La Segunda Semana

I feel like I've been here for months, but en realidad it hasn't even been two weeks. The Chilean people are so welcoming, but are quick to spot a gringo. Until now, I thought gringo had a negative connotation, but in Chile, it is like being a celebrity. All of the restaurant owners want to welcome you, people stop and stare at you on the street, and when you "no habla español muy bien" with a foreign accent, they thinks it's adorable. It also helps being blonde, despite that it's not my real hair color. I don't remember what my real hair color is though, so I am going to take advantage of being a rubia. When people here see blonde hair and blue eyes, they start talking to you very slowly in spanish, but then quickly forget if you can answer one or two questions competently.




While in downtown Santiago, the blonde issue became more apparent. The first day that we were in town, Laurel, Kelly, and I (all blonde) ventured out to find a hole in the wall restaurant where we could eat lunch. Without much effort, we wandered into "Donde Zacharias," where we were instantly greeted by the waiters, the cook, and the manager.



They helped us with the menu and told us that we must try a "completo," (above) if we haven't yet. A completo, as we found out, is a hot dog covered in guacamole, tomatoes, lettuce, mayo, ketchup, and mustard. It is huge and impossible to eat. It even comes on this little plastic stand to keep it from falling apart, but regardless of its messy nature, it quickly became a staple in my diet.



On our walk back to the hostel, we had to pass a large group of adolescent boys. As we approached, we weren't sure what was going to happen, but we knew there would be whistles or some kind of vocal acknowledgment. What we didn't expect, however, was that the twenty boys would part completely down the center and would applaud and shout "I love you," as we walked through the group, continuing the applause until we rushed around the corner, embarrassed by the flattery.




That night we went out to a bar in Bella Vista with our new volunteer friends. There are 45 total volunteers, all in their twenty-somethings, so we caused quite a scene at the bars, taking flaming shots and dancing without rhythm. By the end of the week there had been three hospital visits, one resulting from an alcohol-induced seizure.... It was pretty sobering to see someone's body just collapse on them, but luckily Owen was okay and he is still able to participate in the program.



Even though there were cases of "excessive living" the first couple of days, as soon as orientation got under way, everyone settled down for the most part. Since the wine is so cheap here, about $2-4 for a handsome Carmenere (Chile's most famous wine), we drank wine at dinner each night and spent weeknights playing cards, ping pong, pool, and simply chatting.







Our orientation schedule was typically filled to the brim with repetitive courses on how to teach, what to teach, and more Chilean Spanish. Much of it was already covered the week before in CIEE orientation, so I spent a lot of time honing my doodling skills and writing post cards (check your mail in a couple weeks).



Every evening after class though, Cami, Laurel, and I would explore Santiago in our own vein: through shopping. We went to many department stores and artisan markets, where retail therapy and hand made jewelery relieved us from the long orientation sessions. We also visited a few museums, strolled through Parque Forestal (below), and walked to the top of Santa Lucia before sunset (above), so we could see the orange and amber hues embrace the city before nightfall.




Back at the hostel I either used my free time to Skype those of you who are computer savvy, or plan trips to take over our winter break with Laurel and Cami. We have two weeks off from teaching at the end of July, so Cami, Laurel and I at the very least, are planning on going to the beach and to the Atacama desert as well as to Buenos Aires, Argentina. I can't wait to travel, but in the meantime every day here brings something new and exciting.



The last day was kind of crazy. We explored the fish market and fruit/vegetable markets where the vendors were very friendly. Everyone whistled and said "Hello, I love you," and called us Barbies. Interesting experience, but it reminded me very much of the Mercato Central in Florence with its colorful fruit everywhere and bright green vegetables sprouting out of every stand.





After shopping at the market and trying a "cactus fruit" that was good despite its overabundance of seeds, we went to a famous restaurant called "La Piojera." There were live donkeys outside and a live band inside. Their specialty drink is called a "Terremoto," or "earthquake," (above) so you can imagine it was pretty strong. After one of these, we were a little too tipsy to find our way back to orientation and ended up almost an hour late. Luckily, others were late or had blown it off entirely, so there were no consequences. It's weird to feel like a student again, or at least accountable to anyone other than myself, but I guess that will be even more of a reality when I have a job. Ha! A job.



