sitting, waiting, wishing

I am sitting in one of the cafeterias at Campus San Joaquin. Having just finished a surprisingly tasty although fishy salmon dish, I'm now sipping on the NesCafe that came with it. Now, I have never had gringo nescafe but I hear the flavor differs from country to country. So, here's the test. Grab your yummy NesCafe and try to place the flavor it leaves in your mouth...the flavor of burnt coffee perhaps? If so, definitely the same as Chilean NesCafe. The crazy thing is that there is absolutely no way NesCafe should be burnt because it's instant coffee...how would you burn it? Disgusting... But I still sip on it because I need the caffeine. The past few days have been a bit hectic mostly because they were filled with paper writing, one for my Spanish class and another for cinema. The cinema one is the real crapper. So far, over 8 hours have been put into just the writing of it...the writing of now 2.5 pages with 1.5 spacing. Another 2.5 pages remains. SO I sit here in the boiling hot sun that disappears behind frigid clouds every five minutes (let's play a fun game of "take off your two sweaters, put back on your two sweaters" woooo!) waiting to write the rest. Why waiting? Ah, now here's the key: it's a group paper. Or rather, a partner paper. If your face has become a mix of confusion, ridicule and frustration, then you know how I feel. Luckily, my partner is a girl from Michigan with Mexican parents and a fluent tongue. Unluckily, we have pretty different writing styles. I'm sure it will be fine...

Tomorrow I leave for a four day weekend in Mendoza, Argentina...The plan is to have Malbec, Syrah, chocolate and the beauty that is Argentinian beef spilling out of our pores by the time we return...some bottles, boxes and cheap leather goods might just be spilling out of my new huge backpack too (Thanks Mom and Dad! Happy Birthday to me!)

nothing really

These classes are really cramping my style. And so is this button: ç on the keyboard...which is not even used in the Spanish language if I´m correct. I do however like the easy accent márks.

on the verge of dreams

La niña gato...that is what my housemates call me, although only behind my back until this past weekend. The cat girl. Various reasons...Lauren's response was a wholehearted, "You are!! You are totally a cat!" Strange.

The last day of my sobriety...yeah

So I'm 21 tomorrow. It's a beautiful day out and so far I've sat outside soaking up the sun and filling my belly with an almond, strawberry and blue cheese salad followed by a macedonia (fruit salad)...and oreos, yeah I bet you were a little confused with such a healthy start. They were on sale ok, what do you expect. Tonight we're hopefully going to find a way to watch the Wisconsin vs. Michigan game but I am kind of doubting it will happen. Either way, we're having a party at my house and then heading to a disco.
21...it's going to be a funny birthday. First of all, I'm not sure how big the whole 21 factor would have been to begin with. It would have been nice to get free drinks though, that's always fun. However, it's not like my habits would change drastically after this day, they just would have been legal. But since I'm in Chile, obviously there is no 21 factor. Second of all, I got myself expecting a kind of nothing birthday. I usually make kind of a big deal about my birthday, I think birthdays might be a big thing in my family, or maybe I just really like them. And not just mine but everybody's....I like the thought of celebrating someone's life, while they are alive and when you personally know them. But I set myself up that the only thing I really wanted on my birthday was a good meal, or at least an adventurous meal, even if I had to go alone. Thirdly, yes I have made some fantastic friends so far in Chile; however, I don't really feel like I have a solid group here yet, or at least not a very large solid group. Fourthly, I'm a bit sick. Yes yes, Madison and AIESEC people surely are gaping at their computer screen thinking, "what does that have to do with anything?" but it puts a bit of a damper on the whole Insane Birthday idea. (sidenote: my housemates said in astonished tones to me this morning, "Jenna, you're going to drink!?" sans the sarcasm that would have been included in Madison...who have I become?!? She certainly sounds boring.) So anyway...my birthday, no matter what my expectations were before, now I'm thinking my birthday will be chill with a crazy twist. I may have to invent a mixed drink to go along with that theme. Any ideas? No pisco included please.

