Words of the Day:
arquero= Goalie
volante= defense
delantero= forward (position)
So good news: I've lost at least 5 pounds since I've been in Chile! Not entirely sure how this happened, since I feel like I've consumed more hotdogs, hamburgers and ice cream in the last month and half than in any other time in my life...But as my Food Nutrition and Culture professor loved to point out last year, humans can make a diet of pretty much anything and be fine.
In general though, I credit all the exercise I've been getting, intentionally and unintentionally. All my attempts to lose weight in the past that have relied on eating less have failed because I like food too much, so this is pretty much my only option. I'm not sure that inhaling smog is particularly good, but I'm hoping that the effects of being overweight are worse...
I've started running again, which has really been wonderful. I'd kind of fallen off from running much towards the end of last semester and I forgot how much I enjoyed it and how spiritual of an activity it is for me. Mostly though, all the walking I've been doing has been great and I don't mind it because if I vary my routes, I always get to see something different. At a minimum I have to walk for about 30 minutes a day to get to the subway to go to class, but since I hate the metro, I usually walk an extra 10 minutes so that I can ride the bus, where I can usually get a seat and listen to the performers who come on the bus to play guitar or sing, etc. Economic anthropologists would have a blast trying to figure me out: I am very stingy with money, but only when it comes to certain things. While I don't mind shelling out plenty of money to go on trips or sit in a café with a cup of coffee, I prefer to keep my transportation expenses to about $2 a day, or 2 metro/bus rides. This means that I often walk an extra hour to get between the Law School and the Public Affairs school and then 45 minutes to the Economics/Business School. It's a lot of effort to save a dollar or two, but it takes me through the entire center of the Santiago Centro, so I feel like I'm in on all the action. Add in an side of salsa, the occasional trip up San Cristobal or Santa Lucia and 4 hours of dancing on Friday or Saturday and there you go.
Recently too, I joined a soccer team! I forgot how much I liked soccer- I hadn't played since freshman year when I quit to run. It's very relaxed, practice 3 times a week, but make whatever you can. Funnily enough, the first practice I went to, we had a scrimmage. I ended up in goal, which was certainly interesting since I hadn't really tended goal since 8th or 9th grade, with the exception of one pickup game while we were in Santa Anita, Guatemala. Soccer's been a really great way to meet people and practice Spanish, because it's basically forced interaction- I have to be able to communicate in an informal way if I want to contribute anything to the game. Luckily, none of the other girls are particularly good either: many of them only started playing since they've been at University. I think it's going to be a really positive experience.
Monday, August 30, 2010
August 29: Valparaiso Part 3
Word of the Day:
Sea lion- lobos del mar (Sea wolves- not sure why they are a different animal in the spanish name, although come to think of it, they don't really look like lions either)
Our entire Tufts group went to Valparaiso again, which despite not being a new experience was simply delightful since it is pretty much my favorite place on earth. Mild exaggeration, but at any rate, I could stay there for days and just wander and photograph and gaze at all the color and ocean and art. Today's adventure was slightly less spontaneous than our last trip since we were with a tour guide, but he was quite knowledgeable about history and being a local, filled us in on a lot of interesting information:
-Slang in Valparaiso uses a lot of expressions with animals, such as calling clothspins "perros" (dogs), a child you are proud of "hijo de tigre" (son of a tiger), etc.
-The legend of Emile DuBois, a frenchman convicted of assasinations whose gravesite has become a local landmark and place to go for those who are wrongly accused of crimes. http://www.ciudaddevalparaiso.cl/inicio/patrimonio_historia_sxxi_nueva.php?id_hito=25 (Sorry, couldn't find a link in English)
-The effects that containerization, the Panama Canal and the end of the nitrate boom had on the city
-The effects that being declared "Patrinomy of Humanity" has had on the city and tourism, which hardly existed to the same level 15 years ago.
-The city's attempts to control their stray dog problem
As our guide pointed out, Valparaiso is a very "honest" city: it's impossible to see the good, beautiful parts of the city without seeing the average or poor areas as well. I think that's part of what I like about it so much although it also creates something of an awkward dynamic as you navigate the streets: most of the areas of interest are people's houses or are near them and unlike touristy areas of other cities, it isn't devoid of local residents. Ironically, however, neighborhoods that have been designated as special cultural areas are starting to face problems with vacancy because housing prices are so high and the rich would rather live in nearby cities such as Viña del Mar that have beaches, car access and are safer.
We went for a boat ride and saw the city from the water, as well as some absolutely adorable sea lions! We visited Gran Britania street, an area with good views of the ocean and Victorian architecture. Then, we had a nice seafood lunch in the port area, complete with an old guitarrist who sang "Valparaiso de mi Amor," a famous song about the city for us. Then we took "El Peral," an ascensor (elevator), to Cerro Alegre and Cerro Concepción, two of the most famous hills in Valparaiso. Lastly, we saw parts of "Museo Cielo Abierto" where we were hilariously accosted by two rambunctious youngsters.
All in all, an absolutely lovely day.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
August 25: Ferment
I realized today why I freak out so much when I think about my future after college. Oddly enough, I realized this while watching CSI: NY with my host mom this morning. She asked me if there were really gangs in the US. I tried to example some of the realities of inner city America as best as I could, despite not exactly knowing the words for race riot, deindustrialization, undercapacitation, migration, drug trade etc...Thinking all these issues back home made me realize that I am so scared about the future because I can´t decide what area I want to work in, never mind what specific career: I know I want a career that will be oriented towards solving social problems but should I try and make a difference in issues in the US or do I look for something international?
This is my fundamental crisis when it comes to thinking about careers: while it would be possible for me to work in both US and internationally focused organizations or institutions, its fairly undeniable that choosing one will lead me to make connections and develop skills which will concentrate me in one area or the other. Things were so simple when I entered college: I ^knew^ I wanted to work for an NGO, abroad, to ^make a difference^. Now, I´m starting to question that vision. Just one aspect of this- NGOs perpetuate certain cycles of dependence that I´m not totally comfortable with. So do I abandon my original ^good guys^ perception and accept the economic order and go to work for an organization like USAID or the World Bank or the IMF, hoping the greater good will win out? Or do I work on energy or environmental issues in the US or abroad? Do I become a lawyer or a teacher or a social worker or a.......?!?!?
I now know that you don´t have to leave the US to find poverty. So why am I so attracted to the idea of trying to make a difference elsewhere? There`s certainly a certain sex appeal in the idea of working abroad and the levels of poverty and inequality are certainly on a much larger scale, one that the US has arguably played a very active role in creating. Do I try and rectify the problems of the past? I feel like no matter what I end up doing, this will be at its core: rectifying the problems of interventions (economic and political), slaveries, immigration policies or energy policies.
Given the nature of our globalized world, the problems and inequalities in the US, which I truly believe have become a tremendous burden on our economy, have reprocusions elsewhere that we don´t even give a second thought. So by working in the US to rectify problems, am I really maximizing my purpose in the world?
Again, though, following the globalized world argument, in many ways, there is no such thing as a national problem anymore, so no matter where I work, I will be making a difference. Economic poverty in one place can lead to instability and demographic shifts which can lead to even more suffering.
Regardless of all my confusion, being here in Chile has undoubtedly been the right decision. Knowing Spanish will be invaluable no matter where I work as is the experience of living in a country that is ^developing^ and witnessing the debates and challenges that surround this condition.
Just one example of this is the ongoing debate about education policy in Chile. The current education minister is trying to privatize education and this, amoung other issues, has led to tremendous backlash. Today, across the cities, strikes on this and other issues led to much confrontation with the police. I witnessed one example of this at the architecture school. Students were holding a parro, (strike) in which they locked the gates of the school and refused to go to close. To force them to go back to class (I´m supposing), the police came which provoked the students more and lead to things being thrown, the use of a water cannon and just generally a bad use of everyones time in my opinion. While I can identify with the causes the students are fighting for, their actions don´t appear to me to be the best way to accomplish them. Striking every week makes the action loose its potency and throwing things at cops seems immature at best. From my totally safe vantage point, I was glad to finally see what a student strike/police confrontation looked like.
Anyway, short story of this post is, family/relatives/friends, when I make faces ánd evasive comments about what I´m going to do after graduation, it isn´t because I haven´t thought about it, but rather because I have an overdeveloped ability to overanalize things...The more I learn and the more experiences I have during college, the less sure I feel about where my path should lead.
Dear Gentlemen of Santiago,
I have several complaints/requests/pleas which I would like to direct to you.
1. The sucking must stop.
I can tolerate the whistling, the occasional "linda" because usually they're pretty tactful, as catcalls can go...Its a machista culture, I get it, but the absolutely vile kissy sucking noises held out for like 5 seconds are too much. NO woman will ever be attracted by it. CEASE AND DESIST!
2. Make up your minds on the hairstyles.
Long hair, spiked hair and dreadlocks can look fine if done properly, but must all 3 be done at the same time? Life is short, but is it really that short?
3. Please do not attempt to hit on me during my special coffee and newspaper reading time. You will likely be exposed to as much sarcasm as I can muster in Spanish and will not get my real number.
4. To the unfairly attractive suit wearing men of the Law School,
Marry me.
