Wednesday, May 20, 2009

fotos finales



Julie and I together in Santiago!


Aquiles, Rey de la Cordillera
El desierto atacama.
Me, Ximena and Koni at my goodbye at the bus station.
My second goodbye party. Renato-- giving me my certificate. Me-- embarrassed, yet happy. Pedro-- thinking the whole thing is hysterical and holding back tears over my departure. 
Me, Tia and Tio at my final asado at their lovely home. For now.
El Salar de Atacama-- the third largest salt flat in the world. Those are chilean flamencos.
Chuiquicamata: the largest open-pit copper mine in the world! Its 5km long!
Will and Allison in the mountains outside of Mendoza

Algún día volveré.....

I apologize for taking so long to finish up my blog, but its part of a resistance to admitting my travels are over. But according to all available evidence, this seems to be the case. I've been sleeping till 11am, eating lots of Special K and Tropicana OJ, spending my free time garage sale-ing and reading the TU and getting a lot of love/abuse from Moriah. Yup, I'm definitely at home. 

But before I landed here in Delmar, I spent a wooonderful week with my friend Allison in Buenos Aires. Allison was busy but made time to show me ALL the important spots in the big city. It is quite big. We saw a drumming concert, walked around every neighborhood, ate lots of dulce de leche and stayed out at a clubs till 6am (thats what BA is famous for they tell me). On my birthday we went to an INCREDIBLE vegetarian Asian buffet and then a sweet jazz club and a crazy dance club, celebrating with all her friends who I had met in Mendoza. On my last day we took a boat to Uruguay and spent the day at a beautiful bed and breakfast owned by the director of Allison's program. It was there that I had my last asado, which happened to be one of the most incredible asado's of my trip. It was a great way to end my travels and it was so fun to see Allison. I safely made it back to New York last Sunday morning. 

As I was saying before, its wonderful to be home. After four months of always feeling like a foreigner, you can really appreciate a place where everyone speaks your language, eats the same food as you, and understands you in a way that comes only with a common history. On Tuesday I even got to go back to Wesleyan where I arrived unannounced, surprising all my friends. It was so great to see everyone again and to be welcomed back as if the five months hadn't even passed. Anyway I won't bore everyone with too many reflections on my trip and what I learned-- I'll save that for my own diary. But quickly I'll just say that I am proud of what I did during my gran viaje. I learned spanish AND learned to survive chilean spanish, made friends all over, saw a large portion of a beautiful country, was welcomed into a new family and into my office, learned to love Osorno, and to love meat for just a little while and came back with four months of wonderful memories and lots beautiful pictures. 

Plus, I kept an awesome travel blog. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed sharing my travels with me. Now that I'm back in the country you don't need to read about me online, but you can see me for real. So if you want to hear what I edited out of the blog, see some of my pictures, or mostly so I can see you all again, please give me a call. This weekend I'll be at graduation at Wesleyan but I should be home in Delmar/Glenmont/Albany for the whole summer (I'm still looking for employment-- any suggestions!?!?). I think the blog will have to be officially suspended for now. I say suspended because as I told all of my chilean friends, algún día volveré. One day, I'll be back to Chile. Entonces, you can be sure to check in to Rice n' Chile. 

Saturday, May 2, 2009

al otro lado de la cordillera

My last day in Chile was EPIC. Aquiles (who prefers to be referred to as Aquiles, Rey de la Cordillera) showed me a fucking awesome day. It turns out he lives up in the mountains 4 months out of the year as a hiking guide. He took me up a HUGE mountain-- we were at 3000 meters when we parked the car! THIS is the cordillera, he kept telling me. He was absolutely right. I usually say I live near the mountains, referring to the adirondacks, but I will never again refer to the adirondacks as the cordillera. This was some serious mountains. We took the day very slow because of the altitude which was just fine with me. We stopped to have tea twice. Aquiles brought a massive backpack that included a stove, two pots, a bottle of wine, a wine glass, warm clothes for him and for me, comida and even some floss (just in case). Both stopping points were incredibly beautiful and we decided worthy places to spend an hour drinking early grey tea and eating empanadas, palta (avocado) and tomatoes. As we were waiting for our water to boil, we saw a magestic condor fly overhead (chile´s national bird adn the biggest in the world) . We even saw the sunset on the way down and it was one of the most beautiful sunsets that I´ve ever seen. It was the perfect way to end my stay in chile, containg all the necessary ingredients taht have comprised my stay there: empanadas, tecito, random friendship, the kindness of strangers, beautiful scenery and soooo much chilean slang.

After an incredible bus ride through the Andes to cross into Argentina, I made it to Mendoza. All of the border control workers wore face masks and looked at me and my Canadian friend extremely suspiciously. Once they considered that neither of us had touch foot in the northern hemisphere in over 4 months, they realized that the chances of us spreading Swine Flu were pretty low. Although I´ve left Chile, I´m carrying every part of it with me here in Argentina. I still talk with my chilean accent and everyone finds it hysterical. I compare everything that happens to chile and teach my friends chilean slang. I met a charming Argentine man who tried to convince me to switch my heart over to Argentine, but I promised him it would be staying in Chile. Anyway, despite my resistence, Argentina is awesome. I met up with Allison, Suji and a bunch of their friends from BA. The weather here is beautiful, the wine is delcious and the beef is even more so and we´re having great time. Today we´re going to rent bikes a tour a few of Mendoza´s famous wineries. Today is Sujatha´s birthday which means we already celebrated last night, and will continue to celebrate today. My birthday is Tuesday and Rodrigo´s is Wednesday, so its going to be a busy week for me. But what better way to end my adventures than spending a week celebrating in Buenos Aires?

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

mi último día entera en chile

Today is my last full day in Chile. Tomorrow, at about 4pm I will cross the border into the Argentine Andes without immediate plans to return. I´m devastated and in the last few days have been eating lots of empanadas, buying foolish toursity recuerdos and listening to the beautiful chanting of chilean spanish as I walk down the streets, already anticipating the nostalgia. Sigh.

The desert was bakan (chilean slang = fucking awesome). The weather was muder on my body, there were an insane amount of tourists and it was absurdly expensive to buy anything. But it sure is fucking beautiful. This really can only be expressed in pictures, but y´all will have to wait. I went sandboarding en el Valle de la Muerte, saw saturn and the amazing desert stars through a fancy telescope, went to the 3rd biggest salt flat in the world and hung out with chilean flamencos and saw the lagunas antiplanicas. It was all beautiful. After a few days though I was burnt out on San Pedro. I said goodbye to my big comfy hostel room and bought a bus ticket to Iquique. Iquique is a surfing town about 8 hours from San Pedro. I crashed at a great hostel right on the beach and spent two days doing next to nothing. The people in the hostel were awesome so I spent most of my time alternating between lying on the beach, and eating and drinking with my friends in the hostel. It was a nice relaxing break from my busy and exhausting days in San Pedro. Plus, the beaches are sooo beautiful.

I got back to Santiago yesterday in time to meet Javi, a chilena who was an exhange student at Bethlehem, for lunch. We talked about the Sagor house, the Bentley house and what it feels like to be a forigner in Chile, and in the US. She sends her love back to everyone from BC. Then last night Julie and I finally got vegetarian food and it was amaaazing. I moved out of the hippest hostel in the world and moved back into the place I stayed when I first got to santiago four months ago. Just to frame the trip nicely. Its so much better here. Everyone is friendly and relaxed, there is laundry, there is a rooftop deck and the breakfast comes with fruit. Anyway I´ve got to go because I´m waiting for Aquiles to pick me up. My last day in Chile will be spent with a chileno I met who worked at the last hostel (I guess it did have some nice stuff to offer). He claims to be a mountainista and is going to take me to the cordillera for a hike. I have packed an empanada de pino. Obvio.

Although its the end of my stay in Chile, its not quite the end of my blog or my adventure. Tomorrow I get on a bus to Mendoza, Argentina and on Monday I will land in Buenos Aires. Expect to be updated with stories that include famous argentine beef and wine, lots of gringo friends, fun exciting adventures in BA, and some kind of 21st birthday celebration with a combination of old friends, people I´ve met along the trip and probably some perfect strangers.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

una semana de superlativos

So I thought that maybe my last week hadn´t been all that exciting, which is why I hadn´t felt compelled to write a blog entry. After some encouragement from Lee, I decided it was time and in the process I realized I had a week full of exciting (or not so exciting) superlatives.

