08-31-08

Apuntes

• I finally have had a chance to do a bit more teaching this week--just five classes, so I am still going to try to get some more hours. The alumnos are really cute, but it's often difficult to get them to concentrate, yet alone speak English. However, there are some students who I can tell really, really want to learn. There is one student named Claudia, who has red glasses, and as soon as I started speaking, I heard her say "A mi me encanta Ingles," or I love English--so I have to do a good job! Next week, by special request, we will be translating "We Will Rock You." I welcome other ideas for songs as well!
• Saturday, I went on excursion to Cerro Benitez with about 30 of my students, as well as three of the other volunteers, students from their schools, various military personnel, and guides from Conaf. It was a celebration of National Mountain Day in Chile, and things were kicked off at the base of the hill by the old and vociferous Italian mayor, Mario Margoni, and a Conaf representative in a giant squirrel costume (pictures TK, tomorrow, I hope...the costume was carried all the way up to the top so the squirrel could pose for a picture with he Chilean flag). The mayor owns a lot of land outside Natales, where we were hiking, just north of the road to Cueva del Milodon. Apparently he has more than 1000 cows roaming around--nothing, of course, can grow down here with the wind and cold. "This is my land," he told me proudly, and then after a moment, he added, "Well, actually, this is all God's land. I'm just the administrator." Even though Natales is only a town of about 20,000, the mayor's rhetorical skills are worthy of a nation. He was standing on top of a rock with a megaphone, shouting "Eat fruits! Eat vegetables! Get exercise!" It was amazing! The hike itself was fun, though a bit slow with such an enormous group. By the time we got high enough, we were hiking in cloud, so it was difficult to see anything, although we did see a bunch of condors very close up, since they have a nest right below the cumbre. It was pretty surreal to see these enormous birds just appear from below out of the whiteness! At the top, we posed with the squirrel mascot and also the flags of Chile and Magallanes. The regional flag is blue and yellow, with a zigzagged white line representing the snow-covered moutains and the southern cross in the sky. One of the alumnos from G4, Germán, also carried our own little flags to the top. Everyone was quite proud, and it was beautiful to hear all the alumnos sing the Chilean anthem!
• After many visits with Andres and his mother, who is less than 5 feet tall, I finally got a refurbished, secondhand bicycle from "El Rey de la Bicicleta." It's minimal, but light and fully functional. I had a chance to go on a ride on the newly paved road that going North from Natales, quite a bit further than where I normally run. It was beautiful, and especially Zen-like, since I was riding on this straight road right toward the mountains, and it all felt effortless....that is, until I turned around and experienced the Patagonian headwind. There were hardly any cars on the road, and for a moment, I experienced what I thought there would be plenty of in Patagonia, but has proven to be rare--total silence! Coming back, I also noticed the same, beautiful owl sitting on a post near the water.
• There was a karaoke competition last night, which was very entertaining. I saw a big, burly guy with long curly hair, and the sleeves of his t-shirt rolled up belt out the most romantic and heartbreaking cancion you could imagine. A woman dressed in jeans and high heels, sang a song called Eres with such passion and confidence, that I almost didn't notice that she was lacking both of her front teeth! I made a horrible faux pas later in the evening, however. After a few piscos, my Spanish seemed to be improving, and I saw a woman I knew in line for the bathroom. We were joking around a bit, and there was another person beside us, who I thought was a man, since it was very dark in this little hallway where we were. When the other person went into the women's restroom, I said something like, "Hey, he can't do that!" And we were all laughing, and then I realized that the other people in line were trying to tell me that it was in fact, a woman. I still feel awful.
• My little brother Benja, who will be three in December, can almost count to ten in English! It will never cease to amaze me how quickly little kids can pick up language--and have a much easier time pronouncing things. (And it sure helps when the TV isn't on!)