Sincerely,
Emily Clayton
1. The sucking must stop.
I can tolerate the whistling, the occasional "linda" because usually they're pretty tactful, as catcalls can go...Its a machista culture, I get it, but the absolutely vile kissy sucking noises held out for like 5 seconds are too much. NO woman will ever be attracted by it. CEASE AND DESIST!
2. Make up your minds on the hairstyles.
Long hair, spiked hair and dreadlocks can look fine if done properly, but must all 3 be done at the same time? Life is short, but is it really that short?
3. Please do not attempt to hit on me during my special coffee and newspaper reading time. You will likely be exposed to as much sarcasm as I can muster in Spanish and will not get my real number.
4. To the unfairly attractive suit wearing men of the Law School,
Marry me.
Sincerely,
Emily Clayton
Sunday, August 22, 2010
August 17-23: SanFic
Word of the Day:
largometraje-feature film (literally translates to something like "long measurement")
Last week/this weekend was the Santiago International Film Festival, known by its adorable-sounding-in-a-spanish accent acronym, SanFic. Featuring independent films of all genres from 30 countries, including Chile, in cinemas around the city, SanFic is a pretty good representation of the robust arts scene in Santiago. Since I will probably never be able to go to see independent film again for $2, I hit up 3 films, all incredibly different but wonderful.
The first film I saw, "Alamar"(To the Sea), was produced and directed by a Mexican team. The director was there for the screening and took questions which was awesome. Blending the documentary genre with fiction, it told the story of a young boy of half Italian- half Mayan heritage named Natan who is spending some of his last moments with his father, Jorge, before he goes to Italy to live with his mother permanently. They spend this time fishing in an area known as Banco Chinchorro, off Mexico's Caribbean coast, which ensured some of the most exquisite cinemotography I have seen in a long time.
The film also included other memorable characters such as Jorge's grandfather Nestor, who spoke his own comically unintelligible dialect of Spanish and Blanquita, a cattle egret, a bird "from another world," who I felt was a perfect metaphor for Natan himself. According to the film maker, the bird appeared in the film on pure chance, but ended up shaping its direction significantly. All in all, it was a delightful film about identity and our relationship with nature.
The second film I saw, "The Sentimental Engine Slayer" was a project of the Mars Volta guitarist, Omar Rodriguez Lopez, was quite trippy although not without its entertaining moments as well (Apparently, between a bit of time in Guatemala and adapting over things from Chile, I can understand dirty Mexican slang pretty decently.) Telling the story of the distopic life of Barlam, a teen in a seedy El Paso setting, the film presented so many alternate story lines that it was impossible to tell if all, none or parts of it represented his reality. Like a lot of the Mars Volta's music, it featured these scenes that played around with language- switching between English and Spanish, and featuring poetry like voiceovers where words were used in ways that seemed familiar but actually didn't have conventional meanings. Oddly enough, given that it was fairly disturbing, the film left me with a weird nostalgia for Texas, even though I've never been there, if you discount some time in the Houston Airport.
And lastly, I saw a documentary entitled "La tierra se quedó" (The Land Left Behind) which examined the problem of displacement during conflict in the Colombian countryside. Touchingly and humanly, through the stories of 3 individuals and their families, it illustrated a paradox I studied a lot last semester in my "Political Violence" seminar- where people in conflict zones are trapped between rebel forces and their opposition and cannot remain both neutral and safe. Threatened by both FARC rebels and paramilitaries, families were left with no choice but to flee, often more than once, as was the sad case for several families in the film. Their struggles with government bureaucracy, allegations of corruption, indigenous identity politics, rural and urban divides and childhood were also examined.
If only this went on every weekend...
largometraje-feature film (literally translates to something like "long measurement")
Last week/this weekend was the Santiago International Film Festival, known by its adorable-sounding-in-a-spanish accent acronym, SanFic. Featuring independent films of all genres from 30 countries, including Chile, in cinemas around the city, SanFic is a pretty good representation of the robust arts scene in Santiago. Since I will probably never be able to go to see independent film again for $2, I hit up 3 films, all incredibly different but wonderful.
The first film I saw, "Alamar"(To the Sea), was produced and directed by a Mexican team. The director was there for the screening and took questions which was awesome. Blending the documentary genre with fiction, it told the story of a young boy of half Italian- half Mayan heritage named Natan who is spending some of his last moments with his father, Jorge, before he goes to Italy to live with his mother permanently. They spend this time fishing in an area known as Banco Chinchorro, off Mexico's Caribbean coast, which ensured some of the most exquisite cinemotography I have seen in a long time.
The film also included other memorable characters such as Jorge's grandfather Nestor, who spoke his own comically unintelligible dialect of Spanish and Blanquita, a cattle egret, a bird "from another world," who I felt was a perfect metaphor for Natan himself. According to the film maker, the bird appeared in the film on pure chance, but ended up shaping its direction significantly. All in all, it was a delightful film about identity and our relationship with nature.
The second film I saw, "The Sentimental Engine Slayer" was a project of the Mars Volta guitarist, Omar Rodriguez Lopez, was quite trippy although not without its entertaining moments as well (Apparently, between a bit of time in Guatemala and adapting over things from Chile, I can understand dirty Mexican slang pretty decently.) Telling the story of the distopic life of Barlam, a teen in a seedy El Paso setting, the film presented so many alternate story lines that it was impossible to tell if all, none or parts of it represented his reality. Like a lot of the Mars Volta's music, it featured these scenes that played around with language- switching between English and Spanish, and featuring poetry like voiceovers where words were used in ways that seemed familiar but actually didn't have conventional meanings. Oddly enough, given that it was fairly disturbing, the film left me with a weird nostalgia for Texas, even though I've never been there, if you discount some time in the Houston Airport.
And lastly, I saw a documentary entitled "La tierra se quedó" (The Land Left Behind) which examined the problem of displacement during conflict in the Colombian countryside. Touchingly and humanly, through the stories of 3 individuals and their families, it illustrated a paradox I studied a lot last semester in my "Political Violence" seminar- where people in conflict zones are trapped between rebel forces and their opposition and cannot remain both neutral and safe. Threatened by both FARC rebels and paramilitaries, families were left with no choice but to flee, often more than once, as was the sad case for several families in the film. Their struggles with government bureaucracy, allegations of corruption, indigenous identity politics, rural and urban divides and childhood were also examined.
If only this went on every weekend...
Saturday, August 21, 2010
August 20: Nature in the City
Since we didn't have any classes today, a portion of our Tufts in Chile group decided to climb Cerro San Cristobal, the biggest hill right in the center of Santiago. It was an hour plus of really really steep climbing, the reason most people just take the funicular to the top. Although it wasn't a very clear day since it hasn't rained all weak, it was actually really interesting to see how bad the pollution is, as well as where it falls. We had a pretty decent view out towards the mountains, although the view out in the other direction was pretty much entirely obscured by smog. After resting at the stop by a statue of the Virgen Mary surrounded by plaques of gratitute for prayers answered, we had a picnic lunch replete with mote con huesillos, a traditional tea like drink made with rehydrated peaches and puffy grain. Cerro San Cristobal, if you disregard the views of the city, is an entirely different animal than the fast paced and crowded Santiago. It was great to be out in nature again, especially when we wandered into an entire field of copihue, bright orange flowers.
Friday, August 20, 2010
August 19: Casa de Los Espiritus
Today we had another Tufts in Chile outing with our "cultural monitors," to see a live theatrical production of the Isabella Allende book "The House of the Spirits." The theater was in Parque Arauco, a gigantic upscale mall in Los Condes. If I thought going to the movies had a sense of non-place, then this was 10 times worse. While it was gorgeous with lights and palm trees, I felt like my sense of place had completely gone out the window since the restaurants, style of dress and probably even speaking were exactly the same as they would have been back home. The production itself was quite enjoyable, as it mixed in really cool effects with screens and lights that added an element of film to live theater. Since I'd read the book, I felt that a lot of characters were too one sided, but the general themes that Allende wanted to address-class, human rights and women's roles were equally, if not more salient. Most of the time, though, I just couldn't help being intrigued by the irony of watching the play's criticism of historical processes and time periods in a space filled with an audience that was a product of what was being criticized. Without the violence behind Pinochet's regime that was one of the main criticisms of the play, who knows if neoliberal economic policies would have been enacted, making way for the super-elite that filled the theater. In this way, I almost felt as if the audience and their reaction to the drama was incorporated into the show itself. It was pretty meta.
August 18: Youth in Revolt
Word of the Day
Parra- student strikes
Santiago was pretty shaken up today, or at least the student age population was.
Chile has a very active student movement which was engaged in strikes in a lot of the campuses. Basically, the student movement is against the policies of current education minister Joaquin Lavín who is attempting to privatize the higher education sistem. While a lot of students are only involved in striking as a way to miss class, in a lot of ways I admire the student movement. While the majority of middle class American students have passively accepted the fact that ours is a higher education system where access to the best schools often means taking on seemingly absurb levels of debt, Chilean students aren't willing to just let educational assistance go without a fight. I've been blessed with a situation that will enable me to leave school with a reasonable amount of debt, but I have tons of friends for whom debt is a constant threat and preoccupation.