Hostal Forestal: the hippest hostel in the world. It actually said on the flyer that it was "one of the 5 hippest hostels in the world." I was obviously suspicious, but my German friend who I was traveling with was really excited about it. It was cheap and came with all the necessary ingredients (a comfortable bed, internet, breakfast, storage, a safe-box, a TV so I could watch my novela, 24 hour reception, a printer) but I hated it. There was loud music playing on the bottom floor, crappy breakfast, only english speaking travelers who always came home as I was waking up in the morning, a new person at the desk every day, and generally had no character. Still, I was too lazy to move and stayed all week. Plus, I ended up meeting some people I really liked including a receptionist who offered to be my guide and take me hiking when I come back to Santiago and a really handsome Canadian who wants to celebrate my birthday with me in BA.

Aire Libre: the cooolest cafe in Santiago. I know you´re thinking it will be hard to prove that this is true, but I beg to differ. Sunday night I finally decided I should eat dinner and wandered out of my hip hostel at about 10 to search for something. I ended up walking by myself to Bellavista, a neighborhood full of cool cafes and bars. I wasn´t really planning on sitting down and eating a whole meal by myself but the place just caught me. There were colorful tables, reasonable prices, adorable waitresses, and a lovely man singing classic chilean music with his guitar. I spent an horu and a half enjoying my quiche, my Allende novel, and the live music. The next night, Rodrigo, a guy I met with my family in the south, offered to take me out. I have the cooooolest place, he explained. I got out of his car only to discover he brought me to the safe cafe, but at a different location. I ordered the same quiche and few beers and we sat for hours listening to yet another chileno with a sweet voice and revolutionary chilean music.

El Desierto Atacama: the driest desert in the world. Okay so I don´t actually have the proof to substantiate this one. Somoeone did say it to me, but I feel like it was just a symptom of how chileans like to exagerate about their land. I finally did make it though, and it is pretty dry. I woke up yesterday morning with crackling dry skin, and a weird head ache. NOt only is it dry, but super high up so you need a day to adjust to the altitute. I had lots of pancitos for breakfast and spent most of the day sitting down, and today I feel fine.

Chuquicamata: the biggest open pit copper mine in the world. Now, you wouldn`t think that a copper mine would be a big tourist spot. Honestly, its not because to get there is a bitch. I had to stay overnight in this ugly town, and basically devote my whole day to the tour since it was smack in the middle of the day and becuase there´s nothing else to do in Calama. But Chris insisted it was worth it, so I had faith and waited it out. It was pretty cool. The mine is 5km long, 3km wide and 1km deep. You also get to see the abandoned mining town they built and then abandoned right next to the mine, and the BIGGEST trucks in the world (two superlatives in one day!) that carry all the copper. Not surprisingly, this company produces the MOST copper in the world which ends up to about 1/7 of the world´s production (okay, 3 superlatives).

Sumaj jallpa: the nicest 7 luca dormitory bed I´ve ever seen. My hostal was in a pamphlet of recommended hostels that has not disappointed me thus far. After two warnings from chileans that have a skewed sense of distance that the hostal was too far, I decided to make the 10 minute trek anyway. The adorable woman at the desk apologized and informed me that all the dormitory rooms were taken, but she could offer me something else for the same price. This place is adorable, clean and desert-y and I have a private room including a private bathroom with two beds (one, big one for sleeping and a small one for my belongings). I´m probably never going to leave.

As you can see, everything is good. I hope to spend my next five days in the desert doing a variety of inordinately expensive activities that include some combination of salt flats, sandboarding, archeological tours, 4am geysers and then finally coming home every night to watch my novela and sleep in my big comfy bed.

Me queda muy poco.... (I should be in NY on May 10th).

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

la ciudad de colores brillantes, poesía y cerros

I am in Valparaíso, Chile. Its a two hour ride from Santiago towards the coast. The only thing that is keeping me sane from the tearful parting from Osorno, is the fact that I am completely in love with Valparaíso.

To go back a little, my last three days in Osorno were lovely. The last day was pretty epic. I stopped by the office to drop of a sleeping back I has borrowed and have lunch with my friend Ximena. I planned on saying one last goodbye and then running back home to enjoy my last few hours at home at Los Copihues 1810 before my goodbye bash (read: a feast of carne). Like the last time, it was harder for me to leave than I thought. After a long lunch with a whole group of officemates and an hour of free internet use, I decided it was time. I did my first round of goodbyes on the second floor to the forestales and the agricolas. Me voy, y este vez no vuelvo, I said. I´m leaving, and this time I won´t return. The goodbyes were nice, and not too dramatic. I didn´t have the energy for tears and too much sentimentality. I went down to the first floor to say good bye to Ximena and she wouldn`t have it. No, why do you stay just a little bit longer. I started to get annoyed and then realized she had something up her sleeve. She dragged me to BIGGER with her to get a "snack." When she started buying enormous quantities of food, I realized that this was not just a snack. Despite the fact that they had already planned me a despedida at the office, Pedro had insisted on another one.

At six o´clock (6 hours after my arrival at the office) my party began. I didn´t beleive it was possible, but it was even cuter than the first goodbye. We all stood around in a circle and made lots of "the silly gringa" jokes all together for about an hour. They gave me a certificate for my work at the office and made Renato present it to me, all while they took billions of pictures and chanted KISS HER! KISS HER! Unfortunately all I got was a kiss on the cheek. Embarassing. Eventually I told them I had to go home at catch my bus in a few hours, and I said my final goodbyes to everyone. I promised I would come back and Pedro talked again vaguely about offering me a job. Only if you pay me this time, I insisted.

Then I ran home to find the mesa set one final time for my last meal at home. The in-laws and their son were there and there was a tremendous hunk of meat cooking in the oven. The meal was lovely and we recapped all of the good times together as they appreciated the picture album I made as a going away gift. I ate ravenously, remembering I would never be forced to eat pancitos and carne ever again in my beloved house. We all shipped off in two collectivos to the bus station and my two friends from the office met us there. Talk about dramatic. Imagine me, my huge backpack and ten people all standing around anxiously as we wait for my bus. I almost missed the bus because I had to individually say: te quiero, goodbye and I promise I´ll come back, to everyone. The guy next to me seemed a bit confused as to why I came on to the bus teary-eyed. I slept almost the whole 12 hour bus ride up to the capital and spent the rest of the time looking nostalgically at my hundreds of pictures of my friends and family in Osorno.

Anyway like I said, Valparaíso has enchanted me. It is full of hills, bright colors, cute cafes, great artesanía and poetry. Plus, Pablo Neruda lived here. If you know anything about me, its not suprising why I love it here. I´ve already made plenty of phone calls and sent plenty of cariño in facebook messages back to Osorno, but the enchantment of Valparaíso is pretty good at distracting me from all the wonderful friends and memories I left behind in the south. Plus, there are friends waiting for me here. I met up with Andres and Fabian, the boys I met in Valdivia at the beginning of my trip. They showed me around today in Valpo and tomorrow I´m going to meet them in Viña. Julie is waiting for me in Santiago and up north the Atacama desert is also waiting for me. But even so, I miss Osorno....

Monday, April 13, 2009

el bolson y bariloche en fotos

My second seder was adorable and my 50km (yikes!) bike ride with Bobby was beautiful. I´ve spent the past three days finally saying goodbye to Osorno, and tonight after a big carne celebration I´m off to the bus station. I arrive in Valparaíso tomorrow morning and on friday will meet Julie Munro at the beach! Check out the pictures from my week in Bariloche and el Bolson.....
From Cerro Cathedral outside of Bariloche. One week earlier, this was covered in snow (see below). This day, it was sunny and hot and beautiful.

Victor and I attempted to climb this peak, but the weather wouldn´t have it.



Our very own asado! Our lovely hippie hostal owner in el Bolson helped us buy the cordero and cook it on the parilla. It was a group effort at it was delicious.


El Bosque Tallado-- a burned forrest on the side of a mountain in el Bolson full of beautiful sculptures. I think that girl is in Meredith Lutz´s sorrority at Cornell. Small world....