08-25-08

Apuntes

• This Friday, I went out to get some groceries with my host mom, but before we ever got to the store, we pulled up in front of a nondescript house on Calle Libertad. A man emerged from the darkness, opened the gate, and let us pull into the driveway. He operates a makeshift service station in his backyard--and sells only the finest quality Argentine gasoline, which is about half the price of gas in Chile, even with a little profit for the middle man.
• Saturday, I went on a hike with Charlie, another volunteer (from Milwaukee, no less), and a group of students from the polytechnic. They can take "excursion" as one of their gym credits. We hiked through pampas and estancias, where we saw plenty of cows and sheep, as well as a real Chilean huaso, and also along the shore. Our first stop was Puerto Condor, where we saw at least 20 of these giant birds, who have nests nearby. We then passed a tiny community called Puerto Prat, and finally Puerto Consuelo, which was also just a tiny collection of houses and animals off a dirt road, but had one of the most beautiful views, right on a very narrow waterway with steep mountains in the distance. We could even see los cuernos, the twisting rocky spires of Torres del Paine--and also a gaping hole in the side of a mountain: Cueva de Milodon! I was pretty exhausted after the hike, even though it wasn't really that long, or even that far from Natales. I think that a lot of young people in Puerto Natales, even though it is so close to the National Park, and brings in thousands of tourists, don't really get to walk much in the countryside. So it's fabulous that high school students can take "excursion" for a gym class! They can also specialize in tourismo, gastronomia, or hoteleria, in addition to the usual polytechic subjects like automotive. After the walk, Charlie and I picked up a fabulous meal in town--for me, a beer and pizza, the perfect combination that just warms my heart and soul! I'm not sure if it was the fatigue, that the Austral was served "schop" (on tap), or simply that I was able to choose what I wanted, when I wanted it, but it was amazing.
• Sunday, I got up ridiculously early to catch the only bus to Rio Turbio, Argentina. The town is only about 35 km away, I think, but it took about an hour to get there, because of the border crossings (one stamp to get out of Chile, one to get into Argentina, another to get out of Argentina, and another to get back into Chile!). Not to mention that when my journey started, they were unable to break the equivalent of a twenty-dollar bill, so I had to wait 15 minutes while the bus driver asked all the passengers if they had change, and then had to walk around the center, to another bus station, to ask again! I came back to get my change later, and it was not a big deal, but I was surprised that a business, such as a bus company, would not have some spare cash on hand. When I got into Argntina, I wanted to doublecheck with the bus driver that the bus would come back to Natales that evening--he gave me a very vague answer: maybe there would be one, maybe there wouldn't be...he wasn't really sure, since it was a Sunday. My intention had been to go cross-country skiing, but when I arrived at the ski center (which was little more than West Bend's Sunburst, aside from the incredible cordillera in the distance!), I realized they only had downhill skis. It was kind of pricey to ski, so I opted for a couple hours of raquetas, or snowshoes! I tromped around some trails on the top of the hill, and actually bumped into at least one alumno from the Polytechnic school! It is a small world in this part of South America. I also spotted an eagle on the top of the hill, which was rare and stunning. I showed my photo to the woman at the ticket office when I came back, and she told me I'd have good luck. As it turns out, she was actually la dueña of the ski place, and she wound up giving me a tour of her hotel, and also offering me a job! Tal vez. I asked her about the bus back, and she told me I could get a ride with Cervando, a man who was also heading back to Natales. While he skiied away the afternoon, I walked to Rio Turbio, which, I hate to say, was a pretty crappy and depressing town, home to an enormous coal mine, graffitti, and a lot of abandoned buildings. This side of the Andes has apparently not benefitted from any of the tourism that has been so good to Puerto Natales. I walked back through el Bosque de Duendes, or Woods of the Gnomes, to meet my ride back at the hill. The woods were very snowy, and the trail was lined with very unusual--sometimes very dark and obscure--wooden sculptures. Apparently, many people believe that gnomes do in fact live there! I could believe it. When I arrived back to meet Cervando, I realized that his pareja is actually Susana, the yoga teacher from Natales! We went to fill up their truck with Argentine gas before heading back home on a very nice ride.