Student strikes are pretty normal in Chile though. A couple dozen people got arrested, some of the facultades had classes canceled, including the Public Affairs school. Meaning that I didn't have my econ class! Instead, I got to wander the city aimlessly for a few hours. I'd recently decided to try my hand at making a few photoessays on various themes, since I'm here for so long, and this led to an amusing/slightly scary incident. I was just photographing some buildings and graffiti when I was stopped by a police woman who asked what I was doing. I think what happened is that she thought I was photographing her motorcycle when I had taken an earlier shot. I pretended to be in a photo class that my friends are taking that attempts to explore the city through photography and eventually, this seemed to be acceptable for her. In retrospect, I probably just should have pretended to not understand Spanish. This has been a reasonably good strategy for dealing with people trying to sell me things on the street...
After a few hours, I finally went to my first class of "Copper, Globalization and the New Chilean Economy." It was a little different than I had expected. The professor followed the neoliberal line without deviation and spent a lot of the time bashing Latin America for the way it has managed its economies, which just felt sort of awkward. As someone who's only been involved in international development from the idea of "sustainable development," it was interesting to hear development defined without any people explicitly referred to in the definition: "reaching a organized, efficient and competitive society."
My problem with economics is exactly this: it proposes models are "correct", if you take out most of the real world factors and discount the people you will negatively effect with your policies. Despite the business and econonomics orientation of the class challenging some of my personal beliefs, I'm definitely sticking with the class because I am admittedly weak in my understanding of these areas as demonstrated by my failure to know the difference between Kondratiev, Kitchin, Kaplinsky, Juglar and Kutzenes curves and the economic thoughts of Wagemann, Ortega and Spengler (oy). At least I was ok on Schumpeter and "creative destruction." I was also really intrigued by what I'm pretty sure the professor introduced as the main "thesis" of the class: Asia has "gotten development right," leading to a tremendous need for raw primary materials which, if Latin America plays correctly, can lead it out of poverty. It's an interesting idea, although I'm not entirely sure I wholly agree with it because it disregards environmental impacts. Furthermore, while such a system would undoubtedly raise per capita incomes, without specific policies to address tremendous income inequalities, I don't know how economic stability would be attained in the long term.
I think it will be a good challenge to have a professor who I don't really agree with. Who knows, maybe I'll come out of class spewing the neoliberal gospel :P
On the way home, I ran into another protest, this one for the freedom of Mapuche (Chile's main indigenous group) political prisoners in Plaza Nuñoa, the "town square" of my comuna. I'm not totally sure of the number (around 50?) prisoners who the Mapuche argue are being held on political grounds, have been detained under Law No.18.314, an anti-terror law enacted under Pinochet. 30 Mapuche prisoners have been on a hunger strike since mid-July and the protest was organized to push for their release.This protest stayed peaceful, featuring speeches, traditional dances and a "war yell" as the police watched from a small distance.
This year is such a fascinating time to be in Chile. Between the bi-centennial, the student movement, Mapuche activism, earthquake recovery and struggles surrounding the election of the first right wing president since the dictatorship, the dynanism and conflict of Chilean society is constantly apparent.
August 17: Salsa Screw Ups
Today was my first Salsa class. As expected, it went somewhat disastrously, although was highly enjoyable. Our Salsa teacher is quite a character. He's Cuban, but he's lived in Chile for years and years so he's got Chilean slang down cold. To the point where every step we did was called a "hueveo," a word derived from the extremely multipurpose "huevon," a Chilean word roughly approximating "dude" that can be changed slightly to be used in pretty much every part of speech.
Extremely serious about salsa, he warned us not to be late or miss class, even if we were sick, and I wasn't entirely sure if he was kidding. He's also one of the more machista people I've ever met. He was lecturing us about how we all had to know the steps and then changed his mind and pronounced it the man's responsibility to know everything.
Other memorable phrases included:
"Tienes que agarrar la mina!" - You have to grab onto the chick!
Manejar la mina! - Drive her!
At least by this point, my dancing skills have improved that I am now able to let people lead me around without problem. So as long as my partner knows what he's doing, I can sort of passably get by, although I usually end up moving the wrong way and crashing into them or stepping on them or God knows what else. The good thing about Chileans is that compared to most Latin Americans, they're pretty bad at salsa(at least the ones in my class are, to avoid making unwarranted generalizations), although this can problematic when they think they are awesome just because they've mastered the most basic of steps.
At the end of class, the teacher asked if it was my first day. "Ahh, yes, that's why you're so bad." This bodes well....
Extremely serious about salsa, he warned us not to be late or miss class, even if we were sick, and I wasn't entirely sure if he was kidding. He's also one of the more machista people I've ever met. He was lecturing us about how we all had to know the steps and then changed his mind and pronounced it the man's responsibility to know everything.
Other memorable phrases included:
"Tienes que agarrar la mina!" - You have to grab onto the chick!
Manejar la mina! - Drive her!
At least by this point, my dancing skills have improved that I am now able to let people lead me around without problem. So as long as my partner knows what he's doing, I can sort of passably get by, although I usually end up moving the wrong way and crashing into them or stepping on them or God knows what else. The good thing about Chileans is that compared to most Latin Americans, they're pretty bad at salsa(at least the ones in my class are, to avoid making unwarranted generalizations), although this can problematic when they think they are awesome just because they've mastered the most basic of steps.
At the end of class, the teacher asked if it was my first day. "Ahh, yes, that's why you're so bad." This bodes well....
August 14/15: Clay Towns and Beach Towns- The Adventures Continue
Word of the Day:
clay- la greda
chancho- pig (Chile)
Today, the whole Tufts group had a trip to Pomaire, an artisanal tourist town just outside Santiago famed for its clay. Pomaire is a beautiful place, in its own humble way. It doesn't have any of the splendor of the Andes or the color of Valpo but it feels quaint and comfortable. Although it is specifically designed for tourism, we only saw other Chileans there, which was definitely different than other touristy places we've visited. We were lucky enough to spend the day with a family who live in the town and own some sort of artisanal center. We ate breakfast in their beautiful house, which was filled with portraits, paintings and beautiful objects that seemed straight out of a Better Homes and Gardens style magazine. After that, their daughter brought us across the town to show us the clay process. Clay, straight out of the ground, comes into Pomaire from nearby hillsides, where it is soaked, milled and packed into blocs called "quesitos." (little cheeses) Then, the clay in worked on potter's wheels to make simple yet beautiful objects in beautiful terra cottas that vary in color according to the soil they are made from. We got to watch potters at their craft which was amazing, because it only took them literally 30 seconds to make bowls or plates or vases. We also got a chance to try which was quite fun and gave us an idea of the skill required. Throughout, our guide emphasized the low prices paid for goods despite the physical labor required as well as the skill. She also mentioned that free trade was partly responsible for the dip in prices. While Pomaire's goods are famed throughout Chile, I suppose that they probably face competition from cheaper made Asian goods. On the whole, I'm surprised there isn't any sort of fair trade movement going on in Pomaire. While it probably wouldn't have much of a success within Chile, it would probably have some international traction, although I don't know how much of an international market their is. Ultimately, I suppose a lot of what determines the prices is a lack of respect for manual labor, despite how much skill it may entail.
We learned from an artisan how to make traditional chanchitos, good luck clay pigs for which Pomaire is famous. After a HUGE traditional lunch of cazuela, and several sides including penca, a sweet celery like vegetable, we went down to the row of stores to check out their wares and shop around.
All in all, it was a lovely, relaxed and graciously hosted day.
That evening, I went to the beachside town of Algorrobo with fellow Tufts in Chile-er Molly, her host sister and their friends. While Algorrobo is a huge resort in the summer, I really liked it this time of year since it was relatively empty. The water was beautiful- multiple layers of color surrounded by sweeping views of the coastline. The Chileans we hung out with were great- partying in Chile is very relaxed and fun and always includes fun music.
As absolutely fabulous as all this is, it's weird for me to be having so many great experiences all at once, especially with people who represent some of the wealthiest members of Chilean society.
I feel as if I've won some sort of lottery that's enabled me to jump up an entire income bracket in a matter of months: it's AWESOME, I'm extremely grateful for it, but its minorly disconcerting.
clay- la greda
chancho- pig (Chile)
Today, the whole Tufts group had a trip to Pomaire, an artisanal tourist town just outside Santiago famed for its clay. Pomaire is a beautiful place, in its own humble way. It doesn't have any of the splendor of the Andes or the color of Valpo but it feels quaint and comfortable. Although it is specifically designed for tourism, we only saw other Chileans there, which was definitely different than other touristy places we've visited. We were lucky enough to spend the day with a family who live in the town and own some sort of artisanal center. We ate breakfast in their beautiful house, which was filled with portraits, paintings and beautiful objects that seemed straight out of a Better Homes and Gardens style magazine. After that, their daughter brought us across the town to show us the clay process. Clay, straight out of the ground, comes into Pomaire from nearby hillsides, where it is soaked, milled and packed into blocs called "quesitos." (little cheeses) Then, the clay in worked on potter's wheels to make simple yet beautiful objects in beautiful terra cottas that vary in color according to the soil they are made from. We got to watch potters at their craft which was amazing, because it only took them literally 30 seconds to make bowls or plates or vases. We also got a chance to try which was quite fun and gave us an idea of the skill required. Throughout, our guide emphasized the low prices paid for goods despite the physical labor required as well as the skill. She also mentioned that free trade was partly responsible for the dip in prices. While Pomaire's goods are famed throughout Chile, I suppose that they probably face competition from cheaper made Asian goods. On the whole, I'm surprised there isn't any sort of fair trade movement going on in Pomaire. While it probably wouldn't have much of a success within Chile, it would probably have some international traction, although I don't know how much of an international market their is. Ultimately, I suppose a lot of what determines the prices is a lack of respect for manual labor, despite how much skill it may entail.