Hotel Llao Llao. The lunch buffet cost about $80, so we just took pictures. Beautiful, right?




The vista panoramica that we finally arrived at after 4 hours of biking. It was actually that beautiful.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Judìos, Hippies, y la Cordillera

Things outside Osorno are happening a whole lot faster, and its going to be hard to keep up with the blogging. I´ll try my hardest.

I finally made it on the bus to el Bolson with Sandra and Bill (the older couple I met in Bariloche). It was to this point, the best bus ride I´ve ever experienced. There were incredibly large comfy chairs, fleece blankets, wonderful pillows, a full meal including mashed potatoes of course dulce de leche, little bottles of wine, a movie, a friendly argentine man and AMAZING views of tremendous snow-capped mountains. The clouds didnt even get to me-- it was beautiful all the same. Then we arrived in the cutest little town in time for the saturday fair. It was full of interesting crafts (Amy would have been in heaven), lots of slow-talking, long-haired hippies (Noah would have been in heaven) and cheap homemade beer (we were in heaven). I of course ran into Bobby (the guy from Albany who I met in the BA airport and then again in Barioche) and we were happy to see each other. We had some cerveca artesenal and recapped the 24 hours we had spent apart.

He brought me back to the hostel where he was staying. On the way he explained that the hostel was not much cheaper than the ones in Bariloche, didn`t come with breakfast, didn`t have internet, was a bitchy 25 minute walk from town and only provided cheap mattresses on the floor. But its amaaazing, he asssured me. Turns out he was right. I stayed two nights at La Casa de Viajero, a charming ranch owned by a hippie argetine named Augustine and his wife Laura. During those two days we built a family with all the people staying at the hostel (including Bill and Sandra), had a delicious asado that we excecuted ourselves, took a few beautiful hikes and drank a lot of mate. On Monday it was time for me to move on. Chris, an austrailian who has spent 4 months working at jiminy peak and was also living in Chile, traveled with me to back to the touristy mess of Bariloche. We were sad to say goodbye to all our friends. Bobby and I said goodbye (once again) and promised we´d hang out back in the capital region.

On Tuesday the weather was beautiful, as we had expected. Chris and I climbed to the top of the same mountain that Victor and I got blown off of, but this time it was sun and warm. It was a pretty steep hike but we thankfully had an Austrian hiker with us who kept us on our toes (COME ON! ITS GETTING DARK!). We landed back at our hostel exhausted and spent the next day whining about our soreness. After I dropped Chris off at the bus station I walked back into town along the lake and did some thinking. I was invited to an Argentine seder for Thursday night, but passover started that night. Bariloche is absolutely craaawling with israelis, so I decided I was determined to find out what they were up to.

On my way back to my hostel I saw a fast food joint that had hebrew lettering on it. Of course I went in and ordered an empanada and everyone inside was speaking hebrew. I chatted with the israelis to find that there was a chabad house in town giving a seder that night. I decided that even though I wasnt Israeli and hadn`t registered, I was going to work my way into the joint. After a bit of searching and admitting despite my curls and dark skin that I dont speak hebrew, I made it. I arrived to a sports stadium full of hundreds of israelis. Alone, of course. I walked up and down the aisles realizing I had no idea what to do and who to talk to. I detected not a bit of english but recognized a bunch of isrealis I had seen in my travels. They all spoke to me in hebrew, forgetting I was the American one. I finally grabbed a seat with probably the weirdest guy I could find, who I had met in the restaurant earlier. While everyone else is around 22 and just out of the army, my friend was 40 and has been traveling every other year for his entire life. He translated all of the instructions that I couldn`t understand and entertained me during the chaos that was the seder (paradox anyone?). It was really just a lot of screaming and jumping, and ocasionally some bad food that came from large buckets. It was by far the most expensive meal I´ve bought in my travels. It was all a bit overwhelming, but the four glasses of wine helped me relax. I did find a few Argetines who I talked to who were even more lost than me because they didnt even speak english.

I said goodbye to my friends and escaped back to the normal spanish speaking (and english speaking) world of Bariloche. I got back to my hostel only to discover that Bobby and I had not seen the last of each other. He sent me a facebook message saying he was back in town and I ran over to meet him. Today we`ll be doing a mountain biking trip together in Bariloche and talking a lot about the egg, bombers and all the friends in common we have on facebook. Ohhh Albany.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

llllllllllluvia

So Victor and I finally found a time we could meet up and go hiking. After lots of discussion and planning we met up on a bus to Bariloche, Argentina ready to trek, trek and trek. Unforunately our schedules lined up perfectly with lllllluvia. Everyone we met told us: va llover, va llover, va llover, its going to rain. While we were both disappointed by this news, I continued to find it hysterical because of the way argentines pronounce their "ll" sound. Needless to say after a short 48 hours together, Victor is well tired of my giggles. Anyway we decided we would deal valiently with the rain. Why not, right? We were prepared with rain gear, plastic bags and changes of clothes. How bad could it be? It turns out, pretty bad. We took the chair lift up to where our trek was supposed to start to find the first snowfall of the year in Bariloche. Just our luck. The snow was beautiful and it was cold, but the problem was the insane winds. We spent a few hours at the top of the ski mountain running around in the snow, taking pictures of the view (only when the clouds temporarily moved out of the way), sitting by the fire and drinking absurdly overpriced hot chocolate.

Needless to say we finally gave up on our dreams of trekking together, and came back to touristy, rainy Bariloche. Although we didn´t do any hiking, we´ve done plenty of talking. It feels good to be speaking English again and meeting other crazy traveling people. On the bus ride here I met a veryyy talkative chilean woman who kept me busy for the entire five hour ride. She taught me some necesities of argentine spanish and also invited me to her house (a trip hopefully I´ll make near the end of the week). On the same bus ride I ran into Bobby, a brother of a friend of a friend of a friend (so, someone I barely know) who I had met in the Buenos Aires airport on the way here. We cooked steak and cabbagge together and talked about Key club, and upstate new york. Weird. We´ve met lots of friendly and handsome Argentines and I continue to think their accents are incredibly charming and hysterical. I met a cute old black couple from LA a few nights ago in the hostel that I really liked. We spend dinner talking about all the instances that blacks and jews have helped each other out. They are going to set me up with their son, Quincy who is only 15, but apparently very handsome (I think I´ll wait a few years...). This morning we´re going to go to a museum in Bariloche and then head to a town about two hours south of here that promises a market and lots of cute hippie things. I plan on hiding out there where there until the rain stops-- it promises to be cheaper and less crowded with tourists.

Fortunately I have a whole week to kill and the weather is supposed to get better on Tuesday, when I plan on coming back up here and finally doing some hiking until my Passover celebration on Thursday night. Hopefully next time I write I will be tired and smelly from lots of hiking. Depending on the lllllluiva.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

mi fin de

I had a fabulous weekend. Not fabulous in the I´m in Europe and everything is beautiful and historic sense. Fabulous in the I´m in Osorno and life isn´t glamorous but I love it anyway sense.

Friday afternoon I went on a date with a guy named Daniel that I met last weekend. He´s really adorable and we spent a few hours talking about cultural differences, looking at ropa americana (salvation army clothes that somehow end up in Chile for similar prices) eating empanadas and drinking Escudo (chilean beer). He´s adorable and thinks everything I say is facinating. He also tells me over and over that I´m the most beautiful woman in the world and that my spanish is wonderful. Two things, I love to hear even if I don´t beleive them. Then I explained politely that my friends were waiting for me and despite his protests escaped in time to meet up with my friends.

I met up with a girl from the office and some of her adorable friends at the bull in the center of town. After taking a whole series of affectionate pictures with the toro, we headed to a discoteca in town. After a slight scare because I didn´t bring my ID (uhh, I´m 21? duh?) we made it in before midnight which means we don´t have to pay, but the place is completely empty. We gossiped about the office, danced to reggaeton (not until 2am when the dancing starts), and drank more Escudo. Everyone of course picked up a guy (it seems this is the goal of going out) and I successfully ditched several who were too facinated by my foreigness. I made it home at a cool 4am, two hours before Victor (the other student living in the house) would make it to his bed.

