Sorry not to have written

Sorry not to have written. I’m afraid my personal life has taken over my travel and adventures a little bit. But things have been good. I’ve been learning a lot about this small little town I live in. I’ve been learning about this country, and this place in general. I have recently realized that you only get to see a small amount at first. You only get to see what people let you see, what this place lets you see. Recently, I have caught more significant glimpses. The old, weathered and paint-peeling fences are occasionally left open, and I can peek in past them. I can see what lays inside the crumbling, graffiti covered walls. I can see the green courtyards, with brick pathways, and statues, and flowers, and laughter.

When I first came to Chile, I was told I would have culture shock. I was told that I might have a breakdown caused by the frustrating cultural differences. This has not come. In fact, I have experienced the opposite. The new discoveries don’t seem to stop coming – each one opening up my imagination and expectations more. The people I have met have played a huge part in this. I don’t think I could be more fortunate in the connections I have made. They are the ones, after all, who open the doors and guide me in these new experiences. I am saddened that I have very little to share with them in return. All my favorites, my secrets are back in the states – In New Mexico, Oregon, California, and even Colorado. I will show these to my friends, someday. But right now I'm going to talk about what they have shown me.

I will recap just a few:

Viña del Mar and Valparaiso: I went with my friends Luca and Noora, who found a great little hostel to rent with several of Noora’s university mates. We wen’t out at night to a very typical little bar in Valparaiso: two stories with the upper floor looking over the lower, led up to by old wood banisters. There were the wood barstools, and a loud and rowdy crowd filling them. In the day we left out to the beach in Viña. We laid towels out on the beach and took in the sun. We kicked a soccer ball around with some guys on the beach, then later, meandered to a local grocery store to buy food for a picnic. Later, I rode the bus back to Rancagua. I could feel my skin stinging. My first sunburn meant it was summer.

Santiago: This is unfair, to write Santiago into a paragraph, since I have had so many nice times visiting friends there. Each time is something new, although, I always return to familiar places. I’ll sum up Santiago by saying this: it is the center of my new adventures, where my friends stay, and where my heart is, for the time being.

Rancagua and the surrounding area: Beyond the doors that hold the secret courtyards there is a mountain range. In the foot of this mountain range are the homes of some of my best friends. I have been fortunate to go to their houses, to receive their hospitality, to feel part of a home again, while so far from my own. Nacho’s birthday, lunch at Joaquin’s, a barbecue with Antonia’s family – these have been some of my favorite experiences.

Pichilemu: Pichilemu was fantastic. Perhaps it was too wild. I can’t say I wasn’t given fair warning, because I was. But perhaps my friends Joaquin and Alejandro, who I went with, felt the need to make it an extra crazy visit, just to live up to the lore of the land. In the end, it was a completely unique visit -  walking the streets of Pichilemu during the day, trying to squeeze into any restaurant possible to catch the Super Clasico, going out to the club at 3 in the morning and later watching the sun rise from the beach, basking in the sun all day and then doing it over again. It was all part of an experience so full that it was almost draining and that left us speechless for the car ride home. You leave this type of trip recalling all your favorite things that happened, and all the memories you made – the type of memories that you hope you can hold on to, even when others begin to fade.

So that’s it for the travels. Thank you to everyone I have met who has opened up a new door to me. Thank you for showing me this place – your favorites, your secrets. It is amazing that you can travel all the way around the world and meet people you feel are your brothers and sisters. To all my new friends, to all my old friends, to my family:

I love you.

Introspective

 It is good to feel solitude sometimes. After one’s crazy plans and adventures fade into memory. Unforeseen incidents, and delights. I have been having fun here in Chile – really learning a lot. About Spanish, about English, about this new place about people, about myself. My friend recently described to me that because I am a foreigner, I have the best of luck in some things, and the worst of luck in others. He was jokingly jealous that girls come up to me in Café’s here, offering their phone numbers. On the other hand, he said that he felt no jealousy that people try to rob me, men are often cold and not accepting of my presence, and that it is still somewhat difficult for me to communicate, generally speaking. But, who I am as a person probably makes me more susceptible to extreme forms of luck in any place. Outgoing, overeager, friendly, excitable. Throughout my life, I have had some of the best of experiences imaginable, and the worst. I’m settling into my self as a person, but now also settling into this life as a foreigner.

