mood.

So anyway, the point is that I'm super excited because U2 is supposedly coming to Chile in March with their 360 tour and I REALLY want to see them because I've never seen them live. I obsessively check their website to see if they've posted a fixed date and/or ticket information almost every day. So far, nothing.

I really hope they come. If not, I guess I'll have to make a trip home and go see them in Montreal in July.

This is my favorite song from their newest album, No Line on the Horizon. The song is called I'll Go Crazy if I Don't Go Crazy Tonight. I really like the video, too.

Sleep Anxiety

2010-09-02T22:10:00.004-04:00

The past few nights have been rough. I have a cold, which makes sleeping difficult. I hate breathing through my mouth because then I cough and/or get dry mouth, and I physically can not breath through my nose. It's a problem.

In addition, on Monday night I took some fanschy-schmancy cough syrup prescribed to me by the Doc. He pitched it to me like some sort of miracle drug (makes me wonder now if he's getting a kick back from the drug company...). So I took it right before bed because he told me it would knock me out and give me a good night sleep. So I waited. And waited. And waited. Meanwhile, my thoughts were racing. I wrote a few blog posts in my head (including the bagel one). I made to-do lists. I thought of chapters of my life story (which someday I will write). I couldn't shut my mind off. Thinking that maybe a half an hour had gone by since I shut off the light, I checked my watch. I had been unsuccessfully trying to fall asleep for TWO HOURS.

The whole night was like that. I didn't sleep AT ALL. Turns out the cough syrup (called Flemex, por si aca) has codeine in it. Apparently, Abby and codeine don't mix.

The next day I got up at 6:30 because I wasn't sleeping anyway. I thought I would crash at some point during the day, but I didn't feel tired until around 8:00pm. I wanted to be super tired before falling asleep, though, so I waited until around 10:00pm to fall asleep. And I took a NyQuil which always knocks me out.

I slept a little that night, but it wasn't a deep, good sleep. I woke up twice to go to the bathroom, and had a strange dream where I thought there was a plastic bag in my bed so in the middle of the night I stripped my blankets off in search of it...

Yesterday I was TIRED. All day long. And my cold, instead of getting better, was getting worse. Despite drinking tons of Emergen-C, taking propóleo and drinking approximately twice my weight in water, I could literally feel my sinuses getting more and more congested.

I took a nap yesterday afternoon, which meant that last night? Yeah, you're right. Bad night's sleep again. Although this time I know it was partially because I had sleep anxiety. After two nights of bad sleep, my inner monologue went something like this: Abby you have to sleep. Go to sleep now and you'll get 8.5 hours of sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep is amazing. Okay, go to sleep now and you'll get 8 hours. 8 hours is good. Well, now 7.5 that's not so bad. Now it's only 7! GO TO SLEEP NOW ABBY!!!

I eventually did fall asleep, only to be rudely awaken a few hours later by an EXTREMELY dry mouth (thank you, congested nasal passages). Then, to fall back asleep I basically repeated the above monologue, except with much lower numbers.

Needless to say, today, my first day back from my licencia médica, was rough. I was crabby. I wasn't super productive at work and I was short with my teenage students (two of which were new today...oops! sorry guys). In my adult class, a student offered me some peanuts and I was like "NO I HATE PEANUTS" (that's not even true) but it's just what came out of my sleep-deprived brain.

I need to sleep tonight. But I'm fighting to stay awake a little longer so I'm good and tired by the time I hit the sheets.

Why Chileans should love bagels...

2010-08-31T15:59:00.003-04:00

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

2010-08-30T20:37:00.003-04:00

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

2010-08-29T15:46:00.003-04:00

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?

2010-08-25T22:39:00.004-04:00

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

2010-08-22T14:59:00.005-04:00

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

2010-08-20T16:43:00.003-04:00

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?

2010-08-16T21:45:00.004-04:00

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

2010-08-11T16:02:00.001-04:00

Customer Service Contrast, Part I

2010-08-10T20:16:00.001-04:00

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

2010-08-08T11:36:00.004-04:00

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?

2010-08-07T15:29:00.009-04:00

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

2010-08-03T22:50:00.004-04:00

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.

He's cute AND domestic

2010-07-30T21:00:00.007-04:00

Who doesn't like a guy who helps out around the house?

He helps with the laundry...

He helps make the bed...

He helps me pack...

He helps take clean the bunny's cage (he gets the hard to reach places)...

He even helps take care of the bunny...

And last but not least, he cleans the tub (although maybe he should use more water pressure, and focus more on cleaning than on drinking the water...).

