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.