On Wednesday I was invited to lunch with two teachers from my school.
We went to this restaurant in town. (I know, right? San Nicolás has restaurants! No way*!) So we go there, get some grub, and then we order some bebidas (drinks). At all restaurants I order "agua de la llave" which is tap water (I`m not paying 300 to 650 pesos for bottled water) because the water in Chile is SAFE. When I placed my drink order, not only did my two dining companions give me a "what the eff" look but the waiter did as well. After the shock of my request subsided, the two teachers looked at me and said, "No no you can`t drink the water here. It`s not clean. It has sulfur in it. How many times have you had it? You`re going to get sick!" Okay, a) I have only had it from la llave in San Nicolas about twice. Both times, I was drunk and it was dark and b) host mom has never mentioned we can`t drink the water in this sweet little town.
Regardless, I felt like an idiot. But I`m blaming host mom.
So then the waiter brings out our drinks and un vaso con agua de la llave para mi. There is definitely a yellowish tinge to it. Good thing I covered my embarrassing moment with the world`s best joke!
"¿Cual baile es la favorita de una tomate?"
Silencio.
"¡La salsa!"
De nada.
*My kids laughed at me the other day when I said, "No way!" because apparently to them, it sounds a lot like "No me wea!" which means "Don`t fuck with me!" Your fun fact for the day.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
The realities of living abroad with a host family (sometimes it effing blows)
Introduction: this post is going to be a rather glum post and for that, I apologize. Things have been really frustrating and difficult these last few days, but also ridiculous—so ridiculous in fact that I can't help but laugh. Because host mom...is insane.
During our first week of orientation, we received an important and informative lecture about the stages of culture shock. All of the struggles with culture shock and homesickness come during your first few weeks in your new town, and then gradually, you grow accustomed to your new locale. And finally, you're happy again!
For me, all of this came in reverse. Despite a few other factors, a lot of this has to do with the fact that my host mother is crazy.
At first, she was pretty cool. I felt like I had to walk around eggshells around her, but she seemed funny and okay so things were fine. Plus, for the first month, I was adjusting and my behavior was “good”. I spent a lot of time with her grand kids who came over frequently, we talked Disney Channel, played soccer, had a good time. Then Fiestas Patrias happened and everything changed.
First, host mom started getting annoyed with my Spanish (which without a doubt, is definitely frustrating. To live with someone who doesn't speak your language is a burden. But it is a burden that you should not take on unless you are ready to deal with it.) “You've been here one month, why can't you speak Spanish?” This became an occasional occurrence, but even more common was the, “You don't understand me!” I really did try with her, but I have to hear everything two to three times, so she got tired very quickly of me asking, “Otra vez por favor” or “Mas lento, por favor”. She would just throw her arms up in the air and huff. “No me entiendes!” And then she'd walk away and that would be the end of that.
Then, the grand kids stopped coming over. They stopped by sometimes but it was not nearly as often as it used to be. And when they would come over, they were always sullen and silent. There's only so much prodding for conversation I can do in Spanish.
Also around this time I became really busy. I started traveling almost every weekend and Jess' family started inviting me over a lot (and they are so much more fun!). Plus, I started to get a little tired of sitting inside watching telenovelas while being ridiculed for my poor Spanish.
Then, the housekeeper also stopped coming over. She used to come over at least three times a week to clean and help cook lunch. But I don't think she came over once during the month of October. A few times host mom said she wasn't coming over because she was sick, but there were more than a handful of times that Jane and I saw her walk on the other side of the street to go to host mom's daughter's house to clean. Peculiar. It's quite possible host mom said something that upset her. Host mom likes to point out how people are fat, ugly, drunk, and lazy. And she likes to do this a lot. (Update: She has since come over ONCE. And when she came over, it was when host mom had to go into Chillan for the day. I'm sure she enjoyed having the house to herself. Lord knows Jane and I were happy to have the house to ourselves!)
Lastly, the Ministry of Education didn't pay my host mother until mid-October. So she had to front the money to feed us/ borrow money to feed us from August until October. She's not a rich woman, so she was no doubt incredibly angry about that (actually, we know for a fact she was unhappy with this because she told us at least twice EVERY DAY). Jane and I offered to pay for ourselves but she refused. However, once she finally got paid she didn't really seem any happier.
October wasn't terrible, but it was odd. Jane and I still don't really know what happened, but we think there was some kind of fight going on in the family because none of her kids (most of them live around town) came over.
November, however, has turned out to be a truly unbearable month. It actually almost broke me, I hate to admit. And the weird thing is, the kids started coming over A LOT and so did the grand kids. But irregardless, host mom reached the point of truly hating me (hate is a strong word but honestly, the woman hates me.) Things reached their tipping point when she yelled at me for putting my backpack on my bed.