Thanks, Charlie!

FRUSTRATION

2010-07-29T18:32:00.005-04:00

I think I have a lot of pet peeves. I try not to manifest or complain about them a lot, because usually they have to do with the way other people act and how that differs from they way I think they should act. I don't want to come off as a Judgy McJudgerson because, guess what?, judgmental people are one of my pet peeves. It's a paradox that I have to live with.

Anyway, I reserve the right to complain on this blog, so I'd just like to share a few of my main pet peeves that I happened to experience today.

File this one under: Things That Don't Make Sense

A little background. Here in Chile, when you want to cash a check, you can go to any bank that issued that check, and with the proper ID, they give you cash. In the case of having a check from Banco de Chile, BCI or Banco Security (and maybe a couple others I'm forgetting) you can cash them at ServiPag, which is a place you can go and pay all of your bills. Instead of trapising around Santiago and going to the electricity company, phone company, cable company, etc., you can just go to ServiPag.

Anyway, so the issue here is the definition of proper ID. In the past, B.C. (Before Carné, the Chilean ID card) I used to go to Banco Santander, and with my passport, cash my checks from the Institute. Then I got my carné, and did the same thing, but with my carné. Then I got direct deposit and a bank account and my life got way easier. However, I still have private students that pay me with checks, but I occasionally have to cash a check, usually at ServiPag, using my carné. In May, my carné expired. I still cashed checks after that. One time I used my passport. One time I used my expired carné. However, my visa is finally ready and therefor now I can renew my carné. Today I went and did the trifecta: got my visa, registered it, and went to renew my carné, all in one day, which is quite a feat. However, your carné takes about two weeks to be ready. In the meantime they give you a peice of paper, called a comprobante, which (according to the Registro Civil) serves as your carné for the two weeks you are waiting.

So today I went to cash a check at ServiPag. I had three forms of ID: my old, expired carné, my passport and my comprobante. I asked the lady which form of ID she preferred. She promptly told me that none of them worked. This doesn't make sense, because:
1. I've cashed checks before, both with my passport and expired carné, though maybe the time I used my expired carné the person didn't notice it was expired. And...
2. How is anyone supposed to be able to cash checks if their carné isn't ready yet?? I asked the woman. She said it was impossible, unless the check is "left open". (This is another crazy thing about checks in Chile. Unless you cross out the words "o al portador" or draw some sort of fancy lines on the check, it's basically like writing a blank check).

I tried to explain to her how all of this doesn't make any sense. I'm sure a lot of Chileans can't afford to go two weeks without cashing a check, but I realized it wasn't her fault that this silly rule exists (if it even does, I'm half convinced she was mistaken). In the end, she cashed the check, but in her name instead of mine. I got the money. However, in the process, she committed the second carinal sin in the Bible of Abby.

Acá in Chile...

"Here in Chile," the ServiPag lady told me, "We use our passports to travel, not to cash checks."

GAHHHH! There is nothing I hate more than being treated like I'm a tourist, or like I don't know how things work. Granted, there are times I don't know how things work, and I'm actually very self-concious about this. I like to know the system. And due to my powers of observation, I actually can figure things out pretty quickly.

But this ServiPag lady was out to get me. First, the not making sense, then the telling me how things are. I mean seriously, did she think I didn't know that we use passports to travel? DUH.

Which leads into point number three...

Trying to cheat the system

I understand that there are people who honestly don't know how something works. For example, getting a visa or doing some other sort of errand at Extranjeria can be quite confusing at times. However, there are pretty clear instructions prominently posted. For example, on the third floor, it says that everyone must have a passport. If you don't have a passport in your hand, they won't give you a number. In addition to the posted signs, there was even a man telling us that this morning. Yet, despite this, the guy in front of me presented his carné and proceeded to argue with the man giving out numbers when he refused to give him one.

Then, after you get a number, you go and wait for your number to be called. Taking a number happens a lot in Chile, from Extranjeria to the pharmacy. However, in the time I was waiting (which wasn't long, I was number 9), THREE people marched up to the desk WAY before their numbers were called.

Then, speaking of pharmacies, I went to a pharmacy this afternoon to buy some hand cream. At the pharmacies, you can only pick out certain items yourself, namly non-medical items such as shampoo, toothpaste or hand cream. If you need Tylenol or ibuprophen or a prescription, you have to take a number and ask the pharmacist for it. When you go to pay for your hand cream, or other purchases that you picked out yourself, you also have to take a number to pay. Today, I had 89. They were on 86. So I waited patiently until they got to 89. Just as I was about to walk up to the counter, an old lady barges ahead of me and goes, "I have 90! I have number 90!" I calmly said, "Excuse me, ma'am, but I have 89." But she didn't budge. I told the pharmacist I had 89. The pharmacist politely asked her to move out of the way. She repeated "But I have 90!"

