Making adjustments and the implications of cooking (and not cooking)

My expat observation for the week is that you never quite realize how much understanding you gain of a country in 22 years until you have to start over in a new one. In my head I can sort of relate the experience to learning a language. As my dad, an expat himself, has told me (and whoever else happened to be at the dinner table at the time) countless times, "You will never become fluent until you stop translating." So I've been making a concerted effort this week to stop translating Chilean cultural experiences to more familiar American things. To describe a few examples, shopping and the government have been recurrent themes for me this week.

First, I am not even close to breaking the habit of translating Chilean pesos to American dollars, and continuing to do so may have consquences. Last year, the exchange rate was conveniently around 500 pesos per dollar, usually trending in favor of my money, upwards of 530 pesos per dollar. The trick I came up with (and have taught April) is to multiply the 1000s by two to come up with a dollar figure. [For example, 1000 CLP is about $2 US; 15,000 pesos is about $30 US.] This trick also worked in my favor, because I wasn't counting (and thus basically saving) the extra 30 pesos in the conversion. Unfortunately, as the U.S. dollar continues to weaken, the exchange rate is now hovering closer to 450 pesos per dollar, meaning my trick now underestimates the would-be cost in American dollars. Similarly, I am still using a very crude translation for kilos to pounds. The actual conversion is 2.20 pounds per kilo, so by estimating 2 to 1, I'm losing a lot in the translation.

On the theme of shopping, I usually try to relate the most common stores to American counterparts. Generally, in my mind:

Santa Isabel ≈ Safeway

Jumbo ≈ Wal-Mart

Falabella ≈ Macy's

Ripley ≈ JC Penney

Sodimac Homecenter ≈ Home Depot

and so on...

The problem is that the translations don't always accurately convey the situation. For example, I chose the Santa Isabel/Safeway approximation because they both usually serve specific neighborhoods, rather than being long-drive-away stores like Costco or Winco. But one cannot expect the wide aisles and fast checkout of a Safeway in Santa Isabel. No, be prepared to push through people to get where you are going and awkwardly block through traffic as you wait to pay for your food.

Clothes shopping this week presented a challenge because I still haven't found the equivalent of a Ross in this country. And maybe it's just because I don't frequent big cities in the U.S., but I've never been in a Macy's or JC Penney that was four stories tall. It's a bit of overstimulation for me. Not to mention that Viña is crowded, and even in the biggest stores, you still have to follow the same basic principles about personal space territorialism and not be afraid to gently push other people in order to get past them. We decided to start in Ripley because I thought it would be the least intimidating. I was wrong. The first floor was all women's clothes, not sensibly divided by purpose, but rather by designer. So in my search for a work skirt, (-slash- interview skirt, it will hopefully be used for work when I actually have a job) I hypothetically had to browse each collection to find the one or two choices each designer had to offer. I found one cute option, but they didn't have it in my size - extra large gringa - so we decided to move on to the next overcrowded store. I did end up finding what I was looking for, but I also began to realize that I need to change my expectations if I seriously hope to live here. I can't keep pining for a Ross and only do my clothes shopping in the States. I need to man up and learn a new system.

In terms of government, most of the differences are cosmetic here. If you have an emergency in Chile, you have a choice of three phone numbers to call, a different one for an ambulance, the fire department, or the police. I mentally roll my eyes thinking about it: it seems so much more logical to have one centralized call center, one number to remember, etc. But again, I could complain about the system, or come up with a way to properly remember which number is which (or I could just program them into my phone, but that would be too logical). The PDI in Chile (policia de investigaciones) is often compared to the FBI, but I have never seen an FBI truck stop people on the street. Actually, I don't think I've ever seen an FBI vehicle at all, whereas I often see PDI trucks. Watching more student protests on the news, Manuel pointed out his alma mater that was getting some attention for its demonstrations. "But the Santa Maria isn't public?" I asked him. "No," he answered. "Well, sort of. It's kinda public." Kind of public? I mean, "public"universities in the USA act quite like private institutions, but they are also very clearly delineated. In the car yesterday I asked Manuel, "How does the world consider Chile in terms of development?" He says Chile is considered to be on the path to development. Because while they have most of the same institutions as any developed country, they are still working out the kinks and refining the details.

Speaking of student protests... today I witnessed a "cacerola". I believe the word literally translates to casserole, but refers to a pot or other large cooking implement. I heard through the patio doors a rhythmic banging accompanied by (more than usual) car honking. I opened the door and, much to my surprise, Manuel went outside and started banging a broom handle on the railing. [We are lucky the dog isn't easily startled by that sort of stuff. Or maybe he, too, knows that we are in a foreign land and has to adjust to certain things.] When Manuel stopped long enough to check on dinner, he explained that in the old days, people beat their empty pots to protest the lack of food. "Of course, there is food now, but still" the people are indignant about the way the government is being run.

[videos coming shortly]

Manuel says that Chile hasn't seen protests this big since the overthrow of Pinochet. (And he would know because he's just that old.) I have seen televised marches and other sanctioned protests in the U.S., but as April commented, it has a feel of the civil rights era. At least, it has the same feel as the videos we watched in history class. The police officials being interviewed tonight commented that the protests had not been approved as we watched a video reel of water hoses and tear gas. Strangely enough, the thing that put it into perspective for me was watching the news this evening and seeing a student group at a press conference. They had a table and microphones and everything. I'm instantly taken back to my Social Movements class (shoutout Kelley Strawn) and am impressed by the level of organization. This is for real. I joked with April tonight that her study abroad stories are going to be so much cooler than mine, but vanity aside, it is so amazing to be here in a time like this.

A quick change of subject in order to finish this post while I may still be able to claim brevity. My American baking has gotten off to a wonderful start so far. My most popular dish is definitely banana bread. Manuel has passed on compliments from his co-workers, Maria's entire household raved about the pan I sent them, and Diego and David ate an entire loaf between them when they had a hangover. I'm a huge fan of spreadsheets, and have been cost-analyzing various recipes in Excel. If people like my fudge as much as the guests of Manuel's houseparty said they did, I may be able to make money off this stuff! Maybe I won't have to give up my culture entirely to live here. Maybe the idea is to carve out a niche for oneself and adapt what you know to what you are learning.