After running a few errands on Saturday morning, I spent the whole day hanging out with the family in the house. Eli and I cut up a pair of pants to make a bag (well, mostly Eli) and we all spent the day preparing for the curanto celebration. Curanto is made by cooking clams, mussles, chicken, beef, sausages and potatoes in white wine, onions and cilantro. And yes, you have to eat all of it. It was absoultely as delicious as they had all warned me, and I gulfed down all the ingredients. Javier´s parents, friends and brother came and the whole occasion was delicious and festive.

Of course there was only white wine at the table and after finishing my plate I escaped to the kitchen and gulfed down a huge glass of water. I refilled it and tried to return to my seat. The whole table fell silent and everyone looked at me as if I had entered a synagogue with a ham and cheese sandwhich. WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? They all broke out into a series of warnings about how you absoultely cannot drink water after eating curanto because it will make you sick. I was obviously skeptical, but they were insistent. I poured out my water and returned to my glass of wine. As the conversation turned to a discussion of what other things might make one vomit, I started to panic. Was this beautiful day going to end in disaster? Would I make it to the morning? I called my friend Daniel in search of a second opinion. He only confirmed the chilean belief that I would probably have a very unhappy evening. That was not the news I was looking for. I returned to the table and continued working on my vino tinto until my giggles overcame my worries.

After the meal we spread out into the living room and stayed up drinking and talking. I taught everyone how to play BS and then they taught me the chilean version. I won both games. Turns out I´m a great liar. At around 3:30, Tío ordered that it was time to tell jokes. My "I told you gays know everything" joke went over fabulously. About half the jokes were about Jesus and his apostles. Typical chile. Tío also got a bit too drunk and was giving me an especially hard time all night long. He then got really emotional and told me that he loved me and thought of me as his daughter, which was really adorable. He also kept farting, which I found hysterical but Tía looked a little embarassed/disgusted. The whole night was really fun and we finally went to bed around 5am. By some miracle, or maybe because of the curanto, I was able to sleep in until noon today. I went for a rainy run only to be welcomed back by more curanto. Yummm. This time I drank coke instead of water, and remembered happily that I had survived the deadly curanto-agua combination.

Friday, March 27, 2009

"¡Te queda poco!"

You´ve only got a little bit left! Tío reminds me at least twice at every meal. Te queda poco.

Well despite the fact that he´s annoying, he´s correct. I´m wrapping up at all ends. I´ve finished all of my work at the office and now spending the rest of my time bothering my colegas and taking advantage of free internet to plan my voyage. The past week hasn´t been filled with too much work anyway. I´ve recently assumed the role of party planner for the office. Monday I spent the afternoon buying and preparing completos (uber decked out hot dogs, a chilean delicacy) for a goodbye celebration for my friend Koni. Then Wednesday I spent all afternoon decorating and preparing for a surprise birthday celebration for my jefecito. My officemates have discovered the convience of my disposable labor. Little did they know that organizing social events is my expertise. Fortunately, the celebrations continue on this week. Last night was Javier´s birthday and we sang and ate torta together and we are going to celebrate on Saturday by making a curanto (a dish that includes various kinds of seafood and carne that you cook in white wine). Tonight, I´m going out to the disotecas with the girls in the office to celebrate my departure. And next Friday they´ll have a despedida celebration for me in the office. All of this includes an incredible amount of cerveza, torta, dancing, facebook pictures and energy. But what a way to go out, right?

Tuesday will technically be my last day in the office and in the afternoon I plan on shipping out to Argentina. Unfortuantely I kept pushing back my trip to Bariloche and now its going to be soaked in rain. But I have no choice because I need to update my visa. I´m not sure how much the place has to offer in the rain, so I´ll try and find a really cozy hostel. At least I´m getting out of here before the rainy season. It would really suck to be here without any sunshine. Anyway I´m going to get back to my other tasks. I plan on writing a whole slew of mushy notes to my friends in the office and making some sort of gift for the family. I´m planning on making my boss cry, and hoping that Tía doesn´t cry too much. Sometimes it seems like my life is just one big series of goodbyes. But as always, its nice to leave a place knowing your presence mattered and you will be remembered and missed.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Cara de sueño

Hellooo friends. So I learned this week that the chilean equivalent of "aww you look tired" is "you have a sleepy face." And its an equally as irritating thing to hear. Especially when you don´t feel that great. For some reason all week I´ve been feeling kind of lazy and tired, despite the fact that I´ve been sleeping a solid 8 hours a night or more. And allll week everyone has been telling me I´ve got a cara de sueño. Sigh. Despire feeling a bit sick, I´ve had a nice week. A bunch of things happened that made me feel like I´ve gotten somewhere after all this time here.

On Monday morning I gave my office their first sociology class. After struggling to gather together all the different componentes into one room, I talked for a half hour about the definition of sociology, neoliberal policies and how they are fucking up Latin America, and how we can design better ones. This obviously presented a challenge for many reasons. My officemates have little to no experience talking about sociology or any social science, I am still learning spanish, I don´t know allll that much about the subject, and I´m obviously the youngest one in the office. Somehow, it all turned out okay. My presentation was full of pictures, and jokes and diagrams and everyone seemed to be interested. The class ended with a quiz which not only produced laughter (ex: True or false: sociology is fun!), but inspired an interesting discussion (can we ever escape the evils of neoliberalism?). Everyone enjoyed it, including my boss and I´m in the process of preparing another presentation for next Monday. Woo hoo!

Yesterday I went to a meeting in a community with the forestales. I wanted to try and advance the idea of founding a library in this community. I had already befriended and talked to the President and was hoping that she would talk to me a little more. Unfortunately she couldnt make it to the meeting and hadn´t talked to anyone about the idea yet. One of the women informed me that she was planning on bringing up the topic that day. I was mildly paniced that the president wasn´t there to guide me, but I moved on with my plan anyway. After Renato finished talking about his tema, I interrupted and said I had something to talk about. I explained to the whole group what I had been doing with Comapu el Solar (where we founded the first library) and that I wanted to know if they were interested in the same sort of project. In the middle of my speech, Renato and Ricardo (the guys from my office) burst out laughing because I used a classic "chilenismo" that they found HYSTERICAL. But the group listened intently and liked my idea. They are going to try and build a bookshelf and we are going to bring them some books!

Also, someone stopped me on the street earlier in the week to ask for directions. My first reaction was to tell them I was a gringa and I would be unable to help. When they asked where the bus station was, I realized with pride that I could indeed give them directions. I calmly explained with my gringa accent where it was, and they thanked me. I guess I´m not as useless as I thought....

Me and the chicas from the oficina had a nice get together on Thursday night. We ate pizza (with ham, obviously) and drank bebidas (soda, obviously) and gossiped about our colegas. We also watched my favorite novela which also happens to be the favorite novela of everyone in Chile. We took a few pictures, laughed a lot, and Ximena even gave me a bookmark that had a note on the back telling me I was always welcome to come back to my home in Osorno. It was fun, I followed most things that happened and I realized that I had indeed made friends who knew me and understood me despite the cultural and linguistic barriers.

I also realized I´m obsessed with chilean spanish. Its so adorable and ridiculous. I´m practicing using the word huevón (idiot/friend/testicle/every other word out of every man´s mouth) as much as possible. I bought myself a diccionario de chilenismos and every free second, I study up. Last weekend when I went to Chiloé, another foriegner told me I talk like a chilena. I´m a little afraid that no one in the US will understand me, but my colegas are proud of what they´ve taught me.

And finally, I bought myself a new wallet (a long overdue purchase) that says Osorno, Chile on it. Its awesome. I also bought a bunch of Osorno and Chile postcards. These purchases made me realized that despite the fact that everyone continues to remind me how ugly Osorno is, I kind of love it.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Día de castigo

So yesterday I was determined to nail down some details for my remaining time in Chile. I marched in to my bosses office first thing in the morning and told him that I was thinking about leaving a bit earlier so I could have time to travel. Plus, I´m not doing much anyway, right? Absoultely wrong. Pedro panicked. He started his usual strange routine where he mumbles a lot and I can´t quite distinguish when he´s making a joke, and when he´s serious. He kept assuring me that there were "hartas pegas" (TONS of work) for me in the oficina and that I had to fulfil my full time here (which by the way was never establish. not fair, Pedro). Anyway in the middle of the panic he started joking around about punishing me instead of giving me a goodbye party and then demanded that I go out to terreno (the field) with the agriculture boys. This wasnt much of a punishment to me since the agriculture component is undoubtedly my favorite and days out in the campo are always fun. Ruben informed me we wouldnt be coming back until very late, but I shrugged it off. And off we went....