Solitude is good. It helps you know yourself. Also, having fewer material possessions is good. It, too, helps you know yourself. Solitude and creativity go together. I have two pairs of shoes. One pair, I wear to work, the other I wear to walk around the town. I’m getting to know myself in a new way, walking these streets. Today I sat, waiting for my favorite coffee shop to open, watching the people passing by. There were old men playing chess at the nearby park benches. There were people of all ages passing by – beautiful women coming out to greet the new sunny weather. Many of the women were pushing strollers or holding the hands of small children who tottled behind. There were jugglers in the street and clowns making balloon animals for the children. I wondered, how I could become each one of these people. What would my life have been like, if someday I end up one of these little old men playing chess in the plaza? When I stand up from my seat, what is the very next thing I need to do to become this clown? Will one of these strollers passing by contain my child someday? I don’t suppose any of these lives would be bad. Even the life of the clown. At least, he is always smiling. I guess I should develop higher expectations from my future. Sometimes, it’s just too much fun seeing where the winding path goes all on its own.

Events:

Things have been great here in my little life. Frequent visits to Santiago to see friends. This past weekend I went up to eat dinner with a friend. We had just sat down to order, when suddenly the lights went out. We suspected they would come back on shortly, but after a few phone calls to friends, discovered it was a major, nation-wide blackout. So, an impromptu candle light dinner began at this nice Peruvian restaurant. The waiter brought us two candles. One, he placed next to my friend. The other, he placed next to me. The only problem was that we kept laughing. Each time I laughed, I’d blow my candle out. This, of course, immediately made her laugh and blow her candle out. This persisted, back and fourth, till the waiter came around and made a wager out of it. He said the next person who blew his or her candle out had to pick up the bill. She blew her candle out first, but I still paid the bill. It wasn’t her fault. I’m really funny!

This upcoming weekend I look forward to going with a bunch of friends to Valparaiso. Maybe, if I am feeling particularly brave, I’ll try to surf. If not, I’ll just enjoy the beach, and try to see some historic sites. Also, my good friend is coming down from Santiago to Rancagua tomorrow, and I look forward to hanging out with him. It is funny that you can travel all over the world, and still meet people like this, who you feel belong to your past – kindred spirits or even birds of a feather. It just goes to show, that people are people are people. I’m still trying to decide what kind of person I want to be. I want to be a good one. That, I know. I want to have more nights laughing and blowing out the candles. 

My Life in Chile – An Update, an Observation

Things here are different. I said it before. I’m going to say it again. Things here are much different - the people, the customs, the food, the streets, everything. The climate is different from home, first of all. It’s more like Oregon. Pretty damn cold in the winter, rainy, and sometimes, well, a bit miserable. Everyone says it’s going to get pretty hot in the summer. I believe them. The apartment building I live in is pretty well heated. Lately, I’ve been taking a chair and my guitar out to the balcony and playing some songs in the sun, when it comes out.

I haven’t spent much time here lately, in Rancagua that is.  I’ve been spending the weekends bouncing around friends’ houses in Santiago mostly, and one night at a huge casino half way in between the two places. I’m not even sure how people can afford to get into the casino. It costs 40 dollars US just to get in the door. After that, drinks are the same old price, which is pretty damn expensive in comparison with the price of living. Luckily, I have made a few friends who have put me on the guest list for both times I have been.  A nice thing here is that travel is cheap; three dollars US to travel by bus from Rancagua to Santiago. So, I can pretty much travel to see friends in Santiago or Viña del Mar any time. And Viña is basically part of Valparaiso. So, I have a lot of travel options. This is a major bonus for when summer comes. Surfing, here I come.

But life here in Rancagua has been great. This town is vibrant, alive. I love it. When you walk down the path towards the plaza, there are people everywhere. Street venders selling all sorts of goods: fruits, vegetables, meats, empenadas. Everything. There are break dancers, street performers doing live theater, clowns, jugglers, drummers, musicians of all sorts. Down the brick-paved main street  there are places where the street opens up, and the lined bricks turn into squares. In each square there are different performers, constantly changing each day and week. In the main plaza, there is a large statue of a man on horseback. If you ever google “Rancagua, Chile,” this is undoubtedly one of the first images you will see. The plaza is surrounded by state buildings, and a large Catholic cathedral. There are benches everywhere, filled with people talking, reading, teenagers kissing, and dogs flopped over in the planters basking in the sun. Last, there are people walking around the plaza in front of the church, and sometimes around the side streets holding bibles, belting out verses that I cannot understand - but from the tone, I would guess it's all pretty hellfire and brimstone. I also, once heard a man say in spanish, "Your souls are dead, sinners. Your souls are dead." On the side wall of the cathedral, the wall is covered with graffiti.  My favorite inscription is, "Catholic church: pedophile yes, abortion no." I took a picture for posterity.

On the weekends, they rent out these little foot powered go-carts to the kids, who ride them around the plaza. It’s pretty cute to see. For that matter, kids here just seem to be generally cuter than kids in the states. Perhaps it is because they are all bundled up for winter, with their noses and cheeks blushing red. But the children here are cuter than most – huge cheeks, button noses, gigantic dark eyes. The one thing that bothers me, occasionally, is that most parents don’t seem to pay much heed to the idea that it is not great to smoke around your kid. I guess that’s how things are in the states too, though.

