Jose Manuel

Jose Manuel and I spend a lot of time together just talking bilingually. Thank god for Google. Sometimes we just sit for hours side-by-side with our MacBooks googling definitions, pictures, and Wikipedia articles and occasionally going to Google Translate when we don't believe each others' pronunciation or definition. We have more vowel sounds in English than in Spanish, so sometimes I just repeat words over and over so he can learn the sounds. ("Mall, mole, mall, mole, mall mall mall, mole mole mole.")

There are a few things that we've started to notice that are really just common sense if you know both Spanish and English, but we had never really considered before. For example, the formation of questions, and the importance of context vs. verb conjugations.

In English we have more question words. We have "who?" "what?" "when?" and "where?" and they have them, too, (Quien? Que? Cuando? Donde?) but there are some instances where the difference between a question and a statement is purely intonation. In English we say, "Is the TV turned off?" or "The TV is turned off." In Spanish they say, "La tele esta apagado?" or "La tele esta apagado." If you don't have the right intonation you may end up leaving your appliances on!

In English, the conjugation of a verb isn't as important as it is in Spanish, for two reasons. The first reason is that our concepts of time (past, present, future) are more contextual. For example, if I said "Where is Niels?" and our exchange student Eric said, "He goes to the store." I would understand him just about as clearly as if Eric had said, "He went to the store." In Spanish if Maryte asked me, "Donde esta Cristobal?" and I said, "Va a la tienda." she would probably understand, but it would be a little more difficult.

The second reason is that we always use articles.

In English, our verb conjugations look like this:

I -- go

you -- go

he/she -- goes

we -- go

they -- go

Whereas in Spanish is looks more like this:

yo (I) -- voy

tu (you) -- vas

el/ella (he/she) -- va

nosotros (we) -- vamos

ellos (they) -- van

In English, you have to say who is doing the action but in Spanish you don't. This means that a mis-conjugation like, "He go to the store." isn't as big an offense as if I said, "Voy a la tienda." but am referring to Cristobal. For this reason, when Jose Manuel makes conjugation mistakes I hardly notice them, but when I mis-conjugate, JM has to correct me.

When I'm struggling to express myself in Spanish he gets this knowing smile that is somehow both friendly and reassuring, but makes me feel like I'm doing it wrong. To be fair, I use the same smile when he's speaking English. Every other sentence out of his mouth is, "Why are you smiling?"

El cantante

On my ride home from school a man boards the bus with guitar in hand. He seats himself in the back and begins playing and singing beautifully. I'm riding along with a busful of dark-haired heads, all swaying in time to the wheels of the micro. This is not where I grew up. This is not Oregon. Maybe I've become too comfortable here. I don't realize where I am. As the singer leaves the bus, I hope he knows that my lack of donation is not apathy, but rather the realization of my cultural fear.

This week

In the past week I have...

...seen a real live jackhammer! I didn't know that they exist outside of movies based in New York!

...done my taxes!

...stayed up 39 hours. I got up late on Friday, around 1 pm, and didn't go to sleep again (except for a nap on Diego's couch for like half an hour) until Saturday night at 4 am.

...gotten bangs, kind of. There was an adorable 3-year-old at Diego's house one night and she wanted to play with my hair. I let her blow-dry it even though it was dry. We got a lock caught up in the air-intake part, creating an unfixable dreadlock that had to be cut out and now is continually falling into my face.

...gotten a piercing. Kacie came over in the late afternoon on Friday and announced that we were going to the piercing store. Luckily I've been wanting one, and didn't have to decide on the spot that I wanted a vertical tragus. Don't worry, the place was really clean, and it only cost $12!

...gotten my visa! I'm finally legal!

School blog #2

A second school blog, based on the following prompt:

1. What did you assume before you left that you are not finding in your host-country,

host-culture and/or host family and friends? Why did you make those assumptions?

Chileans are always asking me this question. Marquito jokes that they live in the trees, here. Yes, but the get up by elevators, his mom adds. I have a hard time answering this question, too, mostly because I have a hard time remembering what it was that I expected. I certainly didn't expect that they lived in trees, but I think I expected a quality of life close to that of the casa de huespedes in El Salvador. A real house, maybe with a lot of open-air, and okay furniture. I think that's pretty much what we have here in Vina. I've been told that my apartment is nice and I believe it. The decorating style is much more muted than that in the USA, but I'm not missing any comforts.

I think I expected my host mom to be a little more conservative. I believe she is politically conservative, but not in all aspects of her life. She is a strong working woman and is very opinionated. I was slightly surprised that she's single, but that doesn't mean she doesn't date. She's a modern woman and very easy to get along with. I was definitely surprised that we have a woman who works for us. Many of my friends' families have nanas, too. I suppose I always considered someone who cooks and cleans for you a luxury, and maybe it is here, too, but it seems so much more normal.

I expected a little more machismo from the men. Luckily, I haven't had to deal with very much of it. Most of my Chilean friends are boys, and I've found them to be very polite and respectful, and even sensitive.

I expected the food to be a little more flavorful, more reminiscent of Mexican food, but it's not even close. There are a lot of fresh vegetables and we eat a lot of turkey, but all of it is prepared fairly simply. It's pretty easy on the stomach, and I cannot get enough of the veggies. They just seem tastier here!

One of the hardest things has been my expectations for the weather. For some reason, I thought it was going to be summer during my entire visit, but this is unfortunately not the case. Luckily, winter here isn't going to be that bad, and I don't have to write home for my puffy coat.

Santiaguito

This Friday Kacie and I flew in, exhausted, from Argentina. We rode the micro to the bus station and then parted ways- Kacie had homework waiting back in Vina, and I had plans with Marco on the other side of Santiago. Santiago is surprisingly large- 40% of the population of Chile lives there and it took me half an hour to get from one end to the other on the Subte. Marquito looked like an angel when I saw him. I missed Chile! I missed my friends!

Marquito helped me into his cousin's car and introduced me to his cousin, Tute, and his brother, Pelayo. We picked up some supplies for an asado. I spent the evening in Tute's backyard with the three boys, bantering and listening to them tease each other. Marquito drank a lot of wine and started playing Chilean songs for me and singing along. He's studying to be a chef, so the asado, which consisted of pork ribs and beef with a vegetable-shrimp topping, was superb.

Saturday morning (around 1 pm?) after my shower Marquito took me off to meet some friends and get lunch. He's pretty involved in his church, which is a sort of surprising contrast to his normal Friday-night behavior. In the parish a bunch of college-aged kids were playing music and setting up for some sort of festivity. I met the guitar player and the sax player and the singer and Marquito's best friend, Carolina, who seemed to be in charge. I haven't really spent time with Chileans on my own, without a buffer of gringos, and it was neat.

We had pizza and Carolina fixed me a fanchop - a beer with Fanta, which was surprisingly okay. Marquito and Carolina seemed to be getting into a conversation that I wouldn't understand, so I retreated to Pelayo's room for some tv. I think I fell asleep for a while, but a few hours later Marquito retrieved me for an asado at the parish. This guy is crazy about beef.