The first leg of the trip included a charla (chat or workshop) about compost in a community that I had visited once before. This was exciting because I looove talking about compost. Ruben is a great teacher and his workshop was really fun. He made me introduce myself in the beginning and the group was obviously excited to have a giggly gringa in their presence. I became sort of the comic relief and Ruben made constant references to me teaching the class, and whatever else came to mind. I even was able to help (mostly reinforcing what the packet already said) and asked a few questions. Then, came lunch. I was served a big piece of meat and a cup of Nescafé (instant coffee, the only kind of coffee in chile) without being asked if I like either of those things (obviously I donçt, but in Chile Ï pretend to). I valiently ate both along with freshly baked bread with home grown honey, as we entered into the ultimate intercultural exchange. They drilled me with the usual awray of gringa subjects (how did I learn spanish, how long is the flight, dont you miss your family) and then branched off into some more interesting ones. My favorite part was when la presidenta assured me that I shouldnt feel lonely because I was indeed with family: we all come from the same Padre. Super adorable. They were all obviously excited to have me there, and asking if I would remember this when I went back to New York. They insisted that when I go home, I tell my friend about sipping maté with the Mapuche. They are very proud of being Mapuche. One woman told me about encountering a lion alone in the words and another many explained his honey business to me. I was given a small cup perfect for maté by the presidenta, and we agreed to see each other soon. After a few hours, we decided it was probably time to move on.

Next Ruben and I went to another community to pick up a man named Victor Catalán. Basically we had been roped in to being a farefree taxi service for the day which sounded like a castigo, or punishment, but we both loved it. Along the way we picked up a series of old women waiting by the side of the road (cars are far and few between in these parts). The last woman we picked up happened to live in the community we were going to, and we got along really well. She only had one tooth and I could honestly barely understand her, but we clicked anyway. She explained to us where we had to go and invited us up her driveway. We got distracted and sat down and she told me her lifestory. She kept telling me that since I was young, I should take advantage of every minute. We joked about my castigo and searched for berries and flowers. We shared a few platanos and nectarinas, and wasted away the hours that we had until Victor was ready to be picked up. We finally decided it was time to go, but she somehow convinced us to come see her house. She showed off her high school diploma, her artesanía, and her adorable house. We took a few pictures and she informed me I was invited to come back anytime.

Finally we met up with Victor and set off to take him back to his town, which just so happened to be at the end of the fucking world. He told me about a mysterious ghost called a Trauco which was kind of like a fantom boyfriend that wouldnt go away. I informed him I was interested in taking this fantom back to New York with me. We finally arrived at his house just as the sun was setting. He lives at the top of a hill and has a fabulous view of the entire valley that we had just driven across. It was beautiful. We refused his offer for more Nescafé and decided to get on the road. A short woman dressed in bright colors that he called Tía (not necessarily his aunt) came out of the house with two big buckets of berries and hopped in the car. She informed us she was going to Osorno and we laughed at our good luck. The ride back (about two hours long) was dark and we were sleepy. We ate smushed cheese and bread and sang along to the radio to keep overselves awake). When we finally arrived in Osorno, we had to schlep the big buckets of berries wayyyy to far and halfway through I lost myself in laughter: this was the punishment intended for me all alone. After a slight scare that we would never rid of this woman and her berries, her friend let her into her house. I made it back to my house at 10:30 and thanked Ruben for the best punishment I could have imagined. Of course, Tía was waiting for me with sopa and pancito.

Monday, March 9, 2009

fototitos


Castro, Chiloé


my dream house....


Murder attempt #23. I´m sure it was meant with cariño....



Noah: king of the jungle.




on top of volcano Villarica.




oh the magic of chiloe.....




the whole family: Victor from france, Victor from carolina del norte, Mark from London, me, and la gringita from Boston. Our cheap oh-so-delicious bottle of wine and our delicious rice and chili dinner.







¡Chile!

Sunday, March 8, 2009

¿Sientes la magía?

So I finally made my mother happy and spent a weekend traveling with other gringos. Unfortunately it makes for a less exciting blog entry. Still, I had a great time. I met up with Victor, my friend from wes who just arrived to study in Valdivia, and Aeron, the other gringa living in Osorno. We went to Chiloe-- an island a few hours south of Osorno. There has been a lot of build up for Chiloe. Chileans LOVE Chiloe. But when you ask why, you undoubtedly always get the same answer-- its full of magic. We accordingly spent the whole weekend searching for such magic. I didn`t see any miracles, but it is a very lovely place. Its famous for its old churches, cute shingled houses, seafood, and beautiful countryside. We spent a lot of time on buses and ferries, just watching it all go by. Luckily there was beautiful weather the entire weekend. It was great to have people to discuss all the craziness of chile with, and review grammer tenses together. It was strange to finally be stared at like a gringa, because of my ostentacious laughter surrounded by english conversation. Pero vale la pena de estar con amigos.

We met a typical array of strange travelers from all corners of the earth. On Saturday night we stayed a hostal by the beach all the way in the south of the island run by a crazy Canadian man named Carl. After we finally escaped his history and politics lesson ("Im an important man in this town" he told us), we immidately met the other two travelers staying next door. There was Mark, the middle-aged man from London. And Victor, an 18 year old from France. They had both been dumped by a girlfriend and best friend respectively, and accidently got stuck traveling alone. Not surprisingly, they were happy for some company. We collaborated on ingredients and made ourselves a delicious meal of-- yup you guessed it-- Rice and Chili. It was vegetarian and delicious. We all talked in Spanish (though none of us native spanish speakers) because Victor could not for the life of him understand my tipsy, excited, giggle-filled english. We talked about learning languages, the frustrating life of vegetarians in chile, and shared other traveling stories. It was good to be with other wanderers for a while, but I´m glad to be back in Osorno with the family.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Por fin.

Ay! My sincerest apologies. After my umpteenth complaint I decided to finally buck up and blog (enjoy your birthday present, Danimal!). Once its been too long its harder to write because so muc has happened. I´ll make a list, because that usually makes me calmer. Whenever I get overwhelmed here I make to do lists. I have nearly a whole notebook full of them.

- Tema uno: the greenstein´s kicked chile´s ass. We had a faaabulous week that included climbing a volcano, a whole series of waterfalls, lots of seafood, empanadas de carne, and wine (for Noah too, a full adult in Chile), natural hot springs, ten hours on horseback (ouch, but worth the pain), lots of scary dirty roads, and tonnnns of translating. The lastbit of our trip was especially ridiculous. A gringo couple who lived 11 years in south africa took us 5 hours into the wilderness on horses (who had never gotten on a horse until 7 months beforehand) with a crazy old german couple and an adorable girl from new zealand who hadn`t been home in 4 years. We landed at an amazing spot called la junta in time for a beautiful hike, a great waterslide, and a lamb asado (freshly killed). It was fabulous.
- Tema dos: another ridiculous weekend with Renato. My friend from the office (the same one who took me to Futrono about a month ago) invited me to come to his house for his 30th birthday asado. In case you are wondering-- much to everyone´s surprise and disapointment, we remain to be only friends. The town he lives in is absolutely beautiful and his parents librería is awesome and mostly devoid of book. All of his 30 year old friends from high school came from all over the country for the grandest asado Ive ever seen (both lamb, and cow and tons of Pisco). They were equally as amused by my age as on the last trip, and even more gracious and friendly. It was a great weekend and I´m exhausted (yes, two nights staying up till 6am). Luckily, we´re having another asado tonight with the office.
- Tema tres: la oficina. I feel like I havent talked about work in a while. My job has turned out to me being Pedro`s apprentice. The director of the project is also a sociologist (I`ve given up, I now identify as a sociologist) and we`ve develoed a lovely little relationship. I finally understan all of his mumblings and most of his jokes. He gives me sociology readings about the end of capitalism, the camesino economy, and goals for rural development. Then we chat about it and I write him summaries. Im also still working on the whole book thing, and now Im making a flyer about taking care of the environment to put up in community centers. I also spend lots of time hanging out, writing emails, and day dreaming. Which is fine by me.
- Tema cuatro: friendship. I´ve befriended the only other gringa living in Osorno. Obviously that demographic is enough to bring us together. She´s been having some troubles ajusting an I miss taking care of everyone so its a good combination. We go for walks in the afternoons and we buy her chocolate (her family is on a diet, not like mine). She isnt accoustomed to doing much by herself and hasnt traveled yet. I plan on changing her ways. We`re going to Chiloe on Friday and we are both very excited about it. In other news, Victor arrived in Valdivia. He might join us. The impending doom of the winter is biting at all of our heels, so we´re all going to try and travel before the rain hits us.
- Ultimo tema: loose ends. What else? I have to decided how much longer to stay in Osorno (at the most, one more month) and then what I´ll do next. I generally have a bunch of ideas of places I want to go (santiago, patagonia, atacama, BA) and friends I want to see (I´ve been collecting facebook friends at an alarming rate). Next week I should probably work on it, esecially if I want to make it down to the end of the eart before it gets too cold. Somedays I feel like I can finally speak a bit of spanish, but some days its still very frustrating. I have a profound apreciation for anyone who has learned to speak a new language fluently. It is so difficult. My family is great. Eli got a job and Sofi starts kindergarden tomorrow. Tío still sleeps all day. They all still call me la gringa fresca. I´m also starting to be a peace with my short hair. Somedays I miss home, but fortunately I´ve become really good at using skye. Anyway all is well. My trip is half over, which is scary. But I feel good. And I think I will be ready to come home in May.