Ahhh yes, now we can start the jokes. I hope you are prepared for the hilarity that is about to follow:
Last week, host mom came into my room and yelled at me for putting my backpack on the bed. Now, I have been putting my backpack on the bed for as long as I have been here in San Nicolas. This is not a new thing I have started doing. I also put my backpack on the bed because I do not want it on the floor. I do not want it on the floor because you are not supposed to put things on the floor due to the possibility of the rincon spider (the super poisonous one) crawling into your mochila. This is why you do not leave your clothes on the floor. This is why you shake out your clothes before putting them on. So I'm not going to put my backpack on the floor. Also, with the way my room is set up, there really isn't space for my backpack on the floor. There is a chair in my room, but when I put my backpack on the chair it always seems like it is going to fall off, and I like to put my jacket on that chair instead. It's complicated, clearly. Anyway, she comes into my room and tells me I can't put my backpack on the bed anymore because it's too heavy. Seriously. This is not an instance of my poor Spanish. For the first time, she spoke slowly. THEN, she moves over to my dirty clothes pile (which is hidden and smallish and again, has no where else to go, and AGAIN has been like this for the entire duration of my stay) and says, “And your dirty clothes. UGLY. It's ugly. It's feo. I don't like it.” Then she moves over to the other bed in my room (I have a total of three because Once upon a time, I was sharing this room with two other people) and says, “And I don't like your clothes on the bed. I don't like you having things on the bed. It's feo.” Yes, I did have a sweatshirt on the bed. And yes, I did have a few other work-related things on the bed. I don't have a desk and I don't have an electrical outlet near my bed, so I use one of the other beds to do lesson planning , but once I am done, I always clean it up and fix the bed. It's not like I have this massive pile of stuff on the bed. It's usually my computer, a notebook, and paper for drawing pictures. And I NEVER abandon the mess! I always clean it up! And AGAIN, I have been doing this since August (well, this particular act, since early September when Jane moved into the other room) but irregardless, these are things I have been doing for a while. And I honestly try to be neat. I make my bed. I keep my clothes in the armario. I try, I try! I'm sweet! I smile! I try, goddammit!
This incident happened on a Sunday morning. Jane and I, of course to avoid host mom, later went to Chillan for the day. When we came back that afternoon, instead of immediately taking Once, we went for a jog. When we came back, host mom was mad at us because we took Once a whole 30 minutes later than normal (so 7:30 instead of 7). She then wouldn't let it go that we went to Chillan AND went jogging. God forbid. AND, she started freaking out that we didn't have enough bread for Once AND breakfast the next morning and that she had told us specifically to buy bread while in Chillan. This was a lie and also not the first time it has happened to me. Before we had left for Chillan, Jane and I asked her if she needed anything. We asked her four times. We asked, are you SURE? She said no, she didn't need anything. She was clearly just trying to pick a fight. I guess my heavy backpack really put her in a mood.
Then on Tuesday morning, as I was laying in bed, I heard the breakfast conversation. Jane asked host mom how she slept, and host mom said horrible. Why? Asked Jane. Because someone flushed the toilet last night and it woke me up. Once they figured out who the culprit was (me), I was told I am no longer allowed to flush the toilet at night. This was the breaking point for me. I know it sounds so ridiculous but when your every move is under constant criticism, and you can no longer flush the toilet at night (what the eff am I supposed to do if I have to poop? Seriously!) all these tiny, insignificant things really start to build on you and wear you down. So I skipped my classes and fled to Chillan for the day because sometimes being in that house and being in that town feels like I have a plastic bag over my head and I am slowly suffocating.
Things have been better with host mom these past few days, but I think that is because I haven't really been at home. I am trying a lot harder now to not be home at all. It seems like it is just easier for everyone. Plus for my mental health, I definitely need it. Luckily, one more week!
I think the thing that is upsetting me the most about this entire situation is that I'm having a bad host family experience. This was supposed to be the most amazing part of the entire Chilean experience for me! And maybe I didn't try hard enough? That's definitely possible. But I teach everyday from 8:30 until 5:40, go jogging after until 7ish and then come home and eat Once, and then by 8 I am ready for bed/ alone time. I am someone who needs their alone time, I have always been like this. I would usually spend like 20 to 30 minutes watching TV with Jane and host mom but spending any more time just seemed impossible. I guess this is why I didn't try hard enough. So dear host mom, I'm sorry I suck.
Oh, also, the other day I wanted to go for a walk, so I told her I was going for a walk and she's like, “Walking by yourself is so fome.” (Lame.) Whatever, host mom. You never leave the house.
Kitten Update: Jane and I were mistaken. Host mom did not throw the kittens over the fence and into the river. I have seen them, and they do exist. BUT about two weeks ago there was a cat fight in the middle of the night, and two of the three kittens were killed. And the next day, during breakfast, host mom was talking to her son in Brazil on the phone, when she told him about the murdered kittens. Granted, I couldn't hear what he asked her, but based on the following response, I assume he asked her something like, “Did you get up when you heard the cat fight?” Her response was this: “Of course I didn't get up when I heard the cat fight!” Then she cackled. So she let those kittens die.
During our first week of orientation, we received an important and informative lecture about the stages of culture shock. All of the struggles with culture shock and homesickness come during your first few weeks in your new town, and then gradually, you grow accustomed to your new locale. And finally, you're happy again!
For me, all of this came in reverse. Despite a few other factors, a lot of this has to do with the fact that my host mother is crazy.
At first, she was pretty cool. I felt like I had to walk around eggshells around her, but she seemed funny and okay so things were fine. Plus, for the first month, I was adjusting and my behavior was “good”. I spent a lot of time with her grand kids who came over frequently, we talked Disney Channel, played soccer, had a good time. Then Fiestas Patrias happened and everything changed.
First, host mom started getting annoyed with my Spanish (which without a doubt, is definitely frustrating. To live with someone who doesn't speak your language is a burden. But it is a burden that you should not take on unless you are ready to deal with it.) “You've been here one month, why can't you speak Spanish?” This became an occasional occurrence, but even more common was the, “You don't understand me!” I really did try with her, but I have to hear everything two to three times, so she got tired very quickly of me asking, “Otra vez por favor” or “Mas lento, por favor”. She would just throw her arms up in the air and huff. “No me entiendes!” And then she'd walk away and that would be the end of that.
Then, the grand kids stopped coming over. They stopped by sometimes but it was not nearly as often as it used to be. And when they would come over, they were always sullen and silent. There's only so much prodding for conversation I can do in Spanish.
