Lost/Outdated Blog

July 10, 2008
(I wrote this, forgot about it, found it and figure I might as well post it-outdated and all. . .)
The first semester is technically finished, with the exception of a few loose strings and details to be managed. However, I said goodbye to the beloved students almost two weeks ago and it was as sad as I thought it was going to be. Unfortunately, I was PMS-ing when bidding farewell to my very favorite class and actually teared up in front of all of them while giving the “I had a great semester with you guys” spiel. They broke into some sad, sappy song and were rocking back and forth- half mocking, half- I don’t know. The funniest part was that later in the same evening, after they’d finished their final and I’d returned all my paperwork to the offices and was ready to head out to meet some favorites for a drink. I was walking toward the main exit (where, I might add, about 60 students were still lingering) when I heard some faux sobbing noises. Turns out it was a group of my students from class, mocking me, pretending to rub their eyes and bawling, ”boo-hoo”. Now you might understand why they’re my favorites! I finally made it out for beers with some of those students and had a great time. I’ve been anxious for them to finish all there finals so I can go out and play with them again- very fun, sarcastic group.
I feel really grateful for the groups that I had last semester and am thinking there’s no way I’ll have the same luck twice . . . but I’m hoping. I totally understand the teacher’s pet issues now, because my favorite students made ALL the difference to me. Cross your fingers for me please.

There is still about a month left before the next semester. My first week off was spent being really lazy and not inputting grades like I should have. I did spend one evening at Duoc doing makeup finals with students, but other than that, last week was lazy lazy lazy. I watched a couple movies, started to read a book in Spanish and am aiming to study some Spanish, specifically more grammar so I might return next semester with better speaking ability- not that it matters since I force English on my most basics of Basic (and Intermediate). I did make it out of town to visit a teacher friend of mine (Angie), who lives in Milipilla- a small town about an hour outside of Santiago. Since you know how much I love the air in this city, you know getting out of town is always nice, but especially to a completely new place, and better yet a small town where I have a tour guide. I had good pizza for the second time in five months there, took a walking tour and actually felt like I was in South America. We went out for drinks (which were notably cheaper than in Santiago), ran into some of her amigos and continued the night with them. We had been determined to go salsa dancing that night, but the only men willing and available at the bar, were TERRIBLE partners. Our hopes were up for a minute because they had the DJ cancel the regaeton and throw on some salsa, acting like twinkle toes, but when it came down to it, none of them had an ounce of rhythm. . . just some eager old pervs trying to get close to a couple of gringas. We had the music changed back and danced until we couldn’t keep them away anymore, then just practiced our Spanish over multiple rounds of piscolas.

Long Time, No Write

The end of the first semster is DONE. I cannot believe it, but month five is approaching- - rapidemente. In the beginning, I thought a lot about how the hell I was going to make it so many months without seeing my favorite little buddies and meeting the new buddies, whose births were expected after my departure, but with time flying so quickly,I'm now bogged by the thought that I only have 6 more months. Susan and mom are helping to ease the issue, reminding me that new babies won't be talking or walking by January, and the others won't be too different, nor will they have forgotten their favorite auntie Doods (sorry kathy).

Life is great here, for the most part, but it's just as mundane at times, as anywhere else might be. HOWEVER, I love my job here, which is a completely new experience for me. Aside from tending to the old folk's entertainment needs in San Francisco, I can't say i've ever really liked my jobs in the past. Hooray for me! Seriously, my students this semester were phenomenol and played a huge role in my decision to stay (I just hope I have such luck next semester). What stresses me out more is not knowing what i'm going back to. I totally sympathize with Mr. Benny and know exactly why he doesn't want to leave Korea. Unfortunately, I'm too easily distracted and can't follow a plan so well. A straight and narrow is hard to follow when you have ADD.

Speaking of paths, my immediate one is taking me on an exciting journey to the north of Chile and then to Machu Picchu. I'm going with two teacher friends, Megan and Renee at the crack of dawn on Friday morning. We're flying up north to Calama, then going to San Pedro de Atacama for four days, where I cannot wait to experience a nighttime desert sky. Among the few things I miss about Lancaster, the night sky tops my list, so it'll be a rare treat. When Shannon was visiting, we went with Rafael out to the country for the weekend, where his aunt and uncle (Anita y Lauta) have a place. They took us on a little drive out to the middle of nowhere to see the southern cross and the sky was AMAZING, but Lauta insisted it wasn't anything compared to San Pedro. We'll see. There's an observatory that I want to check out, if the prices are reasonable. On top of stargazing, I'll head to Valle de la Luna (Valley of the moon), which is meant to be viewed at sunset to maximize the light display on the rocks. It's all supposed to be incredible. . .

On Monday we head out on our EPIC bus journey to Cusco. . . this I CAN wait for. I will say that in my other trips, the bus journey proved to be really rewarding when scenery was nice- even the hellish 13 hour trip to Mendoza that should've taken 8. We'll leave from Calama to Arica, the northernmost city in Chile. From there, we'll take a colectivo (taxi) across the border to avoid time constraints with a busload of people at the border. In Peru, we'll take a bus from Tacna to Arequipa, then transfer again to get to Cusco. I have no idea how long these trips are going to take and kind of dont want to. It is a oncce in a lifetime opportunity, so I'm thinking posetively. I know my butt will be sore and crying, not thinking in those terms, but for now I'm excited. Once we get to Cusco (I hope by Tuesday) we'll do some 'sploring there and on Friday we take the train to Machu Picchu. I know, I know, I talked a lot of smack about train riders, but 1: all permits for hiking were sold out until September and 2: it's beneficial for the trails. . . . We'll spend the night at a hostel just below the ruins on Friday, where I hope we'll enjoy an evening of natural hot tubbing while celebrating Megan's 30th birthday. On Saturday morning, we get to actually see the ruins, then head back to bus tour hell (or heaven, who knows). Please cross your fingers that none of us suffer from altitude sickness while traveling- if you pray, ask for our protection =).

I hope this finds you all well. To the Seattleites, I'm damn happy for your sunshine. . . FINALLY!

I Heart Chile (sort of)

I recently talked to my mom for a while and was informed that she "thoroughly enjoys reading my blogs". I told her that she and my friend Renee seem to be the only ones who read it, and she reminded me that it's a great personal journal source and I should just write for myself, regardless if anyone else reads it. So in the spirit of remembering things 10 years from now, I wrote down some stuff that I'm totally missing in Seattle and totally loving here in Santiago. Hopefully,by December, my list of "things i'm going to miss" about Chile will have grown a bit. Here goes. . .