For that matter, it is very hard not to smoke here. Everyone does it, in restaurants, bars, coffee shops, ect. It is like a scene out of 1980’s America. But it’s not just the smoking. Chileans love 80’s music and basically anything 80’s. The clubs here are very 80’s as well, with huge dance floors. And, unlike in the states, people are actually dancing on them! It is maybe more like a gay club from the states. Girls want to dance, and if you are gentlemanly, they will probably want to dance with you. Women here, however, are a tricky to figure out. My main piece of advice is this: don’t say anything even the slightest bit rude to a Chilean woman, even if it is a joke. They like being complemented, and having a fun time, but if you insult them, you will not get a second chance. However, people here are extremely nice, and hospitable to a fault. To me it is so interesting to see how people are so different outside of the US. When I was talking to my students about a rather bad time I had with a Chilean, they seemed so personally offended - not by me, but that this person would represent Chileans so poorly. I also told them about being taken advantage of in Taxi's. Several of my students repeated over and over, "This is very untypical, we're sorry!" I could see the shame on their faces. It was honestly so endearing, and I reassured them that I knew; Chileans are, in fact, the some of the most hospitable people in the world.  

There are some things that do take me by shock in this country. Nothing horrible, but just different. People wait in lines for HOURS here. The banks close at two, which compresses the bank traffic into a much smaller window. The line wraps around the whole bank floor, and sometimes stretches out the door. There are just several instance where you wait for an eternity, for something that seems very simple, like cashing a check, or paying a bill. On the other hand, Chileans are frequently late, so they are very forgiving about lateness (in the 5-10 minute range). This, somehow, extends to paying bills! I went to pay my electricity bill today, and it was a few days late. No charge, no worries, according to the woman at the bill-pay station. Also, I paid my landlord about 6 or 7 days late for my rent. I did tell him, that I needed his bank account again, so I would be a day late. He got back to me a few days later, and basically told me to pay the rent whenever. Crazy!

On another subject, clothing from the states is very popular here. For instance, throwback t-shirts from the 80s, 90s, or basically anything with English written on it. This leads to some hilarious situations, since Chileans rarely know what the writing on these shirts really means. For instance, a few days ago, I went climbing at a rock gym with my friends Luca, Nora, and their roommate. There was a guy at the gym with a shirt that said: 2003 National Coming Out Day, San Francisco, California. Then it said: my name is ________ and I'm coming out. There was no name written in the blank. I can almost guarantee he saw the word California and bought the shirt. Also, the other day, I saw a guy wearing a D.A.R.E shirt! I laughed so hard when I saw it. I asked him if he knew what it mean. He, of course, said no. I told him it was a classic!

On a high note, I went to the birthday party of a friend of my friend's last night. Then we went to the casino again. The party was great. I met a very nice girl, and seem to have developed a little crush. The only problem was that I was doing such a poor job of speaking spanish to her, because I was a bit nervous. It would be nice to meet someone I'm interested in. It has been such a long time. It's doubtful, but I'll let you know if anything there pans out.

Thats all for now,

Sam

The first scary experience

First of all, I have to preface this post by saying, what happened wasn't even that bad. As a matter of fact, much scarier, sketchier things happen to me on a regular basis in Albuquerque. The thing is, I know how to deal with them better in Albuquerque.

So here's what happened. I'm sitting in the coffee shop, where I am now. Checking emails and writing my lesson plans for the day. The coffee shop is about a quarter full, and so there are empty tables scattered around the room. Two guys come in. I didn't really see them, or pay them much mind. But at first they were sitting across the room from me. After taking notice of my computer, they moved to the table diagonally behind from me. I could over hear them talking under their breath, I could vaguely overhear them planning something. One of them came up and started to talk to me. What struck me as strange, was how he moved to the opposite side of me from where he was sitting - trying to distract my attention away from where his friend was sitting. It is very strange to get one of these feelings in a foreign place - the type of feeling where you know something is wrong, but you can't quite put your finger on it.

Noticing this gentleman's suspicious appearance and mannerisms, I kind of had some understanding of what was going on. They were about my age and they were dressed in clothing that looked to expensive for their bodies. How can I explain this.... Ok, so they had tattoos on their hands and one guy had them on his neck. Their hair cuts looked prison regulation. On a side note, hairdressers in Chile are particularly bad. I will perhaps dedicate an entire blog to this topic in the future. But back to the topic at hand. So both of these guys had on pristinely white sneakers. This struck my as out of the ordinary as well. People in Chile generally do not pay much attention to the cleanliness or quality of their shoes. Especially the younger people. who's shoes generally look like they would be found on a homeless person. It is not because these people are poor, shoes just aren't a priority. This, the fact that they were both wearing such clean shoes, struck me as odd above all else. I cannot explain why.