Then I ripped my hair out and banged my head against the nearest display case.

Well, not really. Finally she moved when the other pharmacist called her number.

Then, I swear, not five minutes later, I went to Castaño, where you don't have to take a number, but you do have to wait in line to pay for your items. I was paying when another old lady came into the store and marched right up to the cash register where the cashier was getting me my change. "I want two boxes of sopaipillas," the woman announced, and planted herself firmly in front of me, practically on top of my purchases. "I'll be right with you, ma'am," the cashier told her as she finished getting my change. Then the woman sighed and started tapping the box of sopaipillas against the counter. And when I said "permiso" to try to squeeze by her, she moved approximately 1/2 centimeter.

Anyway, I probably should just chill out and not let these things bother me so much. However, when they happen one after the other all day long, it's hard for me to ignore.

Little Boxes

2010-07-25T12:51:00.003-04:00

I love the show "Weeds". I first started watching it a long time ago when it first premiered at a friend's house. But because I didn't have Showtime at my house and this was before I knew how to download things from the internet, I didn't watch more than the first three episodes. Anyway, so I recently started watching again. The opening song for the first three seasons is Little Boxes by Malvina Reynolds. During seasons 2 and 3 a different artist or band sings the song for every episode.

When our family first got a computer circa 1996, in addition to coming in a cow-spotted box (do Gateway computers still exist?), it came with a CD-ROM called "Music 1997" or something like that. It was this program where you could watch music videos and listen to music from the entire century, in addition to read about different artists and bands. I loved it. One of the music videos was this:

Anyway, ever since 1996, I've loved this song. It's such a simple little song with such a powerful message.

So I posted some lyrics from the song on Facebook the other day and Leigh posted this video, which is a Chilean version sung by Victor Jara.

Here are the lyrics:

Las casitas del barrio alto (The little houses of the rich neighborhood)
con rejas y antejardín, (With fences and front gardens)
una preciosa entrada de autos (A beautiful driveway)
esperando un Peugeot. (Waiting for a Peugeot)

Hay rosadas, verdecitas, (There are pink ones, little green ones)
blanquitas y celestitas, (little white ones and little light blue ones)
las casitas del barrio alto (the houses of the rich neighborhood)
todas hechas con recipol. (are all made with recipol)

Y las gentes de las casitas (And the people in the houses)
se sonríen y se visitan. (Smile and visit each other)
Van juntitos al supermarket (They go together to the supermarket)
y todos tienen un televisor. (And they all have a TV)

Hay dentistas, comerciantes, (There are dentists, businessmen)
latifundistas y traficantes, (Landowners and traffickers)
abogados y rentistas (lawyers and bondholders)
y todos visten polycron. (and they all dress with polycron)

Juegan bridge, toman martini-dry (They play bridge, drink martinis dry)
y los niños son rubiecitos (And their kids are blond)
y con otros rubiecitos (And with other little blond kids)
van juntitos al colegio high. (Go together to the high school)

Y el hijito de su papi (And daddy's little boy)
luego va a la universidad (then goes to the university)
comenzando su problemática (starting problems)
y la intríngulis social. (and social trickiness)

Fuma pitillos en Austin mini, (He smokes joints in his Austin mini)
juega con bombas y con política, (Plays with bombs and politics)
asesina generales, (He assassinates generals)
y es un gángster de la sedición. (and is a gangster of the sedition)

The song has to be understood in the context of the mid-late 1960s in Chile, hence the line "everyone has TVs," which seems silly now because literally EVERYONE does have TV in Chile now, not just the "barrio alto". I think it would be fun to re-write the lyrics for modern day Chile. I'm no poet, but I did think of a couple of verses (in English, but talking about Chile):

The apartments of Providencia
Las Condes and Vitacura
With conserje 24 hours a day
Sala de eventos and a swimming pool

And the people in the apartments
All went to La Catolica
Or La Chile or Diego Portales
And if stupid to Santo Tomas

There's a doctor and a lawyer,
commercial engineers,
an industrial engineer, a bio engineer
and a chemical engineer

Haha. I crack myself up.

By the way, I hope no one gets offended! For the record, I live in an apartment in Providencia with a conserje 24 hours a day and studied for a semester at La Catolica, so really I'm making fun of myself.