Also around this time I became really busy. I started traveling almost every weekend and Jess' family started inviting me over a lot (and they are so much more fun!). Plus, I started to get a little tired of sitting inside watching telenovelas while being ridiculed for my poor Spanish.
Then, the housekeeper also stopped coming over. She used to come over at least three times a week to clean and help cook lunch. But I don't think she came over once during the month of October. A few times host mom said she wasn't coming over because she was sick, but there were more than a handful of times that Jane and I saw her walk on the other side of the street to go to host mom's daughter's house to clean. Peculiar. It's quite possible host mom said something that upset her. Host mom likes to point out how people are fat, ugly, drunk, and lazy. And she likes to do this a lot. (Update: She has since come over ONCE. And when she came over, it was when host mom had to go into Chillan for the day. I'm sure she enjoyed having the house to herself. Lord knows Jane and I were happy to have the house to ourselves!)
Lastly, the Ministry of Education didn't pay my host mother until mid-October. So she had to front the money to feed us/ borrow money to feed us from August until October. She's not a rich woman, so she was no doubt incredibly angry about that (actually, we know for a fact she was unhappy with this because she told us at least twice EVERY DAY). Jane and I offered to pay for ourselves but she refused. However, once she finally got paid she didn't really seem any happier.
October wasn't terrible, but it was odd. Jane and I still don't really know what happened, but we think there was some kind of fight going on in the family because none of her kids (most of them live around town) came over.
November, however, has turned out to be a truly unbearable month. It actually almost broke me, I hate to admit. And the weird thing is, the kids started coming over A LOT and so did the grand kids. But irregardless, host mom reached the point of truly hating me (hate is a strong word but honestly, the woman hates me.) Things reached their tipping point when she yelled at me for putting my backpack on my bed.
Ahhh yes, now we can start the jokes. I hope you are prepared for the hilarity that is about to follow:
Last week, host mom came into my room and yelled at me for putting my backpack on the bed. Now, I have been putting my backpack on the bed for as long as I have been here in San Nicolas. This is not a new thing I have started doing. I also put my backpack on the bed because I do not want it on the floor. I do not want it on the floor because you are not supposed to put things on the floor due to the possibility of the rincon spider (the super poisonous one) crawling into your mochila. This is why you do not leave your clothes on the floor. This is why you shake out your clothes before putting them on. So I'm not going to put my backpack on the floor. Also, with the way my room is set up, there really isn't space for my backpack on the floor. There is a chair in my room, but when I put my backpack on the chair it always seems like it is going to fall off, and I like to put my jacket on that chair instead. It's complicated, clearly. Anyway, she comes into my room and tells me I can't put my backpack on the bed anymore because it's too heavy. Seriously. This is not an instance of my poor Spanish. For the first time, she spoke slowly. THEN, she moves over to my dirty clothes pile (which is hidden and smallish and again, has no where else to go, and AGAIN has been like this for the entire duration of my stay) and says, “And your dirty clothes. UGLY. It's ugly. It's feo. I don't like it.” Then she moves over to the other bed in my room (I have a total of three because Once upon a time, I was sharing this room with two other people) and says, “And I don't like your clothes on the bed. I don't like you having things on the bed. It's feo.” Yes, I did have a sweatshirt on the bed. And yes, I did have a few other work-related things on the bed. I don't have a desk and I don't have an electrical outlet near my bed, so I use one of the other beds to do lesson planning , but once I am done, I always clean it up and fix the bed. It's not like I have this massive pile of stuff on the bed. It's usually my computer, a notebook, and paper for drawing pictures. And I NEVER abandon the mess! I always clean it up! And AGAIN, I have been doing this since August (well, this particular act, since early September when Jane moved into the other room) but irregardless, these are things I have been doing for a while. And I honestly try to be neat. I make my bed. I keep my clothes in the armario. I try, I try! I'm sweet! I smile! I try, goddammit!
This incident happened on a Sunday morning. Jane and I, of course to avoid host mom, later went to Chillan for the day. When we came back that afternoon, instead of immediately taking Once, we went for a jog. When we came back, host mom was mad at us because we took Once a whole 30 minutes later than normal (so 7:30 instead of 7). She then wouldn't let it go that we went to Chillan AND went jogging. God forbid. AND, she started freaking out that we didn't have enough bread for Once AND breakfast the next morning and that she had told us specifically to buy bread while in Chillan. This was a lie and also not the first time it has happened to me. Before we had left for Chillan, Jane and I asked her if she needed anything. We asked her four times. We asked, are you SURE? She said no, she didn't need anything. She was clearly just trying to pick a fight. I guess my heavy backpack really put her in a mood.
Then on Tuesday morning, as I was laying in bed, I heard the breakfast conversation. Jane asked host mom how she slept, and host mom said horrible. Why? Asked Jane. Because someone flushed the toilet last night and it woke me up. Once they figured out who the culprit was (me), I was told I am no longer allowed to flush the toilet at night. This was the breaking point for me. I know it sounds so ridiculous but when your every move is under constant criticism, and you can no longer flush the toilet at night (what the eff am I supposed to do if I have to poop? Seriously!) all these tiny, insignificant things really start to build on you and wear you down. So I skipped my classes and fled to Chillan for the day because sometimes being in that house and being in that town feels like I have a plastic bag over my head and I am slowly suffocating.
Things have been better with host mom these past few days, but I think that is because I haven't really been at home. I am trying a lot harder now to not be home at all. It seems like it is just easier for everyone. Plus for my mental health, I definitely need it. Luckily, one more week!