But the guy began to talk to me. over my shoulder I noticed the other guy starting to move. My hand casually found my steak knife. I gripped it in a rather aggressive way - the tightness of my hand making my knuckles white. I said in Spanish, " I know what you are trying to do. Don't talk to me."The guy made a defensive gesture, and returned to his seat. They began to whisper again. Not wanting to sit with my back to the two, I moved to the corner behind them. My back to the wall, the two in plain sight, I felt much safer.

Almost immediately after I moved, a waitress came up to me and whispered, "Cuidate." In English, this meant 'be careful.' She continued to explain. These guys are "Flaites," a Chilean term which means, for lack of a better word, 'Ghetto.' But it also holds the connotation of being very sketchy as well. She said that they were talking about stealing my computer. I told her that I knew what they were saying, which is the reason that I moved. She gave me the thumbs up, and a squeeze on the shoulder - Chilean women are very motherly. She repeated, "Cuidate."

Almost a minute after that happened, another waiter, who I sometimes talk about soccer with, came up to me. He told me basically the same thing. He also asked if I wanted him to walk me home. I told him it would be OK. The Flaite looked over his friends shoulder at me, only to find that I was staring directly at him. He said something to his friend and then they left. I waited around for about ten minutes before leaving, also.

When I got out on the street, I was cautious. In fact, I looked both ways out the glass window even before leaving. I walked down the street, checking over my shoulder. I caught a glimpse of one of the guys over my shoulder. He was walking behind me, pretending not to be looking at me. I walked a little further, then looped around the block to make sure he was following me. Yep, he was. So, I stopped in my tracks, and turned around. I looked strait at him, and began to walk towards him very aggressively. I did not have a clue what I would do when I got to him. It was a purely primal act - one monkey puffing out his chest and making crazy eye contact with the other. In my pocket, I fumbled the cap off of my pen and pressed my thumb down on the ball point pen to test its sharpness. Yep, pretty sharp. If worse comes to worst, I thought, I'll stab him in the jugular.

Instead the guy turned and ran away in the other direction. Phhwewww. Situation averted. Later, I told this story to my students. They said that this was a typical situation. However, they were very clear that these people do not want to create a public conflict. They only want to wait till you take your eyes off of your backpack, and snatch it. I guess, all in all, it wasn't that scary. It was just a couple guys thinking they might snatch a free computer at the detriment of a inattentive tourist. The scary thing was that, if the situation were dangerous, I would not know what to do. At home, all I would have to do is call one phone number and say I was in trouble, and a Cavalry of friends would show up to help me out. Here, I don't have a Cavalry. Hell, I don't even know the number for the police. I should probably look that up.

The good thing is, I haven't had a single conflict here. I think my limited language skills also really limit my potential to be an asshole. I mean, I wouldn't even know how to say something rude to someone if I wanted to. Also, people are more relaxed culturally You can be at a bar, and a guy will bump you with his shoulder and spill your beer on your shoes. In the U.S, them's reasons for a fight. Here, it doesn't even merit an apology. Probably because people don't care about their shoes.

Salud,

Sam

First week on the Job + New Apt

So, my first week on the job is over. Today, which is a Monday, I had off work because of a holiday weekend. The extra time was great, and I used it to look for furniture for my apartment, which was a great success. But I will tell you about that a little later. First I want to mention how my first week of teaching English went.

So, I am teaching the highest level of English classes that the university offers. This is quite an ask – the students are very demanding, and the material we are using is not really up to their level. So, there is a good deal of bridging to do, working around the subject matter from the book and preparing activities for the students.  So far, I think I have been doing a pretty good job. I’ve been sticking to the same content area as the book. Then, I’ve been using my grammar book to write a more thorough lesson about that subject. Class has pretty much been one half theory, the other half pure practice. I think things are going well. Actually, there was one day, which really sucked, when I tried to teach straight out of the book. But since then, class has been killer.

Have I mentioned that my students are super smart? Well they are, and unfortunately they are at a very high level of speaking (the only reason I say unfortunately is that it means improvement is harder to observe. And my bonus depends on improvement). They have huge vocabularies – the only problem is that they sometimes mix up the order of words, and need some help on sentence structure. Also, I’m teaching to college age students and to middle aged professionals. They are extremely serious students, and have huge expectations. They are going to keep me on my game.