Things I love here: My roommates; the view from my apartment; my students; my boss; my new gringa friends; cheap wine; being able to use the preterit-FINALLY; being ogled by hot, 20-something year old Duoc students; ogling hot, 20-something year old Duoc students; Spanglish; speaking loudly about inappropriate subjects on the metro and NO ONE HAVING A CLUE!; my students; the very talented musicians on the Micros; the availability of ice cream; SOPAIPILLAS; deep fried hot dogs; terremotos; churrasco italianos; the price of produce; cookies; having the door opened for me every time I leave the building and come back home; being called “MEEZ!”; instant parties (parties start faster here than at Steve and Jaylene’s); empanadas

Things I hate: starers on the bus and everywhere else; line-cutters; being in a language bubble; impossibility of finding shoes in double digits (thanks mom. . . or dad??); five-step purchases (see previous blogs); never being able to split a freakin check at restaurants

Things I miss: Real coffee; real beer; my nieces and nephews; my potty-humor-enjoying friends; clean air; clean air; clean air; being assertive (well, not sounding retarded while being assertive); !!!!MEXICAN FOOD!!!; going out to breakfast; dim sum; walking Greenlake with Susan and Lily; telling stories to Ethan on my walk home from work; chatting with my mom on the way to work; having a lot of cell minutes to make such calls; being able to stop at Susan’s on my way home from work; only having a 15 minute walk to get to work. . . definitely don’t miss the work, though=); Tillamook extra sharp, aged white cheddar; goat cheese; string cheese (am I five?); Nancy’s plain yogurt; bulk bins at the Greenwood Market; last minute beers with Shannon; tennis and beers with Shannon; lazy Sunday mornings with cable TV at Bo and Mike’s; evenings around the fire pit at Bo and Mike’s or Amy and Rosy’s; (brace yourself). . . my cat, believe it or not!; aerobics with Shannon (believe it or not)

Things I’m going to miss: see above, under “things I love”

Two More Weeks

The end of the semester is now only two weeks away and while I'm really going to miss my students I am glad to get a break. WE've only had short ones since we arrived, so it will be nice to have that vacation mentality again- although, I can't complain. My hours allow for me to spend late nights shooting the shit with Rafael and a bottle of wine (or two, sometimes three), and meeting people for late dinners after classes. Definitely nothing like my endless hours at the Fokin' office in Greenwood =).

On top of prepping for finals and getting all the grades and make up quizes taken care of, I'm totally slammed trying to get ahead for next week. SHANNON'S COMING IN TWO DAYS!!!! Como se dice "Hallelujah!"? I was really excited, but I lack the ability to envision, so it wasnt until a couple days ago that it actually hit. I can't wait to hang out with her and laugh my ass off. . . as is always guaranteed in her presence. I feel lucky because my friends here are pretty understanding of my crazy sense of humor and I was really appreciating that about them recently (during a PMS-y/hallmark-y moment). So, fortunately I've not been deprived of great laughs in Santiago. Actually, I can say that laughing with my gringas has been my medicine, because there were certainly times when I wanted to go right back home.

Since she couldnt come after I was done with school, we're going to take a trip to the coast- Vina del Mar and Valparaiso (maybe go to the fancy casino in Vina, on the beach). Then, with our next two-day stretch we'll head to some smaller towns for a more "south american", small town feel. One, in particular, is called Pomaire and is supposed to be great for shopping- she can get it all out of her system in one day (i hope) and also for good traditional chilean food. Rafael's uncle has property outside of Santiago that I hear is really cool- we'll see about convincing him to take a couple a' gringas out of town.

I told Rafael about the fart machine that Shannon and I have so much fun with, and we're planning all kinds of schemes for after she gets here. I'm pretty excited to watch Flito-tito (rafael) flirt with someone on the metro as he cues me or Shannon to make the machine fart. We're also going to plant it under a couch cushion and let it rip when his fart-despising friend Patricio is sitting down. I have a feeling that Shannon, Flito and I are going to be the only ones laughing. Apparently farting is particularly gross here. ??? ha ha ha

It should be good times. I'll keep things posted. we should have some funny pictures and/or stories. These Chilenos won't know what hit them.

Reformed Chanchita

Many of you might not believe it unless you saw it, but I am a reformed slob. More so, I’m a borderline neat freak. Thanks to my roommate, I’m disgusted by clutter and dirty dishes. I was tolerant of his chanchito ways during the time he was employed, but now that he has no early morning wakeup calls and long hours at the office, I accept no excuses for the constant messes left in his wake. Strewn piles of dishes and newspapers, snack wrappers and empty beer/wine bottles have practically turned me into my sister Christine. I say practically because I at least wait until after eating my meals to clean up, but (unlike my old, living-alone self) I do clean up immediately. No dishes soaking in the sink for even an hour. No counter left unwiped. I used to make fun of Kathy for having a personal soundtrack of a swishing broom sound but now the noise applies to me, as well. It’s painful but I do try to hold out from cleaning up after him, and can usually last up to three or four days while crusty dishes accumulate in the sink. Elsa warned me not to give in because she’s desperately concerned about Rafael becoming accustomed to being a kept man, living with two tidy women. However, I am a cooker and there come times when I NEED the dirty dishes that sit in his pile so at times I break down. I was having people for Chinese dinner on Saturday and had three dishes to prepare, so I needed a lot of kitchen/sink space. Without thinking, I went ahead and cleared out the sink so the kitchen would be presentable when people showed, but since remembered a GIANT Rubbermaid container that Elsa sometimes uses to consolidate his disaster zones and hides in the laundry room. . . NOT E TO SELF, CAROL. Yes, next time, I will pull a Joan Willis/Elsa move and contain the wreckage. Elsa usually goes off on him about it, much like a bossy big sister, but she works long hours and isn’t around as much as I am. What I need is to learn some pestering phrases in Spanish so I can nag, nag, nag. But, when did nagging a man ever get me anywhere??

Mis Alumnos

Just a quick note about my students. I finally remembered to take my camera to school and asked the Basic guys to take a picture and they tried to charge me. I immediately heard moans and groans of irritation about a photo request, but obviously they obliged. Contrastingly, before I even asked to take the picture of my Intermediates, I had two or three students leaning into one another, ready to pose at the sheer sight of my camera case. It was cute. Cuter was the way they fluffed their hair, straightened their coats/scarves and arranged themselves like pros for the perfect picture. Silly silly folks. They are still my favorites though- the class where I was asked about getting ass. I'll be taking more pictures of my other classes soon, so you can see the object of my "Mary Kay Laterno" interest. . .