I think the thing that is upsetting me the most about this entire situation is that I'm having a bad host family experience. This was supposed to be the most amazing part of the entire Chilean experience for me! And maybe I didn't try hard enough? That's definitely possible. But I teach everyday from 8:30 until 5:40, go jogging after until 7ish and then come home and eat Once, and then by 8 I am ready for bed/ alone time. I am someone who needs their alone time, I have always been like this. I would usually spend like 20 to 30 minutes watching TV with Jane and host mom but spending any more time just seemed impossible. I guess this is why I didn't try hard enough. So dear host mom, I'm sorry I suck.
Oh, also, the other day I wanted to go for a walk, so I told her I was going for a walk and she's like, “Walking by yourself is so fome.” (Lame.) Whatever, host mom. You never leave the house.
Kitten Update: Jane and I were mistaken. Host mom did not throw the kittens over the fence and into the river. I have seen them, and they do exist. BUT about two weeks ago there was a cat fight in the middle of the night, and two of the three kittens were killed. And the next day, during breakfast, host mom was talking to her son in Brazil on the phone, when she told him about the murdered kittens. Granted, I couldn't hear what he asked her, but based on the following response, I assume he asked her something like, “Did you get up when you heard the cat fight?” Her response was this: “Of course I didn't get up when I heard the cat fight!” Then she cackled. So she let those kittens die.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Nancy Drew and the Mystery of the Missing Kittens
Warning: if you like cats you might want to stop reading this entry.
It is quite possible that I live with a cat killer. Host mom has a lot of cats. And Pintufa, her pride and joy, just had kittens. But every time Jane and I ask about the kittens, we get weird ambiguous answers. Jane did see one kitten ONCE this weekend when Pintufa put it in my closet. But then host mom chased her and the kitten out and we have yet to see the little guys.
Jane and I just had a deep discussion about the location of the missing kittens because honestly, where are they!?! They are little tikes, they can't get away that fast! So we're about 99.9% sure host mom tossed them over the fence in the backyard and into the river. I seriously wouldn't put it past her. She's got the crazy eyes.
It is quite possible that I live with a cat killer. Host mom has a lot of cats. And Pintufa, her pride and joy, just had kittens. But every time Jane and I ask about the kittens, we get weird ambiguous answers. Jane did see one kitten ONCE this weekend when Pintufa put it in my closet. But then host mom chased her and the kitten out and we have yet to see the little guys.
Jane and I just had a deep discussion about the location of the missing kittens because honestly, where are they!?! They are little tikes, they can't get away that fast! So we're about 99.9% sure host mom tossed them over the fence in the backyard and into the river. I seriously wouldn't put it past her. She's got the crazy eyes.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
"We're gonna make a cow"
The title of this blog has nothing to do with its contents. I just really enjoy the Chilenismo "hacer una vaca" for when you and your friends are going to split the bill. And I enjoy its English translation. Your fun fact for the day.
Ooooooooooookkkkkaaaaaaaaay. This is going to be a legitimate blog post. This is going to be a blog post in which you see all the blood, sweat, and tears that has poured out of my body and onto your computer screen. This is going to be a blog post in which you step back, shaken, and say, “Wow. This is why I got into this in the first place.” I'm going to remind you why you follow my blog.
In reality, I'm just going to give you a decent life update. So hold on tight.
Anecdote One: I climbed a volcano! This was serious business, friends. Last weekend, I went to Pucón with Jane, the German*, and My New Favorite German (Jana. Who is 100% German with an adorable British-German accent.) We didn't really plan this trip. We just checked the weather forecast, found out we weren't going to have classes on Thursday afternoon/ Friday, and decided, hey, let's get out of here!
So Pucón is an outdoorsy person's paradise. It's in the Andes (six hours south by bus from my dear, sweet, little San Nicolas) and it has a volcano you can climb. It's also rife with other activities such as canopying (zip-lining), rafting, horseback riding, hiking, kayaking, etc. It looked a lot like Lake Tahoe and it was definitely designed for tourists. But I liked it a lot.
We stayed at this cute hostel called the Tree House...and it literally had a tree house. It also had two dogs that were CLEAN and therefore could be cuddled. The dogs on the street here are 100% untouchable (shaaaame) so the fact that I could pet a husky sent me over the edge. Yeah, this guy right here was pretty stoked. EVIDENCE:
On Friday, we headed to the bosque where we went canopying! We hadn't really thought this through (theme of the weekend!) so as we were climbing the first ladder to get to the first platform from which we would depart across the forest, we finally realized oh yeahhhh...this is kind of dangerous. In the end, I'm so glad we did it. It was so much fun! We zip-lined across a river, made friends with the guides (who were all ugly except for one). We also made friends with two other American tourists. But we forgot to get their last names so now we can't be Facebook friends. So Kristin and Catherine (?) if you read this, check us out on Facebook!
As for Saturday, we climbed the volcano. It took us 9.5 hours to climb the active 9,300ish foot beast known as Vulcan Villarica. We didn't see any lava, but yeah, hands down the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. So much harder than college, math, or common sense (in my case, at least). We were the last group to come down, my heels are bloody and hate me, but it was worth it. It was mostly worth it because once we got to the top, the German-American and I had this really romantic moment where we looked at each other and said, “I love you.” It was very sincere. I don't take it back, Jess. And I never will.
I also got to witness the German-American cry. Seriously. These kinds of physical challenges can really change a person. Jess is so much nicer now. She should climb volcanoes more often.