So, now for the apartment. First of all, our rent is super cheap. It’s probably around half of what most of the people I know are paying. Awesome. Second of all, my roommate and I furnished the place for about 400 dollars a piece.  That includes beds, sheets, comforters, kitchen table, 4 chairs, a large refrigerator, light fixtures, lamps, a stereo system, dishes, cutlery, a toaster, a teakettle, bathroom supplies, cleaning supplies, and more. Seriously? Unbelievable. We shopped smart but didn’t have to skimp out. I think after this initial investment, we are going to save a lot of money over renting a furnished apartment. Best of all, our landlord said he wants to buy our furniture from us when we leave!

On another note, I have never furnished anything from scratch. All throughout college, I have moved furniture from one place to another, lived in dorms, or used the old furniture of friends or previous renters. It was actually really fun to furnish the place completely from scratch. We got to talk color schemes, layout, and logistics. Logistics? Yep there were plenty of things to talk about. First of all, we decided we don’t need to buy extra chairs for the balcony. When the weather gets better we’ll just drag our chairs out to the balcony to barbecue. Then there are other questions: What happens when one of us has “company” over? Where will our friends sleep when they come visit? Who is going to cook dinner? Ect. Ect. Anyway, the whole thing is pretty exciting. Last, I couldn’t have a better roommate. Even though the two of us were completely sick, we ran all around town all weekend comparing prices and finding epic deals to make our apartment… well basically, the shit.

Last, we live smack in the center of town. This is close to my work, but far from Regina’s. So, we are probably gonna go halfers on a bike that she can ride. I figure, when the weather gets warm, it will be nice to have a bike to ride around anyway. Maybe we can get pegs on the back, and I can haul her around grade school style. Also, if I hit my bonus (and I know this will never happen), I want to get one of these:

http://www.moto-scoot.net/sachs_madass_125.php

This bad boy is awesome. First of all its called a MadAss, which is exactly what I’ll be getting if I am riding around town on this bad boy. Second of all, they are sooo cheap: 1200 US. Yet, apparently, they are really well built. My Chilean friend says that if I actually did buy one (this will not actually happen), he would buy it off me when I leave. I can’t imagine it is really very fast, but if there were some cool roads from here to Valpariso, that would make for a beautiful drive. The real problem though, is that I would definitely want to join up with a scooter gang. But, I really don’t know what the protocol for that is around here. I’m just going to assume right off the bat that there is a pretty hardcore initiation if you want to be in a Chilean scooter gang. Besides my first “pleasure buy,” if you will, has to be a guitar.

Anyway, that’s about it for life here in Chile. Pictures of the apartment due Wednesday, when the last of our furniture gets delivered!

Missing everyone back home.

Sam

It Begins

 The vacation is over. The last few weeks have been fun - filled with new places, people, and adventures. I’ve explored Santiago and Rancagua, been to clubs, restaurants, and tourists attractions. But yesterday I began my first day of work – my first day settling in to this new life. Today I will sign the lease to my apartment, and I am so excited. I can’t wait to be in a place of my own. I can make my apartment look nice, I can buy groceries, and I can start to create a reasonable budget for the future year. I’ll find out exactly what I need to make my life work here. Let’s face it, the lifestyle I’ve been living so far has been a little unsustainable. Not that I have not been frugal (the most expensive thing I have bought since living here was the 80 dollar cab ride from the airport, when a dishonest cab driver took advantage of my first-day naivety in respects to Chilean currency). But honestly, I have been eating out all the time, for lack of having a kitchen I feel comfortable in. Besides that, taking a cab to get from place to place (which is still very cheap by American standards) has not been the most efficient way to get around. Now, I feel like a master of public transport, and have been bopping around the city in Migras (half-sized busses) and collectivos (little taxis that charge less than a dollar to take you from one general area to another). 

Settling in has other advantages as well. My new apartment is very close to the local market, where local growers bring their produce to sell at unbelievable prices. I look forward to going there on weekdays for groceries, rather than frequenting the giant Walmart-esc Jumbo store I have been using. I can also use the local butchers for meat. All in all, I’m looking forward to settling into a life that is more typical of this area. Oh, and going out less will help too. Beer in bars here is equally expensive to beer in the US. So, I look forward to saving money by sipping a few glasses of wine in the comfort of my own home. But none of this, so far, is probably what you want to hear about.

Yesterday was my first day teaching at my college. Honestly, it was awesome. I was way more prepared than most of the other teachers who I were also teaching English classes, as I discovered in our pre-class meeting. I was also, surprisingly, the only native English speaker. Some of the other teachers English was surprisingly… well, let’s say ‘similar to my Spanish.’ I think they all know something about the English language, but they speak slowly and with a heavy accent that I suppose could be expected. They all, however, were very nice - especially one gentleman who has been a translator for 19 years and was a very jovial character (did I mention that Chileans love to joke around).