Thanks for reading....

Friday, February 20, 2009

we`re down with emily and the people of chile

Hello all you riceandchile fans.

Amy, Noah, Moriah and I have entered Sarice`s (nee Emily) virtual and real Chilean world. Watching Emily fluently walk us through Chilean culture is teriffic. She can really speak the language and is clearly one popular gringa. Chilean people are enthralled with an American who speaks the language. And she really leans into the conversations with a lot of hand gestures and pauses and feeling and appropriate accents. Although ordering for five of us from a spanish only restaurant is a workout for her, Chile is a real difficult place when she is not around as English speaking Chileans are a rare comodity (imagine me driving with Noah and Moriah and getting stopped by the policia for going the wrong way on a one way - `criminal defenso abagoda` did not go over like I thought it might).

Chile is a real interesting country - sparsely populated, not a lot of roads, excellent food, and amazing natural beauty. After three days in the touristy paradise of Pucon (hiking, hot springs and volcano climbing), we will be having lunch with Emily`s Osorno family tomorrow. Should be great.

Quick story. So Emily, Moriah, Noah and I showed up late and underdressed at 6:45 am for the snow-capped volcano hike this morning. The imposing guide leader asked if our trip was arranged by a certain fancy hotel, which it was. And when Emily, in shorts, tried to smooth it over with her Spanish charm, the guide replied, `We like the people at your hotel to explain to the guests that they are climbing a volcano, not spending a day at the bitch`. We assumed he meant beach and let it pass. We all got over it as all of the guides were soon loving the spanish speaking Gringa. We had a SPECTACULAR 4200 foot climb up an 8000 foot volcano. It was real difficult going up, but down involved being supplied with apendages for our pants and sliding 1 1/4 miles on the snow on our butts.

I must move and not hog the blog. If given a guest pass again I will talk to you all again.

Thats all now from

Padre de riceandchile

Monday, February 16, 2009

¡fotos!

now THAT is what i call an asado.
Las Mujeres: la mamá de javier, mi tía, la gringa, Eli, la sofi (la cumpleanera), yani, y la Kami



Nico and I both got our hair cut. His used to be a lot longer. We both feel a little naked.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Notas sobre un país ancho

More weird things chilean:

- Supermarkets. I´ve aleady commented on the fact that everything related to food is ridiculous in Chile, but it all still amazes me. There are SO many supermarkets in Osorno. And they are all HUGE with ridiculously big ugly signs. They have weird english names: Bigger, Lider, Jumbo. I have many times walked into a supermarket to get food but gotten overwhelmed by all the aisles and kiosks and people and abandoned ship. The worst part about it, is that the tremendous size does not amount to any sort of variety. There are large quantities of everything, but only in one brand and one flavor. Por ejemplo there will literally be HUNDREDS of cans of coffee, but only Nestea instant coffee because it is the only kind of coffee that chileans drink. There is nothing whole grain, tons of alcohol, but only sugary concentrated juices. Renato has promised me that somewhere there is real OJ, but I´ve searched everytime I´ve gone into a supermarket and found nothing.
- Terms of endearment. Every woman is Negrita (litte dark skinned one) according to her husband and having dark skin is not a prerequisite for such a nick name. Every husband is referred to as Viejo (old man), except for Javier whose wife pretty much excusively calls him Guatón (refers to his tummy). Strangers are called Huevón (somewhere between buddy, and asshole) or Flaco. If you are every mildly chubby, almost everyone will call you Gordito. Other women call me Niñita (little girl), Fea (ugly, but with love) or Gringita. Mamita is a term that I have been called many times by men drivng by when I run in the afternoon, the guy I met in Valdivia, but also by friendly older women. Confusing?
- Facebook. According to the national newspaper, proportionally, more chileans are connected to facebook than anywhere else in the world. Facebook membership in chile has expanded 2000% since last year. This explains why I already have tons of chilean friends on facebook and have already been tagged in a variety of pictures. Weird.
- Mañosa. I eat every dish my Tía cooks, even if it involves meat. I always clear my plate of every crumb. I have finally given in and come to every meal, and always tell her that everything I eat is absoultely delicious. Still, not a meal goes by where I am not referred to as la gringa mañosa. Mañosa means finicky, and is one of chileans´ favorite words. Samantha tells me that its meant with cariño (affection), but it still drives me crazy. Last night I ate and enjoyed a ton of asado de cerdo (pork grilled over a fire). I don´t think it will sway their opinions on my title of mañosa.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

¿Cortaste tu pelo?

Sooo it was time for a haircut. Every shower I battled with my curls to get out all the knots and was consequently going through about a pound of conditioner a week. As I was explaining to my host mother, everything activity is an adventure for me here. Showering, buying food, getting around, making friends, and every other activity necesary for daily life. It always involves more maneuvering than I originally expect, and of course a whole lot of translation. Well my haircut was no different. On a rather bland tuesday, I decided I was up for the adventure.

I started my investigation at lunch. I inquired how much I should pay for a haircut. They told me about 5 or 6 lucas (1 luca = 1,000 chilean pesos, 6 lucas = about ten dollars). This seemed expensive for Chile. Well, we only pay like $1500 pesos, explained my host mom. I was getting a little worn out of stuff like this. I had been explaining the price differences from Chile to the US, and my family had started to get the picture. I could buy whatever I wanted. Well, I have never been one to pay top price for a haircut, in whatever currency. I informed my family I was not interested in a fancy haircut, I just wanted it a little shorter. 1500 pesos would do me just fine. Perhaps, this was my first mistake.

After work I walked towards Calle Patricia Lynch, where I was informed there are a variety of peluquerias. The first one looked just as good as any other. It looked pretty sketchy (or in spanish, flighter) but that somehow didn´t deter me. I was assigned a cross-dressing hairdresser and I was so excited about it. I told him to just cut it a little so it was less messy, and to put in layers. Exactly the instructions I always give when I got to Choices. Dominic and I get along great. When I was modest about my spanish skills, he assured me that at least he could understand me. Thanks, buddy. We chatted about how ugly Osorno is, how homosexuality doesn't bother either of us, and how he really prefers straight hair to curly hair. Fifteen minutes later, I realized that my hair had gone through a drastic change. Its pretty much just curls all around my head, none of which fall more than an inch away from my scalp. Im pretty much always in a delicate emotional state here, and the whole affair threw me for a bit of a loop. It was quite a dramatic change, that I was not anticipating. In my state of panic, I bought a variety of hair supplies on my way home.