We learned from an artisan how to make traditional chanchitos, good luck clay pigs for which Pomaire is famous. After a HUGE traditional lunch of cazuela, and several sides including penca, a sweet celery like vegetable, we went down to the row of stores to check out their wares and shop around.
All in all, it was a lovely, relaxed and graciously hosted day.
That evening, I went to the beachside town of Algorrobo with fellow Tufts in Chile-er Molly, her host sister and their friends. While Algorrobo is a huge resort in the summer, I really liked it this time of year since it was relatively empty. The water was beautiful- multiple layers of color surrounded by sweeping views of the coastline. The Chileans we hung out with were great- partying in Chile is very relaxed and fun and always includes fun music.
As absolutely fabulous as all this is, it's weird for me to be having so many great experiences all at once, especially with people who represent some of the wealthiest members of Chilean society.
I feel as if I've won some sort of lottery that's enabled me to jump up an entire income bracket in a matter of months: it's AWESOME, I'm extremely grateful for it, but its minorly disconcerting.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
August 13: Contortions in Space
Words of the Day:
Popcorn=cabritas (Chilenismo!)
Whistle= silbar
After a lovely afternoon of hanging out in various locales in the downtown area including Patronato (cheap clothing central), Bellas Artes and yet another trip to Emporio La Rosa (Tried manjar chocolate, pretty much the best flavor ever invented) we went up to Hoyts La Reina to meet up with some friends and their tandem partners (students we are paired with who want to learn English) to watch "El Origen" the Spanish title of the movie "Inception."
Movie theaters and malls kind of weird me out with their non-place-ness, especially when I'm here in Chile. There are these advertisements everywhere for a phone service that say something like "Estoy lejos pero siento cerca" (I'm far away but I feel very close) and that's exactly the feeling in these kinds of spaces, exactly as if I were still in the United States.
While it's kind of amazing that humans have managed to create a globalized world in which one can participate in exactly the same activities in the same exact structures across continents, I also find it a bit disconcerting. I guess it's mainly because other than people, I don't miss home at all and want everything to be different, even though that's not reality.
Nevertheless, there was still a little bit of local color: Chileans have a custom of whistling during the previews or if the movie is screwed up that is highly entertaining.
One plug: go see Inception! It will warp your sense of reality even more than being in a non-place!
Popcorn=cabritas (Chilenismo!)
Whistle= silbar
After a lovely afternoon of hanging out in various locales in the downtown area including Patronato (cheap clothing central), Bellas Artes and yet another trip to Emporio La Rosa (Tried manjar chocolate, pretty much the best flavor ever invented) we went up to Hoyts La Reina to meet up with some friends and their tandem partners (students we are paired with who want to learn English) to watch "El Origen" the Spanish title of the movie "Inception."
Movie theaters and malls kind of weird me out with their non-place-ness, especially when I'm here in Chile. There are these advertisements everywhere for a phone service that say something like "Estoy lejos pero siento cerca" (I'm far away but I feel very close) and that's exactly the feeling in these kinds of spaces, exactly as if I were still in the United States.
While it's kind of amazing that humans have managed to create a globalized world in which one can participate in exactly the same activities in the same exact structures across continents, I also find it a bit disconcerting. I guess it's mainly because other than people, I don't miss home at all and want everything to be different, even though that's not reality.
Nevertheless, there was still a little bit of local color: Chileans have a custom of whistling during the previews or if the movie is screwed up that is highly entertaining.
One plug: go see Inception! It will warp your sense of reality even more than being in a non-place!
August 11: El Clinic
Skipping the part where I run across Santiago like a chicken with my head cut off, I had quite a pleasant late afternoon. I wandered around Barrio Lastarría/Bellas Artes for a few hours. These are the "hip" areas of the cities- cute boutiques, bookstores and cafes line the streets. Being the huge nerd that I am, I was enthralled by the bookstores. Although books in Chile can be absurdly pricey, something I'm guessing has to do with the dictatorship, bookstores here are wonderfully academically oriented and being independent, haven't got the same crappy Barnes and Noble uniformity that is the US bookstore scene. It's interesting to see what authors translate well- the alter-globalization movement, Paul Auster and Foucault were just a few names that stood out far more than they ever would back home.
After a wonderful 2 hours of rambling, I met up at Bar The Clinic with our monitores culturales, Chilean students who are supposed to take us to fun places around the city and help us through Chilean slang, culture, university life, etc. Bar The Clinic is a spin off restaurant of a popular satirical newspaper, The Clinic, named for the London Clinic where Pinochet was arrested. Essentially, it pokes fun at pretty much every major player in Chilean political/cultural life. But since, as pretty much all satire does, it leans left, it's got plenty of material with the current right government of Sebastian Piñera. As it was described to us in orientation, imagine the only news sources in your country are Fox News or the Daily show. I don't know if the Chilean media is quite that bad, but it's definitely interesting to see how an irreverant newspaper functions as a political opposition. It was also great to have the Chilean students with us to explain the humor, mainly derived from double meanings of words, that filled the menus which were designed like newspapers.
In culinary news, we tried terremotos (earthquakes) for the first time, Chile's answer to Long Island Ice Tea, except delicious. While pisco (grape brandy), white wine and pineapple ice cream might not sound enticing, they come together well and made for quite a happy evening :)
After a wonderful 2 hours of rambling, I met up at Bar The Clinic with our monitores culturales, Chilean students who are supposed to take us to fun places around the city and help us through Chilean slang, culture, university life, etc. Bar The Clinic is a spin off restaurant of a popular satirical newspaper, The Clinic, named for the London Clinic where Pinochet was arrested. Essentially, it pokes fun at pretty much every major player in Chilean political/cultural life. But since, as pretty much all satire does, it leans left, it's got plenty of material with the current right government of Sebastian Piñera. As it was described to us in orientation, imagine the only news sources in your country are Fox News or the Daily show. I don't know if the Chilean media is quite that bad, but it's definitely interesting to see how an irreverant newspaper functions as a political opposition. It was also great to have the Chilean students with us to explain the humor, mainly derived from double meanings of words, that filled the menus which were designed like newspapers.
In culinary news, we tried terremotos (earthquakes) for the first time, Chile's answer to Long Island Ice Tea, except delicious. While pisco (grape brandy), white wine and pineapple ice cream might not sound enticing, they come together well and made for quite a happy evening :)
August 9-12: Don't Panic.
I had figured this would happen. Although I was totally zenned out after the trip to the desert, this quickly evaporated once I realized that finding 3 classes that were
a) interesting
b)not impossibly difficult
c) not in conflicting time slots (accounting also for commute time across an entire city)
was going to be much more of a challenge than I had originally thought. A whopping 5 of the classes I wanted to take overlapped. Basically, after far too much running around from one side of the city to another, hair pulling, gnashing of teeth, consultations with the program directors, etc... I figured out a schedule that I hope will work.
Courses for the semester:
1) International Human Rights Law (Law School)
2) Latin American Economies: The Experience of Chile, México and Argentina (Public Affairs School)
3) Salsa (Anyone who has seen my pitiful attempts to dance with any degree of coordination knows how necessary this is)
4) Globalization, Copper and the New Chilean Economy
a) interesting
b)not impossibly difficult
c) not in conflicting time slots (accounting also for commute time across an entire city)
was going to be much more of a challenge than I had originally thought. A whopping 5 of the classes I wanted to take overlapped. Basically, after far too much running around from one side of the city to another, hair pulling, gnashing of teeth, consultations with the program directors, etc... I figured out a schedule that I hope will work.
Courses for the semester:
1) International Human Rights Law (Law School)
2) Latin American Economies: The Experience of Chile, México and Argentina (Public Affairs School)
3) Salsa (Anyone who has seen my pitiful attempts to dance with any degree of coordination knows how necessary this is)
4) Globalization, Copper and the New Chilean Economy
August 8: Yet Another Despedida
I'm almost glad I got sick on the last day, because it made it so much easier to leave. There were still so many things that I wanted to do that I didn't have the time, money or language skills to undertake. I wanted to talk more with Roberto (the hostel owner) and his family to better understand their lives. I'm so curious how they view the hourdes of tourists that come into San Pedro. There were still so many places I hadn't explored and since every second of the day looks different in the desert, I wouldn't have minded simply sitting in one spot for a long long while. But the most nagging thing that tempted me to stay was the urge to explore the reasons behind the overall poverty of the place, beneath its slick veneer. How can poverty exist in a place with obvious economic stimulus, $40 tours and restaurants at double Santiago prices? What I suppose is that it has a lot to do with lack of resources, education, discrimination against darker skinned people of Peruvian/indigenous descent (although I might be misapplying a US inspired race lens to the situation) and possibly even exploitation.