Dramarama on the Alameda

Right now, I’m enjoying my Nescafe (yes, taste buds can be trained), checking emails and listening to BBC World News. A few minutes ago, it occurred to me that I better send out notification of my livelihood to my folks in the event that they get wind of the student protests that went on yesterday right in front of my campus. With these things, I usually laugh it all off, like when she was concerned about me being ashed on, despite being more than a thousand KM from Chaiten. HOWEVER, yesterday’s protests were literally at the doorstep of my campus in barrio Universitario. I had no idea it was going on, until I stepped out from the metro and was stung with an unknown substance. My sinuses were burning and my lungs were killing me. I’ve been pretty sick, so I thought I might just be sensitive to the poorer air quality in that part of town (ha ha ha, I’m a Providencia snob! My neighborhood has trees, yours has protests!!) , but the closer I got to my building, the stronger it got and I realized something was off. When I rounded the corner to the entrance, the metal grates were pulled closed, with only about 5 feet open to allow Duoc students/faculty to pass through. As I walked inside, I noticed all the students were plugging their noses or holding their scarves over their faces, so it definitely wasn’t my flu-ridden sinuses just being sensitive to El Centro pollution. I got upstairs to the computer lounge and Megan confirmed that it was residual tear gas from some rowdy protests. I’d just missed them as well as the tanks rolling down the Alameda, with police tossing tear gas. GREAT! This brings me to BBC news, from which I got the full details, after the fact. It looked like an ugly scene, but no reports of anything really crazy. All my students are fine and my profe friends are too. Although, if any of you saw it, you might have caught a glimpse of my school and my metro stop- REPUBLICA- or unknowingly, one of my hottie McHottie students. And if that’s not enough dram for you, just hold your horses. I was on campus for a long time yesterday, since I have a three hour break between my classes, so I was hanging out in the teacher’s lounge trying to get ahead on lesson plans. During a potty break, I overheard some Chilenas talking about a “bomba” on campus. AGAIN?? (In case you didn’t hear about it, about a month ago, one of my classes was terminated because of a bomb threat) They continued to apply their eyeliner and fix their hair, so I wasn’t taking it too seriously. When I went back to the lounge, I was told to pack my bags and wait outside until further notice. The Carabineros were already inspecting the building as I walked downstairs and some of my students were coming to my aide to ensure I understood what was going on. They told me “profe, no worry to the bomba! Eeezajoke. Some students look now at the futbol game. They don’t want to make test today in the night.” They are so sweet. Indeed, the theory was a common one, that some students pulled a prank to get out of midterms while they enjoyed the big Colo Colo match. After waiting about 10 minutes, I was just about to follow the suggestion of another english teacher to just go home if I could find one of my 7 O’clock students to pass the word of class being canceled, when a megaphone announcement was made that classes were to resume promptly. DAMN! If ever there’s an excuse to enjoy a sopaipilla when you’re supposed to be back on the wagon. It’s impossible for me to ignore two fry stands within a 40 foot radius, if I’m standing still. The smell gets to me. So, of course I waited the threat out with a sopaipilla and some choppy English with a couple of my star students.

How many pesos does it take. . .

I just checked my bank statement and discovered a $15.00 international transaction fee. As you can imagine, I’m horrified, considering how many of these I might have racked up without being careful. There is one bank in Santiago where I don’t get charged the fee, but I must have had too much red wine one night when I went to the wrong ATM. I’ve been trying really hard to live on my meager teacher’s salary but last month I took a trip to Argentina, circumstances under which no financial rules apply- vacation, so, I dipped into the ol’ savings for that and vowed when I came back to not touch it until the next big trip. I’ve been budgeting splendidly - - I know my dad would be impressed. However, when I received my newly purchased and lost glasses from Susan, I was slapped with a $35,000 peso charge. That’s almost 90 bucks. On my salary, it’s a big fat slap in the pocket. So, I’ve been EXTRA careful in choosing the cheapest food if I ate out, but mostly I’ve been cooking at home, since- as I’ve mentioned before- the food ain’t great here. Well, I splurged on a Lomo Italiano yesterday in the “Casino” (cafeteria) at Duoc and am down to my last $4610 pesos (roughly $10US) - in coin form. No paper money left. I spent the last 15 minutes scrounging through my backpack, purse, coat pockets and all to see how much I might pull together. I even dipped into my “sopaipilla fund” (the 10-peso coin collection accumulated in the front pocket of my black purse) and counted up 46 coins. That’s 5.75 sopaipillas, if I go to the friendly guy across the street who sells them at a bargain 80 pesos compared to the 100 pesos-charge directly in front of the school. I’ve been off the sopaipillas for about a week now, but it was nice to know I could treat myself whenever I wanted, as long as that purse pocket was full. I know that having money to recharge my BIP card for the metro, this week, is mas importante, but the wanting-what-i-can’t-have is going turn me into a sopaipilla fiend. My students will wonder what happened to “meez carol”, watching me walk sketchily by the fryer stand, waiting for a moment to grab and dash or scrounging for coins on the sidewalk in front of Duoc. That’s great. I shouldn’t joke about it, because food really is like crack to me. ILOVEITINEEDITILOVEIT! Mom, if you’re reading this, don’t worry- I won’t get myself arrested over an 80-peso fried snack. I will definitely pay the ATM fee before resorting to petty crime in order to indulge my fried-food cravings.
The challenge I pose to myself is to see how long it can last me. I have a well-stocked kitchen, so food isn’t an issue, but transportation does take a chunk of my budget. As does socializing. I think I mentioned before that the old social butterfly of Carol is back. Only two weekends have been spent at home since I got here and the last one was only due to a terrible flu. Anyhow, payday is technically on the first of June, which falls on a Sunday, so I might be a weekend without cash. This shall be interesting. It’s during times like this I’m so happy it’s cheaper to eat healthy than junk food in Chile. No creative Top Ramen cooking in my kitchen!

Santiago Showers

We had a two day break from the rain, but it’s back and in full swing. I’m totally remembering the winter of 2006- specifically that )#(@)(*@&ing November when it rained- no, poured- for the WHOLE month without rest. As many of you know, I packed terribly. My friend Renee, who I’ve gone on a couple trips with, teases me that I pack “everything but what I need”. It’s totally true and embarrassing since I usually wear the same 5-6 outfits in any given month. Yet I still cannot pack. Anywho, the point of telling that is not to make myself look bad, but to point out that I left my Gore-Tex jacket in Seattle (along with all my other coats!) and was getting a little soaked until I got an umbrella today. Other Chileans are not as underprepared. In fact, they put Seattleites to shame when it comes to all-weather gear. Sure, we have REI and Gore-Tex to outfit us in the Northwest, but do we dare wear moonboots or snowboarding pants to English class when it’s raining cats and dogs? Definitely not. My students, and many passersby in other public places, are sporting the crap out of them though and it’s super amusing to me. ESPECIALLY when I see the Mariah Carey wannabes, with their all white snow-fits on; wedge-heel, faux-fur-trimmed moon boots and a flowery umbrella. Sans the wedge-heel boots, the snowsuits wouldn’t look so ridiculous if geared up for more heavy-duty outdoor activities, but for god’s sake to protect you from. . . RAIN??? Too, too funny. I guess if they (the Mariah Carey wannabes and others with full snowsuits) had been at the bus stop the other day, they’d be dry and laughing at me with my wet ass, so who’s to judge. Either way, it’s been a great point of amusement for me . . . being all tough and desensitized to the rain.