08-22-08

Apuntes

• This Wedesday, I marched with a few other profes in a parade celebrating the birtday of Chilean liberator Bernardo O'Higgins. It was a parade in true Chilean fashion, I think, very slow to start, with los militares marching and playing their instruments in fatigues. The governor of Ultima Esperanza and other dignitaries were seated in a little tent. There are some photos on Flickr. It was fun walking to the center with the alumnos, including los chiquititos, and getting to know them a little better! They are cute and funny, and eager to share with me bracelets, drawings, french fries (which they ran out to get during my class!) and chocolate. There is a very severe inspector in our school called Claudia, who warned me to be careful with the alumnos. I had to explain to her what "fuck you" meant, because one of the alumnos was saying it! (Me: "It's the worst word there is in English!" Her: "Just tell me. Just tell me!") She is a heavyset woman with dark-tinted glasses, and for some reason she burns insence in the library, but she is actually very nice to me. Overall, and in spite of just a few problems, I find the students adorable so far, especially since they all call me "Tia Eli"!
• Like many things in Chile, actaully getting started with my classes has been a bit slow. I've really only taught one class on my own this week, which went fine. Most of the time, I have been working with two girls Coni and Camila, and helping them get ready for a public speaking competition that takes place the week after next. They have to do a two-minute speech, in English, about JK Rowling. The memorization is difficult, but we've been working hard and recording the speech on Camila's cell phone. The only difficulty in our practice is that I always have to stop them from drifting to the computer to download music or go to Facebook!
• I went to a great yoga class last Tuesday at the home of Susan, who is originally from Germany. Her yoga studio is called “PatagOM.” There were five of us in the class, which was in Spanish. I think between yoga class and reggatone instruction, I am picking up on parts of the body quickly!
• I've also been running pretty regularly. I never liked running, but with the help of the sun going down over Balmaceda, right between two larger mountains, it isn't nearly as bad as I thought! I always pass this very fancy hotel, Remota, which is practically hidden in the hillside. (I think Jim and Cheryl would like it!) I usually turn around at a ferry called Skorpios, which they are working on right now, or Puerto Bories, an old meatpacking plant. I believe that some time ago there was an incident of labor unrest there, in which some workers were killed, and now it is a museum. Today I went a little further, almost to Puerto Prat. It's always gorgeous, because the sun sets over the mountains around six, but it was very windy today. Also, a truck full of Chilean guys in orange insulated suits, and lacking some teeth, asked me if I wanted a ride back to Natales. ¡No gracias!
• Even though Puerto Natales is really small, the town has it's own TV and radio station. I actually love watching the local news at night...it's already easy to see people I know (as it is walking anywhere in town), and often one of my fellow angloparlantes. Last night, there was an OVNI (Objecto Volador No Identificado, or "UFO") sighted over Cerro Ballena!
• To put it mildly (and to overwrite a somewhat more reactionary post) adjusting to family life has been a little difficult for me, even though my family is kind and generous. Sitting down for a huge almuerzo in the middle of the day is so different from scarfing down a sandwich at my desk at work whenever I felt like it! There is good and bad in both types of lunch, I suppose. Some things, though, are just hard to get used to--white bread, Fanta mixed with wine, TV all day long, or finding out that my hat has been in the toilet. And all without the aid of caffenated coffee!

08-16-08

What I miss

• My MacBook
• My bicycle
• Ordering a pizza at will from Marcelo´s
• Going to the farmers´market with John
• Whole-wheat bread

What I love

• Orange peels drying on my hot radiator, which makes my room smell lvoely
• Learning to dance to reggatone in Diana´s living room
• Running toward the mountains along the coast of the sound
• El Señor del la Querencia, my telenovela
• Yerba Mate, Argentine style, in a little wooden taza thorugh a silver bombilla...I like mine "amargo," strong and without sugar