Happy Birthday Chi-Wi!!

2010-07-24T00:00:00.000-04:00

If you were to ask me who I want to be when I grow up, I'd probably say: my sister. She's got it together in so many ways that I wish I did. She knew exactly what she wanted to be when she entered college, got a degree in that field, and now, come August, will start working at exactly that. She just rented an awesome apartment with her boyfriend (who is also really cool). She's kind, generous, funny and gives the best hugs. Her laugh is contagious. She's an artist, an athlete and a great friend.

And, today is her 22nd birthday!

Happy Birthday, Cha. I love you so much and am so proud of you!

Can you tell I'm stressed?

2010-07-19T22:17:00.003-04:00

Despite just having a three day weekend, I'm crazy with work. In anticipation of this week, my self-conscious was at work last night telling me ALL about it. I had five or six dreams, all of which featured one or more of my past or current pets (even the bunny made an appearance) and in every dream, I was forgetting something super important about this pet. In one dream, I forgot to feed my horse Nutmeg. In another, I forgot that I had locked the bunny in the bathroom, and taken the key with me to visit my parents, so no one could open the door to feed him. Then I had two versions of the same dream. In both I was going to visit my parents (who happened to live only two hours away by car, miracle!). In the first one, I forgot to bring Charlie with me. In the second one, I brought him with me, but left him in the car. Then I had a dream that I was on the farm, and Ruby was in a parked pickup truck. I went to say hi to her through the window and the pickup truck started moving and rolled and crashed into a fence. I forgot to open the door to let her out, but I don't think she was hurt.

Okay, and here's the weirdest one. In one dream I FORGOT I HAD GIVEN BIRTH TO A CHILD. Yes, that's right. I had a kid, then forgot. Again, I was going to visit my parents (another reoccurring theme last night) and in the middle of driving there, I remembered that I had forgotten my baby. No, not just had forgotten to bring him/her along (well, that too), but had forgotten I had even given birth. It was so bizarre.

Needless to say I've been super careful all day that I haven't forgotten anything.

Datos

2010-07-15T20:04:00.003-04:00

Something I've noticed about Chileans is how they looooooove their datos. Literally, data, or information, un dato is basically a referal. For example, if you need to go to the dentist, you can ask someone if they have a dato about a good dentist. This goes for anything, literally. From where to get a good cup of coffee to what colegio to send your kids too. If you don't believe me, you should come listen to the teacher's lounge at the Institute some night around 6:30pm, right before evening classes start. Datos fly through the room, from where to buy cute baby clothes to good websites to use for class.

Yesterday my new boss and I ordered sushi. Of course we asked L., who works in the office across the hall, for the menu of the sushi place she had ordered from yesterday. No way could we order from just any sushi place, we had to have a dato first. It was a good dato, I have to admit!

It would be interesting to do some sort of market study (I'm looking at you, Andrea) to see how much business is generated through the passing of datos versus advertising. I have a hunch that it might take awhile for businesses to get established here, because no one knows about them. It takes a few brave souls to venture in and vouch for the establishment before other people will check it out. Maybe (and I'm just guessing here) that is why foreign companies that have changed the names of businesses, like Home Depot, haven't succeeded because not enough people ventured in and vouched for them. Whereas everyone knows WalMart owns part of Lider, but I doubt Lider has suffered because of that.

Anyway, living here for as long as I have, I've totally jumped on the dato bandwagon. I love giving and recieving datos. Luckily, I'm also pretty adventurous so I like to check out new things and then start giving out the dato, like to a cute little café that I went to near the Starbucks on Ricardo Lyon (behind Paris) that has delicious lattes. A fellow teacher, who happens to be Chilean, is going on vacation to Montreál, and I happily gave her a few datos about things to do while she was there. She was tickled pink and eagerly wrote them all down. Another teacher, who is not Chilean, asked her why she was writing them down when she could easily look up things to do on the internet. She replied that it's better to do things that people know are good and fun, versus trusting a stranger's opinion.

So, got any good datos to share?

Phone Phobia

2010-07-13T19:56:00.003-04:00

As part of my new job I occasionally have to make phone calls. I hate making phone calls. I always have. I think it all started when I was in second grade. For the first time, my mom made me call my friend to set up my play date. I dialed the wrong number, and instead of getting my friend's house, I got the local grocery store. I was so horrified that I just hung up the phone and didn't say anything.