That night, EOD held an aseno (barbecue), where there was so much food and wine, no one knew what to do. At the aseno we danced for hours and then went out to discotech in Bella Vista where there was a live band in one room, karaoke in another, and overpriced drinks everywhere. Since it was our last night together before being sent all over Chile, we stayed out until four or so, only to wake up at eight and pack to move to our host regions. After spending a week in very close quarters with the volunteers, it was hard to say goodbye to them. But, since they are dispersed all over Chile, there is an added incentive to take weekend trips and visit their host regions. In the morning, myself and my fellow CIEE volunteers would leave for Rancagua, only an hour south of Santiago.

Álo Santiago

Last Monday I flew out from Philly and found Scott, another volunteer, during my layover in Dallas. Scott and I hit it off immediately. He is one of those people that is so nice it makes you suspicious, like there must be something wrong with him. But, as he has proved over and over again as I've gotten to know him these last two weeks, he has a heart of gold and is probably one of the last specimens of chivalry on the planet. Since the flight was relatively empty, we were able to spread out a bit and I managed to sleep a few hours until Scott nudged me, waking me in time to watch the sunrise over the Coastal Mountain Range of South America.




There was a sliver of sunshine sandwiched by heavy clouds. The clouds were thick and stretched forever in continuous rolling waves, interrupted intermittently by sharp, frozen mountain peaks. We must have descended through three minutes of clouds until the lights of Santiago were finally visible.



Elsa Maxwell, our CIEE coordinator, picked us up after extensive customs procedures and swine flu laden warnings. Everyone was wearing masks and we had to fill out a survey indicating whether or not we suffered from a cough or a fever. Worthless precautions. Elsa is from Minnesota, but her rapid Spanish speaks nothing of the Midwest. She seemed kind of tense the first few times we met, but we learned that she has a lot on her plate. She leads orientations every couple weeks, works full time, and is simultaneously working on her Master's thesis in Latin American Studies. Later, we would joke that she needed to drink two or three pisco sours (the national drink) before meeting us to relax her tiny frame. With Elsa were two of the other volunteers, Laurel and Kelly, who despite long flights were charming and in great spirits. I was instantly enamored with the girls and was thrilled to get settled in a little hotel apartment where we would get to know each other better.




Orientation basically revolved around lunches and dinners at some of the best restaurants in town. One, called Liguria, revolved slowly like the Space Needle, so that we could see all of Santiago. These meals were enormous, sometimes with three courses and always a dessert. When we weren't eating lomo all pobre (frenchfries, a cut of steak, and two eggs sunny side up), we endured classes on culture adaptation, how to survive the Chilean school system, lectures on how to live with a host family, and an intense Chilean Spanish course.



In our free time and often with Elsa as a guide, we we able to tour many parts of Santiago. Since we were such a small group, we were even able to hike up the heal of the Andes, a small mountain called Cerro San Cristóbal. At the very top of this mountain, there is a clear view of the Andes and a glowing white statue of the Virgen Mary that overlooks all of Santiago. Among the echo of chanting monks, many locals came to the Cerro San Cristobol for a romantic afternoon or to pray.



The first night of Orientation, we went out to an area of Barrio Providencia filled with bars, but they all had incredibly cheesy decor. We finally decided on "BedRock" which was basically la casa de Fred Flintstone. The Bedrock personnel were incredibly friendly, offering free pisco sours as soon as we sat down. Within a half hour, some locals coerced me into dancing, and I bashfully complied. As I feared, my local dance partner soon realized that I can't dance. Instead of a graceful, sexy partner, he had to break the salsa?/tango?/cuaca? steps down and count out loud so I wouldn't bruise his feet. Laurel and Kelly, however, proved to be very skilled dancers and John and Scott were not shy with the karaoke machine.



A few more nights out with basically the same plot line except that Cami finally arrived (my dancing didn't improve much though) and we were shipped out of our hotel. We were piled into a hostel that was in the center of the city, close to La Moneda and Barrio Bella Vista.



La Moneda (above) is the center of the city where the colonial government buildings still fully function and Bella Vista (below) is an artsy, bohemian area where Pablo Neruda built a secret getaway for himself and his mistress. We toured Neruda's house, which is filled with hidden passages and incredible artwork.



We would visit Bella Vista and its colorful mural-covered walls many times in the next week, but in the meantime, our clan grew from six to fifty after meeting the other volunteers in the "English Opens Doors," program (EOD).