08-11-08 G4

Today was my first day at G4, (I added a link to the school´s Web site, on the right), the basica where I´m going to teach. The students prepared a lovely ceremony, reading their best English off index cards. They sang the Chilean national anthem and also played a recording of the Star-Spangled Banner. Then, two pairs of students in traditional costumes (sombrero, shawl, boots, and ruffled dresses for the girls) danced the cueca, twirling white scarves in the air. (Just as Allison twirled her napkin on my last day of work!) The profesores had a little coffee and breakfast for me in the plush teacher´s lounge and told me to make myself at home. All of the teachers were very kind, although quite a few warned me that G4 is not only the smallest (126 students in 8 grades) school in Natales, but also one of hte poorest. Many students that do poorly in othe rpublic schools apparently wind up coming here. Until two years ago, it used to be a sort of boarding school for kids who had particularly bad lives at home. I met a psychologist who was on his way to make a visit to the hom eo a student who had not been showing up for school. Apparently last year´s volunteer had "discipline problems," but at least during my bisit today, I found no evidence of any of this--just lovely kids who were already calling me tia and running up to give me a kiss on the cheek. Claudio, the English teacher I´ll work with, and Ricardo, the school principal, took me on a tour of the school, which appears farily well maintained and active. There is one tiny room in the school with blue walls that they call the musuem. It is full of dead, stuffed animals, big and small--c cormorant, nandu, condor, and swan, even a Puma. The animals are old and worse for the wear, with fur and feathers that are patchy and matted down, but Ricardo seemed so proud to show them that I hesitated to say they were slightly sad, or scary. Then Ricardo, a heavyset bearded man in a suit, tie, and sweatervest, informed me that he used to unt. Once, he shot a guanaco. And when he walked up to his tach, he said the guanaco was still living. The animal raised its head to him, and Ricardo saw tears in its eyes. That was the last animal he ever shot, he said--now he just takes photos. But still, the school is proud of its little room and hwo it can be used to teach students. The aminals were donated from the Puerto Natales Musem, which no longer wanted its old collection. It´s turning out to be another relaxed week for me, since Claudio doesn´t teach Tuesday, and there are no classes Wednesday and Friday, because it is a holy day. The Spanish word for relax is descansar.

08-10-08 Cold, Quiet, Beautiful

Apuntes

• I am "Elly" to everyone here.
• My friend Diana tells me it´s easy to identify the extranjeros here, because so many (like me) wear knit hats with sort of Peruvian designs and earflaps. When my mom Paola drop me off at malabar, she asked the man outside the door, ¿hay gringos? as if to make sure it was safe for me to enter.
• The night starts late in Chile. This past weekend, we left for the bar at 1, and it was only at 3:30 that friends decided to go dancing at "Milodon" (giant, extinct sloth), the favorite disco in Natales. I was worried about coming home after 3, but my host mom came back later than I did. Most nights end at 5 or 6 at least.
• Living with a family again is an adjustment. Paola always wants to make sure I´m eating enough, literally pouring the last drop of crema de pisco down my throat! She is an excellent cook, and we eat very well, but Chileans seem to put sugar on just about everything and a lot of things in the store are very processed. As my guidebook puts it, "Sadly, the average Chilean diet is getting less healthy, as a result of increasing prosperity. Exercise levels are falling and consumption of meat, alcohol, fat, and artificial sugars is increasing, while consumption of vegetables has fallen to about half of the recommended level." Still the big grocery store in Puerto Natales is a step forward...it just opened a few months ago. Before that, there was only one tiny supermarket!
• I´m learning some Spanish listening to Nino and Paola sing to their children: "Salta, salta, salta. Salta cabellito salta!" Also, "No en la boca" is a phrase I hear a lot.
• My family likes to put the bread on the radiator during dinner. An innovative way of toasting.
• These words have recently entered my Spanish vocabulary: cisne (swan), centolla (king crab), ovejo (sheep), planchar (to iron), osorro (fox), ostion (scallop - we had fabulous empanadas!), suegro (father-in-law), trago (a drink/cocktail).
• Our Chilean Spanish teacher said it was best that we avoid the subject of Pinochet as much as possible. My dad, Nino, asked me what I knew about the dictator, and I wasn´t sure what to say because I had seen a picture of Nino´s jowly father in full military dress above the television. I mumbled something about the Human Rights Watch movie John and I had seen, but otherwise plead ignorance. And then today, when I was checking my email, an intense conversation just started up--I forget how. Nino told me his father was a "Pinochetista," a medic in the army during the dictatorship. He told me he could remember waiting in line for bread before Pinochet took power, but little else. He said that torture didn´t take place around Puerto Natales...although some of the roads around here, at least according to my guidebook, still may have some landmines. Extremes are bad, Nino said, far left or far right, and his politics appear to be right in the middle. It´s OK to talk now, he said, but for a while it was not. "They were listening," he said. Yet, even though Nino´s father was Pinochetista, other members of his family had to flee to Argntina (where they live now) because they were listed socialists. Reading the barometer of opinion and emotion about the past is still difficult!