for those of you waiting to hear about La Serena, I wrote a post about it, tried to publish it and instead it was erased...I'll take that as a sign. However, short story is that I missed two buses, had salt water whipped at me for 45 minutes in freezing weather, saw sea lions, peguins, dolphins and other animals, trekked through caverns and scaled up island rocks, laughed more than I have in a long time, played cards, had great conversations, feared for my life in a rowboat with an engine attached in the ocean, had way too much yummy food, speant over 24 hours of the weekend in a van/bus, and loved it.

words get in the way

The dust from ceramics has mixed with my allergies has mixed with my lack of sleep has mixed with my ever-increasing problems with the English language (spending 3 minutes trying to figure out if uncle is seriously spelled like that is not my version of fun) to produce a me that can't explain the fantastic holiday weekend that ended at 5 this morning. However, there are new and, for the time being, unexplained and uncensored (don't get excited this just means I haven't deleted the fuzzy ones yet) pictures in the "La Serena" album.


Talk about run-on sentences...

I've got to keep on movin...

I feel like I'm racing against time right now...what a cliche line...but I do. Right now I have times set aside for Mendoza, Buenos Aires, the south of Chile, and La Serena (this weekend for four days...yay!) then I have my family coming and my birthday weekend...21 next weekend...a bit crazy. Anywho, that leaves 4 weekends open and I still need to get to Vina del Mar, Valpo, Pomaire and everywhere else. haha. It's time to stick this vacation, errr studying into high gear.
So I'm going to La Serena this weekend. I'm going with two girls from my program and then a bunch of people from a bunch of different countries that are connected through one way or the other. I am pretty excited to get out of the city. Although, I love Santiago more and more, especially with the weather improving like it is. Good times.


If anyone has any contacts in Buenos Aires, Argentina (for the last weekend of October) or Curitiba, Brazil (I'm going to be there with Lauren the first weekend of December and she's going to be working all day, leaving me all alone in a city where I don't know the language (sounds strangely familiar...)) I would love it if you sent those my way!

Time, it's on my side, yes it is?

I had a minor panic attach today when I realized I only have about 2 1/2 months left in Santiago. This will probably come off as worse than I mean it, but when I think about going back, I am now about as scared as I am excited. I am taking that as a good sign.

"I'm not sure we have enough..."

My house decided to have an asado yesterday, which is a barbecue with a South American twist. The table was stocked with beer, chips, guacamole, salsa, some fantastic potato salad (which is a huge compliment coming from a girl who doesn't generally like potato salad), and then tons and tons of carne (meat) cooked on an electric, yes electric, grill.
Half of us were grabbing food and running back to the tv to watch the US Open finals. I made some brownies in case anyone had any extra room for food anywhere in their body...which apparently we did because the brownies and ice cream are gone. The night was complete after playing Nunca he...(I never...), Sardines, and charades. Charades got pretty frustrating for me with the language barrier and all since we were only doing films and we could do the English or Spanish title...because Spanish titles are different than the English ones. All very confusing.

It was a fantastic day.

11 de Septiembre

El 11 de Septiembre has a different significance in Chile than it does in the United States. Today marks the 32nd anniversary of the Chilean coup d'état of 1973 that brought Augosto Pinochet to power. Apparently it is a time of protests across the city...which means I will be staying out of the center of town today.

Yesterday our program had our second paseo and, as it was September 10, it was used to educate us on Pinoceht's era. I have no pictures because there was never a time where it seemed appropriate. We started with a talk by Pedro Matta, who was a prisoner at Villa Grimaldi. He described the place, and even had a model of the area and the buildings it contained. As his talk came to an end, I was left feeling like I was missing something, which of course I was due to translation...but he simply described what people went through at Villa Grimaldi...like an assembly line except instead of creating an object, they destroyed human beings. I felt like I should be more impacted by what he was saying..."perhaps it is the translation" I thought. I had no idea what was to come.