Homesick, at last

So, it’s been a tumultuous couple of weeks, having begun to experience my first bout of homesickness- well (no offense to all the grownups in my life) mostly sickness from missing nieces and nephews and regretting that I won’t meet Kathy and Dave’s baby OR little baby Willis-McInnis until December. By that time, they’ll be practically be walking and talking. Or so it feels. More than missing out on snuggles with wormy little bundles, I am sad about missing the time with my sisters. With all five of their kids, it’s always been a really special bonding time to spend with them, just hanging out and visiting with nothing at all to do, except chat, snack and hold babies. Last week was especially hard for me and I had to temporarily remove all evidence of little kids from my room/wallet because photos sent me into weeping fits and it wasn’t pretty.
I got an email from Susan telling me that Sophia requested a seventh spot be allowed for Doodoo (the endearing nickname she uses to refer to me) at her 6-guest maximum party- for her 6th birthday. Being hypersensitive to anything niece/nephew-related, I teared up in the teacher’s computer lounge on campus and was absolutely mortified. . . THANK GOD no one saw! Como se dice “emotional wreck of a gringa”? Although I couldn’t stand to look at pictures, I somehow thought I could handle a phone call with them. . . handle, yes. But without crying my eyes out? Umm, NO. I called Susan’s kids first but Sophia was already in bed, so my little Benny-bop (Daniel) chatted with me for a few. He sounded SOOOO grown up, which made me REALLY SUPER DUPER sad. They change so fast in a really short amount of time, so I was imagining all the good stuff I’d missed out on and would miss out on. When he sang me “I’ve been workin’ on the railroad” I absolutely lost it and I think my roommate was worried that someone died back home. I don’t know how to explain in Spanish that I’m a COMPLETE sucker when it comes to these kids, so I just buried my face and hoped he wasn’t watching me. Pitiful, pitiful. After that I couldn’t bear to call Ethan and Fiona since the last time I talked to them I was traumatized by how grown up they both sounded. It was fun to talk to them and always amusing when Ethan insists on story after story. I do miss the request, “carol, can you tell me a story?”. . . “umm, Carol, can you tell me another story?” and another and another and another. I’d go broke on calling cards if I told as many as I used to in Seattle, when I had 1500 minutes/month. I’m feeling stronger now, so I’ll be calling to tell some cuties a story or two this weekend.
It’s been raining the last few days and somehow I think it’s actually made me feel better. I get all blue and reclusive in Seattle, but here it hasn’t bothered me. I must be a true Seattleite now, if I’m admitting that a little rain washed away my blues. DAMN! It was really coming down, like the fall of 06. I remember getting SOAKED every day, being soaked in my classes, because some asswipe (or many) would drive through a puddle really fast, not giving a shit about me or other pedestrians. Well, with such experience as a pedestrian and living in a rainy city, I know to look ahead, and when cars come racing toward me, I tend to back off away from the curb, anticipating a splashing. Well, last night I observed some not-so-bright folks at the bus stop. I was standing and three people were sitting on the bench. The first time a car zoomed by, we all got a little splash, but not much. HOWEVER, I did take note that there was a deep puddle right in front of the stop- which hadn’t been so noticeable before, in the dark. So, when a second car came zooming towards us, I stepped away a few feet and behind a sign. EVERYONE on the bench just sat there and had the crap splashed out of them. They all cursed the driver and seemed a little dumbfounded. Well, a few minutes went by and a third car came zooming by. Do you think they thought to stand up and move, or hold their umbrellas up as shields? NO. Do you think they learned anything by the FOURTH time it happened? NO. I was curious to see if they’d sit through splashes (and I mean SPLASHES, no delicate sprinkles) a fifth time, but the damn bus came. I was thoroughly amused. I know it’s terrible to say, but for hell’s sake, the dogs here are smart enough to look both ways before crossing the street, so how couldn’t they have figured out a solution?? Either way, it made the wait more enjoyable. I shouldn’t derive too much entertainment from it, because the road side splashing karma will get me when I’m back in Seattle.

Hola Mendoza!

God bless the long weekends here. These Chileans know how to work a federal holiday- when it lands on a Thursday, squeeze Friday right on in with it. I love it. With my 5 day weekend, I took to bus riding over to Mendoza, Argentina with Renee. What was going to be a 3 days/nights trip ended up being much less thanks to an Andean traffic jam and a painfully long wait at the Chile-Argentina border. Try five hours. In freezing cold weather . . . in Crocs.
We left Santiago around 1:30 and as soon as we were out of the immediate vicinity of Santiago, I was reminded of just how beautiful this area is. Sometimes I forget that clean air still exists. Even more impressive were the views as we began our ascent through the Andes. I’d heard from people who traveled to Mendoza a few weeks ago that the ride itself was one of the best parts of their trip, but I was not really prepared for how surreal and beautiful it was. The switchbacks were a bit daunting, though, especially considering that our driver was taking corners a bit faster than I would’ve in a 16-foot high vehicle, but we made it unscathed. The traffic jam was terrible. We were in stop and go motions for about 2 hours- meaning, stop for 30 minutes, then go for about three. The view was pacifying me for a good while until the sun set and it was really cold and my seat uncomfortable so all I could think about was getting the hell to Mendoza. We made it to the border by 6:30 and were told by our driver’s very friendly co-pilot that we’d be waiting three or four hours. This was a Chilean estimate, so we figured it would probably be about four to five, but were hoping for three. With a long wait ahead of us, we ventured out to check out the “shopping” and Renee enjoyed her first real-life encounter with snow (not counting the fluff at Mountain High). Sorely underprepared with chips and cookies for the bus ride, we stood in line for food for a good 90 minutes- the whole time, not fully knowing if they’d accept our Chilean pesos or offer any food we might eat. Ok, food Renee might eat, as she’s a vegetarian and I’m well . . . not picky. We figured there was nothing else to do while we froze our asses off- and me, my feet. (Maybe I should’ve succumbed to Chilean peer pressure where Croc donning is concerned. My feet would’ve been happier) There were three little snack shacks open for several hundred people and I enjoyed the first taste of Argentine beef . . . and prices. A giant, grilled beef sandwich on fresh bread was only about a buck fifty. The border patrol seemed a bit inefficient, with only 6 booths open to filter everyone through but by 11:30, we finally boarded back on the bus and were on the final leg of the trip to Mendoza, where we arrived at 3:30 AM. Both of us were kind of stressed because from the terminal it appeared that everything was closed and the only people inside were passengers camping out on benches. We wondered just how we might get to our hostel with no map, only an address and no Taxis in sight. However, we did find transportation and made it safely to Las Legaras, where we were greeted by a very friendly and chatty young man, Fabricio. Although we’d been dying for a bed, we couldn’t sleep immediately so we got the low-down on Mendoza from Fabricio, who happens to be some kind of tourism apprentice and was more than happy to tell us about all the hot spots. Finally, we lay down in our 6-bed, dormitory style room and slept through snores and strange moans until later in the morning when the lovely maid woke us up with vacuuming. What a start, huh?
Well, when we finally made our way out for some marathon shopping (as prices, style and quality are pure shit in Santiago). Boots and coats were on the list, but we were sidetracked by bargains of other sorts. I did end up getting some nice belts at a night market, but no boots to be bargained for. Renee ultimately convinced me that shopping in Buenos Aires would be better. She only has two weeks to wait, but I have to wait until Shannon arrives in June, so it was a bit tough to give up on the quest.
While my style of boots weren’t really easy to find, fantastic food, coffee and wine were. Very cheaply as well. For our first meal, we enjoyed a leisurely, huge lunch. Salads, pizza, pasta bebidas and gourmet coffees- all less than $20. All of the food was great, but our first parilla was AMAZING. Renee and I were wandering, looking for a place that might accommodate my carnivorous mood and her vegetarianism when we ran into Sandra (another English teacher) and some of her friends. We ended up at a place called Caro Pepe and I will NEVER forget it. I was thinking the whole time, how much my friends and particularly my food-loving family would love it. You might’ve guessed that it’s a buffet, but with freshly grilled-to-order meat. Chicken, fish, sausage, beef, lamb . . . all cuts too, which was interesting. There were many things consumed I couldn’t identify, but enjoyed no less. On top of that, there was a pasta bar, where fresh pasta of your choice was cooked in front of you with your choice of sauce. ADDITIONALLY, can I just say that Argentina rocks salads- - especially at Pepe’s. What with produce abundant, it’s a mystery why the hell you can’t find a decent salad in Santiago for under $12 (going rate for any Caesar salad). Everything was delicious. The desert bar was fantastic as well, but rich enough that I couldn’t bear a second trip. I regretted not getting the fresh crepes with dulce de leche though. I imagined real hard though so I’ll just report that they were amazing too.
With thoughts of maids vacuuming while we slept, we opted to stay the night at the apartment that Sandra and Serra, her friend visiting from Phildelphia, were renting. Renee and I enjoyed a cozy night on the futon and were able to sleep in without disruption from any maid. It was so pleasant we decided to stay our last night there as well. Something I came to momentarily regret doing when I realized hot water wasn’t available. I’ve taken many cold showers before, but never where it was so cold it HURT. I’ve never scrubbed and rinsed so fast, but still was shivering violently for several minutes- mind you it was quite cold in Mendoza, contrary to pre-departure weather reports read in Santiago.
We went out for another parilla and I enjoyed yet more steak and salad =). Afterwards, we met up with Sandra’s bus buddy (she talks to more people than I do when I’m home), Rodrigo, and went to a discotheque with him and his friend. The place was about 15 minutes outside of Mendoza, on the side of a highway. It looked like a scene from the movie “Roadhouse”. Inside and out. Inside was ridiculously packed and fortunately I didn’t learn the hard way how long it took to travel from one side to the other- namely, from where we were dancing to the bathrooms. Seriously, crossing about 40 feet through the sea of people took a good ten minutes or more. I give Chilean men credit for only having obnoxious catcalls, but having the decency to keep their hands to themselves. I can’t say how many times my butt/arms/waist/everything were grabbed. On top of that, what was more annoying were the men who kept trying to talk to me with deafening music going on, after they clearly learned I don’t speak Spanish well enough to communicate beyond the noise. One guy thought he could speak English but he made NO sense- was either too drunk or I was really deaf- and kept following me around telling me “look me! I talk to you!”, when he spoke. This wasn’t working with my tactic for ignoring him! Most men would just walk away after I told them I couldn’t hear or understand them (in Spanish), but not Richard. Others were persistent but not to the extent that he was.
Our last morning was spent enjoying a real breakfast, with real coffee (though the pending return to Nescafe remained at the back of my mind). Breakfast at restaurants doesn’t exist in Santiago, so we were loving the eggs, coffee, toasted sandwiches and fruit salads. Since we had buses leaving at similar times, we shared a cab to the bus terminal then bid farewell. The return trip was looking more promising as soon as we boarded . . . bigger bus, wider aisle, deeper recline of the seats, less passengers and movies! Also, the bathroom was on the lower level so we didn't have to worry about stinkers wafting towards us, especially since there was a "no caca" sign on the door. Even the experience at the border was better on the return, with only two and a half hours of waiting. We got back to Santiago after only 8 hours, just in time to prepare for a busy upcoming week. Thankfully I didn’t have classes at 8:30 on Monday morning like Renee, but still plenty to do.