This trip (along with experiences from several others) has made me aware of how passionate I am about issues surrounding housing. The experiences I've had in the last year whether seeing the often brutal complexities of the US public housing system with LIFT, being in homes in rural Guatemala and now seeing the extreme variation in quality in Chilean homes has convinced me of the centrality of this issue in bettering peoples lives. Of course, these experiences have also made me extremely grateful for the incredible stability of my home life over the years I spent in my creaky, quirky, 18th century farmhouse. I'm very glad to announce that I will be most likely working on an internship with a Chilean NGO known as Un Techo para Chile (One Roof for Chile), which essentially works to better inadequate housing conditions. While I won't be working directly with housing issues but rather their effects, such as lack of access to education, I think it's going to be a great fit.
This trip (along with experiences from several others) has made me aware of how passionate I am about issues surrounding housing. The experiences I've had in the last year whether seeing the often brutal complexities of the US public housing system with LIFT, being in homes in rural Guatemala and now seeing the extreme variation in quality in Chilean homes has convinced me of the centrality of this issue in bettering peoples lives. Of course, these experiences have also made me extremely grateful for the incredible stability of my home life over the years I spent in my creaky, quirky, 18th century farmhouse. I'm very glad to announce that I will be most likely working on an internship with a Chilean NGO known as Un Techo para Chile (One Roof for Chile), which essentially works to better inadequate housing conditions. While I won't be working directly with housing issues but rather their effects, such as lack of access to education, I think it's going to be a great fit.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
August 8: Highs and Lows
We woke up at 3:30 am in order to be ready for the Geyser Tour that left at 4. Oy.
Things went well for the first hour of the ride: excellent stargazing kept me occupied. Things got dicey in the second hour when our van, in which I was seated in the back with a strong smell of exhaust, started going on roads that were unpaved and generally not very roadlike. We had also neglected to take altitude into account: we were 4km up in the mountains, not 4000m. Yikes.
Altitude sickness or car sickness or something caught hold of me. Before we even arrived, my weak stomach had had enough, warranting a pull over to the side of the road which attracted everyone's attention and led to a parade of remedies. Oxygen, two types of pills, another round of vomiting, a random healing treatment by a women who was convinced her energy would help me, coca leaves and a strange herbal tea later, I finally felt well enough to make it through the ride back.
Although I had had some reservations about them, the geysers really were phenomenal. While I was expecting 10 or so, there were at least a 100 and probably more.
I wish I could have enjoyed the experience more, but now I know to be better prepared when it comes to dealing with altitude and poor roads. The mountain views were great as well and there was lots of wildlife, such as vicuñas, adorable llama cousins.
The ride home was one of my favorite moments on the trip as well. After passing through Guatin, a valley filled with cactus, we descended with the purple of the Andes on one side and the Salar de Atacama on the other. Simply gorgeous. As we drove in through a particularly poor section of the town that I had never noticed before even though we were staying nearby, Victor Jara's "Las Casitas del Barrio Alto" (Essentially the same song as the Weeds intro for any fans) played out on the radio. It was a moment shot through with eye opening irony, the perfect way to end a self absorbed uncomfortable morning.
August 7: Unidad
Words of the Day: Portuguese Edition!
Exquisito= awkward, strange, weird (unlike Spanish where it means really good)
Quente= hot (temperature)
embarazada= embarassed (unlike Spanish where it means pregnant)
Today started out less than propitiously, but wound up being phenomenal due to several interesting turns of events.
Despite waking up with more than adequate time for the tour to Las Lagunas Altiplanicas that I had bought a ticket for, due to miscommunications, I missed it. Apparently, they were going to pick me up at the Hostel but I had gone to their office. An hour of frantic phone calls and running around later, it was clear that $40 was down the drain. While the Yankee thrift part of me was weeping at the waste, the adventurous side kept whispering "APROVECHAR". I knew I couldn't just sit around moping and had to do something to use the only full day I would have to the max.
The problem was that my traveling companion was off sandboarding for the day, leaving me alone. Plus, all the morning tours had left. But in a stroke of fabulous luck, while strolling by the tour agencies to look for options I ran into a group of 3 French girls I had met on the Valle de Luna tour the day before. They were going biking nearby and invited me to join them.
Turned out to be my favorite part of the trip. As the ultimate self-hating tourist, the person who wants to see everything but also be away from the hordes, being self propelled for a morning was wonderful. While there were plenty of other people on the path, it certainly wasn't an excessive number and the sight of desolate reddish cliffs, grassy valleys (with tufts as tall as me) and icy mountain streams which we frequently had to ford lent a feeling of adventure.
The man we rented the bikes from recommended heading out to Grito del Diablo also known as Quebrado de Chulaco, a canyon with a zig-zag formation. When we finally got up to the Canyon mouth, the girls wanted to have lunch. Given the lack of planning that had gone into my morning, I had planned on eating when I got back. So, leaving my bike with them for safe keeping, I decided to go in and explore the canyon on foot.
Best decision of the trip. Oddly enough, no one else was there. It was the most alone I have ever been in my life yet never have I had an experience that made me feel so ALIVE! The silence of the place was deafening, but made me realize how incredibly noisy I was: my footsteps, the slosh of my waterbottle, the click of my camera and even at my stillest, the loudness of every breath.
Being there around the seemingly infinite rocks made me think of Pablo Neruda's "Residence on Earth," a collection of poetry that my Spanish teacher had introduced us to last semester. Essentially, through, Neruda introduces a philosophy that the only way to find happiness and peace is through accepting the circular nature of things and their subordination to time. There is a unity in all things, he argues, something that everything has in common but yet is often obscured by humanity's frequent inability to get over ourselves. For me, it was impossible to deny the existence of unidad in such a place. Seeing my weakness and smallness compared to the vast cycling of the landscape was oddly comforting for something that I usually find frightening or at the very least as a stress inducing challenge to go get things done. Instead, I was left with a feeling of incredible thankfulness: I realized how much my life has been blessed with beautiful and incredible moments and people. Until then, I honestly think I had taken this study abroad opportunity for granted, rather than seeing it as something for which I am incredibly privileged. Here I am, at barely 20 years old, half way across a hemisphere and being witness to such amazing things.
After joining up with the group and biking through the canyon a second time, we decided, since we had a little time left, to bike uphill to "El Tunel," a mirador from which the whole valley could be seen. Although the ride was strenuous, especially with the little altitude boost, it was tremendous.
Bidding goodbye to the girls, I found an albahaca empanada (cheese, tomatoes, herbs= closest thing in Chile to NY style pizza flavor) for lunch and a tour to the Salar de Atacama, a salt flat with lakes, for the afternoon.
Our tour group was great: we were mainly young Spanish or Portguese speakers, so the guide spoken in Spanish the whole time. We visited:
-Laguna Cejar- three times saltier than the ocean so you can float. That is, if you can stand the cold. Gorgeous, but I only braved the water for about 1 minute.
-Ojos de Salar- perfectly circular deep fresh water pools side by side- one green, the other blue. Swimmable, although I passed...
-Laguna Tebenique- My favorite! Shallow, big lake where we watched the sunset.
While we snacked and watched the sun go down, we had an interesting conversation about the differences between Portuguese and Spanish, travel and Iberian colonial legacies. We were the last tour group to leave, which meant that the stars were coming out as we returned. By 7:30, the sky was literally filled, all the way down to the horizon, including the Milky Way visible from one side to the other. Across the flat, the lights of tiny pueblos glistened and blinked happily. Certainly one of the best all time van rides of my life.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
August 6: "See that the rocks have touched time"
Word of the day:
animita: small roadside shrine to loved ones
We arrived in San Pedro a little before noon. The town was so unexpected because there is literally nothing on the road up to it, save a few animitas that grew increasingly ominous as the bus slowed down considerably or rounded twisting curves.
San Pedro has an incredibly unique smell: the dust, clay and lack of moisture are palpable. The town itself, or at least the touristy parts of it, are constructed from adobe that has been whitewashed, giving it a unique look as well. There's a small central plaza, a church, several blocs of tour agencies, restaurants etc. and a large cemetary.
The majority of the 4000 residents however, live in less than ideal conditions, some which could even be described as shameful. Rudely constructed from cardboard, wood scraps and corrugated metal, many of these houses seemed even more precarious than some of those in the worst areas of Santiago.
We were picked up Roberto, the owner of the hostel where were were staying in his ancient turquoise truck. With long black hair, even longer than mine, he seemed exactly like a character from an Southwestern movie. The hostel itself was perfect for what we need, comfortable beds, bathrooms, a kitchen and hammocks constructed around a central common area. Roberto×s family lived in part of the compound, including presumably his mother and father, an old man with no hands. The whole relaxed atmosphere of the place and the different cast of characters from upper middle class Santiago made it seem worlds away.
With no time to lose, we headed back to the centro to look for a tour for the evening. We decided it would best to check out Valle de la Luna (¨Moon Valley") for a tour that lasted until the sunset.