I really enjoyed being around so many young people, but Pelayo and I mostly hung back during the asado because we didn't really know anyone. The sax player (David, maybe?) kept us company for a while. A while later we all headed home for some piscolitas and I got to know a few of them a little better. Actually, they mostly grilled me and I didn't have a whole lot of time to ask questions, but you can learn about other people in that sort of conversation, too. Marquito kept calling me "la gringa," as in, "oh yeah, the gringa and I went to Con Con last weekend." Pelayo told him to knock it off because it was offensive to treat me like an object, but I think he meant it endearingly.

As we got into the conversation there are some things that stand out. Marquito is a Catholic, and I don't think he knows what Protestant means. He asked me if we believe in the saints and I said we don't celebrate them. He asked me if we believe in the Virgin and I said I don't know anything about it. He asked if we believe in Jesus and that was a little surprising. I tried to sort things out for him. The guys kept calling each other gay, and I mentioned to Pelayo, who seems a little more level-headed, that gay is a normal thing in the U.S.A. They told me they don't like gay people and I told them that it's hard for me to understand how they don't. I tried to approach it from a cultural-difference perspective, rather than a moral one; it wasn't really the right setting for that conversation.

Sunday morning was lazy until lunch with Marquito's parents. We watched a little futbol afterward until Pelayo took me to the bus station. It was a long trip home, but so relieving to get back to my own bed. It's funny how much more comfortable I feel in Chile than I did in Argentina. I could be just making it up, but Chile is starting to feel like home.

Argentina, part 2

We had a rockin' last night in Uruguay last night. Kacie hammed it up with some locals on the dancefloor at a bar near our hostel while I made some friends at the bar. We didn't sleep, but boarded a bus at 7 this morning to return to Buenos Aires.

Today we ventured into La Boca, one of the older neighborhoods in the city. We have been taking the different neighborhoods on foot, and although my legs are tired, I'm glad that we have been. Kacie walks at a very leisurely pace, and it gives us plenty of time to take everything in.

It's been interesting how much you can learn about a neighborhood by the art on the walls. In La Boca there was a lot of art dedicated to a certain teacher, and also a lot about fighting poverty. We were told by our Chilean friends that the neighborhood is a must-see, but to be careful. Walking down the street it looked like the neighborhood definitely has a drug presence, and I could see it being a big place for crime against tourists. We stopped for a chorizo sandwich and the vendor gave us some tips.

One of the most interesting parts of a huge city, in my opinion, is the variety of people you see. There are all sorts of very tanned, wrinkled poor people selling whatever they can on the side of the road. There are also plenty of bohemian/gypsies selling wares. Depending on the neighborhood, we have seen very wealthy people in designer clothes and private-school kids in uniforms. The most shocking for me was a family, including a small boy and girl under 6 years old living on the park-like median in the middle of the street that runs through the center of town. The kids didn't have shoes and appeared to be wearing burlap sacks. Another time we passed a mother carrying an infant and trailing a ways behind her was a girl, about 5 years old, leading her sister, maybe 3 years old. She stuck out her hand and asked "Una moneda, por favor?" I might have given her one, but I honestly didn't have any money with me.

¿Permiso, sabe donde estamos?

It would be much easier to blog if everything here wasn't so fun. I might have spare time to spend on the computer.

Sunday night I found myself at a long table having a tri-lingual conversation with people from England, Ireland, France, Australia, New Zealand, Peru, Brazil, and Argentina. The social life in our new hostel is much more lively, and since Kacie has been feeling sick, I've been spending a lot of time socializing with the other people staying there. I especially like the night staff, David from Peru and Rudá from Brazil; they're pretty low-key guys, and have to be up all night.

One of my fellow youth leaders in Salem is from Argentina, and on Monday we took the ''tur de Christian.'' We started relatively early in the morning (early for us, around noon) and took the subway across town to see the Lagos de Palermo, a huge city park with a ton of interconnected lakes. From there we made our way back the way we came, winding through the plazas that were on nearly every block. We made our way through the cemetery where Eva Peron, 'Evita', is buried. We saw some neat sights.

In the La Recoleta neighborhood we couldn't find our destination and stopped on a bench to look at our map. An adolescent approached us and asked if he could have some money. When he wouldn't go away, we got up to leave. As we were walking away, we heard a female voice behind us shouting ''Chicas!'' We could hear this person running after us and were speeding up as inconspicuously as possible, but the shouter caught up to us. It turns out it was not another gyspy, but rather a middle-class woman who was walking her dog and had seen the interaction with the adolescent. She warned us to be careful, and pointed out certain neighborhoods where we shouldn't go. We've made a sort of list of who is safe to talk to and who isn't. Couples are usually safe, but not gyspy couples. Groups of school children, especially in uniform, are safe, so long as they aren't gypsy school children. People at work are usually okay, so long as they aren't a gyspy. We have now added 'people walking their dog,' but of course, only if they are not a gypsy.

I wear a watch every day that I bought on one of the first days in Viña before I had my phone to tell time. It has been losing time with increasing persistance. Before I left Chile, Jose Manuel set it forward 20 minutes for me, but it has since been off by as much as three hours. Kacie and I are good travel companions because we both like going at a leisurely pace without an itinerary. Vacations are for relaxing, so we mostly just do what we feel like doing. I keep wearing the watch because I think it's funny, but I like that my watch doesn't tell time. It's more appropriate for our style.

At any given point in the day, between Kacie and I there is usually less than one of us who is aware of and/or focused on where we are going. Today we got on a ferry for Uruguay, and we're going to be spending a couple of nights in Montevideo. We slept on the ride in, and someone had to wake us when we arrived in the port. We kind of stumbled off the boat, and were not entirely sure where we were. Kacie asked someone and he kind of looked us up and down and was like 'Colonia... Uruguay...' This was not our final destination so we made a kind of difficult effort to figure out why we were not in Montevideo. We slept through almost our entire bus connection, which is a shame because Uruguay is quite beautiful. The greenery and aged buildings were a welcome change after Buenos Aires.

Our hostel for tonight is much quieter than the one in B.A., and I'm going to have to wake Kacie up from a nap if I want to do anything tonight. We're considering this the vaction from our vacation, so I'm not sure she's going to want to get up.

Argentina, days 1, 2, and 3

Kacie and I were planning on heading into Santiago on Thursday to chill around before our flight on Friday, but ended up getting lazy and going to the beach instead. We didn't leave Vina until 6 or 6:30 on Friday, and got to the airport around 8:30 for our 10 o'clock flight. There was a bit of a hold-up at the airport because the Chileans were mad that I don't have my student visa yet, but I'm not sure why they wanted me to have a visa to leave the country. We flew LAN again, and again it was an exellent experience with croissant sandwiches and free wine on a flight that was only two hours. Coming into Buenos Aires was pretty impressive, the lights literally extended into a haze on the horizon; Kacie said it was the biggest city she's ever seen, and she lived in Europe for three years.