So, here I am, on my first day of class. Things begin by bringing everyone from all the classes into a giant auditorium. Our academic coordinator brought all the teachers to the front of the room and introduced us, or rather, we introduced ourselves. I said, “Hello my name is Sam Hodder. I’m from Albuquerque, New Mexico. I’m obviously a native English speaker, so I’ll be working with the high-level students. I’m used to working with younger children, but I’m excited for the opportunity to teach adults.” The guy who came next said, “I…am…. obviously… not….a….. native…. English….speaker…” Everyone laughed.

When we got in the classroom nothing seemed to work right for me. Being the first day, I had no idea what I would be supplied with, although I was promised a computer and speakers in my classroom. I got in the class, and none of the aforementioned items were anywhere to be seen. Luckily, my student handed me a laptop, with which I was able to connect to the projector. Within 10 minutes of the desired start time, everything was back on track. It was also lucky I brought plentiful amounts of pens and dry erase markers, because those were MIA also.

The lesson went really well. Students were cold and seemed scared at first, but as class wore on, they really opened up (right in time for our oral practice and mixer). Tensions also seemed to ease the more I made a fool of myself in front of the class. When I tried to blow in my tea, to cool it down, my glasses completely fogged over. I looked around the room sheepishly and everyone laughed. I made bunches of jokes and silly hypotheticals while describing the perfect progressive tense, which also seemed to lighten the mood. Students were all participating, and while some needed more prodding than others (I did not literally poke any students), things went very well. The hard thing is to determine who is shaky in his or her English skills, and who might just be more shy. This will take some time to figure out. Many other students said the class could be a bit more challenging. All in all, students left in good spirits, and I think they are looking forward to the class. 

I’m now going to begin lesson planning for tomorrow. Today will be challenging - students look out. If anything eventful happens, I’ll be sure to let you know.

Two weeks pass

I told Regina I would name my next blog "I love Regina" or something to that extent. Who is Regina? She is my newfound bestie, and without her, I would not have survived this experience so far. I mean that both figuratively and literally. First of all, it is amazing to have someone to relate to in this new place. We share a similar sense of humor and we are always laughing - besides Chile supplies us with all the comedic inspiration necessary for a regular dose of hysterical laughter. Second of all, she is my wing woman. And I guess that makes me her wingman, not that she would ever need it here. When she unleashes her blonde hair, the Chilean men "swoop like a hawk" as a Chilean friend of mine observed. Together, we divide and conquer like the Spanish once did. Poor taste with the conquistador reference? Maybe. Third, and most important, we sleep together every night. That is not as exciting as it sounds. Is anything sexual going on? No - I wish. The real motivation you ask? It is so fucking cold at night I think one of my toes is going to fall off from frostbite. See my previous post on Chilean heating. The cold is actually quite tolerable with someone else heating the bed. Also, her room is quite a bit hotter than mine to begin with.

A funny story from earlier this week comes to mind. My host was talking with me, and the told me to shut a door in the middle of the house. I asked if he wanted to keep the dog out. He explained, "I like to keep this door shut so that the heat stays in that part of the house." My room, however, was in the other part - the part shut off from the heat. I laughed, but he did not see the irony. I don't mean to sound like I am complaining. My host is amazing. For that matter, all Chileans are amazing. Hospitality seems to run in people's blood here. It's honestly indescribable. Not to mention that the home I'm living in is a very special one - but not for its architecture nor its location nor its material things. It is a very special home because it is that of a very famous guitar maker. There is a waiting list for his instruments which sometimes takes years to ascend, and that is worldwide, not only in Chile. So, famous musicians stop by to play his guitars and hang out. Regina and I received what ended up being more or less a private concert this week when Marcelo Vidal came by the house. I have never heard an instrument played like that, and a beautiful thought came to my mind, that music is Gods greatest gift to man. I think this might be true. Anyway, I didn't mean to get too deep there. I only meant to say that this has been a very special experience. I will post a link below, but just know that he jammed out a hundred times harder for our private concert.

