Just an Update

I'm due for an update. I haven't forgotten about the blog, just been ignoring it in a way. Throughout the past two weeks i've been telling myself that there's nothing to report, though to think that two weeks can pass with nothing to report is to think that a day isn't filled with events. Gripping or dull, events can be reported.

Early on I called this the "vacation semester." That title isn't apt anymore, and can be replaced simply with "semester." I've had three tests in the past two weeks. None of them were easy. All of them were essays written in class...in Spanish, of course. There's a tremendous amount of reading to be done. Always. A part of me, the student, feels a responsibility to do all the work, and do it well. But another part of me, the traveler, feels as though he shouldn't be spending all his limited time in Chile in the library. You've got to find the equilibrium. The result, though, of any decision made--whether to study or to travel--is always cognitive dissonance, a conflict between thought and action.

Well I took the tests, and I studied plenty for them. But I've also done a bit of traveling. Went hiking for last Saturday just an hour outside of Santiago. It's incredible how much cleaner the air is just an hour away. We had thought of maybe finding a small mountain to climb. Where we went, however, there are no small mountains. You need professional equipment to climb, we of course we lacked. We crossed a mountain biker who took one look at my friend Sebastian's skateboarding shoes and assured us that if we attempted to climb, we would surely die. "People die all the time up there," he said. So we settled for some minor climbing, forging our own path to a set of rocks and took a seat. In Chile, the view from any height is almost always overwhelming. One set of mountains is only the beginning of what becomes another set of mountains, and then another, and so on. When you climb a little and look out, you realize why it took the Spanish so long to find Chile. You just don't meander over the Andes, especially not on horseback carrying the makings of a civilization.

Next weekend we're off to the Atacama desert, apparently the driest in the world. It's the second organized trip with my program. We're flying this time. It's way up North. They say it's the best place for star gazing. No moisture or light. Well, no artificial light, just the light of the stars. I'll be sure to give details when I return.

It's been quiet around the apartment lately. Betty's working alone now in her grocery store. Her daughter Nicole, her only other employee, decided to move on to something else. So Betty does it alone now, working dawn til dusk 6 days a week. She comes home around nine, makes me dinner, then heads straight to bed. We haven't had a real conversation in quite some time. I feel bad for her, and somewhat guilty, as she still insists on doing EVERYTHING:cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc. Me make my own dinner? I shouldn't dare ask! Look! I made my own bed! Nope, it's not perfect, and besides, she wants to change the sheets anyways, which she does every weekend. So I let her do her thing. She never seems tired, or certainly doesn't show it if she is. She's a machine, and we expect machines to perform and hope the technical difficulties aren't too costly.

That's all for now. I hope this finds all readers well and in good health.
Ciao

ROBBERY!

Witnessed my first robbery last night. At about 1 am I'm standing with a group of friends at a bus stop in the center of town, a real popular spot where you wouldn't expect theft. My friend Katie is leaning against a lamp post, her back faced towards the road. What happens next passes in no more than fifteen seconds. A kid, no more than 15, sneaks up behind Katie with his hood up; he grabs her purse from behind and takes off running across the street into the darkness; I take one step to chase him and realize that there are about 15 other guys standing both right in front of me and across the street; I freeze and watch; they don't touch anyone else, and disperse within ten seconds; it's all over.

These thieves never work alone. Even smaller crime like snatch-and-run is highly coordinated. Many forces at work. It occurred to me after that if I had chased the thief (or "fleighte"--one who flees--as they say here) I would have at least gotten my ass kicked by the guys hanging behind, and there's a better chance than not that I would have been stabbed. Best to just let it go.

Katie lost some money, her cell phone, Chilean ID card and university ID. Not bad. All easily replaceable. No credit cards or passport. More than anything it's a shock. I was definitely scared for a minute when ten angry men were staring me in eye. But Katie and I had a laugh later on when we imagined what her assaulter would do when it came time to split her 20 bucks 15 ways.

Lesson: 1.) Think for a minute that you won't get robbed and you will. 2.) You'll get robbed in the center of town with a police officer standing less than a block away. 3.) Don't chase. Better to lose an i-pod than an eye.

About 5 kids from my program have been robbed in two months.

Holy Week and Other Things

All's quiet in Santiago this weekend as the city's residents relax and observe "Semana Santa." Most businesses have been closed since Friday. My host mother closed her little grocery store along with others. The University suspended all classes and activities after 1:00 pm on Thursday.

All the bars and clubs were open last night so people could have a really good Friday. I went out last night in need of some fresh air, having been cramped inside the apartment all day doing work. At one club, I recognized an actor who I had seen in a play the night before. We started to talk. I said "The play was funny," to which he replied "It's not a comedy." The play, an experimental piece that retells the history of Chile through abstraction and metaphor, is filled with phony passion and melodrama that I totally thought was a joke. Oops. It wasn't a comedy, just really bad. So then I said "Oh, sorry, I don't speak Spanish that well." He wasn't too offended.