Our next stop was Villa Grimaldi. This walled-in area sits in Santiago among residences and stores. It is now a "Peace Park" with only one or two buildings, some fences and pools still standing from the original structure. As Pedro gave us a tour, I could see this place as being incredibly beautiful in the warmer months when it has more upkeep, somewhere I could come to read a book and relax. There are sculptures and collages, and plants everywhere. However, listening to Pedro's tale of what happened in this place only made the beauty of it horrifying. He said it was beautiful during its torture days as well. There were gardeners who tended to the area, especially to a bed of roses. This same bed of roses was used as a place to rape the female prisoners. Guards would play music over the prisoners' screams from pain. The guards would also throw pool parties in the warmer months, forcing the female prisoners to lounge about and get cozy with them and later would use the pools as places of torture. The irony and absolute terror of it was disgusting and overwhelming. I started feeling nauseous midway through the tour of Villa Grimaldi and there were others who had to sit down and stop listening. Apparently most Chileans have not heard this story. Our guide told us that most of the residents nearby simply think it is a park. Many houses are built so that their windows peek right into the "park", without knowing the dehumanization of its past.

We continued on to the general cemetary of Santiago. This could be one of the most beautiful and most interesting cemetaries I have ever seen. We went to the monuments and tombs for Allende and others involved in Chile's political struggles and saw the graves used for bodies found without identity. We then went to the memorial for those disappeared or murdered while Pinochet was in power. Name after name after name, filling a gigantic wall before us...

At various times during the paseo, tears filled Pedro's eyes. The pain he felt for what happened to himself, to others like him and to his country was still fresh and searing. He cried for Allende, for the nameless tombs, for the thought of those who revealed information because their children were being held captive. He cried for the kindness of other prisoners, for the humans treated as animals, and for the country that he and others fled. A dichotemy of having such pride in a country full of wonder and beauty but also hatred and shame for a recent past of secrets, murder and pain.

Life gets too real at times, when things you read about in books or see on movies come to life and are staring at you in the face. I imagined what it would be like, if I could not go back to the United States for fear of my life...to wake up one morning and a friend or family member was simply gone, perhaps without a trace, ever...to be tortured or killed because of your beliefs, your political affiliation. I cannot even come close to imagining it...I cannot come close to comprehension. (Another person's description of her tour with Matta...about midway down the page)

OH Sussudio

So I am laying in bed, laptop propped on my stomach, and wishing someone would be bring me breakfast. It was an early night for me last night...we got home from Miercoles Po around 3:00. Miercoles Po (Literally, Miercoles--Wednesday, Po--Chilean slang, short for pues, it really has no meaning and is kind of used as a way to emphasize) is very strange. Every Wednesday, people, especially extranjeros (foreigners) go to a different bar or disco, which is Miercoles Po. I have no idea who is behind Miercoles Po, who says which bar we go to, how it started...nothing. It is strange however. I spend most of the time trying to figure out which country people are from. I have become more and more sure that this is impossible. There are people who you can think "ok, definitely not American" or "definitely Chilean or another Latin American country" but even then you would be wrong a bit. Last night I joked to Sarah that she looked gringa and she didn't even "pretend" to be offended, she simply was. And I couldn't sputter in my Spanish that shouldn't I be offended by that? The thing is, I wouldn't think twice if someone told me she was gringa and I wouldn't be offended if someone told me I looked like I was from a country I wasn't...China? ok, you're insane but I'm not offended. I think that's the craziest thing to be offended about, especially when talking about the US. America is such a mix of people that everyone in the world can look like they are American. The only difference is what you wear and how you act. And even then, I am finding it more and more difficult to define America. How do you say what a normal American does? eats? wears? Too many factors go into that. You can make some generalizations but even then I almost feel like there are too many exceptions to the rule to attempt it. I don't know. It was a fun night though. First time I have laughed so hard I cried in quite a while, which my roomies got a kick out of...they also get a kick out of me trying to roll my r's. Oh well. I have a speech impairment. (extra points to my dad if he gets the title of this blog and why I chose it...I'm not sure if others will get it)

these are a few of my favorite things

I have gotten a hang of doing laundry, I think. I even had time to wash my sheets...which just puts me in a fanstic mood! It literally makes me grin...I am such my mother's daughter.

I really enjoy when my housemates ask me what something in English means (since we watch American TV pretty exclusively, this happens quite a bit). Things I have been asked to define: queer, beets, teeny weeny, Jeepers Creepers (ok, seriously, how do you explain what Jeepers Creepers is?) Sloan fellow, the difference between being a board member at a company and being the president, deuce, etc...