I want to return to the topic of hospitality for a second to tell everyone about my experience today whilst apartment hunting. The story actually begins last night, when Regina and I went to see an apartment. There is a family living in the apartment currently. I think back to the times when potential renters came to see places where I was living. All I could think was, "Get the hell out of my space!" and, "no you may not see my bathroom." This family was exactly the opposite. They welcomed us into their home. They spoke with us forever, taking time to piece together my broken spanish, they offered us information about the apartment. But it did not end there. They said they wanted to drive me to the owners office, because it was difficult to find, and that I should join them for lunch afterwards. Sure enough, they took me to the owners office, which would have been very hard to find, the next day. After receiving the bad news that the apartment was already promised to someone else that morning, the daughter (who is coincidentally gorgeous beyond words and loves extreme sports such as rock climbing and snowboarding), walked around to all of the neighboring apartment buildings in the downtown area with me, helping me negotiate prices and options. Once lunchtime rolled around, we walked back to the house and ate lunch with her entire family (mother, brothers, father, and her), who were all the nicest people I have ever met and coincidentally also were all beautiful. We talked for hours until her mother gave me a ride to the supermarket that is right by my house. Oh, I forgot to mention that her brother invited me to play soccer with him over the weekend at the courts near my house! Anyway, I'm hoping to continue to be friends with this family and, as the mother offered, exchange more meals with the family for table-side English lessons.

My second week report is positive, thanks to some very special people. I also miss everyone back home. Save up. If you raise the funds for a plane ticket, I'll show you the time of your life.

Last, I have noticed from Chris's blog that people like lists. Here is mine.

Observations:
1. Jumbo is the South American version of Walmart.
2. Chilean people wear watches but rarely use them.
3. Chileans like to say "po" on the end of every word.
4. Not comfortably speaking the same language as someone and carefully helping one another understand is a pretty sexy thing.
5. There are kindhearted, beautiful people in every part of this world and possibly more per capita in Chile.

This is Marcelo playing one of Raphael's guitars:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yC5l9L-cgzQ&playnext=1&list=PLA9F54F5136F3AC50

Things are different here in a beautiful way – my report on culture shock

Climate: I left America while much of the country was experiencing a record-breaking heat wave. Two days later I was in below freezing temperatures. My body had little time to adjust.  There were some common Chilean practices that made adapting somewhat more difficult. The houses here have no central heating. Or in the case of my temporary host family, a house might have heating, but it is overly expensive to use. Instead, some homes use wood burning stoves. Everyone wears jackets inside, and layers upon layers under that.  The only real bothersome part of it all is the sinks. Most sinks in public restrooms and even many homes have just one temperature: cold. The home in which I am staying is very nice, and has hot and cold, however, most of the time I am too lazy to go down and turn on the water heater each time I want hot water. I suppose that this is a much more efficient way of living, and that we are pretty wasteful in the United States to constantly have a giant tub of water heating for use at our convenience. Some people might say, “It really makes you glad for everything you have.” For me,  it makes me ashamed that we live such wasteful lives in the U.S. and aren’t even aware. As for showers, forget your burning hot, “wake the fuck up“ type of shower. The water gets nice and warm, and that’s really all you need.

People: I’m just going to start out by saying that people are happier here. They live more frugally and have fewer material things, but seem much happier. I have been here more than a week, and literally have not seen anyone get mad a single time. I haven’t seen anyone older than a small child get upset or cry – it’s remarkable. Besides that, people have great sense of humor, and are constantly joking (most of which I don’t understand, but only some of which is at my expense). It is crazy how affectionate people are. You get kisses when you first meet, kisses when you say goodbye, and sometimes in between. Girls who you barely know want to hold your hand or arm while you walk together. Guys even hug each other sometimes and there is no fear of homosexuality that comes along with it. People generally enjoy being much closer in proximity to one another, which is kind of cool. Speaking of which, the clubs here (called discotecas) are slammin like all the time. Chileans love to party. And I don’t just mean on weekends. Actually, it is very popular to go out mid-week, because Chileans enjoy a sort of “mini vacation” to nearby cities, or the coast, or to the mountains each weekend. And the clubs are crazy busy. Most have several bars inside, in different areas of the club. One area is typically for dancing, and then there is plenty of space to eat, drink and ‘conversate’ in other rooms or areas. The girls love to dance, and are amazing dancers. You can go up to any single girl or group of girls and ask if they want to dance, and they are always willing. I guess there is a distinction in Chile between wanting to dance with a girl and wanting to sleep with her. The one difficult thing is that girls expect you to know how to dance, and I don’t mean ‘bump and grind.’ You better know how to spin some girls, and have some moves as well. The one disconcerting thing, which is also kind of cool, is that girls and people in general will make long, unbroken eye contact with you. Staring is not considered to be rude. But on the other hand, don’t take it that just because a girl is staring at you that she is interested in you. This is not necessarily the case.

Safety: I want to make this its own category because I think it is remarkable. Santiago, where I stayed for my first week in Chile, has the least violent crime for any major city in South America. Simultaneously, it has a huge amount of petty theft. But generally speaking, you feel very safe down here. In the streets, everywhere you go. I have never felt so safe. I have not seen a gun or weapon since I have been down here. I have not seen one fight or argument, besides one between a boyfriend and girlfriend. I asked the bouncer at a very popular club how often he has to break up fights. He told me in the year he has worked at the club, he has never seen a fight. It is a completely different feeling, and generally, people feel content and there isn’t the same sense of inadequacy that exists in the US, which I think can often lead to hatred. But who knows.