We had an adventure in the cab into town, our cab driver kept driving in-between lanes pointing out tourist attractions, but since we got in at midnight, the sights weren't very easy to see. Our hostel was a kinda neat oldish building with a spiral staircase and its own bar. Kacie thought she had reserved beds in a girls' quad, but we ended up in a coed 8 with a door that squeeked like hell, which made our midnight entrance a nuisance to our roommates. The attendant directed us to a bar downtown; we didn't realize until midway through the night that the reason why we weren't being accosted was probably because it was a gay bar. Once we were more aware of our surroundings, though, it was a blast and we didn't get home until 7ish, just in time to wake our roommates yet again.

Our hostel didn't have water for a shower and we felt quite disgusting and not entirely satisfied with the experience, so we did some research and took the subway to a new hostel. The one we're in now is pretty rockin', they have social events and we drank in the bar downstairs with a bunch of fellow hostel-ers. There are quite a few from the U.K., a couple from France, a handful from Australia, and a smattering from the rest of the globe. Kacie made some quick friends, and we went out again for the fourth night in a row.

Yesterday day was pretty neat, too. After moving into the new hostel, we were planning on showering and napping, but Kacie wanted to check out a plaza nearby. She was designated the tour guide, and we ended up missing the plaza but finding an awesome urban park, complete with live music, multiple playgrounds, and a Saturday market. The walk was a lot longer than we expected, and we satiated our hunger with a "completa," a beef sandwich with grilled onions and bell peppers. This was definitely superior to the Chilean completo. We did end up finding the plaza we initially set out for; it had a street market, too, and Kacie bought herself a mate gourd.

This morning we nearly slept through our alarm for breakfast (11 am), and could barely drag ourselves out of bed. I did, however, thoroughly enjoy our fresh-baked bread with dulce de leche, and fresh-squeezed (like, literally squeezed just there) orange juice. We went back to bed and Kacie slept until about four. I got up around 2 to buy us an Easter treat: a giant Kinder egg. As soon as I could get Kacie out of bed we trekked back to the completa stand to enjoy another steak sandwich.

Buenos Aires is amazing so far. There are parts that are a tad scary, the cars drive even more crazily than they do in Vina, and there is a lot of trash and poop on the streets. On the other hand, there are some amazing buildings and the people are interesting. I've seen multiple bongo/percussion bands just on the street. The temperature is perfect. I guess I didn't spend much time out-of-doors today, but I think one day's rest is okay after the past four weeks that I've had in South America.

Oregon

My host mom finally got home from Venezuela at 3:30am before I woke up on Monday morning. She says her family member's health issues have been resolved, gracias a Dios for that. She brought me back some dulces.

Tonight I finally gave Maryte the gifts- "B is for Beaver," an ABC book about Oregon; and some marionberry truffles- that I brought from the U.S. For some reason, I have chosen Oregon as my state of origin, and thus as a part of my identity. After living in both Oregon and Washington I consider them both home, each with their unique personalities. Here in South America, I think Oregon is easier to explain; there's no D.C. confusion, and Oregon gets all the good names in history: Oregon trail, Oregon territory... Maybe also there's an element of college Janice in Oregon and pre-college Janice in Washington.

Oh! Oh! It's trembling a little!

I'm taking this econ class that I signed up for without really knowing the course description. Today we defined supply and demand and opportunity cost. I keep wavering between thinking it will be the easiest econ class I've taken and thinking it may be the hardest. The difficulty is the language barrier. Like GDP? They call it PIB. And my professor kept talking today about "escasez." It would have helped to know that it meant shortage/scarcity. Maybe I just need to suck it up and bring out my dictionary during class.

So the best part of today: Kacie and I bought tickets for Argentina today. Next week is what they call "semana novata," basically a week of activities for freshman, and most of my classes are cancelled. Our flight is this Friday and we come back into Santiago next Friday, so we have an entire week in Argentina and a few nights in Chile's capitol. The rest of our group is going down south to Punta Arenas to try and catch Patagonia before winter sets in, but Kacie and I looked at the weather forecast and decided to skip the rain. We have mountains in the PNW, but there's only one Buenos Aires.

Asado

There's always so much that happens that I can't possibly write it all down.

Jose Manuel and I call each other best friends because out of the group we get along the best. But don't tell the rest of them I said so. His building was one of the few that fell down during the earthquake, so he lost a lot of his stuff. On Saturday we went out to buy him some new clothes. I was supposed to be his fashion advisor, but I'm not sure how much help I was since I use my sister as my own fashion advisor. He helped me buy a new phone, since I lost mine at the discotec and the boys say there is no way of recovering it.

We met up with the others for yet another party. We always meet at Diego's house because his mom, Tati, doesn't mind us being there. Tati had friends over that night, too, so we were relegated to the backyard-porch. It seems like the later it gets, the better my Spanish (castellano, they say) gets. At the raucous core of a night I usually have two or three chilenos around me teaching me modismos and telling me to say stuff that I don't understand, usually insults, to the other chilenos.

Sunday "morning" I slept in until 3:30 when Kacie called me with the plans for the day. I wasn't ready by the time the girls boarded the micro for Con Con, so Kacie made it my job to get the boys out of the house and to the beach. At 4:30 I was zipping down an ocean highway wedged into a car full of hombres joking loudly with each other in rapid Spanish. At the end of the 20 minute drive to Con Con I burst out of the car and sprinted down the beach to find my fellow gringitas and get some space from the testosterone.

After a bit of swimming in the ocean, the boys decided they wanted to have an asado, so all eight of us packed into the car with Marco in the trunk. (Just kidding mom, I would never do something so stupid. We were all wearing seat belts and driving 5 under the speed limit.) The bbq took way too long to cook, but was totally worth it. We had sunset sausages in an apartment overlooking the beach and listened to music too loud until we realized that it was Sunday and we had classes the next day.

School blog #1

So for school I have to write blogs based on my experiences here. In order to ensure that they have substance, the school has outlined prompts for us. One of them, on which I will be commenting, is below.

3. What have you done to learn about your host-country’s culture? What parts of the

culture are you learning about? What do you feel you are missing? What can you do to

explore the parts you feel you are missing? What parts of the host culture do you enjoy the most? What are the least enjoyable parts? Why do you dislike these aspects of the culture?

What am I doing to learn about my host-country's culture? This is a hard question to answer without being obvious. 1.) I am living with a family. I eat almuerzo with whoever is home at the same time as me. I've mostly gotten over my discomfort at having a hired person bring me my food, and I think my stomach is adjusting to dinner in the middle of the day. I watch movies in bed with my host mom, and let my nana fuss over my clothes. I talk about school and interests with my brothers. 2.) I'm going to school here. I'm in class every day with Chileans, observing and participating in the school system. I have a 1/2 hour commute each way, so I spend one or two hours a day on the bus, surrounded by people talking, laughing, and going about their business. During my free time I like to walk around the city, buy food from street vendors, hang out with the street dogs. 3.) I have some awesome Chilean friends. I spend as much time with them as possible and they take me along on their adventures. I have seen cities, churches, barbeques, families, and views with them. They are always teaching me new vocabulary and correcting my grammar.

