Weekend Update

So, about the beach. I was pretty pleased with myself, because I was able to buy a bus ticket to Santiago, ride the entire five hours, take two subway lines across Santiago, and locate the house of my cousin´s family successfully all by myself in Spanish. It´s kind of a cool feeling when a small accomplishment feels really big. I feel like my scale here is much smaller. I feel really good when I can order ice cream and understand what is said to me, or get all my errands done in under two hours, or have a conversation with my host brother. Conversely, when things go poorly, and you have to abandon a story because your meaning isn´t clear, or you confuse what someone is talking about and make an ass of yourself, it can be devastating.

Anyway, it was pretty great to see my family in such an exciting setting as Chile. My Uncle Paul pointed out the irony that we have to go all the way to Chile to see each other, when we only live one state apart in the U.S. Daniela´s family was so lovely and kind and welcoming, and as always, it was cool to spend more time with Andrew and Daniela and get to know them better. Their daughter Stella is so precious! I had so much fun playing with her on the beach. My first couple of weeks in Chile, I kept getting struck by the magnitude of doing entirely normal things in an entirely different place. Ex: "Oh my god, I can´t believe I am eating dinner...in Chile!" or "Oh my god, I can´t believe I am going dancing...in Chile!" This feeling returned to me as I waded in the Pacific: "Oh my god, I can´t believe I am standing in the Pacific Ocean...in Chile!" I was grinning from ear to ear, partly because I absolutely love the ocean, and partly because, even a month into this adventure, I still can´t believe it is really happening to me. Stella kept wanting me to pick her up and wade into the ocean, and then race back to shallow water before the waves got us. This was a really fun game until Daniela joined us on the beach. Stella and I turned to wave to mommy, and I got hit but a huge wave that soaked me up to the crotch. The walk home was not pleasant.

I love looking at the night sky in Chile. At both the beach and in Chillan, the sky is beautiful when it is clear, and relatively free of light pollution, so you can see so much. Some of the constellations are different down here; for example, you can still see Orion, but you can also see the Southern Cross, which Uncle Paul pointed out to me and that I have never seen before. In a couple weekends, I am going north again to the city of La Serena, where nearby they have an astronomical observatory that I hope to visit.

I was really excited that through the family I was able to visit Valparaiso and Vina del Mar for a day. Both the cities were beautiful and interesting in entirely different ways. I hope to go back there and spend an extended amount of time. Valpo is kind of dirty and bohemian, with brightly colored buildings and houses tucked into the steep hills. We didn´t spend much time there, but we did go up in the ascensor to admire the vistas of the water and the cities. Vina is much cleaner and a bit more upper class in some ways, where there are beautiful beaches with parks and condos littering the shore. I got to eat a ton of seafood with my family at a restaurant in Vina, and discovered the richness of Chilean sea bass, which I would highly recommend to anyone. From the window of our restaurant on the beach, we could see sea lions swimming around the dock, scavenging from the fishermen above on the dock. It was really nice to visit with insiders who could take us to all the special spots. Daniela´s dad Samuel was the sweetest tour guide, making all sorts of little stops so Uncle Paul and I could get a taste of the cities. I hope to go back with my friends or my mom!

Sunday was one giant test of my patience. I was pretty much done with the seven hours of buses back to Chillan before I even boarded. My frist bus, from the beach to Santiago, was fine, until we entered Santiago. I was trying to confirm with the bus driver that he would be stopping at the Alameda, and he said something grudingly to me that I couldn´t understand. I was momentarily panicked, but some people sitting across from me told me they were going to the same stop, and assured me we would get there. Those kind of little moments of kindness mean infinitely more when you are traveling by yourself, nervous and tired. I could have leaped across the aisle into the lady´s lap, but I restrained myself. On the second bus, there was a screaming child in front of me that I thought seriously about strangling. Also, my dad calls me every Sunday, and especially this Sunday I was almost desperate to talk to him, so for an hour and a half on the bus I was clutching my cell phone so I could be sure to not miss his call. When he did call, however, I couldn´t hear him very well because of the din on the bus, and there are no words to describe my disappointment. Contact with home is at times my motivation, the one thing I look forward to above everything else that I am doing. Cell phones and email make it so much easier, but when my phone cuts out on Beth or mom, or I can´t hear Dad because of the noise on the bus, it is devastating.

This week has been another test of my patience. I spent the week observing my coteacher´s classes, and I feel really ready to have my own classroom. I have come to dread Tuesdays, in which we have teachers meetings until very late. In the English deparment meetings, the teachers speak in Spanish and some outright ignore me, but for some unknown reason, I am still required to be there. It feels like a monumental waste of time. I am trying to look at it as a chance to practice listening to and understanding Spanish, but at the end of the day, I just want to get the hell out of there! Some of the little quirks of beauracracy in Chile have started to irritate me, such as the meetings, or even just a general feeling I get of people watching over me and treating me like a child in the work setting. They will call me five times to make sure I bring an important number, but not tell me for a week that I am expected to sign in or out whenver I arrive or leave the Liceo.

However, after spending the week getting to know some of the students, I really feel like I made the right choice in coming here and that I am needed and appreciated. The different cultures of the different classes are so interesting. My two senior classes are utterly devoid of excitement about learning English, and could mostly care less about me and my class. However, some of the younger classes are so darling and eager! One of my sophomore classes is really excited, and some of them crowd around me whenever they can and ask me all sorts of questions: personal questions, some questions I find very strange, like do I know any famous people in America (apparently it seems like America is just teeming with famous people and you are likely to run into one on the streets of Seattle), and then they all want me to help them translate names of groups and song titles. This takes some improvization, like when I was trying to explain what "slipknot" means. After several attempts and the aid of my electronic translator, I think I got through to the girl. The one freshman class I have is so precious. I went to class on Thursday in a generally irritable and uninspired mood, to find that the class had prepared a surprise welcome party for me (independent of their teacher)! They had prepared a modest yet stunning spread of pop, chips, and cookies and had decorated the board with balloons, drawings, and the words "Welcome Miss Tiffany." One girl made me a beautiful sprig of flowers out of beads. I was so stunned and touched by the display, I welled up a bit. It is an amazing thing to feel so welcomed by a group of girls that have no idea who you are. It meant all that much more to me since I have almost no one here that I feel close to, while everyone I love is so far away. Also, it was a good moment for an attitude adjustment and a reminder that no matter how cranky I get, I can never allow myself to let my students down and must be prepared to do my best every day to teach them.