I remember my parents used to make me call people just because I hated doing it, and they thought I would get over my fear by practicing. Calling my friends or family wasn't so bad, but calling people to ask for something was what I specifically hated. When I got Nutmeg, my horse, I had to call the vet and the blacksmith and the horse dentist (little known fact: horses' teeth have to be filed down about once a year because they wear down unevenly). I HATED calling these people, especially the blacksmith. It's funny, because I knew the blacksmith personally. He was my softball coach. He coached my sister's AAU basketball team. Nevertheless, I dreaded calling him, and hate to admit that I often let my horses' hooves get really long before I called him to come trim them.

So anyway, my hatred of calling people has diminished a bit as I've gotten older, but I still prefer email, especially when I have to deal in Spanish. I write better than I speak, and read better than I understand.

But alas, I have to call people now for my job. Today I had to call a Chilean organization to find out one of their employee's job description, because my boss needed to write him a letter. I first searched their website, but found nothing. Then I called their call center, and the woman gave me the number for their central offices. I called the central offices, and asked my question. The lady connected me someone else. I asked my question again. This lady connected me to another number that rang for about 3 minutes until it disconnected. So I tried again, and explained what happened. They connected me to the same people and the same phone line that led to no one. I did a different Google search and found another number for the employee in question. I decided to call him directly. The number didn't work.

I felt really bad because I wasn't able to finish the task that my boss asked me to do, because it was time to leave. I suppose I'll try calling again tomorrow.

How to Survive a Santiago Winter: 10 Useful Tips

2010-07-11T18:44:00.006-04:00

Today is rainy and gray, the perfect day to talk about how to survive a Chilean winter.

1. Layers, layers, layers. Inside and outside I wear silk long johns and pants, a camista*, shirt and sweater. When I go outside, depending on the temperature (sometimes it doesn't vary much between the two) I'll add a winter jacket, scarf and hat. Also, thick socks that go up past your ankles are a godsend. Or, high boots that don't let the breeze in around your feet.

2. Hot beverages. Thanks to Eileen, I have a nice thermos that I carry around with me, filled with either herbal tea or hot chocolate. It's amazing. It keeps my beverage piping hot for hours, and normal hot all day long. Once I forgot it until the next day (I'm talking more than 24 hours since I had filled it) and the tea was still warm! Also, hot water boilers that are ever so popular here in Chile make boiling water a breeze.

3. Baking. I have a small enough apartment that turning on the oven heats practically the whole apartment. Since its silly to turn on the oven without making something, I tend to bake a lot during the winter. Yesterday I made macaroni and cheese and chocolate cupcakes. Yum!

4. Close the curtains, shut the doors. Try to trap what little heat their is in one part of your house by shutting doors. Also, I find shutting the curtains cozies things up and gets rid of unwanted drafts.

5. Adopt a street cat. There's nothing cozier than a sleeping kitty on your lap or cuddled near your feet at night.

6. Guatero or Scaldasonno. If you're allergic to cats, may I suggest a guatero (hot water bottle) or a scaldasonno (heated mattress pad)? There's nothing like getting into cold sheets. Just remember to shut off the scaldasonno before going to sleep!

7. Space heaters. My apartment technically has heat, but it's SUPER expensive. So, I have a space heater. It heats up a room pretty fast if I close all the doors. I use it sparingly since electricity is also expensive, but it saves me on the super frigid days.

8. Fingerless gloves. If you spend all day typing, these are nice to have.

9. You can stand under my umbrella... Except not. Haha. Buy your own outside any metro station when it's raining. It rains frequently during the winter, and an umbrella (paraguas) is indispensable. Yes, raincoats are nice, but I find an umbrella keeps me dryer. Also, tall boots are nice on rainy days so your pants don't get wet. OH! And stand back from the curb. Like, way back. Drivers are crazy in the rain and I swear that some of them TRY to soak pedestrians. Beware of this, because there's nothing worse than getting soaked by a disgusting puddle.

10. Down Comforters. I find that with my down comforter, I don't have to have 5000 blankets on my bed. I have a sheet, fleece blanket, down comforter and quilt. My bed is very cozy. The only drawback is that I rarely want to get out of bed in the morning...

I hope these tips help any newcomers to the Santiago winter! Stay warm.

*What's a camista, you may ask? I believe Eileen coined the phrase: panty-hose for your arms! They are shirts made of nylon or microfiber that go under your clothes. They are quite tight fitting, and I find they're better than long underwear shirts that often get stretched out and bunchy. You can buy them at places like Caffarena or Monarch.