Based on these sources, I'm really only seeing the middle-class side of Chile, with a little bit of whatever is in the street. It's been difficult to go beyond the middle-class buffer zone, especially when the Chileans are constantly warning me about danger. I have, however gotten increasingly good at carrying very little with me, which feels a little safer, and opens up a few more possibilities for destinations. My gringa friend Kacie and I recently wandered into a few unknown neighborhoods, and while the increased risk is noticeable, sometimes the locations are worth a walk-through. My host mom offered to help me find work volunteering in an under-privileged school, and I told her I'd be up for it. I miss children, and would appreciate the extra socialization. So far most of the people I have encountered here have been very friendly. I feel comfortable in Chile.

Cerveza del puerto

Almost every night I fall asleep thinking "today was the best day." This was especially true last night.

We had been planning to go into Santiago around 2, and I got on instant messenger (I lost my phone at the discotec on Thursday night...) around noon to check what was up. Diegs said to get over to his house immediately because we were going to Con Con to go swimming. So of course I rushed over and then had to wait for like a year for them to actually be ready to go.

Diego's friend Marco is in town from Santiago, and his dad's summer/sometimes apartment is in Con Con. The building, like all of the city, is built upon sand dunes, and is shaped around the hilly landscape. The pool itself is on the fourth or fifth story/level and looks directly out into the sea with nothing blocking the view. It was like floating on a cloud. We took a little dip and laid out to catch some sun until my hunger got the best of me and we headed out for some food.

I took my second stab at the completo, the hot dog sandwich I had on one of my first days here. It is essentially a long, skinny hot dog (vienesa, they say) laying in a huge toasty french roll, topped with an inch of tomatoes, topped with an inch of avocado, topped with an inch of mayo. I got smart this time and opted to share one with Kacie; it turned out to be just the right amount of meat-to-topping-disproportionate sandwich for one gringa.

There wasn't really anything else we needed to do, so we just headed back to the pool for more laying out and a couple of piscolas. The day lazily faded from 4 o'clock to 7 o'clock, and we decided to head back into Vina to start the evening.

Marco insisted that we needed to try Chilean signature "cerveza del puerto," so we trundled off to a bar in el centro (the center, downtown). We had to walk a little farther along the main street than I had ventured before and the street lights were beginning to get fewer, but the bar itself had an awesome industrial/really-cool-bar feeling. Marco ordered us french fries, because our eating usually runs on my stomach's schedule and I was feeling hungry again. Diego got a call that another friend was coming in from Santiago and we should head home soonish to meet him.

The night was similar to all the others: we hung around Diego's with a large group of friends until we could go out dancing. The club we wanted to try was full and wouldn't let in such a huge group of boys and only two girls, so we headed toward the beach. Kacie and I waded in the surf for a little while before our cold-sensors turned on and we headed home. There was a bit of a commotion trying to get the hot water to work, but once we got it figured out and got washed up the socializing continued.

Eventually, my stomach started rumbling yet again and it was really getting late, so I headed out and Jose Manuel opted to walk me home. We stopped by McDonalds, which is a surprisingly popular destination at 5 am on Saturday morning. We ate and walked home, making my final bedtime around 6:30. We made plans for when we were going to start the fiesta again, and I got some much needed beauty rest so I could be ready for another grueling day of doing everything and nothing.

Seashells by the seashore

I will be very impressed with myself if I don't gain weight during this trip. Even on overcast days, the lure of an ice cream shop on almost every street is just too much for me. It helps that it is so cheap. On a good day, I can get a pretty big cone for 390 pesos, about 80 cents. Other days, like today, I have to settle for a big cone for 950 pesos, a little less than 2 dollars.

While the ice cream is cheap, it can be a pretty steep trade-off. I can get a sizable bottle of pisco, the best alcohol known to man, for about 1200 pesos, and it will last Kacie and I until the party ends sometime after 4 in the morning. Similarly, we can get a "juicebox" of relatively good wine for the same price, or even splurge on a 1.5L bottle for 1500 pesos, just under 3 dollars, and that will make a satisfying beach day for five of us.

If I choose to go with the pisco instead of the helado, I work it off dancing. Last week we went out every night from Wednesday to Saturday, meeting friends everywhere we went. It's not that bad, really; Wednesday is gringo night at Cafe Journal, Thursday we have Huevo Jueves (Huevo is the name of a club), and Friday and Saturday are just a given. This weekend the plan is to go into Santiago and check out the hip-haps there.

When I'm not with the group, I'm not sure what do to with myself. My class schedule is far from strenous: I don't start until 2 on Monday, only have one class Thursday, and have none on Friday. On the overcast days I can't make myself go to the beach, so I normally sit on the porch and read. I've been consuming literature almost as fast as the ice cream. Lunch isn't until 2 or so, and I don't really wake up early enough to leave the house for anything practical before that, so it's a lot of just chilling around.

I tried my hand at cooking, but it was an epic fail. I tried to recreate the mac'n'cheese recipe that I perfected this school year thanks to my dad's gift of a Costco flat of Kraft. I walked up and down the noodle aisle in the Santa Isabel (supermarket) looking for the signature blue boxes, and finally realized that they sell mac'n'cheese in bags here. This is actually a funny story in and of itself; they sell everything in bags. Ketchup in bags, mayonnaise in bags, soup mix in bags, yogurt in bags. What don't they sell in bags?

I finally settled for two bags of shells and cheese and stopped at the deli counter to get some real cheese to put on top. I wasn't sure what to get, so I just read the label of the cheese closest to me, which turned out to be a kind of sharp havarti. At home, I had a hard time finding the right pots and pans, we didn't have taco seasoning (of course not, these people don't care about Mexican food), and didn't know how to work the gas oven. Instead of crispy, spicy, delicious mac, we had dry, awkward shells. The boys told me it was really good, but I think they were just trying to save my ego. Either that, or they were just grateful for the free food.

El micro

The bus ride into Valparaiso runs along the ocean to the west, but I always stare out the windows facing east in order to watch the buildings built into the side of the hill.

The buses are a supreme adventure. They don't run on regular schedules and don't necessarily have regular stops. You have to know what route you're looking for in the bus window and flag them down before they pass you. Sometimes you have to run to catch them, and other times they expect you to exit before the bus comes to a complete stop. Once, a bus driver encouraged me to step into moving traffic and cross in front of another bus to get on, so he wouldn't have to pull over and lose momentum. Although it's hectic, it also works in a way. No one slows down and everyone keeps moving. In the words of Diego, "no pares, nunca pares."

Con Con adventure

This Saturday night I found myself in the back of a moving truck flying around Vina in search of Coca Cola. I didn't know most of the other people in the car, but I knew that we were all friends. Among the memories from that night, I have a large welty bruise on my right shin from when I missed a stair. I slept so well this morning.