This town: This town is not a huge one. Rancagua has 200k people, but if you did not know that you might think it had millions. It is always so busy and bustling. There are people who walk to main drag all the time and people break dancing in the street, as well as ridiculously good skateboarders hitting every other big set of stairs. The biggest shocker is the dogs. There are endless amounts of dogs living in the streets. Before you get all sad about homeless dogs, hold on a second. First of all, these dogs are pretty well cared for. People tend to put out food and water, and when they can’t find food, they rout around like raccoons through trash. Also, they are smart. They live all over Chile, in both the rural areas and the big cities. They walk the streets, but stop at crosswalks, crossing only when humans do. If you are walking a direction they want to go, they might follow behind you for a few blocks before turning down an ally or side street. They don’t have dog catchers here. They don’t have pounds or doggie prisons. But Darwin quickly eliminates the unintelligent dogs, the crazy dogs, and the mincey little dogs. This means that many of the dogs walking the streets are German Shepherds and Collies and a few bull breeds – a solid population. Many people cover these dogs with home made coats and sweaters. They all run around saying hello to one another, barking and sniffing. A few days ago, I watched two dogs barking at one another from across a busy street. When people started to cross they ran towards one another, sniffed each other, then ran off together playing. All in all, dogs have a pretty decent chance here. So, before you get overly sad about the homeless dogs, remember that in the US, they would sit around in cages in shelters until they were euthanized. I figure at least the dogs here have free will. Nevertheless, it is still heartbreaking when a dog follows you all the way home after you feed it, and you have to tell it to scram.

Jesus, only I would write the biggest paragraph in my essay on culture shock about dogs.

Anyway, I know there are other things, like the graffiti, the youth, healthcare and other subjects, which I would like to touch on. I’ll be sure to follow up on those ASAP. Also, next Monday will be my first class teaching. I get the textbook on Friday. Hopefully I can prepare a good lesson over the weekend. Last, I found a ridiculously nice apartment. The only problem is that it’s unfurnished. How do I buy furniture with no car? Is there a Chilean craigslist? Fuck.

Why?

For my first post, I figured it would be appropriate to describe why I am doing this - why I am writing a BLOG about my life, my adventures, my travels as if it were worth spending time to read. Well, first, I admit that this is somewhat of a self-serving venture. After my first week abroad in Chile, I find that keeping contact with everyone I know and love has become somewhat difficult. I have been having some of the same conversations (mostly by email) over and over again, and have even found myself shamefully copying some parts of conversations and pasting them in the next. Sorry if you have been a victim of this laziness. Perhaps you have had thoughts like, "Why is he telling me that Chilean girls all have great asses?" I know you didn't need to know that, Mom, and I apologize.

Second, I hope that the things I write here will be more substantial than my communications on my other newly, regrettably chosen social media site. I will try to avert from one-line kickers that have come to mind about my new lifestyle, which will make little sense to those who have not experienced the target of the reference. This will be a place for explanation, for stories. This will be a place where those people who care about me enough to extend their 8 second attention spans a few minutes can read about what is happening with my life. But please don't think that I mean this blog will be painstaking to read. By all means it won't be. The amount of amazing things I have done since being here in Chile fills a year of my life in the states. I will have tons of stories to tell, and I won't exaggerate. 

Third, hopefully I can use this site to divert my family members away from overusing my facebook for keeping up on my life. Honestly, Mom, you don't have to "like" everything I post. Honestly, I think it might be scaring my friends away. Also, I promise to soon teach you the difference between writing on my wall where the world can see, and sending a private message. That way, next time you ask if I ran out of baby powder for my jock itch, all potential future wives will not go running for the hills (of which there are many here in Chile to choose from).

Last, I'm in a foreign country. While I speak decent spanish (which is improving all the time), it is honestly nice to step outside this experience and look at it. Hopefully, this will be a good opportunity to do that. I'll try not to be overly critical of the bad parts, and not overly enthralled with the good ones. All in all, I think this will be a good account of what it is like to be a foreigner in this country, trying to adapt, fit in, meet friends, and maybe meet a nice girl to date. 

So that is it. Those are my reasons. I'm sure there are many more in my head, or perhaps some reasons that tie together in more complex ways. But, for the most part, that is it. I honestly detest people who think their lives are so worth reading or even writing about, but I guess that I'm hoping mine will be. So this is my first blog. More to come.

P.S. I forgot to mention the name. Chile + Travel = Chravel. I'm not really all that clever...