Put a Croc in it!

Right now I must vent. I have a bone to pick with Chilean women (and some men, for that matter). After moving to Providencia, which is primarily a middle-upper class neighborhood, I noticed right off that I was getting stink eye whenever I wore my red maryjane Crocs- even to the market. At first, I thought it was just paranoia baggage from so many people poking fun of them in the past, but realized that it was in fact the shoes getting me the disapproving once-overs. I really don’t care whether people like my shoes- I dealt with Lili constantly insisting I kill them- I just find it ironic that in such a fashionably backward city, people are so critical of one plain ol’ pair of Crocs. Seriously! Perhaps I failed to mention it, but the mullet has made a forceful comeback here, as well as the “raton” (as in New Kids on the Block rat tail) and women accessorize with camel toes =(. I’m no fashionista, but clothes I see in department stores and donned by women here look a helluva lot like the Mervyn’s Sunday ads from 1998. Some I might go so far as to compare to K-mart ads, so I don’t know what the issue with cheap clothes is. Granted, they are plastic, but they really are so practical and comfortable, and have more weight and durability than flip-flops, so it’s not like I’m running around barefoot. Unless I have a crush on the produce guy, I feel no urge to do myself up for basic errands especially if I’m in a hurry. For some reason they aren’t acceptable for public display but I say Croc that! I’ll continue to wear them, with a big proud crocky smile.

Getting Some Ass

There’s not a whole lot of anything exciting to report but I do have a funny story from one my intermediate classes- specifically my favorite one that I mentioned before. In our last class on Thursday we had a pretty grueling lesson and since they were all really good sports I decided to slow things down the last 15 minutes, then it ended up being Profe Carol’s informal Chilenismo lesson. I told them about the new slang my roommates and friends were teaching me and asked them to teach me new ones, which they were thrilled to do.
They are pretty curious about what I do outside of the class and recently started probing for more details. “Carol, do you have a Chilean pololo yet?” (pololo being boyfriend); “Who do you live with?”; “Have you tried Piscolas? Piscoblancas?” (cocktails). We were going back and forth with the English and Spanish lessons and talking about cool things in Santiago when one of my students raised his hand and asked “Carol, did you get any ass in Chile yet?” As you can imagine, I was COMPLETELY caught off guard and decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume I heard him incorrectly before going off about how inappropriate the question/suggestion was. So, I asked him to repeat himself. Again, “Have you had any ass since you got here?” Still thinking that there must be some misunderstanding I asked him to spell it. Sure enough: A-S-S. Confused and in denial that anyone in this class would be so disrespectful, I was ready to point to my butt to confirm what he was talking about when he continued with “you know, like the churrasco sandwiches. You can have ass Italiano (meat, tomato, mayo and avocado sandwich) or ass completo (meat, mayo and other goodies) and it’s really good. They have it here in the cafeteria.” I then realized that “ass” is an actual term used for a cut of beef and there really are ass sandwiches to be had in Santiago. I assured them I would go get some ass the next time I ate on campus. Naturally, I was in hysterics for a couple minutes after that and when I explained to them the English phrase “getting some ass” they were totally rolling and understood why my mind was nowhere near sandwiches and why I looked so pissed when asked about getting any.