Today we ventured into Con Con, a beach town about 20 minutes away from Vina. I was anticipating another beach day like the others, mostly relaxing, but maybe trying to rent some kayaks or something. The adventure began when our micro took a turn away from the beach. We waited a few blocks before getting off not where we were supposed to be. We were in Con Con as planned, but we were supposed to be meeting Sam somewhere that wasn't very clear, and Jacob thought he knew where we were going.

Based on Leah's suggestion that her family had taken a left turn and reached dunes, we backtracked and took the turn on foot. It should have been immediately obvious that our walk was not going to be productive, but like every other matter of common sense in Chile we missed the warning signs.

We walked past a myriad of stands selling tomatoes, avocados, olives, and other vegetables, some for as little as $2 for 3 kilos. We continued over two bridges, across a train track and on up a hill for about 6 kilometers. The road we had taken was basically a two-lane highway, and when the shoulder got more narrow we were nearly blown over by semi-trucks rushing past us. Our walk started at about 4:30, and by 6 the sun was threatening to set and we still had no idea where we were supposed to be finding Sam.

We made the decision to turn around and try to find a bus when we came upon a beach access. I was quite tired and all for finding a bus, but everyone wanted to "check it out." On the sandy path down to the ocean we spotted a group of tiny kittens hiding in a bush. The sand was a relief for our aching feet and we took off our shoes to enjoy it. We could see Con Con, now miles away, from where we arrived on the beach, and decided to make the walk home oceanside. Midway down the beach we came upon a group of literally thousands of seagulls; walking through them as they lifted off was one of the most amazing sights I have ever witnessed.

The beach was getting us ever closer to our goal when a fisherman called to us that we wouldn't be able to continue in the direction we were headed. The bridges we had crossed in the beginning of our journey were there for a reason, and we'd have to trek back up to the road to reach them. He gave us confusing directions in Spanish and sent us off.

As we climbed the dunes from the beach we encountered mountains of plastic that seemed to suggest a lie about recycling, but I thought it was probably just trash washed up from the beach. Further trekking brought us parallel with an industrial-type plant that we joked probably contained ladrones. The road the fisherman sent us toward was in the distance when we happened upon the train tracks from before.

Despite Leah's fear of train tracks and the areas surrounding them, it seemed to be the fastest route from A to B, and I proposed that we follow them. I almost regretted my suggestion when we encountered three Chileans on horseback who seemed to be coming toward us. Though our paths intersected, they were harmless, and appeared to be returning home to a shantytown east of the train tracks. I nudged Kacie to take a picture, but it is always shocking to me the contrast in living conditions one can find within small distances.

Though my story doesn't give justice to the amount of walking we actually endured, we finally made it back to the bridges where we found Sam, but unfortunately the sun really was setting, and there wasn't really any time left for the beach. We were all starving, and Con Con is famous for its empanadas; we were all dying for one. Instead of going to one of the thousand empanada stands near the bridges, Sam said we should wait for a little ways down the road where there were some very nice beach-side restaurants.

Whether or not these restaurants actually exist is up for debate, because we kept on walking until the sun set without seeing any, and started to worry we may not be able to get a bus back to Vina. Followed by a small group of street dogs, we finally found a bus stop and sat down for the first time in hours to wait for a micro. It took about 20 minutes, but a micro finally came to save us.

Luckily, we had started the day without many expectations, saying that it would be an exploratory visit. I think that we may have "explored" a little more than we needed to, but I think that sore feet and a sunburn is a small price to pay for a real Chilean adventure.

Nadando en el mar

Yesterday was possibly the best beach day ever. After lunch, Kacie and I met Julia and Leah to soak up some rays at la playa. The beach here is different from the NW coasts. The sand slopes relatively steeply from the high-tide line, so the ocean gets deep a lot faster than it does on the beaches that I frequent in OR and WA. The waves are a lot smaller, and there's really only one line of them; only a few yards of turbulence before you're out in the gently-rocking tide.

We met a chileno named Max who shared his paddle game with us before Kacie and I got hot and bored and headed for the surf. The water is just about as cold as it is in the PNW, but once you get past the break point, it's pretty good swimming. I've never been able to really swim in an ocean, but we went out pretty far and just laid on our backs and let it rock us. The others eventually joined and we swam for quite a while before heading home for dinner.

True to our pattern, Kacie and I then headed out to hang with Cristobal's friends. Jose Manuel described my life like this: "You wake up, you eat lunch, you go to the beach, you eat again, and then you come here to party with us." It's a pretty sweet life, I'm not gonna lie. We all trekked to Cafe Journal again, and I didn't get home until the early morning. Kacie and I wasted another afternoon happily napping on the beach under some 50 spf before going home to eat, agreeing to call when we were ready to meet up with the boys again.

Kacie, Diego, Sam, Me, Jose Manuel, Jacob, and Macarena

Salt-water hair

Sausalito

My host brothers just keep getting better and better. They are a source of constant amusement, mostly just because of the way they are. Like Cristobal's voice gets really high when he's worked up about something. I've made friends with Cristobal's friends and am beginning to be allowed in the banter. Perfecto.

It's a morning hike to my first class on Wednesdays and Thursdays. I cross through the neighborhoods before coming to a winding-hill boulevard. Along it's path is a eco-biology farm that looks to be out of use right now, but shows promise for later in the season. At the top of the hill is a stadium, and as you round a corner you come upon the Sausalito lake. Along the Western edge of the lake stands my hilltop campus, which overlooks disheartening shanty-town neighborhoods to its West. This campus is made up of tightly-packed buildings whose names are letters, but the don't seem to be placed in any particular order. As I enter the campus, I take a last look at the lake before starting my day as a scholar in my second language.

Euro mullet

Not that I know a lot about it, but it seems to me that Chile is fairly European. There is a lot of commercial and residential variety in my neighborhood, and it makes it easy to walk to whatever you need. Their public transportation system couldn't be better, except maybe if they wanted to reupholster the bus seats or make the drivers drive less crazily. A lot of the people dress very well, and make me feel unfashionable on an average day. They also seem crazy about the Euro mullet, but I couldn't tell you why.

In contrast, I am basically the only blonde person on the streets. The Chileans are relatively tall and fair, based on what I've seen in other Latin American countries, but I am definitely in a whole different category. Sometimes it's nice to feel unique, but the oggling has gotten a little tiresome. I am, however, itching to make some more Chilean friends.

The food here is not quite what I expected. Someone from Willamette told me that they eat a lot of bread, but it doesn't factor into my family's diet too heavily. Nor is our food spicy. Today for lunch we had lettuce with a tuna-stuffed tomato on top for our salad, and a bean and noodle soup for the meal. So far it's all been in the same fashion, with a lot of patty-type mixtures of veggies or meat with veggies. I have had cravings for food that I grew up with, but overall they keep me well fed.

There are like a thousand dogs in the streets here. The most common type seems to be a German Shepherd mix, but there are plenty of lab mixes, and even a curly-haired dog or two. My brother scolded me for petting them, but every one I've encountered has been nice. Sometimes they will follow you for your entire walk, and I even heard of someone who had a dog follow him to a party and it was still waiting for him when he left.