But in all honesty, I don't think I can top that experience. It was so effing painful, it almost broke me the way my first UC Berkeley upper division midterm on the history of international relations almost broke me. Luckily, I'm not so good at quitting (untrue, I'm good at quitting extracurricular activities, jobs, and volunteer work). But when it comes to bragging rights and school, I take that shit seriously.
I climbed a volcano! EVIDENCE:
Next life challenge: Climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro for the German-American's 30th birthday. My heels have five years to heal. Ha! Unintentional, I swear.
The weekend before Pucón, I went to Valdivia. It's about 6ish hours south of my dear, sweet little San Nicolas as well. It's close to the coast and it was where a lot of the German immigrants from the 19th century settled. The Kunstman (did I spell that right?) brewery is there. And it also has a bunch of old Spanish forts. The forts were unbelievable. Valdivia was absolutely beautiful and it's a place I'm definitely going to go back to. I'm planning on taking my dad there for a few days in January when he comes. Seriously, the forts, so cool.
As for school updates, things are going. There are still so many disruptions, but it's whatever. I've gotten used to it. There is one class that Jess and I both have that is really difficult. They are indifferent to learning, loud, disrespectful, etc. But sometimes for me they can be good. And this past week, they were so good! They were hands down my best class. I've noticed that I just have to get my mood in sync with them because they are the one class that always gets my jokes. They love it when I do silly things. So when I bring the funny, they pay attention. I guess it was more like I was on my A-game this week.
And side note: So the other day Jane and I were alone in our house for lunch for the first time ever. We totally loved it of course, but Jane REALLY loved it. She was so excited, she went into the kitchen and started investigating. We had been curious for a while about what was in the fridge/ freezer and various other parts of the kitchen we had never really been able to go, so we took advantage of the freedom. Jane got super into it. I dubbed it, her most adorable moment in Chile. She was like a kid on Christmas. Also, I'm fairly certain a giant cow head is in our freezer.
Gypsy update: they haven't returned but a circus is being set up in the vacant lot where the gypsies once resided. Odd, don't you think?
Lastly, traveling plans. So Concepcion this weekend with the German-American, probably another weekend out in Chillan, and then I'm not sure. I have to fill about two more weekends I think before I head back to Santiago for closing ceremonies/ farewells. I have to say good bye to Jess at the end of November which is going to be so hard. Confession: she arrived to dear, sweet little San Nicolas one week after me. I was afraid she was going to suck, but Jane was like, chill out, she'll probably be your new best friend. True that. The German-American rocks (you're welcome). But she also totally sucks too. She's moving to London...wow, thanks, Jess. Chile is already expensive enough for me, how am I going to afford a plane ticket to London?
Alright, more on traveling plans. Torres del Paine is still happening in early December, Christmas in San Nicolas with the German-American's host family, Santiago/ Chillan/ San Nicolas/ Valdivia with real dad in January, then, it is quite possible that I am going to do the Atacama/ Macchu Picchu/ Uruguay/ Bolivia/ Argentina circuit with my Chilean friend Rebeca (yes, only one 'c'. That's how they roll down here). We need to discuss more and budget, but hey, I've got time, let's do it!
So thanks for reading this hodge-podge of a blog. I have another one in progress about things I'm planning to bring back from Chile to the United States. It's going to be a good one, so stay tuned. Also, keep your eyes open for another forthcoming blog entitled “Beaches vs. Bitches” in which I make fun of non-native English speakers for having trouble differentiating those two words.
Until next time!
Ooooooooooookkkkkaaaaaaaaay. This is going to be a legitimate blog post. This is going to be a blog post in which you see all the blood, sweat, and tears that has poured out of my body and onto your computer screen. This is going to be a blog post in which you step back, shaken, and say, “Wow. This is why I got into this in the first place.” I'm going to remind you why you follow my blog.
In reality, I'm just going to give you a decent life update. So hold on tight.
Anecdote One: I climbed a volcano! This was serious business, friends. Last weekend, I went to Pucón with Jane, the German*, and My New Favorite German (Jana. Who is 100% German with an adorable British-German accent.) We didn't really plan this trip. We just checked the weather forecast, found out we weren't going to have classes on Thursday afternoon/ Friday, and decided, hey, let's get out of here!
So Pucón is an outdoorsy person's paradise. It's in the Andes (six hours south by bus from my dear, sweet, little San Nicolas) and it has a volcano you can climb. It's also rife with other activities such as canopying (zip-lining), rafting, horseback riding, hiking, kayaking, etc. It looked a lot like Lake Tahoe and it was definitely designed for tourists. But I liked it a lot.
We stayed at this cute hostel called the Tree House...and it literally had a tree house. It also had two dogs that were CLEAN and therefore could be cuddled. The dogs on the street here are 100% untouchable (shaaaame) so the fact that I could pet a husky sent me over the edge. Yeah, this guy right here was pretty stoked. EVIDENCE:
On Friday, we headed to the bosque where we went canopying! We hadn't really thought this through (theme of the weekend!) so as we were climbing the first ladder to get to the first platform from which we would depart across the forest, we finally realized oh yeahhhh...this is kind of dangerous. In the end, I'm so glad we did it. It was so much fun! We zip-lined across a river, made friends with the guides (who were all ugly except for one). We also made friends with two other American tourists. But we forgot to get their last names so now we can't be Facebook friends. So Kristin and Catherine (?) if you read this, check us out on Facebook!
As for Saturday, we climbed the volcano. It took us 9.5 hours to climb the active 9,300ish foot beast known as Vulcan Villarica. We didn't see any lava, but yeah, hands down the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. So much harder than college, math, or common sense (in my case, at least). We were the last group to come down, my heels are bloody and hate me, but it was worth it. It was mostly worth it because once we got to the top, the German-American and I had this really romantic moment where we looked at each other and said, “I love you.” It was very sincere. I don't take it back, Jess. And I never will.