Our tour started out from a mirador overlooking the whole valley and checking out the mountains, which the ancient Atacamenian people viewed as gods and goddesses.
From there, we went to check out Valle de la Muerte, so named because it is so arid and saline that no life can exist there OR because a Belgian priest tried to name it "Mars Valley" but was misunderstood because of his accent.
Interfacing with the desert was such a different experience than interfacing with a new city, the only kind of exploration Ive done in a while. While cities are such a celebration of all that it means to be human, the deserts presence signifies your utter negation.
From there, we went on to Valle de la Luna, so named because its strange surfaces look like the moon from above. It was really quite stunning, especially as we got to hear the crackling of salt and mica layers contracting as the sun set which sounded almost like raindrops falling.
Finally, to watch the sun's final plunge, we climbed the Big Dune. Although there was a gigantic crowd of people, it was still a very intimate moment with nature. We sat quietly, humbled as the sun's descent painted a panorama of colors across the mountains and rocks, leaving purples, reds, yellows and blues so strong it appeared as if there were lakes. Quite simply put, it was phenomenal.
August 5 and 6: On the Road
It takes 20 hours to get from Santiago to San Pedro de Atacama. Which sounds horrible, but actually was quite pleasant. Because of the way we timed the journey, we were on the bus during much of the night. Semi cama seats were a must, but were incredibly comfortable because they went back really far, were roomy and plush. Far better than the dozens of rides I've taken on the good ole Fungwah buses in the last 2 years.
I know I seem to rant about this in every post, but being outside of Santiago is absolutely fascinating for anyone like me with an interest in rural- urban relationships. About an hour from luxury highrises, high speed metro rises and hip nightlife are people tending fields by hand, plowing with horses and living in incredibly modest homes at best. I've really been wondering lately if the reason labor is done the way it's done in the countryside because of the high levels of labor available relative to land available. All this despite the depopulation that has occurred with massive levels of internal migration to the cities where now 80 percent of the population lives. Regardless of what economics would say about Chilean farm labor, there are most definitely two different visions of Chile. This is not to say that countries are unities by any means but in Chile, urban and rural differences never cease to surprise me with their salience.
Another thing that never ceases to fascinate me about Chile is its variation. Not only does Chile vary tremendously from North to South, but even in one area, vegetation and terrain seem almost comically diverse. Palm trees, cacti, flowers, evergreens and decidious trees cohabitate rocky hill sides, rolling hills and beach side regions.
A few hours in, we came up to beautiful views of the ocean. It was more of a brilliant blue than I`ve ever seen, almost uncapturable with photography. Surrounded by rolling dunes, ocean views and colorful houses, the overall effect was incredibly serene and calming.
Other fun/interesting aspects on the ride included:
+ A presumably bootlegged version of "The Prince of Persia" with Russian subtitles
+ A gigantic windfarm down to the ocean!
+ Mists that came down and covered the hillsides
+ Rocky hillsides with cacti featuring a lot of grafitti about the urgency of preparing for Jesus' second coming.
+ Cacti fences to mark property lines and keep in livestock. Genius.
+ The suddenness of Coquimbo, La Serena, Vallenar and Antofagasta= it seemed as if they arose from absolutely nothing.
And finally, in the morning, we arrived in the desert immediately after we left Antofagasta. It was as sudden and unexpected as the city itself was. There was almost nothing, few cars and even less vegetation. Once we grew nearer to San Pedro however, the Andes came into view, strange and distorted when surrounded by sand and rock.
I know I seem to rant about this in every post, but being outside of Santiago is absolutely fascinating for anyone like me with an interest in rural- urban relationships. About an hour from luxury highrises, high speed metro rises and hip nightlife are people tending fields by hand, plowing with horses and living in incredibly modest homes at best. I've really been wondering lately if the reason labor is done the way it's done in the countryside because of the high levels of labor available relative to land available. All this despite the depopulation that has occurred with massive levels of internal migration to the cities where now 80 percent of the population lives. Regardless of what economics would say about Chilean farm labor, there are most definitely two different visions of Chile. This is not to say that countries are unities by any means but in Chile, urban and rural differences never cease to surprise me with their salience.
Another thing that never ceases to fascinate me about Chile is its variation. Not only does Chile vary tremendously from North to South, but even in one area, vegetation and terrain seem almost comically diverse. Palm trees, cacti, flowers, evergreens and decidious trees cohabitate rocky hill sides, rolling hills and beach side regions.
A few hours in, we came up to beautiful views of the ocean. It was more of a brilliant blue than I`ve ever seen, almost uncapturable with photography. Surrounded by rolling dunes, ocean views and colorful houses, the overall effect was incredibly serene and calming.
Other fun/interesting aspects on the ride included:
+ A presumably bootlegged version of "The Prince of Persia" with Russian subtitles
+ A gigantic windfarm down to the ocean!
+ Mists that came down and covered the hillsides
+ Rocky hillsides with cacti featuring a lot of grafitti about the urgency of preparing for Jesus' second coming.
+ Cacti fences to mark property lines and keep in livestock. Genius.
+ The suddenness of Coquimbo, La Serena, Vallenar and Antofagasta= it seemed as if they arose from absolutely nothing.
And finally, in the morning, we arrived in the desert immediately after we left Antofagasta. It was as sudden and unexpected as the city itself was. There was almost nothing, few cars and even less vegetation. Once we grew nearer to San Pedro however, the Andes came into view, strange and distorted when surrounded by sand and rock.
Monday, August 9, 2010
August 4: Gringo(?) Nite
Before heading out on my desert adventure, I hit up the phenomenon known as "Miercoles Po" with some friends. Essentially, it is a large gathering of international students at some club where we get in free and hang out. This week's was at a bar somewhere in Bellavista, the night life district of Santiago. Despite my reservations about hanging with an even more gigantic gringo pac than usual, it was a fun time. Especially since we ended up having to use Spanish as a lingua franca with international students from France, Germany and the Netherlands. So while it didn't help me actually hear better Spanish, I at least got to speak some.
Also, a random group of performers came out after an hour or two of techno to perform the cueca, Chile's traditional dance, which was rather unexpected. We also had an interesting discussion about the etymology of the word "gringo" (apparently for US/Canadians only?) with the cab driver on the way home as well as learning some Chilean slang. Good times...
Also, a random group of performers came out after an hour or two of techno to perform the cueca, Chile's traditional dance, which was rather unexpected. We also had an interesting discussion about the etymology of the word "gringo" (apparently for US/Canadians only?) with the cab driver on the way home as well as learning some Chilean slang. Good times...
6 Things I'm Still Not Used To About Chile, 1 Month In
I've gotten used to a lot. These, not so much.
1) Being helped off buses
- I would like this aspect of Chilean culture if it were equally applied as a gesture of goodwill. But apparently, since I am a woman, despite being young and perfectly able bodied, I cannot walk down stairs without aid. Right.
2) Lack of Steak Knives
Maybe this is difficult because I'm just starting to eat meat again, but this has been really problematic for me lately...
3)Public Displays of Affection (PDA)
Just when I was getting used to people being all lovey dovey, I had to sit across the aisle for an entire 6 HOURS of a couple full on making out while spooning in their bus seat. Ack.
4) Slang
I understand the basic slang now. But I can't actually bring myself to say "cachai" or "si, po" or "huevon" in real life. I think I would feel like even more of a poser for using local words when my actual spanish sounds something like "I have killed my camera. I wait to show to you pictures in morning."
5) Payment
Paying for things in Chile is incredibly inefficient. It does however employ a lot of extra people, which I assume is why it is practiced. In many small stores, you tell a person behind the counter what you want, they write a small script with the price, you walk to another counter, pay and come back to the original counter to pick up your merc. Oy. Ok, so not a huge inconvenience, but I always forget and then it's awkward.
1) Being helped off buses
- I would like this aspect of Chilean culture if it were equally applied as a gesture of goodwill. But apparently, since I am a woman, despite being young and perfectly able bodied, I cannot walk down stairs without aid. Right.
2) Lack of Steak Knives
Maybe this is difficult because I'm just starting to eat meat again, but this has been really problematic for me lately...
3)Public Displays of Affection (PDA)
Just when I was getting used to people being all lovey dovey, I had to sit across the aisle for an entire 6 HOURS of a couple full on making out while spooning in their bus seat. Ack.
4) Slang
I understand the basic slang now. But I can't actually bring myself to say "cachai" or "si, po" or "huevon" in real life. I think I would feel like even more of a poser for using local words when my actual spanish sounds something like "I have killed my camera. I wait to show to you pictures in morning."
5) Payment
Paying for things in Chile is incredibly inefficient. It does however employ a lot of extra people, which I assume is why it is practiced. In many small stores, you tell a person behind the counter what you want, they write a small script with the price, you walk to another counter, pay and come back to the original counter to pick up your merc. Oy. Ok, so not a huge inconvenience, but I always forget and then it's awkward.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
August 4: "Wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of the human spirit"
Actually, I'm pretty sure Edward Abbey() would heartily disapprove of this long weekend's vacation plans. I'm going to San Pedro de Atacama, which I've heard is somewhat touristy, to visit the Atacama Desert, which hopefully is still blooming thanks to excessive rainfall this winter and has a zillion other things to see. I've wanted to go to the desert for a long time, especially after reading "Desert Solitaire" last summer, so I figured a quote was appropriate, even if Abbey would hate the tourism industry that has built up around the last few beautiful places.