"Fluff" sharing my beach towel

Livin' la vida loca

What a weekend!

Our mom is in Venezuela for a while to take care of some family stuff, and it was just me and Antonio at home on Friday night. Our dinner conversation went like this:

A: What are you going to do tonight?

J: I don't know yet, you?

A: Yeah, I don't know either.

We ended up each inviting a friend or two, but we ended up with more than just a few guests. We all went to Goose, a discotec, and danced until we were ready to fall over. They don't seem to believe in drinking straight water here, and Antonio felt pretty bad the next morning.

I spend Saturday at the beach from after lunch until sunset, which is basically how I've spent all of my days here so far. One of my U.S. friends, Jacob, was celebrating his 21st birthday that night, so Kacie and I made some jello party treats in order to share our culture with the chilenos. Jacob's host mom is pretty liberal, and their house is basically a constant party. The college students hung out outside, and I was soon introduced to some of Cristobal's friends. We exchanged jokes, sometime laughing at the punchlines, and sometimes laughing about how the language difference kills some kinds of humor. They didn't understand my favorite joke, the one about the guys with the black eyes. "Eh, no funciona en español," they told me.

Guillermo, Jose Manuel, Diego, and Chicon

They usually stay in, but I convinced them to take me out dancing. We ended up going to Cafe Journal, 'the place where all the college students go'. It had a splendid mix of hip-hop and 80s/90s hits. Cris's friends are pretty fun, and they told me all sorts of things to say to him to get his goat. Upon leaving the club, we gringos amused the chilenos with our sympathy for the street dogs, and Jacob and Sam amused us all by climbing stone walls. Antonio kept calling me to ask me where I was, and I kept having to tell him I don't know, but I'm with Cristobal's friends so stop calling me.

I expected Antonio to be home when I got there, but instead found a strange drunken college guy, who didn't really make sense and tried to go to sleep in Cristobal's bed. Luckily, Cristobal and Sebastian got home shortly after and interrogated the poor guy before letting him go. It was after 6 am by the time I got into bed.

I woke up surprisingly early this morning and prepared myself for another day at la playa. I haven't tanned as much as I would have expected, but I feel like it means the sunscreen is working. We met a few new people, and hung out with some beach-bum street dogs. Our favorite was Atreyu, a fierce black lab mix who stayed with us the rest of the night.

Jacob with Atreyu

Once the sun started to go down, we headed out for some tex-mex, mostly because I had been complaining about the lack of Mexican food in my diet. Midway through our overpriced meal, the lights went out. Sam happened to have a headlamp in her bag, and we continued eating happily. Our server told us that all of Chile lost power. The walk home was kinda sketchy. I went most of the way with Jacob, but I was pretty afraid of ladrones during my walk alone.

You can't quite tell, but there were definitely no lights

The power didn't come on again until about 10:30, but it wasn't really a huge deal. Chile is one of the wealthiest countries in South America, but the chilenos have told me that a lot has changed since the earthquake. It seems like there is a lot of solidarity in the country right now, and those in Viña definitely recognize how fortunate they are.

After the lights came back on, I got to have my first hot shower since being here. I can't even tell you how good it felt after spending so much time in the sun, in the sea, and on the dancefloor. Things are a little crazy right now, but mostly people are living life as normally as possible. It's kind of like an adventure for all of us.

Hermanos

We've been having small aftershocks all afternoon. How fun! Sometimes they're really small and I can't quite tell if they actually are aftershocks or not. It just feels like I'm borracha or something: like, maybe the earth is moving, or maybe it's just me.

I'm really enjoying having older brothers. I always thought it would be kinda fun to live with older siblings, especially those of the male variety who could be all manly and goofy and protective of me. How pleasant.

Cristobal talks with his mouth full and Antonio walks around in his underwear. Cristobal offers me part of his chocolate bar and Antonio shares his sushi ("Te gusta el suchi?") Antonio invites me out with his friends and Cristobal shows me how to use the bus. Cristobal is definitely the younger one, maybe a little more hip, but also more silly. Antonio is older, quieter and more serious, but better conversation for dinner.

It's Friday, we're going out!

El terremoto

Today was such a big day! I'm so tired, but I think I really should write tonight and not put it off, right?

I woke up way too early (um, like 9:30) to go to orientation at school. I rode the micro (bus) all by myself! When I got there I realized I really shouldn't have come so early because they were doing something with their student visas and I still don't have mine yet. No worries, though, all in good time.

A little before noon we were waiting outside of the international students office when the ground started to rumble a little. I was really excited because this was the first one I have felt, except for maybe two times in the evening that I wasn't even sure about, despite the fact that they have been happening daily in Vina. A few minutes later, the ground shook again, but we weren't very worried because it really didn't feel like much.

My group leader got up and we followed her, I kinda thought it was just time for us to take the test, but the next thing I knew we were in the stairway with the rest of the students in the building, heading up to the fourth floor "just in case" there was a tsunami. All in all this little excursion was pretty boring because we just sat up there for a little more than an hour before they let us down to e-mail our families that we were okay. I met a few cool people, though.

After sending our e-mails we continued to wait to take our oral exams, but eventually our group leader told us they were cancelled for the day. It was a bit of an overreaction, if you ask me. A bunch of us decided to go to lunch since we had missed it during all the hustle-bustle. But when we returned to the streets of Valparaiso, we found them nearly empty because the majority of the people had literally run to the hills for fear of a tsunami. We thought we would have better luck returning to Vina.

As we approached the bus stop (which is actually just a main road where you flag the bus you want) there was a long crowd of people waiting for the micro. Every single bus that passed us was jammed full, and only took on a few passengers if any. After watching one bus drive away with a person literally hanging out of the rear doors, we realized that we weren't going to have any luck catching a bus if we stayed with the crowd. We headed further up the road, all the time looking out for taxis or anything else that might drive us the 9 km back to Vina.

After a little bit of walking, a lot of flagging and even more waiting, we finally got a driver to take us on, and the seven of us crammed into the aisle where it was standing-room only. People were even passing their bags over to people who had seats in order to conserve room in the center. I don't know if you've ever been to Latin America, but the drivers are crazy, and the road between Valpo and Vina are fast and curvy. The bus driver was whipping us around curves and practically into people's laps. Luckily, one of the guys with us speaks fairly well and fairly fast, and he was able to yell over people's heads when we needed to leave. Three of us squeezed our way out the back door and worked her way through the front, but there were still three of us trying to get out when the bus started to take off. Luckily, it was pretty obvious that we were together, and everyone on the bus yelled for him to stop so we could exit.

The guy who speaks well, Brian, took us into Renaca, which is a middle-upper-class suburb of Vina. After searching in vain for a restaurant that was open, someone actually reopened for us. I had my first Chilean empanadas, and I hate to say it, but they weren't as good as I was expecting. I may have to try different flavors. By the time we ate it was almost 4 and most of us hadn't eaten since that morning, so sitting down to food was a real treat.