Bienvenidos sobrina nueva

I just got word last night that Kathy, Dave and Elliot welcomed little Elli-Kay into their world and am really excited! A little sad that I can’t meet her just yet (and snuggle snuggle snuggle her), but soon enough- as long as she’s not walking or talking before I get back I’ll be ok. Bless her heart; I predict she’s turned Dave into a softy overnight . . . ok maybe not, but in time. Tim reported that Kathy had it “easy” and baby is fine, so seems all is well in the recently-enlarged Willis-Strahl household. The news came in handy for lessons at Duoc as we’re reviewing information about families, so my students got the low down on Kathy’s delivery (well, not ‘the low-down’, but you know what I mean!).
Classes at EscualaBellavista started on Monday but not as smoothly as I would like. Last week, when I happened upon the school, I stayed a bit to take a placement test and expected that it would actually be taken into account when assigning me to a class. No. The focus of my first class was basic introductions . . . “hola, me llamo. . .”. Sheesh, I was asking for cervezas the first day here, so I was definitely beyond all of this. After addressing it to the school director, and specifying EXACTLY what kind of grammar assistance I need/want, he assigned me to another class that would start the next day. Well, then I was stuck trying to understand verb conjugations in the past and future tense (precisely what I told him-the day before- I knew nothing of and needed to learn) and was completely lost since they sound completely different than present tense. A third assignment ended up being pretty near-perfect and the instructors are both really cool, so it was finally a productive day yesterday (just call me Goldie talks). I’m going to try and figure out some kind of compensation for losing two days because they failed to place me more accurately. I only have two schools for reference but my experience is that Chilean schools are pretty unorganized and a little too laid back, but “when in Chile . . .” Cousin Craig gave me some advice for learning Spanish more efficiently and I’ve been trying to hold to it- one bit being to think in Spanish as well as always speak it- with Gringos or Chilenos and to practice speaking while biting down on a pencil/pen placed on molars. The pencil trick I’ve yet to try, but thinking and speaking as much as possible in Spanish yes. I feel like my 12 year old self, walking home from school practicing my German aloud, ignoring weird stares from passersby- only now I’m 29 and the passersby can actually understand what I’m muttering so it’s pretty funny. I tend to tone it down, the closer I get to my building since my neighbors all walk a lot. Don’t want them to think I have turrets or something. I thought that just living here and studying on my own was heavy duty immersion (and it is, actually), but taking classes is really jump-starting something in my brain. Too exciting! Geeky, I know, but you all know how much I like English being optional. Although yesterday being the trying day that it was, coming home to an English speaker would have been better than a cocktail. As I mentioned before, Rafael MUTTERS his Chilean, so I must stay incredibly focused when talking with him. I spent the entire day (minus one and a half hours) speaking Spanish- to my students/ my teachers/ faculty at Duoc, then came home to beers with Rafael and was SO frustrated at not being able to express myself and only understanding about half of what he says. It all worked out and actually was glad to understand that he has co-workers who want private lessons and much to my delight they are willing to pay a lot of money. Hello piggy bank. I had a good long chat with Shannon in Seattle afterward and it got all the English out of my system- we are both excitedly making plans around her pending visit in July during my semester break. Although I will probably pay a visit to Seattle and Utah to see new babies and participate in Samara’s non-bachelorette party, I am staying here until December or longer. Before I left, five months seemed a sufficient amount of time, but in reality I think it will be at that point when I’m actually establishing myself. So, for anyone interested in paying a visit to the deep south, I am here and rearing to host.

Still Going

The apartment and neighborhood are still peaceful and the roomies are proving to be good picks. Both Rafael and Elsa are really laid back and SUPER patient while I drag out what should be 30 second exchanges for 2-3 minutes. Elsa has a lot of Chinese friends, so she’s used to speaking slower and actually enunciating her words- something that Chileans just don’t do- so I enjoy chatting with her a lot and am happy to be able to understand most of what she says. Rafael, on the other hand, is freakin marble mouth. If I’m tired, I just nod a lot and pretend, but mostly I do try since they are both so helpful when communicating with me. It’s really amazing to me just how patient most Chileans are when engaging with me in Spanish. I sometimes give up and say “no importe”, but they always cheer me on to keep going, until we reach an understanding. It’s a little embarrassing when whatever my point was, really wasn’t anything interesting and they just spent 5-10 minutes (sometimes more) playing charades with me and sharing dictionary duty.
Those days will soon be behind me since I signed on to a Spanish class, starting next Monday. Four hours being taught, then directly on to four to six hours of teaching. I’ve been holding out on paying for classes because the lovely DUOC was supposed to provide us English teachers with 60 hours of free lessons, but nothing’s happened and I’m sick of being muted by language barriers! The school is in a really cool barrio (neighborhood) called Bella Vista, where I’ve only spent minimal time so I’m excited to be a regular for a couple weeks, gain my bearings and hopefully make some fantastic finds. I was originally in the area in search of two Asian food markets, where it was rumored I could find fish sauce, dried lemon grass and cheap coconut milk, but all I found was my new Spanish escuela. Food proved to be a good motivator to get me out roaming Santiago, because I asked around about where to find “international” food markets and they pointed me to another barrio adjacent to Bella Vista, so I walked around there for another couple hours. No markets, but great finds anyway and always good to be familiar with yet another area. Taking the metro (the underground) is fast and convenient but terrible for becoming oriented in this new city so five hours of roaming on my day off did me good.
I AM pleased to report that I found coconut milk (just not cheap-$6/can) and curry paste ($5/400g) and feasted last week on red curry. On Friday I had a couple of teacher friends over to share the Thai pleasures and we all hung out with Rafael and his buddies for a bit. Elizabeth speaks Spanish really well and acted as translator between Renee/Carol and Rafael/Rafael’s friends when all other efforts failed so I actually got to know a little about him. He has a pretty good sense of humor and knows how to let loose. He’d mentioned that he was having a party on Friday, and given that on Thursday night I came home to find three gigante trays of jell-o shots and a huge jar (2 gallon-ish) of Chilean sangria (it’s not really considered Sangria, I just can’t remember the name) I expected a whole houseful, but just the six of us. Yes, he made us help them with the shots and “sangria”. My assistance was minimal since I have classes at 8:30 on Saturday mornings but it was a good way to break in the first weekend as roommates. Turns out, though, that I could have got away with “shooting” all night, because my Saturday class was interrupted after only 15 minutes because of a bomb threat- all I heard was “calma”, “rapido” y “bomba” so I skedaddled pretty darn fast. I hung out with about 200 other people in front of the school until the end of my class time, just in case but no return to class. I did get to practice Spanish with the whole bunch of my T/TH intermediate students- they’re the ones who act as my Spanish teachers outside of the class and they love it, especially when it comes to the double Rs. . . I’ll only admit it here, but they are my favorite class. I might even go for beers with them before the semester is over!

For the most part I’m loving life here. I’m getting used to always having the door opened for me when I come home and sometimes the elevator button pushed as well. A little awkward for me but I remind myself it keeps one more person employed. This is something that Chile does well- employs people with incredibly mundane jobs. My favorite is how in many shops, you have to make three stops to make a simple purchase. I’m not talking about expensive items either- my first experience with it was when buying a bag a candy (bribery) for students. You tell one person what item you want, who writes out a notice for you to deliver to another clerk (who’s usually inconveniently across the store), who takes your money and writes yet another notice for you to take to ANOTHER person (again, across the store) from whom you finally retrieve your purchase. I try not to, but I usually get a little pissed when stuck in these circumstances, since I hate shopping as it is and their strategy just makes it worse. I do love the street food here though and cheap wine, as well as super friendly people and lots of eye candy. A lot of head turners but no incidents of whiplash to report . . . I’ll stick with just looking for now because Chilean men have a reputation for being really macho and clingy, meaning if you go out on one date they think you’re their “pollola” (girlfriend). Actually I had my own experience with this, but he waited until the second date so definitely no third. Too bad, but you all know how much I love me a clingy man. I’ve been in the market for Chilean friends to practice Spanish more and also have some local insight on what to do in Santiago and cool spots for weekend trips. So far, I’ve had some offers from people wanting to practice their English and I’ve lucked out that they’re people I’d actually like to hang out with, not just for the sake of learning Spanish. We’ll see.