08-07-08 Update from Puerto Natales

I´m out of my suitcase and finally at home! I arrived in Puerto Natales Tuesday and am living with Hector (Nino) Soto, his wife Paola, and their three children...Belen, 12, Benjamin, 2, and Alejandro, 1. Life at home is very busy with Nino and Paola running to their jobs as teachers, the little boys scampering around, and telenovelas blasting on the TV all the time. I´m starting to get into one show El Senior de la Querencia. Everyone seems to watch this historical drama...I have to see what will happen next, since one of the characters just received a sort of "chastity belt" as punishment for being my "ponica," another chilenismo.

After our flight down from Santiago, we spent one night in Punta Arenas--I´ve added a few photos of the Strait of Magellan and the town on Flickr, but I didn´t have a chance to see a whole lot. Tuesday afternoon, we took the bus up from Punta Arenas, it was a three hour ride through a landscape that was mostly flat, bleak, and covered with snow. Although the afternoon was clear and mild, the road was white and packed down with ice. We didn´t see many other vehicles on the ride north. Each time we did, our bus driver would flash his lights and wave before moving off to the side of the road a bit to make some room.

Puerto Natales, on Last Hope Sound, is beuatiful with rocky, snow-capped mountains in the distance and the water quiet and still in the sound. Wednesday morning, they had a little ceremony for us at the polytechnic school, and I met the mayor (an old and forceful Italian man), governor of the province, my students for the first time. The students gave me a little figurine of a milodon, a prehistoric animal that used to live in Patagonia. Yesterday, I gave my host family a few presents from home, including Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak. When I showed Benjamin the book, he shouted milodon, because that´s exactly what the pictures look like.

Life at home is very nice so far. I´ve been helping out a little bit at a Catholic school for girls today and yesterday. I won´t start working with my partner teacher Claudio until Monday. It´s a little cold in the house and I´ve been feeling a little sick the past few days, but everything is nice overall. Even for the smallest meal, a little "once" before bed, the table is always set elaborately with palcemats, a tablecloth bread, sugar, and lots of condiments, including a gigantic bag of Hellman´s mayonaise, which many Chileans like to put on just about everything. It´s a nice little formality, I think, and it´s been great sitting and talking with my new parents, brothers, and sister.

08-02-08

Don’t ever have a hangover it a hostel. It’s much worse when you’re in a bunk bed and sharing a bathroom with 20 others. Last night, the volunteer program threw us a little fiesta, and then we went out with one of the coordinators at a place a few blocks away. Though I was still feeling the piscos this morning, today was one of the most beautiful days we’ve had in Santiago—clear and blue and sunny. We took the metro to Cerro Santa Lucia, a big hill in the center of town. The bottom of the hill is where Pedro de Valdivia founded the city of Santiago in 1541. In the 1870s, an effort was made to transform Santiago into a more cosmopolitan and European place, so beautiful terraces, fountains, and walkways, even a chapel, have been built into the hillside. Cerro Santa Lucia is a beautiful place to stroll and get a good look at Santiago. The Andes were still covered in clouds, our smog, but you could still see the foothills, coastal cordillera, and lots of sprawl and condos.

After coming down, I walked to el Mercado Central, near the river. The market also dates back from the 1870s and is an active, bustling, place, made only slightly seedy by the inquisitive, whistling men lining the aisles. I walked through the seafood stalls, where men in white coats and hats were weighing octopi and filling bins full of mussels. The men also were also constantly hosing down the conctrete floor, which only made t market more steamy and the sea smell stronger.

I tried an empanada de queso and camarones. It was by far t best empanada I’ve had so far. The restaurant/marisqueria where I sat, like most eateries in the market, looked like a greasy spoon. In fact, the dark green tablecloth was stained with greasy circles—but the fish was fresh and delicious, and there were halves of lemons sitting on white saucers on each table. Los camarones were rich and filling, especially in combination with the cheese sauce inside the crumbly pastry. The place was called Tio Willy—and my server, Ronal, was friendly and chatty, dressed in a bright red sweater. He said he knew the Chicago Bulls. Ronal asked me how my empanada was—muy sabrosa, I said. Then I heard him laughing with the other waitresses. Is sabrosa the correct word? I asked in Spanish. Yes, he replied, but you must say Ronal is muy sabroso—that’s how I learned his name. After I paid, he asked where I was going. When I told him back to Barrio Brasil, he took my hand and walked me through the wet floors of the market to the street to point me in the right direction. Chilean people are amazing.