Winter here vs Winter there

2010-07-09T09:56:00.001-04:00

Winter is upon us here in the southern hemisphere. In Santiago, the Andes are snow-capped and look quite stunning when you can see them through the smog.

When people here from Vermont, they automatically make a comment about how cold it is there, and how much snow we get. They then inevitably say something about how I must be used to the cold because in Vermont it's so much worse.

Therefore, I've been analyzing whether that's really true. Overall, I'd say no. Don't get me wrong. Winter is rough in Vermont. In bad years, winter starts in October and ends at the end of April. Yes, six months of winter. It snows, and quite a lot. We have ice storms. Driving gets very tricky and even dangerous.

Some memories I have of being really cold include waiting for the bus in the winter (with wet hair, which then froze into icicles, and no, I didn't get pneumonia). Also, throughout my early teenage years I worked in the calf barn. Cows are creatures of habit, and therefore must be fed (and milked) at the same time every day. Every other weekend, I fed the calves. Their morning feeding was at 6:00am, so I had to wake up around 5:30am. In the winter, this was torture. The worst part was the fact I had to deal with milk, which is wet, making it hard to wear gloves.

I'm not exactly sure what month this was taken in, but I imagine either fall or spring because although I'm wearing a really attractive flannel quilted shirt (super warm!), I'm not wearing a hat or scarf, so it must not have been in the middle of winter.

But, despite having some memories of being extremely cold, the good thing about winter in Vermont (and other northerly places of the US) is central heating! So yes, you get really cold outside. It might be so cold that you can't breathe, but as soon as you go indoors, it's toasty warm. Also, winter can be fun in Vermont. Sledding, skating, skiing (if that's your thing), snowshoeing, etc. The snow, although cold, provides hours of entertainment.

In Santiago, on the other hand, the weather is much milder. The coldest I've seen it is around -2 degrees Celsius (about 28 degrees Fahrenheit). It barely snows, although it does rain. Winter lasts, at most, four months. Also, there's the veranito de San Juan (Saint John's little summer) which happens at the end of June/beginning of July which provides 4-5 days of warm weather. This year, it happened last week and temperatures got up to 22 degrees C (72 F).

However, the coldness that does occur is quite damp. It chills you to the bone. Then, you go home and you're so excited to be warm again....

Buy, no. Not likely. The vast majority of buildings in Chile do not have central heating. Chileans heat with estufas, either gas or electric. There are days when it's colder inside than it's outside.

Also, my life style here means that I'm outside a lot more. I don't have a car, so I take public transportation. The metro can be quite warm (body heat, yummm!), but micros often have faulty windows that don't close, and when it rains the seats get wet. Also, I walk a lot.

And because I don't ski and don't have a lot of money, there's no snow for me to play in.

All in all, during the three winters I've spent here in Santiago, I overall have more negative feelings about winter here than winter there, although I have to admit I'm a warm weather girl, so really, winter anywhere gets me down.

Coming soon: How to Survive a Winter in Santiago!

New Job Craziness

2010-07-08T19:11:00.004-04:00

I love my new job so far. It has taken some adjustments, however.

My days are long. I leave my house at 9:00am, can sometimes return for an hour or so at lunch, then I'm out the door again until at least 9:00pm teaching private classes and classes at the Institute. That means by the time I get home, I don't have much energy for blogging. Luckily, one of my "classes" at the Institute is a substitute position, meaning sometimes I don't have to sub (like today) and I can get caught up on important things like blogging.

One of the biggest benefits of my job so far has been the fact that I speak Spanish all morning. Teaching English in Chile sometimes means that you spend too much time speaking English (professional hazzard) and then your Chilean friends tell you that your Spanish is suffering. However, I think this solid four hours a day of speaking only Spanish is really going to help me continue to improve my language skills.

Also, I get to write. I love writing. And I get to help people. I love helping people.

All in all, life is busy, but good. I'm sorry if posts are light for the next few weeks as I get used to my new schedule.

ETA: I know I said posting would be light then posted two things right in a row. The post on winter was one I'd been working on previously and just had to add the pictures and a few more things. So, enjoy!

Sneaky Hate Spiral

2010-07-04T11:59:00.008-04:00

A few days ago, Emily posted a link to this wonderful blog, Hyperbole and a Half, which I have spent the whole morning reading. It's hilarious, and I feel like I can relate to a lot of the posts. One of them that really resonated with me was this one, entitled "Sneaky Hate Spiral". Go read it, then come back. Like Emily said, if you don't come back, at least you've gone on to bigger and better blog reading.