I also got to witness the German-American cry. Seriously. These kinds of physical challenges can really change a person. Jess is so much nicer now. She should climb volcanoes more often.
But in all honesty, I don't think I can top that experience. It was so effing painful, it almost broke me the way my first UC Berkeley upper division midterm on the history of international relations almost broke me. Luckily, I'm not so good at quitting (untrue, I'm good at quitting extracurricular activities, jobs, and volunteer work). But when it comes to bragging rights and school, I take that shit seriously.
I climbed a volcano! EVIDENCE:
Next life challenge: Climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro for the German-American's 30th birthday. My heels have five years to heal. Ha! Unintentional, I swear.
The weekend before Pucón, I went to Valdivia. It's about 6ish hours south of my dear, sweet little San Nicolas as well. It's close to the coast and it was where a lot of the German immigrants from the 19th century settled. The Kunstman (did I spell that right?) brewery is there. And it also has a bunch of old Spanish forts. The forts were unbelievable. Valdivia was absolutely beautiful and it's a place I'm definitely going to go back to. I'm planning on taking my dad there for a few days in January when he comes. Seriously, the forts, so cool.
As for school updates, things are going. There are still so many disruptions, but it's whatever. I've gotten used to it. There is one class that Jess and I both have that is really difficult. They are indifferent to learning, loud, disrespectful, etc. But sometimes for me they can be good. And this past week, they were so good! They were hands down my best class. I've noticed that I just have to get my mood in sync with them because they are the one class that always gets my jokes. They love it when I do silly things. So when I bring the funny, they pay attention. I guess it was more like I was on my A-game this week.
And side note: So the other day Jane and I were alone in our house for lunch for the first time ever. We totally loved it of course, but Jane REALLY loved it. She was so excited, she went into the kitchen and started investigating. We had been curious for a while about what was in the fridge/ freezer and various other parts of the kitchen we had never really been able to go, so we took advantage of the freedom. Jane got super into it. I dubbed it, her most adorable moment in Chile. She was like a kid on Christmas. Also, I'm fairly certain a giant cow head is in our freezer.
Gypsy update: they haven't returned but a circus is being set up in the vacant lot where the gypsies once resided. Odd, don't you think?
Lastly, traveling plans. So Concepcion this weekend with the German-American, probably another weekend out in Chillan, and then I'm not sure. I have to fill about two more weekends I think before I head back to Santiago for closing ceremonies/ farewells. I have to say good bye to Jess at the end of November which is going to be so hard. Confession: she arrived to dear, sweet little San Nicolas one week after me. I was afraid she was going to suck, but Jane was like, chill out, she'll probably be your new best friend. True that. The German-American rocks (you're welcome). But she also totally sucks too. She's moving to London...wow, thanks, Jess. Chile is already expensive enough for me, how am I going to afford a plane ticket to London?
Alright, more on traveling plans. Torres del Paine is still happening in early December, Christmas in San Nicolas with the German-American's host family, Santiago/ Chillan/ San Nicolas/ Valdivia with real dad in January, then, it is quite possible that I am going to do the Atacama/ Macchu Picchu/ Uruguay/ Bolivia/ Argentina circuit with my Chilean friend Rebeca (yes, only one 'c'. That's how they roll down here). We need to discuss more and budget, but hey, I've got time, let's do it!
So thanks for reading this hodge-podge of a blog. I have another one in progress about things I'm planning to bring back from Chile to the United States. It's going to be a good one, so stay tuned. Also, keep your eyes open for another forthcoming blog entitled “Beaches vs. Bitches” in which I make fun of non-native English speakers for having trouble differentiating those two words.
Until next time!
(*from here on in, I shall refer to the German as the German-American. Because well, she is German-American. Jess, consider this my olive branch haha.)
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
The German is a better blogger than I
Jess just told me she's linking my blog to her blog. So I'd just like to take the time to say to all my new, forthcoming readers: I really suck at blogging. Apologies.
You win, German. You always do...
In other news, I'm going to Concepcion this weekend (finally!) And I'm going with, who else, but...the German!
I promise though, volcano/ Valdivia/ gypsies update coming soon! (Los gitanos...ellos se fueron. SAD FACE.)
In the mean time, enjoy this picture from Valdivia:
You win, German. You always do...
In other news, I'm going to Concepcion this weekend (finally!) And I'm going with, who else, but...the German!
I promise though, volcano/ Valdivia/ gypsies update coming soon! (Los gitanos...ellos se fueron. SAD FACE.)
In the mean time, enjoy this picture from Valdivia:
Monday, October 19, 2009
I climbed a volcano, and I liked it (post-climb)
This past weekend I went to Pucon and I climbed the volcano. More on that later. But in the mean time...I climbed an effing volcano! Height: 2,847 meters (9,340 feet)
I wanted to die.
I promise, I'll update this soon!
I wanted to die.
I promise, I'll update this soon!
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Sorry, German.
The German just pointed out that I suck and forgot to put in the link for her blog.
The German's Blog: http://micasadeinhaus.wordpress.com/
Better?
The German's Blog: http://micasadeinhaus.wordpress.com/
Better?
Monday, October 5, 2009
Scary, Chilean Revelations
(Notice that I am bringing back my blog. I felt threatened by the German's prolificness with her blog. This country has made me more reckless, more easy going, más floja, and way more competitive. So suck it, German!) Let's get started.