Now all I wanted, was for someone to tell me that I looked great. Unfortunately, my host family usually takes the making fun of my route, so I was no hopeful. Just as I expected, they thought the whole situation was hysterical. They now refer to me as a little boy and keep asking me jokingly if I cut my hair. The people in the office also found the whole thing funny, and reprimanded me for chosing such a sketchy location. But in general, they were more encouraging. Three days later, its growing on me. Danielle helped me realize some of the benefits of short hair (less shampoo and generally less maintenance, feeling really badass, attracting lots of bisexuals, etc) and of course it will grow back soon anyway. I´m still in the process of purchasing lots of new acessories that I never before found useful, since a ponytail is out of the question. Im still generally pretty surprised everytime I look in the mirror. I just hope my mother doesn´t kill me when she arrives on Tuesday. Im sure that Moriah will hate it, but then again they are both very critical of every one of my fashion decisions (not that this was a concious decision...), so it shouldn´t get to me too much. Pictures to follow...

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

el alemán y su mapa

I haven`t written in a few days because I´ve been staring at my computer a lot at work this week, but that doesn`t mean I didn`t have a traveling weekend full of ridiculous stories. Anyway I´m actually at work now, but kind of pissed at the office so I´m going to start being productive after I write about my weekend.

After plans to go hiking with a friend fell through, I decided at the last minute to hop on a bus to Puerto Varas. Puerto Varas is the Lake George that I thought I was visiting when I went to Puerto Octay (the one with the empty hostel). Its on the same lake but on the other side, and LOADED with tourists. All I wanted to do this weekend was to do a little hiking. My plan was to arrive in Puerto Varas on saturday afternoon and find a hiking activity for Sunday. As predicted, there was an extensive tourist info center (they have on in every city in Chile) that was full of books of guided adventure tours. After a frustrating 45 minutes looking through books to find that no one was answering the phone, and all the tours were foolishly expensive, I decided to find my hostel. The hostel was the answer to all my prayers. It was cute and colorful and the woman at the desk talked to me in spanish even though I know she spoke english. Little did I know that it would also be the source of all of my entertainment for the weekend. After settling down in my colorful bed, I asked the woman at the desk for advice for a day of hiking. She informed me there was a German guy named Marcos who used to be a guide, and he would know exactly what to do.

She pointed me outside where there was a punkish looking guy (think Teddy Lyttle, circa 7th grade) dressed in all black with a bandana around his neck, drinking a beer. You used to be a guide? I asked. What? It was quite common for people to not understand me and my accent sometimes, so I continued on to the next question. Do you have any ideas of what I should do tomorrow? Sure, he told me. Canyoning. Canyoning is some silly outdoor adventure thing where you pay a company a lot of money and then you put on a wet suit and slide down waterfalls. OR something like that. I was not interested in this activity, but it seemed to be all he could offer. Instead of useful information, he offered me a beer and I obviously accepted. One beer and a half hour later, we were buddies. Him and his friends seem to have just graduated from college, and had bumming around Puerto Varas for over a month. He said I spoke spanish well, and I understood him without a problem (this always makes me like someone). After we finished out beers, he invited me to spend the afternoon with his friends.

Hey, do you want to hang out with us for the afternoon?

Uhhh what are you going to do?

SKATEBOARD.

Uhhh, I totally would, but unfortunately I didn´t bring mine.

Oh well we have extras.

Yeah but I don`t know how.

But we´ll teach you!

Uhh, I think I´m going to go lay on the beach.

Hahaha. I thanked him for the beer, and went to do some more research about where to find a nice walking trail. I found a map and some information on where to hike and spent the afternoon laying on the beach and bumming around town. I ran into my friend who had picked up some more skateboarding buddies. We picked up some supplies at the supermarket (more beer) and went back to the hostel. As I was hanging out and enjoying their company, I considered why I had been told that he was a german tour guide, when he seemed to be neither german, nor have any information about the area. As I was considering this, I heard my friend say that Marcos was on his way back to the hostel. Marcos? ¿Cómo te llamas tú? I asked him. Javier. Hahha. I lost myself in my typical bought of giggles and they all looked at my like I was insane. I explained the mix up and they joined me in my laughter. You can´t complain, he argued, I offered you a beer!

Later, a tall germanic look man named Marcos showed up, and was the answer to my dreams. He immidiately took control of my handy red notebook and drew me a serious of maps with options for trails to take (wonderfull reminiscint of a map a man from Alabama drew me to help me and Jacob and Seth find a castle in the golan heights-- informative, but not to scale). He gave me directions on how to get there, landmarks along the way, and time estimates for each section. The next morning I woke up bright and early and took the hour long bus ride to Petrohue upon his suggestion. This led me to another lake that was more isolated than the first, and surrounded by beautiful mountains and volcanoes. I spent the day walking a few trails between two volcanoes, and then wandering around the beautiful beach (where I took my first chilean butt picture with the self-timer on my camera, now don`t know how to explain it to my chilean friends when I show them my pictures). I felt like I was mostly all alone all day, but much to my surprise when I returned to Petrohue in the afternoon I found it also to be bustling with english-speaking tourists. I stopped on the way back at the Saltos of Petrohue which were overpriced and overrun with tourists, but very beautiful. Another very successful weekend....

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Un comentario sobre el machismo chileno

Ok so I´m not going to lie. I was terrified of Chilean machismo. Yes, partially because I am traveling all alone as a woman, but mostly because I was afraid it would just be too much of a shock to my system. I was afraid that angry feminist me was going to come to the surface. I read travel books galore that warned me to be careful, but promised that Chile wasn´t as machista as most of the other countries in Latin America. Still, I was frightened. I was coming from Wesleyan. Chileans probably wouldn`t take to well to an angry gringa. Well, it turns out to not be so terrible. Only occasionally does the angry feminist me come out.

First off, Chilean woman are pretty tough. The president of Chile is a woman, and she seems pretty tough. Supposedly the number of women that participate in economic activity outside the home is still pretty low, but I have a feeling that that is changing with the next generation. Women in general do better in school than men (surprise, surprise), and are entering the workforce in greater numbers. As I learned from the loca I met in Valdivia, the angry jealous thing can be a definite reality. And they love their control. My office is basically controled by a group of bossy women (there is a boss of every componente, and they all happen to be women). The director is also a woman and although I love her, she can only be described as a raging bitch. She is always bossing everyone around. Last week at lunch she nearly slapped out waiter because her salad wasn`t as big as mine, and because her empanadas de queso were cold.

Although the women in my office don`t mess around, they don`t stray much outside of their place as women. They hang out together, are all adorable and feminine, and never talk about sports. Last week when we moved all of our stuff to our new office, none of them lifted a finger. I made up for their lack of effort by insisting on lifting desks and chairs up and down flights of stairs. This was clearly an unexpected move, and I had to sustain a whole strain of "look at the Cereza" jokes, along with none of the men actually beleiving that I was capable of helping. Are you sure you´re okay? SÍ, I insisted, No soy niña.

As I´ve mentioned before, chilean men never hesitate to show a woman attention on the streets. Most days it doesn´t bother me, but from time to time the angry feminist me wants to knock a few heads together. The thing is that every man I´ve ever met has treated me with immense respect, and the cat-calls have never advanced to anything more. This might have to do with the threat of the tough women. The cat-calls make sense only because chile is oozing with sex in everyawy. Heterosexual sex, obviously. Homophobia is around I´m sure, but i haven´t run into any myself. Its more that homosexuality exists merely as a joke, a possibilty on television and in books, and not as a part of everyday reality. But anyway wherever you go, there are heterosexual couples. In the supermarket, in restaurants, and definitely making out in parks. One reason it sometimes feels strange to be alone is because everyone else is always holding hands. All the couples I have met seem to be desperately in love. Plus, abortion is illegal and there are tons of babies. So if you get pregnant, you´re stuck with motherhood. Its still social unacceptable to be a single mother, so you`re also stuck with a husband. I think its pretty unusual that most of the people in my office are in their upper 20s and older and don`t have children.