So the Sneaky Hate Spiral. What a great way to put it. I remember one of the very first times this happened to me. I must have been really little, maybe four or five, because I still struggled with simple tasks like getting dressed. I don't remember the build-up, but I do remember the turning point. I was trying to put on a sock. When you're little, this is hard. The sock kept getting stuck on one of my toes, and when I finally got it on, it was on backwards. The little heel indent was on the top of my foot. In a murderous rage, I started screaming and clawing at my foot, trying to get the darn sock off. I finally did, and threw it across the room. I can't remember if my mom was already in the room or she came in right then, and I totally blamed it on her for buying me defective socks.

Now, the most recent Sneaky Hate Spiral. Unfortunately a side effect of living in Santiago is the propensity to cause Sneaky Hate Spirals. So, the build up. Charlie doesn't let me sleep very well sometimes. Usually, when I'm gone all day and don't have time to play with him, he thinks 3am is the perfect time to wake me up by jumping on my face. So that night, I hadn't slept very well. I woke up grumpy. As I went to leave, my door wouldn't open. This has happened very frequently since the earthquake when the door jamb shifted. Usually yanking on it with two hands does the trick. Not this time. I had to set down my bag, take off my rings and put all my weight on the door, practically hanging off of the door knob. Finally, the door burst open and I found myself sitting on my floor. Gah.

Then, I left my house and got on the metro. Have you ever noticed how people eat things here? It's different. Say for example, you have a Negrita, which is a small chocolate covered cookie (see above). I would eat a Negrita in 3-4 bites. Chomp. Chomp. Chomp. Chomp. There, done and finished. Delicious. Not so much Chileans. If Chileans eat a Negrita, it's more like nibblenibblenibblenibblenibblenibble. Pauuuuuuuuse. nibblenibblenibblenibble. Pauuuuuuuuuse. Rinse and repeat. It takes them FOREVER to eat a stupid Negrita. So anyway, standing right next to me on the metro was a nibbling Negrita-eating woman. She got halfway done her Negrita and her phone rang. She had some annoying conversation and then proceed to say "Ya, chao" approximately TWENTY FIVE TIMES! Well, I started counting after she had said it probably 10 times and I got up to 15. If you're going to say "Ya, chao" THAT MANY TIMES, why not just HANG UP? Seriously.

So anyway, I got off the metro and proceeded to have my class with the Brazilians where this happened. Then it started raining and I got soaked. I went to class in the afternoon/evening and multiple annoying things happened which I will not detail here, because it's work and I should really try not to talk about work here. I'm already treading a fine line talking about the Brazilians so much.

Then I got home and was so exhausted and frustrated that I just collapsed on the couch. F. called me just to say hi and poor thing, something he said hit me the wrong way and I started yelling and crying at him. It was a conversation that we have had thousands if not millions of times, and something we really shouldn't keep talking about, but it came up and he got the brunt of my Sneaky Hate Spiral.

I've already apologized to him in person, but F., consider this a public apology for my shitty behavior. Thanks for being a great friend and putting up with me despite everything!

A little bit hurt...

2010-07-02T21:55:00.004-04:00

I've been thinking a lot about weddings lately. No, I don't have any prospects, and for all I know I'll never get married (you know, it takes two people to do that kind of thing, and for now I'm only one). However, my host brother is getting married tomorrow and so I started thinking about who I would invite to my very hypothetical wedding.

Of course I imagined who I would invite if I got married here in Chile, then I imagined about who I would invited if I got married in the US. Then I imagined who I would invite if all of my friends and family were millionaires and could travel wherever. It's a daydream, I'm allowed to do that kind of thing.

But, back to the Chile wedding fantasy. If I got married here, I would definitely invite my host brother and his soon-to-be wife. Out of everyone in my host family, I'm probably the least close with him, but I still consider him to be family in many ways.

So here's the catch. I wasn't invited to his wedding. I went to my host sister's wedding when I wasn't even living here. I was here visiting for January of my senior year of college, and she happened to be getting married then, and she invited me and I went. She even sent me an invitation in the U.S. For this reason, and because I've been told by my host parents and especially host mom that they consider me family, I thought I'd be invited to his wedding. Also, I thought I'd be invited because his fiance sent me her codigo de novias, which is a code you can give at the major department stores here so that the couple gets points towards a hotel stay.* I even used the codiga de novias a couple of times. Plus, here in Chile, weddings are known to be GIGANTIC. You invite everyone you've ever talked to plus their uncle. Oh, and not to mention that every time I've visited my host family in the past five months all the talk has been about the wedding. How could they talk about it in front of me and not invite me?