Later that night, a group of us went to La Piojera, a famous, rather underground (although yes, it’s in Lonely Planet) bar near el Mercado Central. We all had a terremoto—which is a glob of ice cream in a big plastic cup of cheap white wine. It was actually really good, even in spite of the day’s early promises to swear off drink. We sat in a tiny, smoke-filled room—the walls were covered in graffiti and the wobbly seats and tables were sticky with alcohol. In the corner, a group of young, long-haired Chileans were playing guitar, singing, and clapping together little white saucers for percussion.

The best part of going to the bar was this lovely family of five seated next to us. A couple in their 50s, Magnolia and Juan, their two sons, and their oldest son’s wife. The conversation started when one Chilean remarked that Richard, from New Zealand, looked like Quentin Tarantino. We talked for quite some time—the Chileans had questions about the use of the n-word in rap songs they had heard. Is it OK to say? They wanted to know. Nicole tried to explain.

The songs coming from the corner of the bar were written by Victor Jara, who often played at La Piojara. Pointing their fingers to their heads, our Chilean friends explained that Victor Jara was shot in the Estadio de Santiago during the Pinochet regime. (The stadium has now been renamed in honor of Jara, we learned.) The oldest son, who was wearing a plaid, western-style shirt, said that if we studied the music of Victor Jara, Violeta Para, and a few others, we would understand everything there was to know about Chile. He drew us a map of his country on the back of my placement, noting all of our placements in the various regions.

La Piojara was definitely authentic Santiago, and our family had been visiting so far back they had often seen Jara play there in his lifetime. Near the end of our chat, Magnoila signed her name on the wall with a pen. She explained to us that La Piojara has always been a place where all types of people—rich, poor, Peruvian, Argentine, even gring—get together under one techo.

Keep your placemat, Magnolia advised me. I already have it, I said, pulling out a rumpled up sheet of brown paper from my bag. The woman always knows—she said back—the man thinks about it, but the woman does it.

07-31-08

Today we visited la Escuela Alberto Hurtado in the morning for a brief observation. I have just a couple pictures of the school, which is set around a courtyard, I hope I can post them soon. Hallways and stairwells are in the open air. All of the students were so cute, and so happy to see us! It helped allay some of my fears about freezing up in front of a classroom. I sat in an English class with a room full of 15 and 16 year olds. One student said her name, and then announced:

“My interests are tattoo and my favorite animal is the seal.”

It was adorable. She asked me if I watched the TV show Miami Ink.

One boy stood up to ask me a question. What is your name, the one in the middle? He said to me. When I told him Elizabeth, he replied, “Elizabeth, you have beautiful eyes.” I could feel my face turn red, but could do nothing but smile in that class because the kids were just so cute. Their teachers were young and kind, and they spoke good English and liked English-language music, which is on the radio often in Chile. I could have stayed at the school all day.

After we returned back to Barrio Brasil and wrapped up our afternoon classes, we went to a large and glitzy mall in Los Condes, likely where the wealthy of Santiago go to shop. Katie and James bought boots and hats to prepare for their placement in Porvenir, on Tierra del Fuego!

On the way back into the center, our nice little group, which included my other roommate Clare, from Durban, South Africa, and Drew, from Austin, stopped for sushi at a quiet Japanese restaurant in Provedicenia, near la Universidad Católica. I had a lovely rainbow roll, miso, and a nigiri made of Chilean whitefish—I will have to look up the name. This lovely meal was accompanied by the cerveza Austral (“southern”) from Punta Arenas, where we’ll be heading Monday! I can’t wait to go, but I feel like I’m getting to like Santiago better and better.

We took a cab home, after negotiating the price ahead of time, as we’d been advised. The cabbie was so friendly and outgoing, he pointed us out sights and important buildings as we drove by them, but he also took us quite out of our way and took a number of wrong turns. Our American instincts (maybe not Clare’s) kicked in, and we started to think that perhaps, we were being “taken for a ride,” so to speak. But as it turned out, this was not the case at all. We just happened to have a very kind, older man as our driver who genuinely wanted to show us around in his taxi. At the end of the ride, he got out of his cab to say goodbye to the five of us (who had managed to pile in to his tiny car). “Disfrutalo, disfrutalo,” he kept repeating—enjoy it, enjoy it.