Brian's family lives up in the hills in Renaca and he said we could get there with a "short hike." After climbing a huge (I mean, HUGE, bigger than anything I saw in SF) staircase, he admitted to us that his host family is actually his real family. He was born in Vina but is a U.S. citizen, and has only been back once. He has spent the past month in Vina reconnecting with family, and the house we were going to was his aunt's house. We continued to trek up the suburban hills on foot before finally coming to a nice house in a nice neighborhood where we enjoyed a cerveza and a well-deserved siesta. We spent the rest of the day relaxing by the pool, before returning home.

"Hola, Jan-ees, como fue to dia?" Maryte greeted me when I got in.

"Fue bien." I told her.

"Y te asusto el terremoto?" she asked me.

"No, no mucho." I replied.

El gitano

You have to like avocado to live in this town. This morning, I asked my mom for toast for breakfast, and when she asked what I wanted on top of it, I mumbled awkwardly until she was satisfied with my answer. She demonstrated for me the best way to remove an avocado from its skin, and plopped half of an avocado onto one half of my small toasted roll, making my entire breakfast consist of one small toasted roll, one whole avocado, with two small pieces of deli turkey on top.

So far it's been difficult for me to have a personality. Usually I rely pretty heavily on sarcasm as my one form of humor, but it's hard to be sarcastic in a language that you barely understand. Also, I am used to long periods of quiet, but I realize that those around me may prefer conversation. My brother Cristobal took me into Valparaiso today (I'm getting better at understanding him every minute) and there were times when we didn't say anything for a long time. I kinda hope they understand that that's just me, it's not because I don't know how to talk in Spanish.

Finally, today I learned a slightly expensive lesson. In other words, I got swindled. Okay, so here's how it happened. I was walking innocently along the boardwalk when someone said hi or something and asked me the time. She stopped when she asked the question so, being polite, I stopped too. I wasn't wearing my watch, but I took a second to pull out my phone to check. It was like 5, but that's not really important. She said that she was a gypsy, and since I was nice, she would tell me my fortune for free. This sounded fun enough (more like I'm too pansy to just walk away) so I extended my hand. She said something something and then encouraged me to sit down on the edge of the boardwalk for a more in-depth look. I think I was starting to get sketched out about now, but she put a 1000 peso note (approx. $2) in my hand and said something something about how it's all a gift. Then she took her pesos back and asked me to replace hers with one of my own. Obviously a reader is saying now that I should not have done it, but I did. Once she saw my wallet, she kinda started fingering through it, pretending like she was blessing each one of it's folds or something. Luckily I did not have very much in it. She ended up pulling out the 5000 pesos that I had in it (in addition to the 1000 I had in my hand), and she held these, all crumpled up in her hand. I got slightly more assertive now, saying "Please give that back to me," or something along those lines. Obviously she did not. We went on in this charade for a while, and I was getting quite uncomfortable when finally she poured water on my pesos and started kneading them in her hand with a stick. She was blabbering the entire time and I was naively pretending to understand. When she finally reopened her hand with my money, all that was left was a grayish mush where my pesos had been. She said something like "This is a tragedy in your life, of which there will be many, but your life is going to change." Then she asked for one of my beers and let me go. So that was an experience.

A Friend Day in the City

I woke up this morning bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 11:30. When I stumbled into the hall toward the restroom, Elisa was standing in Maryte's room and greeted me warmly, asking what I would like for breakfast. I made my requests and I spent a few minutes tidying my room before she brought my food to my room on a tray. Let me say, this is a nice way to start a morning. Seriously, though, it's a little weird.

I got dressed and excused myself from the house; I had plans with friends! Maryte called me and reminded me to wear bloqueador (sunscreen), so my first stop was the farmacia so I could buy some, SPF 50 to make Zara proud. After the pharmacy, I stopped by the mall to get more info about my pay-as-you-go phone, and then trekked toward the meeting place.

My companions for the day were Jacob from SD who goes to school in MT; Kayla, also from SD who goes to school in IA; Konnie from Germany; and Kacie from IN who goes to school with Jacob. Konnie was here last year, so she showed us around. We stopped by El Centro because it is better than the mall which is overpriced. I bought a pair of sunglasses and a watch and then found myself without cash. Konnie convinced us to eat this disgusting thing that she says is a Chilean classic, El Completo, see picture below for full disgust. It was actually pretty tasty, especially after I scraped the 1/4-inch of mayo off of it.

And this is post-mayo-scrape

After lunch we walked back across town to the beach and spent a few hours there. Jacob and Kacie and I bodysurfed for a while (I hope this is not a very technical sport and I am not lying about what was really just being bashed about by the waves) before we all spread out to sunbathe. It was late afternoon, but one of the last hot days of the Vina summer, and we dried out in no time.

You can see Valparaiso in the distance

When we began to feel restless we went to a grocery store and bought way too much Chilean beer and then began the hike to an ice cream place down the beach that Konnie said was totally worth it, but I think we would have done just as well to eat at the ice cream shop that was literally a hundred yards from where we had been sunbathing. This walk took entirely too much time, but by the time we had purchased our helado we sat on the boardwalk just in time to watch the sun set over the water.

It seems strange to me that this is my home, not just a place where I am vacationing. People have informed me that it will be getting colder, the summer is basically over, but I know it will still be a paradise at 53 F. I just hope my enchantment lasts the entire five months. I'm already getting a little sick of speaking Spanish, which I didn't anticipate, but it still has high points. For example, my brother Cristobal came into my room tonight to ask about my plans. I couldn't understand a word out of his mouth (and normally don't) until we got a little ways into the conversation. By the time he was explaining his major to me, I was getting about 90%. So it makes me feel like it will get better.

Travel and Arrival

Okay, maybe I should have a better title. If I think of one, I´ll change it.

For now, there is a ton to say. I spent 48 hours travelling, and have been in Chile for about 36 hours. So yeah, a lot has happened.

Thursday morning, I woke up at 4 am to shower for my first flight. The trip to San Francisco was short- like an hour and a half. Lena´s mom was waiting for me at the gate, and we spent a lovely day in SF. After dropping my bags at their adorable house, we went to a library to pick up books that had been donated and drove them to the donation center. Every trip should with begin with community service. Then we spent the rest of the morning exploring Telegraph hill in search of the wild parrot flock that lives there. Elizabeth was very obliging, and we spent possibly more time than we should have walking up and down the hill with no luck. After lunch, we were returning to the car when we heard an overwhelming ruckus and there they were! The wild parrots of Telegraph hill! Mission success!

We rested at home for a couple of hours and I caught up on the sleep that I missed that morning. We had dinner at a delightful Peruvian restaurant and I had real ceviche for the first time ever. It was one of the best things I have ever tasted. Elizabeth and Jason also got me a little tipsy on sangria, but I didn´t admit it to them at the time. We went to bed basically as soon as we got home; my next flight was at 6:30 the next morning.