Not sure what to expect tomorrow, Easter. Host mom is a catholic, but not a practicing one. There are these little wooden Christ figures all over the house, yet she never talks about faith. I imagine we'll have a large dinner of some sort. I'll spend the day writing a boring paper about melodrama in early 19th century theatre, and probably won't reflect too much on Christ's resurrection. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to resurrect myself from this deathly online procrastination.

A few days in Pucon

Just got back from a long weekend in Pucon, a touristy spot about 10 hours south of Santiago. It was the first of two trips hosted by my exchange program. Twenty four of us went, including Patricio, the program director.

We got rained on most of the weekend, with only a few minutes of scattered sunshine. We couldn't climb the volcano--the most popular activity--but we had a great time nonetheless. We went rafting, as you see here in the picture. That was definitely the coolest thing. I had never been before, but now I could do it every day for the rest of my life. The picture above is one of many taken by a professional photographer throughout the day. We were separated into three groups, each one accompanied by a professional guide. We hit some huge rapids. One was so big we had to get out of the raft and let it float empty while we walked down to calmer waters.

Pucon is stuffed with volcanoes, most of them active but few of them about to blow. We couldn't climb any with the rough weather, but we did spend a few hours in hot springs. I don't really understand hot springs, but they're natural hot tubs at the base of a volcano which, I think, are heated by lava and magma flowing underground. Very relaxing...and very hot!

The other cool new thing I did was ziplining. We drove to a nearby forest to this sort of ziplining park. Once strapped in, we did about 12 different zips, from all different lengths and heights, ending back where we started. I zipped over rivers and rocks from over a hundred feet up--scary stuff, and not for those who don't like heights.

At night it poured. We had wild parties both Friday and Saturday night (we invited our ziplining tour guides to party with us on Saturday night and they ended up joining). We slept in these beautiful cabins with full kitchens, master baths and big beds--a luxury stay.

From what I've heard, the South is the loveliest part of Chile. You get the best weather in the summer, but it's also packed with tourists, and there aren't many places to stay. In the winter it just rains. If you manage to get a couple nice days, though, they say the landscape is even prettier, as everything is green and lush. I hope to explore the south more if I get some time. Pucon, ten hours to the south, is just the beginning. You could ride a bus for another 24 hours and still not even make it to Punto Arenas, which is the last hospitable region of Chile before all turns to ice.

Chileans celebrate Draw

Here's a little sample of how Chileans like to party when their soccer team doesn't lose.

Soccer Cops Again

Last night my friend Sebastian and I walked to Santiago's "bohemian" neighborhood, Bella Vista, to watch Chile play Uruguay in soccer. Chile was down a player 20 minutes into it, but Uruguay still couldn't score on them. It ended in a tie: 0-0.

We were bummed. We had come armed with our cameras this time with hopes to shoot some shots if they won. No more than five minutes had passed after the game, though, before we heard some comotion in the sreets outside. I thought maybe people were breaking stuff. But no. Pure celebration. A crowd of maybe 300 people was marching towards Santiago's center, chanting the national soccer anthem, smashing bottles in the street, jumping on the backs of cars.

We joined the cavalcade. Some drunk dudes from the bar we were at picked us up and demanded that we march with them. They were psyched to hang with the Gringos (the term Gringo, for anyone who doesn't know, is used by Chileans to describe anyone who isn't from Chile. In other countries the term describes a person from the United States. In Chile it's used more generally). People would come up to me and Sebastian asking to have their pictures taken with us, as if we were celebrities or something. The bottom line is that, despite all the Americans that pass through Chile, the majority of Chilenos don't see many in person. Their culture is littered with ours; our news invades their news; our music plays on their radio; our movies and television series air on their cable. The Chileans i've met--not including the friends i've made--will try and speak to me with what little Englsih they know: "whass up man?" or, as one man greeted me last night "What happen muth fucka?" (What's happenin.....) One woman kept trying to say "How do you do?" a greeting she had learned from a movie, but kept saying "How you do?" I hear some kids in my program talk about how the Chileans hate people from the US. I haven't found that to be the case at all. I've found them to be an incredibly curious bunch, always asking questions about how my stay has been, where I've visited, what I like most about the country, etc.

I took a lot of pictures of the celebration and a few videos, too. I think I can also post videos on this blog, so I'll try when I get home from class today. Stay posted!

Oh! Just found out that Holly is in to College of Charleston, her first choice for school. She's so fortunate. I'm sure everyone at home is just as radiant as I am here in Chile.