At first I didn't really feel bad about it, but now that the big day is tomorrow, I'm feeling kind of sad and rejected. At first I rationalized that it was maybe going to be a small wedding, so that's why. But it's not a small wedding. I'm friends with a lot of my host brother's friends who will all be going, many of whom probably assume I'll be there. In fact, I owe one of them some money and we were trying to arrange how I could pay him back. He told me I could give it to him tomorrow at the wedding. I had to tell him that I wasn't invited and it all kind of hit me.

So anyway, I'm trying really hard to not have this affect me very much. I still love my host family and I won't hold it against them, but it stings. I also don't feel comfortable bringing it up with them, so I'll never know why.

*To be completely honest, I'm not exactly sure what the etiquette on this is. Maybe in Chile it's considered acceptable to give your codigo de novias to people you aren't inviting to your wedding. However, I feel like it's similar to giving someone in the US your bridal registry then not inviting them to the wedding.

A couple of things

2010-07-02T09:01:00.000-04:00

First, and most importantly, Happy Anniversary to my lovely parents! They celebrate 27 years of marriage today. I love you both so much.

Secondly, I'm about-to-jump-out-of-my-pants happy because I have a new job! No details here, unfortunately, for obvious reasons. It's only part time, so I'll still be teaching at the Institute, but I'm excited for the possibilites this opportunity brings for my professional development. It's a career opportunity, whereas I knew teaching English was only a job. That's not to say that I didn't like teaching. I absolutely do. That's why I'm glad I'll be able to do both for now. However, I know that I can't teach English (at least here in Chile) for the rest of my life. The schedule is just too draining.

Thirdly...hmm...I'm not sure there was a thirdly. I hope you all have a wonderful weekend. Happy 4th to all of you from the US. Is anyone doing anything fun to celebrate?

I used to...

2010-07-01T11:51:00.003-04:00

Today was an "I used to..." day in one of my classes, which got me thinking about a lot of things. When I was recently in the US, I had to go through boxes of my "keepsakes" because my parents are probably going to sell the house and they (understandably) didn't want to move multiple boxes filled with my spelling tests from 1st to 6th grade. I used to be a pack rat and I saved EVERYTHING. Yes, I'm talking notebooks with notes on Greek history from 10th grade, art projects that probably no one but my mother would classify as "art", every single birthday card I've ever received (I still saved those), a Rubbermaid tub FULL of beanie babies (remember those?) and everything in between.

So anyway, going through these boxes were like a glimpse into my past. Here's my version of an exercise that I often do with my students.

I used to be good at calculus. Now, I need a calculator do figure out my students' grades.
I used to know how to improvise over a set of jazz chord changes on my saxophone. Now, if I'm lucky, I can play a few chords of the guitar.
I used to record songs I liked from the radio onto cassette tapes. Now I download music onto my iPod.
I used to write childrens' stories in Spanish. Now I speak Spanish every day.
I used to take the bus to school. Now I take the bus to work.
I used to muck out my horse's stall. Now I scoop out Charlie's litter box.
I used to be the secretary of my 4-H club. Now I'm very thankful that I'm not a secretary at my place of work.
I used to learn how to conjugate verbs in Spanish: soy, eres, es, somos, son. Now I endlessly remind students not to forget the "s" at the end of verbs in the third person singular.
I used to scrounge up enough change to put a gallon of gas into my car. Now I scrounge up enough change to buy a metro ticket.
I used to play field hockey. Now I watch soccer on TV.
I used to write in my journal. Then, I used to write in my Xanga. Then, I used to write in my Livejournal. Now, I have a blog.

Who's to blame?

2010-06-29T10:04:00.002-04:00

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...

2010-06-28T19:10:00.004-04:00

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...

2010-06-28T12:15:00.002-04:00

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

Just sayin'.

An Update from the Crazy Cat Lady

2010-06-24T14:08:00.006-04:00

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.

2010-06-23T14:31:00.004-04:00

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

2010-06-22T13:37:00.004-04:00

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!

2010-06-21T12:54:00.004-04:00

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...

2010-06-20T11:54:00.000-04:00

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

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

Brought to you by Transantiago

2010-06-19T20:30:00.001-04:00

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

2010-06-18T10:22:00.004-04:00

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

2010-06-16T21:28:00.003-04:00

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

2010-06-12T15:34:00.004-04:00

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

2010-06-09T13:09:00.002-04:00

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

2010-06-07T11:28:00.006-04:00

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

2010-06-04T10:23:00.009-04:00

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.