I was feeling a lot of remorse upon leaving Portland, but flying definitely helped. I love, love, love flying, and the take-off out of San Francisco was exceptional. As we sped down the runway, I got to literally watch the sun rise over the bay. The Miami airport was cool for about -5 seconds. My layover was almost 6 hours, and my carry-on duffel was getting quite heavy. As soon as I forked over the 4 dollars for a bag cart, though, it was okay, despite the glaring lack of free wifi.

The flight to Santiago was a very curious combination of luxury and I-hate-everything. I couldn´t figure out which was my seat, and enlisted the help of two friendly-looking gentlemen who chuckled when they realized I was to be between the two of them. They denied my offer to let them sit next to each other. Turns out they are from Georgia, and were on their way to Argentina for a hunting vacation, and also had no senseof personal arm space. During the entire flight I was fighting their old, tan arms for room on my side of the armrest. Needless to say, sleeping was almost impossible, despite the fact that my flight was overnight.

The luxury part of the flight came courtesy of the airline. We had our own seat-back tvs with movies and music on demand; I watched Blind Side. We had two complimentary meals, both delicious and served with real tableware and complimentary wine. To make it even better, my flight attendant was a very attractive male who made me feel very giddy and even spill one of my five glasses of orange juice on myself. He winked as he handed me a napkin to clean up.

The airport in Santiago was bizarre. We got down from the plane on a roll-away staircase, and found our luggage spread on the concrete below. I could only find one of my two checked bags, which was alright until I realized that the missing bag has my power adapter, which means I am using the family computer, and will not post pictures until later when my laptop has more than 6% battery. We then walked through one of those huge temporary tents to get to customs. They didn´t ask me any questions, even what I meant by "other" as my purpose in the country. Nor did I have to pay any money, which is nice, but they did stamp my passport, which is also nice.

Next, I waited with a bunch of other students from the U.S. for our bus to leave for Viña del Mar where we would meet our families. My host mother´s name is Maria Teresa, but most people call her Maryte. I have three host brothers, Sebastian, Antonio, and Cristobal, and they are all very nice, but Cristobal is basically impossible to understand. We also have a woman, Elisabet, who works with the family, which I think is a strange way of saying that she works for the family, but it may just be cultural.

I spent a short time unpacking and we had lunch, which was a legitimate two-course meal with plates that were prepared. It is was interesting luxury, considering our apartment is nice for the area, but mostly just okay in my opinion. Next, my host mother took me shopping at the mall, since the suitcase I lost was the one that contained all of my shoes (embarrassingly enough, that´s basically all it contained) and I hadn´t packed a pair of sandals anyway. We walked through about five stores before we were both satisfied with a pair, and then my host mom bought me ice cream and showed me where the other mall is, just so I know. We then walked to the beach, which is like 4 blocks from our apartment, and visited Maryte´s mother-in-law.

This visit was better than I expected, I´m normally very antsy around old people. They served me a glass of wine, and showed me the Victoria´s view. Victoria also has a woman who "works with her," but this woman actually sat and conversed with us. We laughed at the diversity- I'm from the U.S., Maryte from Venezuela, Victoria from Palestine, and her helper from Germany. I kind of hope we go visit them again, because the way ladies talk about news and social commentary is a unique form of dialogue that I think would be helpful to learn.

Maryte and I watched a movie in her bed when we got home and went to bed basically right after. I had three pieces of fruit during the movie and that plus a roll were my dinner. I read some David Sedaris in bed and fell asleep very quickly.

This morning after breakfast, Maryte took me to learn how to use the bus. She is very nice, and knows what is helpful to teach me. After a short ride to Valparaíso, we departed a block from my school, which is on a slightly shady street. We witnessed an attempted robbery, but continued right to the market around the corner where we bought fresh, delicious nectarines. Maryte bought a vegetable for dinner and we headed back to Viña where I feel much safer.

We had lunch in a young part of town with Sebastian, who doesn´t technically live with us, but spends time here on the weekends. They say that my Spanish is very good, and by the time I leave, I´ll even be able to understand Cristobal. We are now in the middle of a real-live Latin siesta. So basically things are good. And once I get my shoes back, they´ll be even better.

Farewell Pacific Northwest

It's my last night in the PNW, and I don't really want to go to sleep. I'm quite nervous. I have travelled a fair amount in my lifetime: Montana, Idaho, California, Florida, Tennessee, British Columbia, Baja California, El Salvador and parts of Europe; but I have never missed an entire Pacific Northwest season. All of the seasons here are my favorite! (That's a straight lie, autumn is my favorite.) I've started to get pretty nostalgic. The daffodils have started blooming, and I'm going to be sad to miss dad bringing fresh-cut flowers to the breakfast table. I'm sad to miss Easter baskets (not that we even do them anymore), the hippies by the Mill Stream, Zara's and Nicole's birthdays, Wulapalooza, and track season. But I've been told repeatedly not to complain when you are about to ship off to a 75 degree paradise with an apartment 8 blocks from the beach.

I am flying to San Francisco bright and early tomorrow (I am currently borrowing from the 5 hours of sleep time I have left) to spend a day with Lena's mom, Elizabeth. I requested to see the wild parrots of Telegraph Hill, but I'm sure she knows more exciting things to see in the city. Friday morning (and again, obscenely early) I fly from SFO to Miami where I have to spend a nearly six-hour layover. I snubbed Lena's advice to bring a blanket when it turned out that I do need all of my suitcase space, but I am starting to regret it. My Mexico blanket is trying to guilt me into bringing it, knowing I will be much happier in it's comforting arms, but I just don't see where I'm going to find the room... Maybe I'll have to move some clothes out of my carry-on. Who needs that just-in-case-they-lose-your-luggage outfit anyway?

At 8:20 pm Friday I will board my final plane (hopefully?!) for the recently-rumbled Santiago airport. From there, the plan is for someone from the school to pick me up, and I think they will drive me to my host family. I e-mailed my host mom for the first time on Saturday, just to check that my family was okay, and she has since added me on Facebook. I have high hopes for our relationship.

On the other hand, I am going to miss my biological family dearly. As much as it has been a pain in the butt, I have enjoyed rooming with my sister for the past two months. I can't really imagine being so far away from her and everyone else for so long. But I guess we usually adapt to our environment, and as soon as it comes time to leave Chile I will be writing a post to echo this one.

As much as I don't want to, I really should be getting to bed. It's going to be a big day tomorrow.

Predeparture

Episode 1: Testing the blogger.

Even though the rest of the spring study abroaders are getting on planes within about a week, leaving the country still doesn't feel quite real to me. The academic year in Chile doesn't start until March, so I still have a solid two months in the USofA. There are things to get done:

-Visa. Working on this. There are a lot of steps, and the last one involves being in San Francisco, but overall I feel like I am on course.
-Willamette paperwork. For example the credit-equivalency sheet that I still haven't turned in.
-Buy stuff. Oh good, something I'm good at. I've already gotten myself a new sundress, new underwear, and a luggage set. So this is the task that I have been the most successful with.

Right. I suppose I also am supposed to make money for the trip. Good thing I get an extra-long winter break.