Since I have been in Chile, I have only had one terrifying experience (el partido de futbol). Wait, I take that back. Every time I get into a car I am always afraid of imminent death (for more on why I feel this way, check out the German's blog: ). Anyway, in general (excluding cars, buses, and football games) I feel pretty safe here in Chile. And as it turns out, Chile's violent crime rate is much lower than the United States and considering Berkeley was just rated the 41st most dangerous city in the United States, I feel coddled and protected in my tiny little Chilean town. But that being said, this past week, I have had two very scary facts reveled to me. They are as follows:
1.Poisonous, murderous, spiders live in every Chilean house.
So I was with my Chilean Thursday night when he told me about the Chilean recluse spider. Luckily, my limited Spanish spared me some of the gruesome details but basically, there is a tiny brown spider that can kill you. And it probably lives in your house. So shake out your clothes before you put them on.
2.Gypsies just moved to my town
Tonight (tonight being Saturday, October 3rd at 11:30 pm), I went to the German's house to celebrate the birthday of the maisas (fraternal twins in Spanish. I have no idea if I have spelled that correctly.) As usual, it was awesome. I love that family. I ate too many completos and cake and drank too much Canada Dry with lemon (delicious, by the way). All in all, a fantastic evening.
UNLESS, you count the terrifying story of the gypsies. I don't even remember how we came upon the subject, but first, let me describe the German's house. So I live in the campo but I live like two feet away from the plaza. I like to tell myself that this makes me a little bit more “cosmopolitan”. The German lives very close to me, but every time I am at her house I feel like I am in the middle of nowhere. It's only one street away from me, but she lives at the end of her street, very close to a cerro (hill) which makes the campo-feeling that much more...campo. It also doesn't help that there are two huge empty lots close to her house. Murdered people are probably buried there.
So we're sitting at the dinner table when the German's family reveals to me that gypsies have moved to town and they've set up a tent in one of the empty lots. I don't know how I didn't notice on my walk there this evening, but I was instantly petrified. Gypsies? In my town? Gyspies are so scary! They throw fake babies at you in Rome, they hand you cards with a sob story to distract you as they rob you, they are...nomadic. Gyspsies scare me. I think it goes back to the days when I was afraid of clowns. Clowns are nomadic too. And also scary.
Then of course, the story has to get much worse. Turns out that not only do the carabineros not care that the gypsies have set up shop in town and are stealing TV, BUT the gypsies in Chile traffic children! That's right, they steal babies! And do you know why they steal babies? They steal babies to sell off to circuses! I know, it seems crazy, but it's true!
Needless to say, on my walk home tonight, as I silently crept past the gypsy tent and saw the light from their TV, I felt like running.
It didn't help either that as I was shutting the gate to their house, the German and her host sister said, “Watch out for the gypsies...”
Gypsies are scary.
Since I have been in Chile, I have only had one terrifying experience (el partido de futbol). Wait, I take that back. Every time I get into a car I am always afraid of imminent death (for more on why I feel this way, check out the German's blog: ). Anyway, in general (excluding cars, buses, and football games) I feel pretty safe here in Chile. And as it turns out, Chile's violent crime rate is much lower than the United States and considering Berkeley was just rated the 41st most dangerous city in the United States, I feel coddled and protected in my tiny little Chilean town. But that being said, this past week, I have had two very scary facts reveled to me. They are as follows:
1.Poisonous, murderous, spiders live in every Chilean house.
So I was with my Chilean Thursday night when he told me about the Chilean recluse spider. Luckily, my limited Spanish spared me some of the gruesome details but basically, there is a tiny brown spider that can kill you. And it probably lives in your house. So shake out your clothes before you put them on.
2.Gypsies just moved to my town
Tonight (tonight being Saturday, October 3rd at 11:30 pm), I went to the German's house to celebrate the birthday of the maisas (fraternal twins in Spanish. I have no idea if I have spelled that correctly.) As usual, it was awesome. I love that family. I ate too many completos and cake and drank too much Canada Dry with lemon (delicious, by the way). All in all, a fantastic evening.
UNLESS, you count the terrifying story of the gypsies. I don't even remember how we came upon the subject, but first, let me describe the German's house. So I live in the campo but I live like two feet away from the plaza. I like to tell myself that this makes me a little bit more “cosmopolitan”. The German lives very close to me, but every time I am at her house I feel like I am in the middle of nowhere. It's only one street away from me, but she lives at the end of her street, very close to a cerro (hill) which makes the campo-feeling that much more...campo. It also doesn't help that there are two huge empty lots close to her house. Murdered people are probably buried there.
So we're sitting at the dinner table when the German's family reveals to me that gypsies have moved to town and they've set up a tent in one of the empty lots. I don't know how I didn't notice on my walk there this evening, but I was instantly petrified. Gypsies? In my town? Gyspies are so scary! They throw fake babies at you in Rome, they hand you cards with a sob story to distract you as they rob you, they are...nomadic. Gyspsies scare me. I think it goes back to the days when I was afraid of clowns. Clowns are nomadic too. And also scary.
Then of course, the story has to get much worse. Turns out that not only do the carabineros not care that the gypsies have set up shop in town and are stealing TV, BUT the gypsies in Chile traffic children! That's right, they steal babies! And do you know why they steal babies? They steal babies to sell off to circuses! I know, it seems crazy, but it's true!
Needless to say, on my walk home tonight, as I silently crept past the gypsy tent and saw the light from their TV, I felt like running.
It didn't help either that as I was shutting the gate to their house, the German and her host sister said, “Watch out for the gypsies...”
Gypsies are scary.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Santiago: Semana una
This post has been a work in progress for the past week. The first part is called Pato! and the second part is called Training, Random Notes, and the Human Rights Tour. Also, I apologize for the typos, I'm waaaaay too tired to re-read. Lo siento!