My housemates and I watch the US Open together. It reminds me of high school. I miss playing tennis. If I had a raquet I would definitely be playing...although a housemate told me the nearest courts are tiled in some parts...tiled? who tiles a tennis court??

It smells like Spring...finally!

And what does that have to do with me...

I remember hearing people being critical of American media because when something happens abroad (plane crash, bombings, etc), the focus is often put on what happened to Americans involved. If this is not a worldwide occurence, then it is something that the US and Chile have in common. Two-thirds of last night's coverage of the New Orleans' situation was about Chileans. Interesting.

I also am realizing just how PC the US is. I still tweak a bit when people in my house refer to others as "the gay" "the chinese" "the black (guy)". I mean, it's not meant to be offensive and when you think about it, it's kind of not, but then it comes down to the whole "labeling" thing. I have just started making fun of the whole gringa thing myself. My housemates were watching Roomraiders on MTV...who knows why...and I just sat there praying that they did not think most gringas were like this in reality. I am sure if I talked to them about it, they would say "no, of course we realize that most American girls are not like this," but I think it is still something that is in the back of their minds. In addition, four of my roomies are from Cancun, which does not bode well for their impressions of Americans, men or women. I already told one girl that Spring Break wasn't really my scene and I thought it was kind of stupid, to which she replied, "OH THANK GOD! I am so glad you said that because it is just horrible. You watch TV and think, 'no, these girls cannot really be like that!' but then you meet them and have to work at places they stay and you realize, 'yes, they are really like that'" Which is really one of the main things I have against Spring Break as it is.

I think one of the more interesting things I have found in Chile is people's feelings about America, no matter what country they are from. It seems like kind of a love hate relationship. On one hand, it seems like people are slightly enamored of the US. Some of my housemates discovered Google Earth, and after looking up where they live, they looked up New York City, Washington DC, Disney World and the like (it was also interesting that they kept asking me where things were...looking at New York City, asking me where certain buildings were or which monuments in DC were which. I was only slightly more helpful than you would think I would be). At the same time, they have this kind of "oh he's a gringo with a disdainful look on their face" attitude going on. Or if someone mistakes one of my European roomies for being American when they are with me, they "pretend" to be insulted. Then in the next breath they will be talking about how all their friends in the scientific field want to go to the US because it has so much technology and pays so well. That conversation was kind of funny because I kept waiting for her to get to an insult to the US so I didn't really understand exactly what she was saying...until I realized that she was complimenting the US and no insults were on their way.

Mama said there'd be days like this

There are times...

that I hate the Spanish language, that I wish everyone in the world spoke English, or at least everyone I ever would come in contact with...ever

that I understand exactly what a person says, and my tongue becomes a foreigner between my lips and words dance off it

that I spend pondering why countries have different names in different languages. Would it not make more sense that the name of the country should be what the people in that country call it, no matter what language YOU speak? that's like saying that if you speak Spanish you can call me Juanita... which you cannot, unless there is some inside joke behind it...that I am in on. It makes no sense, and I am seriously considering starting a movement

when I feel so frustrated that I feel like I am going to cry, and then I have a venting session with one of my housemates or program mates and I forget whether I feel like crying because I am so frustrated or because I can't believe how many amazing people there are in this world and in my life

that I literally spend all morning in bed
that I literally spend all day walking...and walking...and walking...
that I go out to eat because my cocina (kitchen) is so dirty
that I am a subject of jokes
that I can make jokes (in Spanish--more of an accomplishment than you may think)
that I can't believe I am going to be here until December
that I can't believe I'm only going to be here until December
that I think about all the people and things I am missing
that I think about all the people I am meeting and things I am experiencing.

I chose to go to a documentary about Allende and then to a cafe with Sara (Belgium) Moya (France) Andrea (Mexico) and Chrissy (my program), instead of Wild On with Tara Reid. Yes, I realize I missed a fantastic chance of seeing the antics of Tara Reid up close and also freaking my parents out with the email, "hey mom and dad, could you tape the E! Wild On show from Santiago for me? I might be on it." Next time...