!Hola Providencia!

I am enjoying the second really quiet day since moving out of Oveja and actually feeling a bit lonely. Living alone for 7 years in Seattle was great and I never thought I could stand to have roommates again, let alone 21 who I never met before and who I’d be working with as well, but I guess I’ve been hungry for more socializing. I should have predicted it, given how long it always took me to break away from slumber parties at Samara and Mike’s - - bad TV, greasy breakfasts and shit-talking is always better with some company (yes, I shit-talked while alone in my place, but I think Luci might have been listening). Anywho, I am quite glad I didn’t opt to get a place on my own because I’ve reverted back to my social butterfly days and how sad would I be without even a cat to talk to at home???
Saturday afternoon, I took to wandering the streets of Providencia (my new hood) without much purpose except to find a grocery store and the closest bus/metro stops. Luckily it was a day off because I actually got lost for a bit. I was laughing too hard. . . “where do I live?”. Unfortunately that’s not something that any passerby could have helped me with, so I just wandered and wandered until I happened back onto Avineda Holanda and was glad that I only bought a small (and light) amount of groceries. I’ve since memorized the address (quick thinking, eh?) and know other neighboring streets really well so I shouldn’t be caught in the same jam again. After my search mission, I enjoyed a nap in the new double bed (good hell, I can’t tell you how AMAZING it is to sleep in a real bed!!!!) with the window open and some fresh, non-downtown air floating in and was slightly “disturbed” by noises unidentifiable in my half asleep/ half awake state, when I realized it was birds chirping! I was suddenly excited and surprised by said excitement until I realized that I hadn’t heard birds chirping in a VERY long time. Downtown life is fun and all, but I need me some trees and peace from traffic noise. Hola Providencia!
On Saturday night, some fellow-teachers had a house warming party and I stayed out until 7 on Sunday morning (something I thought impossible a month ago, but I haven’t lost my stamina!) so I slept away the better part of Sunday morning to early afternoon- a little embarrassing as a first impression to my new roomies but I remind myself that the Chilean social scene generally tends to be nocturnal so no worries. They are both easy going and I had a good long chat with Elsa. Rafael is always missing in action, though I’d rather that than a messy couch potato roomy. I’m also pleased to report that I moved in with the two people in Santiago who recycle, what a relief. I’ve been continuing a green effort here myself, with public transit/walking, line-drying clothes, short and cold showers (though not always by choice) and buying local produce, but there was NO WHERE to recycle anything at Oveja and certainly no compost bins, so garbage garbage garbage and it hurt a little.
Elsa was disappointed with my lack of experimentation with “real” Chilean food, pointing out that ‘completos’ (hotdogs or grilled pork/beef sandwiches with tomatoes, sauerkraut, mayo and other unidentifiable yet delicious ingredients), ‘italianos’ (sandwiches with grilled meat, avocado, tomatoes and HEEEAAPS of mayo) papas mayo, papas fritas are, in fact, not Chilean cuisine. What??? They are really abundant and cheap but not the best for your cholesterol. The sandwiches could be healthy, but for some reason mayo is a staple here and people apply it to recipes in disgusting quantities. Every time I have an italiano, I end up with at least 2-3 tablespoons of excess mayo scraped off the edge of the roll. Papas mayo is one of my favorites- I’ve consumed more potatoes in the last month than in the last 10 years. Seriously. Alejandra makes the best papas mayo for almuerzo at the Oveja. I balanced my massive potato salad consumption with giant heaps of tomato/cucumber/carrot infused spinach salad. Now it’s on to healthier home-cooked meals since I actually have access to a kitchen. Elsa told me where to get good seafood so I can try making some real Chilean food- seems that any nice seafood places in Santiago are ridiculously expensive, and I’d rather cook it my way anyhow. I can’t believe how much I miss cooking with a month of limited access to a kitchen. I already have plans for Persian BBQ night as well as a paella party and if I can find some ****ing coconut milk and curry paste, or ingredients to make from scratch, we’ll be having a spicy Thai fest too. As I expected, ethnic food is not easily found in Santiago, but the search will continue and for now a couple of great sushi finds are getting me by. Cooking healthy at home is economically advantageous too. Ironically processed junk food is more expensive than produce and fresh bread. So, I’ve been eating the crap out of tomatoes, avocados (paltas) and freshly baked baguettes.
So one last little note for all of you reading who go back with me to California. . . I found out one of the women in my group came from LANCASTER. How crazy is that?? Not as crazy as the fact that she moved there from New Orleans. How the hell does that happen? We had a laugh about it, because she gave the same answer to me that I always give people (especially non-Californians) when asked about where I’m from: “oh, some small town northeast of LA in the valley- you won’t know where it is”. Too funny, because I did know where it was and ALL about it. We get to share some inside, white-trash jokes now.
Now, I’m off to go explore the neighborhood with better navigation and shop for closet essentials- all my slacks are becoming more wrinkled by the minute and I need need need to not be living out of a suitcase.
P.S. To all my Seattle animal-loving homies, I’m pleased to report that little Luci is doing stupendously well at her new home and is currently going by the name of Mao Mao Chan in the spirit of being part of the family! Jeanne warned me to save some of my travel funds for kitty psychiatric care and a custody battle upon my return. . . I think I can hang with limited, supervised visits though.

Ciao Oveja!

Right now I’m enjoying some solitude, as I’m the last person left at the hostel. Being the procrastinator that I am, I left planning all my Friday and Saturday lessons until the last minute and had no time to move everything into my new grande departemento today when everyone else left. I am quite excited to sleep in a bed with a real mattress and no sounds of traffic to keep me awake. I must say, though, that as claustrophobic as this place was at times, there were never any blowouts or drama ensuing like you might imagine.
The last three nights our number was down to about 5 people and it was nice to have some last minute pow-wows before parting our separate ways. Last night we had a particularly funny revelation about the lovely Oveja Negra (the hostel). We were all hanging out with Alejandra (our beloved hostel queen) and heard someone vigorously clanging the downstairs bell. She went down to check it out and from the dining room we heard a man’s voice and something like a request for “attention”. When she came back up, we were informed that up until only two years ago, Oveja was a brothel . . . all the honks and stares of passersby made sense at that moment- - what with all the nights we hung out drunkenly on the street-side balcony. Luckily, no one was ever propositioned for “attention”. There should have been a memo on that one, but it certainly wouldn’t have been as funny as finding out under last night’s circumstances.
Tomorrow is the big move to a real apartment. I found a place with two Chilenos- one man, one woman. Both seem really laid back and are around my age. The place is unusually large for Santiago and has a pool table inside =), large kitchen =)=) and a nice sized patio with BBQ =)=)=). My room is large, with a real closet (a rarity, I’ve found in apartment hunting) and floor to ceiling window overlooking a park. Rafael speaks very little English, so I’m confident that my Espanol will progress muy rapido. Whenever I’m in situations where English just isn’t an option, I magically have more Spanish power, so it’s exciting to project a language progress chart!! Especially considering how much more I speak now after only 4 weeks even while living with gringos. My effort with Spanish has earned me a lot of respect with students and the dynamics in my classes change the more I speak with them- - today I got my first Chilean kisses from students (three to be exact, but they were only cheek kisses- - no Mary Kay Laterno here, for those of you who might have some fresh ideas in your head!) and a few “hello Miss”s or “hola profa”. Hooray, I might actually be the “cool” teacher!!! Check back with me after the first round of quizzes.
I hope you all are enjoying magnificent spring weather –I hear Seattle is getting some sun. Sorry to you folks still snowed –in in Utah. I will enjoy the last moments of summer heat and sunshine here for you, before the cold hits Santiago and the smog takes over my view of the Andes. Thanks to all of you who are keeping me posted with emails, it’s always nice to get a taste of home and inside jokes, since (as you can imagine) Carol isn’t the easiest person to get - - at least for the first couple years. . . Ciao!

