Reading over my journal entries, it was crazy to look back on how uncomfortable I was my first couple days living in el departamento en Av. Independencia with Cecilia, before I called her Mamá, and Magdalena when she was too shy to talk to me, let alone hang off of me like a monkey. Crístobal came to play soccer with me and my friends last week, and it was so nice talking to him on our way to the metro, seeing him play soccer and interact with the older guys, a big grin on his face. And nothing makes me happier than when I take Magda to el jardin (kindergarten) before my class. A few days ago, we stopped at a stand along the way to buy her a snack for the afternoon, and I let her buy her own banana. She paid for it and everything and was so proud of herself, and I was too! The men selling the fruit couldn't help, but smile, and I felt like our happiness was contagious as we skipped down the street–we are quiet the spectacle, a five year old in a princess dress, a giant pink flower in her hair, dragging along her gringa sister, with surprising force, through the crowd.
It is hard adequately expressing my gratitude to all of the people who have accepted me into their lives with open arms...I feel like I can't tell them enough how blessed I feel. Another thing that is difficult is that I feel like the dumb gringa more often than not. Sadly, I have to report that while I did forget my sleeping bag, one of my favorite shirts, and sunglasses, I did manage to bring my clumsiness with me to Chile. So far, I have stained a rug, bleached a towel, and, as of yesterday, broken a window in my house. When I went to open the window, it stuck, but the force of the push was enough to catapult the entire sheet of glass (the glue must have deteriorated) down three stories. Now, while I didn't do anything out of the ordinary, and it was probably going to happen to the next person to open it, it happened to me and, needless to say, I was mortified. I called my host mom to let her know what happened, and she couldn't have been more gracious. She told me to stop freaking out and to have fun and she would deal with it when she got home. Like I said, I am unbelievably blessed to have a life filled with some many kind-hearted people.
The sterotypes of chileans being cold or closed has not been validated in the slightest by my experience and, while I was happy to find these rumors didn't hold true, one stereotype about Chile that unfortunately hasn't proven true for me is that boyfriends are easy to come by...well at least one that I want. Their is a dating culture here that is somewhat suffocating, you can't walk down the street without seeing a couple about every two steps. The first question people ask me is if I have a boyfriend back home. The second is if I have a chilean boyfriend. The third, "why not?" I was asked out on a date by my friends brother during a birthday party. He said we were going to have mariscos (seafood) for lunch the next day...and never called me. He facebook messaged me to ask how I was and I told him "bien, pero triste y con hambre porque tu no me llamaste" ("Fine, but sad and hungry because you never called me"). Turns out his phone had died and he didn't have my number. He promised a raincheck when he is back in town...so i guess we will see, haha.
In other news, I am delighted to find myself in peak artichoke season, with an aunt that has a farm! As I write my mom is preparing a batch for lunch. We eat them with lemon and oil, which isn't the same as dipping them in melted butter, but I am thrilled nonetheless.
My day usually consists of waking up at around 8, eating breakfast with Magda and Mamá (Crís is already off to school), and then showering before heading off to classes. Mondays, I work at the homeless shelter during la cena (dinner), Wednesdays I go to a yoga class at my university, and Thursday is soccer night with the boys.
I have am so lucky to have a wonderful group of friends to play sports with, go dancing, or gather around the table to joke, argue, and sing over an "once" of pan con palta and tecitos.
There is always palta (avocado) in the house (the boys are starting a palta company). We spent a day putting together boxes to distribute to potential buyers. There is always music playing and hot water for mate or tea and always at least seven people in the living room.
We are quite the crew; a mixture of Chileans and gringos, of men and women, and they would tell you old and young (however, I am not convinced that twenty-five qualifies as old).
We spend our weekends at the botanical gardens, the beach, or the countryside. We all have nicknames (gringa names like Kacey are hard to pronounce). For a while I was llave...as in "key" as in Kay... but they have settled on Pulgita, after Messi the soccer player (the literal translation is "flea"...). Clothes are communal; we often look like a flock of vagabonds in sweatshirts, coats, ponchos, and scarves of all different colors and sizes. Everything in that house is shared. Plates, glasses, food, clothes....toothbrushes, todo.
I have learned so much about Chilean music, food, culture, history, dance, and family. I feel at home in "La Casa de Colores" in Recreo (Cameron's house)...how lucky am I to have two homes away from home in Chile! I help with meals, do dishes, spend time with Cote, dance the cueca in the living room, content to be a part of our crazy community.
Speaking of community, I am going to have the honor of staying with a Mapuche (the most prominent indigenous group in Chile) family later this month during our trip South to Pucón with the program. I hope that during my lifetime I am able to share my life with others, in the way that the people here have done for me.
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