I have heard time and time again the joke that the woman who is the one that needs to take control of her husband. But thats the thing-- is it real, or is it a joke? I saw an apron yesterday that said: "¡Aqui mando yo! ¿Y qué hago ahora mi amor?" (translation: I´m in charge here! What do I do next, dear?). I´m assuming this was meant for a woman, and it kind of describes the tension that I´ve seen. Its sort of a facade of control, but the men still pull all the strings. For example, the señor of my household absolutely does not eat unless his wife serves him. This is partially due to his incapability to do anything at all, but thats another story. His daughter often makes jokes about bossing around her husband, but makes his lunch for him everyday and it seems to be a no-brainer that she stays home, while he goes to work.

Traveling as a woman has been continually surprising to everyone, but no one as given me any trouble. I have not been held back from anything I wanted to do, and I mostly don`t feel threatened. Chile is certainly not Wesleyan, but its not too bad. Still, there are definitely places that would make me angrier. Actually I felt perpetually more threatened traveling alone in Israel, especially in Arab neighborhoods where women are mostly confined to the home. In general the concern (if there is concern at all...) seems to be focused on gender equality, and not too much on challenging gender roles. This is clearly not too surprising. Anyway this is one month in, so these are just initial observations. After 3 months more, I should have a more complete picture.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Bien Acompañada en Valdivia

Before I was about to leave for my trip to Valdivia, a nearby city, I recieved the usual doubts from my family. You`re really going alone? Tía came to my rescue with a chilean dicho : Mejor andar sola que mal acompañada. Its better to travel alone, than with bad company. Exactly, I told your. Finally she was starting to understand. Well, it turns out I wasn`t much alone in Valvidiva. I decided to buy a ticket on the Reina Sofia, a boat that takes a six hour tour around the beautiful rivers of Valdiva, serving lunch, dinner, and stopping twice on a island and in a small town with a historic fort. I bought the cheaper tickets downstairs, and as the boat took off I was concerned that I might be in for a rather dull 6 hours. Was it really a good idea for me to come to Chile all alone?

Well I didn`t have too long to be worried because ten minutes into a voyage, a friendly young chilean came over and started talking to me. Even for friendly Chileans, he was absurdly friendly. But he wasn`t creepy and didn`t seem to be hitting on me, so I went with it. Within the first 15 mintues of conversation he took a picture of us together, invited me to sit upstairs with him and his friends, and invited me to hang out with them later that night. Hahah. I was a bit overwhelmed by his quick friendship, but I soon fell in love with him (in a friendly sort of way of course). In this initial conversation he also explained how he wanted to move to Spain where they were more open minded about things, like homosexuality. I explained that I, a Wesleyan student, was very comfortable with homosexuality. Oh, so I can show you my real self, he responded. I thought I had finally met my first openly gay chilean! How exciting! Well it turns out Andrés isn`t actually gay, just open minded. This suited me just fine. I spent all six hours on the boat with Andes and his friends. Mostly I hung around him. I had my first conversation about questioning gender with him, and it was great. He laughs too often, just like me, and we have a lot in common. He also spoke slowly and we were able to communicate with ease. His friends were also really nice. They were all from Viña del Mar (12 hrs north) on a weeklong vacation in Valdivia. They welcomed me into their table and their lives.

The boat tour itself was really nice. It was a beautiful day without a cloud in the sky. We stopped twice and two beautiful little towns and ate a huge lunch of seafood and fish. I took lots of pictures and wandered back and forth between our inside seats to the terraces on the front and back of the boat. I caused a whole ton of confusion amongst the waitresses because I moved my seat, but they didn`t seem to mind too much. By the end of the day, there was no question that I would continue on my evening with my new friends. I went back to their rented cabins and we relaxed for a while outside. We bought necessary supplies for the evening (cerveza, coke and rum) and sat down to play cards. We played the Chilean version of Uno (mostly the same as our version) and I taught everyone how to play bullshit. This was fun for me not only because its a fun drinking game, but because I got to hear them all scream "bullshit!" with their silly chilean accents. I had a really great time. I felt for the first time like a full member of the conversation, and didn`t have any trouble keeping up with stories, jokes, and conversation. Our final drinking game consisted of us picking important topics, and discussing. We had a bunch of really interesting conversations on the topics of religion, friendship, politics and sex. It was fabulous.

When we were sufficiently drunk, we heading to a nearby discoteca. I had a great time dancing and laughing with my new friends. Everything was too perfect to be true. And thats when I ran into problems... I had been dancing with Fabian, one of Andres` friends. Unfortunately, Soledad, on of the girls in the group, had a terrible crush on Fabian and didn`t take our flirtations too well. She got angry and spent a good portion of the next few hours yelling at Fabian, cursing at me (¡la gringa puta!), and complaining to Andés´ father. I left early the next morning to avoid any more confrontation. Unfortunately I didn`t get to say goodbye to my friends, but we had already traded phone numbers so I called them later in the day. I hopefully will stay with Andrés and his family (a 26 year old living at home is the status quo in chile) when I travel up north. Anyway, it looks like I had the good luck of traveling with good company in Valdivia. Chileans just loooove hanging out with a gringa.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Librerías sin Libros

For those of you that know spanish, you know that you can add an "ería" on the end of any word, and it become the place where you sell that word. Por ejemplo, Zapatería is a place where you sell zapatos, or shoes. So a librería, you would think, is a bookstore. Well I had already learned that in Chile, this is not necessarily so. Renato´s parents own a librería, but there are no books there. Mostly its office supplies, but it also carries any other odd number of things. Apparently librería, also means Staples. When he told me this, I obviously thought it was ridiculous. And a bit upsetting, since book stores are so important to me. Values are built into a language. If you don`t have have a word for something, how can it be important? This is apparent in the poor quality of bookstores in Chile, the even worse quality of libraries, and the generally low interest in reading that I`ve encountered. The government is running a big campaign trying to encourage people to read. Anyway the point is that this faulty definition came to bite me in the ass today.

So I finally started doing something at work. I ´m trying to figure out different ways to get books to the isolate communities where we work, where they don`t have any type of written texts. Today, I decided to dedicate my morning to asking bookstores for donations of childrens books for a library in a community called Camapu el Solar. Even though my boss frowned at the idea, I decided to give it a try. This was something I was familiar with. Asking for donations. I went to the Chilean yellow pages and wrote down the addresses and phone numbers of all the librerías in Osorno. Then, I ran into the problem. There was no one too tell from the listings which kind of librería this was. One with, or without libros. Well, that didn`t stop me. I called about 10 or so listings. The first woman who answered seemed surprised. Books? No, we don`t sell any books. The next woman also seemed surprised. Books? OF COURSE we sell books. Haha.

Once I had narrowed down my list, I went off to do some begging. I printed out a nice sheet with a description of our project and our logo and picture and description of the community that wanted the books. On the way over, I had a craving for an empanada de orno (yes, with meat) and realized that Chile was finally getting to me. I entered into the first bookstore frightened and speaking with much uncertainty. Thankfully, this place was my most willing participant. She asked a few questions and then told me if I came back next week, she would have a pile of books to donate. ¡Exito! I was overwhelmingly excited about my sudcess, and walked to my next destination with a shit eating grin on my face. Wait till I tell Pedro, I thought.

Now since I walk around alone a lot here, I`ve become accustomed to the unwelcome attention of every chilean man that I pass by on the street. I suppose its not much different than the whistles of a big city in the US, but here it seems to be more persistant. Anyways the norm is a kissing noise, but never really anything more so its never really an issue. On my walk back from the first book store, a man said something I had never heard before from a strange man hitting on me. "You are so beautiful! May god bless you!" Hahaha. For some reason at the time it was hysterical, and more well appreciated than a creepy whistle. I continued on to more and more librerías. Some, only full of notebooks, pens and random toys, and others with books for donation.

I came back triumphantly to inform Pedro of my success and of course he didn`t think much of my "I told you so" face. But my other colleages smiled and congratulated me in continuing despite Pedro´s pessimism. I wrote up an official document so that we could sign and officiate the book donations and next week I will make my next round. When I go visit the community next week, I will check out the new book shelf they made and bring them whatever I have collected. I also connected with a local library that has backs of books that we are going to lend out for a few weeks at a time.

Next, I´m supposed to be brainstorming ideas for how to help "organize the youth." My creative juices aren`t flowing at the moment, which is why I´m at the office writing a blog entry. Let me know if you have any ideas. I think we`re going to start with a movie screening.