Work hard, play harder

The second week of classes proved to be much more rewarding - - still a lot of work and some stress but I'm definitely getting the hang of recycling lesson plans and teaching more spontaneously so it's more and more enjoyable. The construction workers, in particular, straightened out a lot. I consulted the English department director and had him behind me, with permission to kick people out of class, so I went into the second class with a MUY GIGANTE attitude and talked to them like I do my misbehaving two and three year old neices and nephews. . . somehow, it worked beautifully and they do exactly as I say. As bad as it is to admit, I kind of like it . . . har har har.

Last week we went to Gringo central for a St. Patrick's day fiesta with a bunch of other teachers and some of our new Chilean friends. Before heading to the Irish pub, I'd been introduced to a Chilean "cocktail" (if you will) called Jote- - coke and red wine. Because the pub was INSANELY busy, I ended up loading up on boxed wine and coke at a nearby convenience store with plastic cups and had my own little bar going on just on the border of the pub's patio. I realize it sounds blasphemous but it's actually drinkable, so I enjoyed me some all evening.

After a short week (only two days, thank you Easter vacation) I went to the coast to the "cultural capital" of Chile - Valparaiso- for the weekend. It was great fun to be roaming as a tourist and seeing a new place besides Santiago, especially one where the air is SOOOO clean and fresh. Not once did I feel end-of-the-day grime from city pollution/exhaust. I spent one day at the beach in Vina del Mar, a neighboring beach town and read all afternoon, which was a much-needed day of doing nothing. I met up with some of the other women teachers and we did sight-seeing, checked out the interesting architechture of the town, enjoyed some fantastic seafood and FINALLY learned to dance salsa! Salsa was indeed the highlight of my weekend (well, second to enjoying clean air). After a couple of cocktails and failed attempts to get the moves, I partnered up with a really determined Chilean salsa master who proved to be a great lead and had me swaying and twirling all over the place. Latin fever comes out in a very beautiful way out on the dance floor and I'm so motivated to learn a fraction of the moves I witnessed last night. Give me a year and I'll be part Chilean. . .

?Como se dice DISASTER?

School started on Monday but I didn't have any classes until Tuesday so I sat in on a class to get an idea of how a "real" English class was run. Pretty smoothly, I thought, until my first one on Tuesday evening - - hence the disaster notice. The university I work for has several campuses that are specific to different majors and apparently I'm stuck in the "construction"/"engineering" one. Soooooo, my first class was full of 30-35 year old male chauvinistic pigs who quickly learned enough english to make comments about my ass and other unmentionables. . . I played dumb, but made a point to face them the rest of the hour, as hard as it was to write on the white board without turning around. Definitely a case of karma giving me a swift kick in the ass- - pun well intended- -after all my whining about deprivation of male attention since I got here (it doesn't help that all the women in my group sport double Ds). The 90 minute class was dismissed after 45 and I was off to a rough start, but fortunately the class immediately after clase de assholes was really fun and motivated. I've had three classes since and it's been a much more positive experience, although the amount of work involved in lesson planning was sorely underestimated. Such is my new life as a teacher. In the next couple of days I'm hoping to secure a Spanish class for myself so I can make some more Chileno friends and break out of my gringo bubble. . . not to mention get some ideas for teaching. It's amazing how quickly I lost the student perspective after so many years spent in school.

lost in translation

Since everything finally slowed down after training, I have been doing more serious apartment/house/room hunting. Seven years in the same Seattle apartment made me forget what a gigantic pain in the ass it is to find a new place, particularly when roommates are involved (worse yet when we don’t speak the same language). Fortunately, there will be no moving of furniture involved, wherever I go. Yesterday I had the pleasure of meeting Gaston and Macarena, two Chilenos who own a house with a beautiful garden and patio. I ended up hanging out for a few hours to get to know them and find out about the area and it seemed like a perfect match until I asked her about how safe the neighborhood was at night. . . She told me that it was pretty safe except for some Friday nights the “dark people” come out to their club and are really loud and scary. Assuming she was talking about black people, I expected to hear the N word blurted out next and I was thinking how disappointing it was that they were not, in fact a perfect match for me. I must have had a weird expression on my face because she attempted to clarify, convincing me that it wasn’t such a bad neighborhood. She then demonstrated a vampire sucking blood and I realized that “dark people” actually meant goth. So, if I can negotiate the price down a tad, a seemingly perfect match will have been made!

Hola Santiago

After 22 hours of grueling travels, complete with three flights and two long layovers, I arrived in Santiago at about 6:30 AM on the 29th. Much to my disappointment, the sun was not yet up and I didn't get a view of the Andes from the plane. From the hostel, they look just like mountains in SLC, but still I remind myself they are the Andes and hold an appreciation for it since I might not have the view for long.



There are 22 TeachingChile participants here at the hostel and we all spent the last week wandering around trying to familiarize ourselves with the area, looking for the cheapest food and wine (both easily and commonly found). I got lost many times, but it's always good for me and never stressful as long as I have time on my hands. After two days I had the Santiago Centro and a small part of one more barrio down, but then took a little tram ride up to Cerro San Cristobal, which is the highest point in Santiago and from the view, I realized just how little I'd seen all week. So, a whole lot of exploring is in store for this weekend. . .



I was really inhibited with my Spanish the first couple days and was on mute, but that got old really fast. Dad and Dave would've appreciated it - - too bad they weren't here to experience Carol on quiet for themselves! Alejandra and Marcos are the couple who run the hostel Oveja Negro and are super cool. They hang out with all of the gringos eager to learn Spanish, very patiently engaging us in painfully choppy Spanish. It's pretty amazing how quickly things are starting to come together and how many new words I'm picking up everyday. I feel like a 2 year old on show with new vocabulary, only it's all in my head, reciting words for things as I recognize them. Ah geez, what fun.




This last week we were all busy with beaurocratic crappity crap with the school, sitting through training "briefs" for 8 hours a day to learn about the DuocUC way of teaching. Most of it was really helpful but it was difficult to get into a serious mode after being in such an excited, vacation mindset all weekend and only two days to decompress after a month of pure mayhem in preparing to get to Santiago. We had training 4 out of 5 days this week and one "free" day to get all of our legal documents notarized which ended up taking several hours of waiting in lines, messy finger printing and dealing with grumpy old policemen. We did get to visit our campuses and meet the English department crew. They were all really laid back and seeemed to have a strong rapport with each other- - always a good sign.



The weekend is here and full of promise, so I hope to return with a good story or two. Hasta!