I'm intrigued by the thought of seeing something so vast. I love Santiago, but it has taken a toll on my senses, especially since I've been running all over the city by foot, bus and metro to check out classes and other doings.Furthermore, there's really no better time to escape the city's commercialism. "El Día del Ñiño" (Day of the Child) is tomorrow, a holiday that is the equivalent of an even more commercialized Mother's Day. Meaning that everything is abuzz with buying and selling. Since I've checked out all the classes I need to visit until next week, there's no better time for me to get away from the "hole" of Santiago (This is how the city was described to us by a famous professor who gave a lecture during orientation). After being here for nearly a month, with so many things to contemplate on, I feel that going to visit something that utterly dwarfs myself is in order.
I'm intrigued by the thought of seeing something so vast. I love Santiago, but it has taken a toll on my senses, especially since I've been running all over the city by foot, bus and metro to check out classes and other doings.Furthermore, there's really no better time to escape the city's commercialism. "El Día del Ñiño" (Day of the Child) is tomorrow, a holiday that is the equivalent of an even more commercialized Mother's Day. Meaning that everything is abuzz with buying and selling. Since I've checked out all the classes I need to visit until next week, there's no better time for me to get away from the "hole" of Santiago (This is how the city was described to us by a famous professor who gave a lecture during orientation). After being here for nearly a month, with so many things to contemplate on, I feel that going to visit something that utterly dwarfs myself is in order.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
August 3: She's Alone in the New Pollution...
Word(s) of the day:
el eje= axis, core, central theme
magenta= magenta
Today I was wandering around, feeling kind of lonely when I heard this old Beck song on the radio, which seemed also too perfectly matched to my day actually be happening...
I went back to the campus where the majority of the facultades are located for another round of trying on classes for size but today I spent a lot more time away from people from our Tufts in Chile group. The second day of classes wasn't any more organized than the first, not by a long stretch. Honestly, being at the University of Chile has been my biggest culture shock so far. The level of disorganization and lack of concern about it are definitely going to take some getting used to, as is the Chilean habit of arriving at least 5 minutes late to class. On a physical level, trying to not to stand out from Chilean students is pretty impossible, at least with my current wardrobe, which is far too preppy by comparison to the numerous slightly edgy sub- cultures. Everyone seems to constantly be in groups- either large groups of friends that they've known for years or with a pololo/a (significant other) at the very least. And politically, students are WAY more radical. At Tufts, tons of people have certainly constructed their identities around "saving the world," but for most of us that usually doesn't fundamentally mean abandoning the principles of free market economics. But a lot of the students here, at least the politically active ones responsible for painting murals during the "tomas", take overs of university buildings, have embraced more "revolutionary" symbols and ideologies- Allende, Che, communist sickles, etc. I'm really interested in the contrast between radical student politics and the rampant consumerism/individualism that seems to be becoming the norm in Chile, but I'll get to that in another post.
Trying to find classes today was quite the challenge. I couldn't find one that I really wanted to take, "Film, memory, gender and human rights" and it was frustrating because I had no way to know if it was even being offered or not. In the morning, I went to a history class on Contemporary Chilean History with one of Chile's premier social historians, Gabriel Salazar. Unfortunately, although it seemed extremely interesting, I don't think I'm going to end up taking his class. Part of the problem with choosing classes is that the only classes we end up being able to take are often filled with tons of other foreign students. Salazar was not pleased with this, understandably, because it wouldn't be fair for him to change his class to accommodate large numbers of us, likely disadvantaging Chilean students in the process. Not only do we lack years of training in Chilean history, but the style of teaching is different. It's kind of subtle and hard to explain, but the Chilean style of teaching history is far more focused on finding answers to "problems" of history, while the American method places more emphasis on general themes of history. While I might have sat through a class for nothing, at least it provided a bit of reflection on the nature of history, something that I personally take for granted far too often as a monolithic, objective narrative.
In other news, in a visit to the gigantic market at Estacion Central, I managed to buy 2 balls of yarn and knitting needles without knowing the words for magenta, ball of yarn or knitting needles. Gotta love pointing, it's pretty effective.
el eje= axis, core, central theme
magenta= magenta
Today I was wandering around, feeling kind of lonely when I heard this old Beck song on the radio, which seemed also too perfectly matched to my day actually be happening...
I went back to the campus where the majority of the facultades are located for another round of trying on classes for size but today I spent a lot more time away from people from our Tufts in Chile group. The second day of classes wasn't any more organized than the first, not by a long stretch. Honestly, being at the University of Chile has been my biggest culture shock so far. The level of disorganization and lack of concern about it are definitely going to take some getting used to, as is the Chilean habit of arriving at least 5 minutes late to class. On a physical level, trying to not to stand out from Chilean students is pretty impossible, at least with my current wardrobe, which is far too preppy by comparison to the numerous slightly edgy sub- cultures. Everyone seems to constantly be in groups- either large groups of friends that they've known for years or with a pololo/a (significant other) at the very least. And politically, students are WAY more radical. At Tufts, tons of people have certainly constructed their identities around "saving the world," but for most of us that usually doesn't fundamentally mean abandoning the principles of free market economics. But a lot of the students here, at least the politically active ones responsible for painting murals during the "tomas", take overs of university buildings, have embraced more "revolutionary" symbols and ideologies- Allende, Che, communist sickles, etc. I'm really interested in the contrast between radical student politics and the rampant consumerism/individualism that seems to be becoming the norm in Chile, but I'll get to that in another post.
Trying to find classes today was quite the challenge. I couldn't find one that I really wanted to take, "Film, memory, gender and human rights" and it was frustrating because I had no way to know if it was even being offered or not. In the morning, I went to a history class on Contemporary Chilean History with one of Chile's premier social historians, Gabriel Salazar. Unfortunately, although it seemed extremely interesting, I don't think I'm going to end up taking his class. Part of the problem with choosing classes is that the only classes we end up being able to take are often filled with tons of other foreign students. Salazar was not pleased with this, understandably, because it wouldn't be fair for him to change his class to accommodate large numbers of us, likely disadvantaging Chilean students in the process. Not only do we lack years of training in Chilean history, but the style of teaching is different. It's kind of subtle and hard to explain, but the Chilean style of teaching history is far more focused on finding answers to "problems" of history, while the American method places more emphasis on general themes of history. While I might have sat through a class for nothing, at least it provided a bit of reflection on the nature of history, something that I personally take for granted far too often as a monolithic, objective narrative.
In other news, in a visit to the gigantic market at Estacion Central, I managed to buy 2 balls of yarn and knitting needles without knowing the words for magenta, ball of yarn or knitting needles. Gotta love pointing, it's pretty effective.
Monday, August 2, 2010
August 2: Los Que Madruga, Dios Te Bendiga
Word(s) of the day
smallpox- viruela
cranberry-arándano
The title of this post roughly translates to "Those who get up early, God will bless." Today was the first day of classes for the majority of the facultades (schools) at the University of Chile and God blessed my early rising with a definitive sign that I should not take an 8:30am architecture class.
I left my house late, but managed by a miracle of public transportation to make it to Santiago Centro on time for "Urbanismo 1." I wasn't entirely sure what the class was about, other than that it was obviously about cities and sounded vaguely interesting. By another stroke of luck, I managed to find the class room for the course. I went in and a bunch of people were huddled around the back, so I assumed class hadn't started yet. I really needed to wash my hands since I had fallen up the stairs on the way out of the grungy metro so I ran quickly to find a bathroom. On my return, everyone was still gathered around the back. Then I realized, this WAS the class. It must have started the week before...I stayed for another minute before realizing that they had already created some sort of project, had obviously used software that I didn't have the faintest idea how to operate (nevermind in Spanish) and clearly all had some sort of background in city planning that I lacked. I decided it would be a good idea to leave as soon as physically possible. Luckily, not too many people saw me, I don't think. Secondarly, I feel like Chileans pretty much expect to the gringos to do stupid things like go into a class twice and then leave. Still think this might go on my top 10 most awkward moments.
So now, it was 8:30 in the morning and I had nothing to do. I decided to explore a bit- I went down Londres/Paris streets- beautiful old cobblestone areas with interesting architecture. Then, I climbed Cerro Santa Lucía again, the big hill park in the center of the city, where the Spanish first had a fort to keep an eye out for Indians. I was the 3rd person there, other than the extensive cleaning crew and it was gorgeous. So much green and flowers, textured stones and bricks, statues and rays of sunlight. Unfortunately, even though it rained yesterday, it was still so smoggy I could hardly see the mountains.