Part One: Pato!
Hola mi familia y mis amigos!
I made it! As I type this, I am sitting in my Santiago hostel, debating whether or not to shower or sleep but I am too caught up on the fact that I can see a bit of the snow-capped Andes from my window.
So everything went well! I was sandwiched between two people from San Francisco to Dallas, had a 5-hour layover in Dallas, sat next to a nice older man from Dallas to Santiago, stood in the wrong line for customs, had to go and stand in reciprocity fee line (damn, being an American!), stood in correct customs line, gathered all my things, cursed myself for bringing so much (but it's not that much because they are teaching materials too!!), and then finally caught a transvip taxi with a wonderful man named Pato.
Even though I've only been in Santiago for 2 hours, I've already had a really awesome cultural experience (besides the Mormons that were standing in front of me for the reciprocity fee who are on their mission and were trying to convert two old ladies in line with us). Enter Pato.
So our conversation (fully in Spanish I might add!) started when he asked me where I was going. I said the name of my hostel was the Hotel Londres and he kind of acted like he knew where it was but just to double check I told him the address and the main street it is off of. Once he realized I could speak a little Spanish—and by little I mean A LITTLE—he started asking me all sorts of questions.
Over the course of our 30 minute drive/ conversation, I learned a lot from Pato. First, he is thirty-five, he's been to Canada and Australia, I should take off my earrings and any other jewelry (because “I'm looking out for you”), that large tower in the center is lit up very nicely on December 31st, yes, the Andes are beautiful, etc.
He spoke absolutely no English, except when he told me his age he said, “twenty-five...treinta y cinco”. I laughed and had to tell him that he meant “thirty-five”. He only nodded slightly when I corrected him, I don't think he caught his mistake.
Pato was just very friendly. He was trying hard to speak slowly, and he was saying, “la significa es..” if he saw that I was kind of confused with a word he used. But my favorite part of my conversation with Pato was when he asked, “Tiene un pololo?” “No, Pato, no tengo un pololo.” (Pololo is Chilean Spanish for boyfriend).
Part Two: Training, Random Notes, and the Human Rights Tour
The past week has been a lot of fun but very busy! Training has been lasting until 7 or so in the evening, so we come back to our hostel exhausted. Training has been great though! I definitely feel sort of prepared to take on 25 Chilean students, ranging in grades from 5th to 12th.
Last night our field directors took us to a bar with 3 volunteers from the year-long program. They arrived in March and have been teaching for about 4 months now. They had A LOT of great advice. Their biggest piece of advice: "Be liquid." This will be a challenge for me, but I think it will be good for me as well. Their other piece of advice? Utilize the Chilean love of competition in the classroom. Oh, and use Frugeles.
A special note about Frugeles. They are these cheap, fruit candies. The flavors are pina, naranja, limon, manzana, fruitilla, and another one that starts with a "g". They come in a huge bag and are delicious! Expect me to come back with at least 5 bags.
Human Rights Tour: Today, we went on a special tour "de derechos humanos". The man who was our guide was a former political prisoner who was tortured. He was very friendly and extremely knowledgable. First, we went to a cemetary where there is a memorial (somewhat like the Vietnam Wall) for those who were disappeared and murdered during the military dictatorship of Pinochet. It was extremely moving.
We also stopped by Constitution Plaza, on the other side of La Moneda to watch the changing of the guards:
The changing of the guards is random, so you have to stumble upon it (which we did!) It's random to prevent protestors from staging protests.
Next, we went to una "Casa de Tortura". This was a site in the middle of a neighborhood that had once been a place where the dictatorship tortured people (fairly straight forward). The house isn't there anymore, but they are currently building a museum/ memorial.
THEN, we went to el estadio nacional...where they play futbol! While this was awesome for the sheer fact that I love soccer, the point of this stop was because the dictatorship used to keep and torture prisoners there.
After the stadium, we went to Villa Grimaldi which is a memorial and former torture site. It's a huge park with lots of memorials. It was freezing outside, and we were there FOREVER, but it was really sad. The saddest part for me was "la casa de recuerdas". It was a tiny house where family members had donated pictures and other things of the people murdered there. One woman had a glass case with her picture and a picture of a newspaper clipping with a picture of her dead body. According to the article, her body had washed up on the shore. It was way too overwhelming.
The brick rectangles represent the cells and the trees represent the prisoners at Villa Grimaldi.
These are train tracks that were found on the coast. The dictatorship used to tie prisoners to the train tracks and then drop them into the sea from helicopters and planes.
Finally, not too far past Villa Grimaldi, we drove by the prison where all the military torturers are serving their sentences. It didn't look too shabby--nice buildings, right up against the Andes.
So that is about it for Santiago: Semana una. I hope my Spanish is being used correctly in this blog post, haha. It's amazing how much my vocabulary has improved since I've been here.
Heading to Vina del Mar and Valpo next weekend! Bacan! (accento en el segundo "a". El significa es "cool".)
Hope you guys are well!
Abrazos (hugs),
Jessie
PS-My proudest moment: Connecting my cheap-o TruTech DVD player to our hostel's TV to watch 30 Rock:
Friday, June 19, 2009
Ugh, I wish I was better at technology
Sorry for the new blog. My old one was under my hotmail address and it wouldn't let me change it to my newly created gmail. I don't know what I did wrong.
So this is my new blog.
Oh, and I'm leaving for Santiago, Chile on July 13th. Get ready!
So this is my new blog.
Oh, and I'm leaving for Santiago, Chile on July 13th. Get ready!
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