Around 12, I had my first real experience inside a Chilean university. I went to the Philosophy and Humanities campus for a history class about Chile's independence with Leonardo León, an awesome professor we had heard from during Orientation. I'm pretty sure the class wasn't entirely typical. At the very least, it was ridiculously informal. Half the students showed up late, talked to the professor like he was an equal and jokes were being made back and forth. Which meant that I understood about half of what went on during a 1.5 hour block...Once he started talking about the actually subject, I understood perfectly, but apart from this...Non content related parts of the class included stories about how he was one of the last people in Chile to have smallpox, something indecipherable about geishas and stories about Salvador Allende's lover. Content related parts made me seriously contemplate the meaning of history and the way we tend to always construct them from a top down institutional perspective, rather than from the perspective of those who actually live it. I'm seriously considering taking the class now- anyone who can make 17th and 18th histories of Latin American independence interesting and relevant while giving wise life advice probably is worth sticking around. But now I'm conflicted! There are far too many courses I want to take.
The afternoon was great fun. After class, I went to Bellavista, a "hip" area of town where most of the nightlife is concentrated, with fellow Tufts in Chile friend Molly and Ingrid, a Spanish house buddy from last year. Ingrid showed us all these great places to go and another delicious ice cream place, expanding my horizons beyond Emporio La Rosa. I got cranberry ice cream which was super interesting. Definitely worth another trip :) Then, she also introduced us to Sanhe-Nuss, a DELICIOUS chocolate with almonds. Thank god I climbed a hill in the morning.
I did a bit more exploring in the late afternoon, wandering around Universidad Cátolica, which has been described as the Harvard of Santiago- wicked expensive, beautiful but also prestigious. It was quite peaceful. I checked out the center of Ñuñoa, the communa where I live, for a bit and then walked home with the sun setting on the mountains, which were once again visible.
Today's take away image, however, was not the mountains, but a family I encountered on my walk home. A mother and her 2 children poorly dressed were rooting through the garbage of the wealthy residents of Ñuñoa, presumably for something to sell or eat. Even in the tranquility and relative luxury of upper class Santiago, the injustices of unequal distribution cannot be kept entirely invisible forever.
smallpox- viruela
cranberry-arándano
The title of this post roughly translates to "Those who get up early, God will bless." Today was the first day of classes for the majority of the facultades (schools) at the University of Chile and God blessed my early rising with a definitive sign that I should not take an 8:30am architecture class.
I left my house late, but managed by a miracle of public transportation to make it to Santiago Centro on time for "Urbanismo 1." I wasn't entirely sure what the class was about, other than that it was obviously about cities and sounded vaguely interesting. By another stroke of luck, I managed to find the class room for the course. I went in and a bunch of people were huddled around the back, so I assumed class hadn't started yet. I really needed to wash my hands since I had fallen up the stairs on the way out of the grungy metro so I ran quickly to find a bathroom. On my return, everyone was still gathered around the back. Then I realized, this WAS the class. It must have started the week before...I stayed for another minute before realizing that they had already created some sort of project, had obviously used software that I didn't have the faintest idea how to operate (nevermind in Spanish) and clearly all had some sort of background in city planning that I lacked. I decided it would be a good idea to leave as soon as physically possible. Luckily, not too many people saw me, I don't think. Secondarly, I feel like Chileans pretty much expect to the gringos to do stupid things like go into a class twice and then leave. Still think this might go on my top 10 most awkward moments.
So now, it was 8:30 in the morning and I had nothing to do. I decided to explore a bit- I went down Londres/Paris streets- beautiful old cobblestone areas with interesting architecture. Then, I climbed Cerro Santa Lucía again, the big hill park in the center of the city, where the Spanish first had a fort to keep an eye out for Indians. I was the 3rd person there, other than the extensive cleaning crew and it was gorgeous. So much green and flowers, textured stones and bricks, statues and rays of sunlight. Unfortunately, even though it rained yesterday, it was still so smoggy I could hardly see the mountains.
Around 12, I had my first real experience inside a Chilean university. I went to the Philosophy and Humanities campus for a history class about Chile's independence with Leonardo León, an awesome professor we had heard from during Orientation. I'm pretty sure the class wasn't entirely typical. At the very least, it was ridiculously informal. Half the students showed up late, talked to the professor like he was an equal and jokes were being made back and forth. Which meant that I understood about half of what went on during a 1.5 hour block...Once he started talking about the actually subject, I understood perfectly, but apart from this...Non content related parts of the class included stories about how he was one of the last people in Chile to have smallpox, something indecipherable about geishas and stories about Salvador Allende's lover. Content related parts made me seriously contemplate the meaning of history and the way we tend to always construct them from a top down institutional perspective, rather than from the perspective of those who actually live it. I'm seriously considering taking the class now- anyone who can make 17th and 18th histories of Latin American independence interesting and relevant while giving wise life advice probably is worth sticking around. But now I'm conflicted! There are far too many courses I want to take.
The afternoon was great fun. After class, I went to Bellavista, a "hip" area of town where most of the nightlife is concentrated, with fellow Tufts in Chile friend Molly and Ingrid, a Spanish house buddy from last year. Ingrid showed us all these great places to go and another delicious ice cream place, expanding my horizons beyond Emporio La Rosa. I got cranberry ice cream which was super interesting. Definitely worth another trip :) Then, she also introduced us to Sanhe-Nuss, a DELICIOUS chocolate with almonds. Thank god I climbed a hill in the morning.
I did a bit more exploring in the late afternoon, wandering around Universidad Cátolica, which has been described as the Harvard of Santiago- wicked expensive, beautiful but also prestigious. It was quite peaceful. I checked out the center of Ñuñoa, the communa where I live, for a bit and then walked home with the sun setting on the mountains, which were once again visible.
Today's take away image, however, was not the mountains, but a family I encountered on my walk home. A mother and her 2 children poorly dressed were rooting through the garbage of the wealthy residents of Ñuñoa, presumably for something to sell or eat. Even in the tranquility and relative luxury of upper class Santiago, the injustices of unequal distribution cannot be kept entirely invisible forever.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
August 1: Spanish is hard.
Guess oversharing is now my new form of procrastination. I'm supposed to be translating my resumé into Spanish, but its not going so well...Instead, I'm using wordreference.com to look up all the words I've written down in the last week or so which is sort of productive, just not what I should be doing. It's interesting, Spanish never really gets easier. The more I learn, the more things I realize I don't know or the more similar it all seems.
For example:
-cartelera=listing
-carretera=highway
-carrete= party (Chilean slang)
-carterear= to pickpocket
Despite being in a Spanish speaking country, it's hard to keep from sliding into inglés on occasion. For instance, so much of the TV is in English, although it has Spanish subtitles, which still means it's "educational." Yesterday, I watched "Titanic" with the fam and learned some words I had forgotten about such as "hundir"= to sink. And today I learned "somníferos"=sleeping pills, from watching some show with Julia Louis Dreyfuss in it.
Other things I've been doing to learn Spanish:
-Reading poetry- I only brought books in Spanish with me
-I've changed all electrical appliances to English (phone, computer) but a lot of websites still come up in English, and I have to remember to do searches in Spanish
-Playing a game with myself where for 10 minutes I'll look around and see if I can name every object around me
-Listening to music in Spanish, and limiting myself to 1 hour daily of music in English
-Looking at maps constantly
At least understanding Chileans has gotten easier, a bit. A few of us went to a small carrete last night in a friend's host brother's friend's apartment last night and I understand the majority of what they were saying. Once you realize that "cachai" & "po" are essentially just filler words, that a lot of people are just really mumbly when they talk, and that much of what Chileans say is meant jokingly things start being a bit clearer. Before I left, I read a bunch of places that Chileans have a reputation for being really austere people. I don't know where this reputation came from- maybe the people I've met are just exceptions, but everyone has been so funny, warm and friendly. Or just that the US is such a cold culture by comparison. But I'm inclined to think that cultural stereotypes are generally "basura."
For example:
-cartelera=listing
-carretera=highway
-carrete= party (Chilean slang)
-carterear= to pickpocket
Despite being in a Spanish speaking country, it's hard to keep from sliding into inglés on occasion. For instance, so much of the TV is in English, although it has Spanish subtitles, which still means it's "educational." Yesterday, I watched "Titanic" with the fam and learned some words I had forgotten about such as "hundir"= to sink. And today I learned "somníferos"=sleeping pills, from watching some show with Julia Louis Dreyfuss in it.
Other things I've been doing to learn Spanish:
-Reading poetry- I only brought books in Spanish with me
-I've changed all electrical appliances to English (phone, computer) but a lot of websites still come up in English, and I have to remember to do searches in Spanish
-Playing a game with myself where for 10 minutes I'll look around and see if I can name every object around me
-Listening to music in Spanish, and limiting myself to 1 hour daily of music in English
-Looking at maps constantly
At least understanding Chileans has gotten easier, a bit. A few of us went to a small carrete last night in a friend's host brother's friend's apartment last night and I understand the majority of what they were saying. Once you realize that "cachai" & "po" are essentially just filler words, that a lot of people are just really mumbly when they talk, and that much of what Chileans say is meant jokingly things start being a bit clearer. Before I left, I read a bunch of places that Chileans have a reputation for being really austere people. I don't know where this reputation came from- maybe the people I've met are just exceptions, but everyone has been so funny, warm and friendly. Or just that the US is such a cold culture by comparison. But I'm inclined to think that cultural stereotypes are generally "basura."
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