Welcome to Chillan

So last Thursday, after five and a half hours on a bus, we arrived in Chillan. The five of us staying here said our goodbyes to the five continuing on to Los Angeles (tear) and were then hustled off to a nearby elementary school for a welcome assembly and reception. We were photographed by the local media, and those of us that could speak Spanish were interviewed. During the assembly, we were introduced to our co-teachers and host families. They had some of the kids from the school perform traditional music and dance the cueca, which is the national dance fashioned after the flirtation between a hen and a rooster. I was enthusiastically enjoying the performance when one of the young men offered me his arm, and before I knew it I was performing the cueca in front of everyone. From what I can tell, you kind of hop around while twirling a handkerchief, which I did to the best of my ability, to varying degrees of success. They love embarassing gringos here. Andrew, the only male in our group in Chillan, was forced to perform three times, so I think he got the worst of it.

I spent the weekend settling in to my new living situation. My host mom, Emma, is very cute. She is 60 and retired from 38 years of teaching mathematics last year. She has many smile lines around her eyes, and smiles freely when talking to me about...well, I am rarely sure what she is talking to me about, but I appreciate her warmth. She is the mother of four boys--Christian lives in Virginia with his wife and two kids, Reuben lives in Santiago with his girlfriend, Lito lives in Chillan with his wife and daughter, and Felipe Esteban lives in Concepcion during the week, where he is studying to be an engineer. Felipe comes home on the weekends, so I met him on Friday. He is a darling 21 year old and smiles and laughs easily. He is very sweet, too. The gringos invited me to the circus last weekend, and I was talked into going by Andrew. Felipe walked me all the way there because he wanted to make sure I would be okay in the city at night, and he ended up staying. The circus was very bizarre...an actual circus in a tent, with animal tamers and acrobats and a 15 minute filler piece by a clown resembling Carrot Top in appearance and mannerisms.

Anyway, Felipe is a love, and I think Emma likes having a girl around to take care of. We have a housekeeper, Zuni, who is part of the family since she has worked for Emma for something like 23 years. She does the dishes, cleans the house, and apparently does my laundry, which makes me very uncomfortable. I explained to Emma that I feel awkward because I am used to taking care of myself and it feels strange to have someone waiting on me, but she told me to calm down and just enjoy resting this year. Zuni has tea with me in the morning and is very patient with me as I try to piece together in Spanish the actions of the previous day. She is always singing and humming little songs to herself, and talking to our six-month old golden retreive, Achilles. Achilles is very naughty, I think because he is a puppy and Felipe Esteban is away at school during the week so there is no one to play with him. Felipe and I played with him on Sunday, and he tried to use my shirt as a pull toy. We emerged from the wreckage covered in hair, slobber, and grime, and had to shower immediately.

My living situation is ideal. I am four blocks from downtown Chillan, which is more like a shopping center. It takes me about 15 minutes to walk through downtown to my school, which is a three story building called Liceo de Ninas, an all-girls high school. Chillan lacks tall buildings because a 1939 earthquake leveled the city and despite advances in architecture, people here seem unwilling to experiment with multistory buildings. From my third story classroom, I can see all the way to the cordilleras (mountain ranges) that surround the city. My walk to school is very pleasant, as the shop keepers are all out sweeping their walkways and setting up their merchandise. The weather has been beautiful; since Chile is in a drought, I have yet to experience the rain the South is famous for. It is just starting to get chilly at night and in the mornings.

I have had a hard time adjusting to the eating habits of my host family. For breakfast, we have desayunito, which is essentially tea and bread with different spreads like jam or dulce de leche, which resembles caramel that you put on ice cream. Lunches are huge and eaten around 2 pm with multiple courses. Yesterday, for example, we ate salad, bread, spinach soup, fish, and potatoes, and I turned down offerings of pastry and fruit for dessert. Then, around 7 or 8 pm, we eat onces, which is essentially the same as desayunito, with the added choice of a few leftovers from lunch or an extra pastry. I am already concerned about gaining weight here, since at two meals of the day, there is nothing to choose besides white bread.

Another difficultly I have had in adjusting to life in Chile is the directness with which Chileans address your personal appearance. I had been warned about this by multiple sources, but it still shocks me every time. For example, when I met my coteacher, a portly woman with a jovial spirit and a healthy appetite, I was leaning down to give her besos (a kiss to the cheek that is customary in greetings and farewells) and she says to me, "Thank god they sent me a fat one this year!" before she even uttered a hello! When I went to get my picture taken for my Chilean identity card, the women repeated over and over, "You are so white!" My family and coworkers constantly compare me to Lisa, the volunteer they had last year, and the other day at lunch there was a fifteen minute discuss of how Lisa and I are the same age, but I look so much younger, and if I were skinny I would only look about 15 years old. Of course this was the only conversation of the day I was able to understand! Chileans do not mean these sorts of remarks to be offensive and only offer it as a factual observation, which almost feels worse. I am just trying to remind myself of the cultural differences and the intentions behind the remarks, but this does not ward off the initital sting of the remarks. The fact that I am fat and white does not, unfortunately, protect me from the stares, whistles, and remarks of people on the street. I had expected, since Chileans are lighter skinned in general and I have dark hair, that being a gringa here would not be such a big deal, but people stare at me constantly and I feel exposed. I miss the anonymous feeling of being able to walk down the street without attracting attention. This will get easier with time, I hope. However, men make the most appalling remarks as I pass, even when I am walking with my 60 year old mama! Yesterday I was walking home and was assaulted by a call of, "Hey lady!" followed by a string of expletives. Somehow, this is not what I imagined my role of inspiring Chileans to speak English would look like.

The bright spot in my day is at mealtimes when I get to listen to conversations and try to participate. There is nothing like the feeling of acomplishment at finally being understood after struggling to express yourself in an unfamiliar language. Emma has many friends and family that are constantly stopping by for lunch or onces. We had a houseguest named Elisabeth over the weekend. Her and Emma both gave birth to four sons, and as their last sons reached puberty, their husbands ran off and shacked up with younger women. Divorce is very rare here, and the men are free to move on with their lives while the women are on their own. This makes Emma and Elisabeth infinitely sad, although they do their best to reclaim their lives. Elisabeth said she washes her hands of men, and Emma said she would consider a relationship, "sin sexo," or without sex. My contribution to this topic was that it seems unfair to me, because my parents are divorced and, while it sometimes makes me sad because I wish my family could all be together, my parents have found greater happiness with their new partners and have introduced amazing new people into my life. I wish I had more Spanish when we broach this topic, because many of Emma's friends dislike the way men treat women here and have much to say on the topic.

My school situation is slowly taking shape. I will be teaching several classes of freshmen, sophomores, and seniors. Some classes have chosen an English specialty in their studies, and seem very eager to learn and practice. Other girls seem dispondent or sassy, but I try to remember myself at their age and remain patient. I cannot get used to students greeting me with besos, coming from the US where we are instructed to never touch students. My coteacher is having some health problems, so I have been left to my own devices this week, which mostly means cleaning my classroom, which is huge, outdated and dusty, with collateral damage like broken windows, which I am sure I will detest come winter, cracked walls, tagging on desks. However, I have worked hard this week, dusting, scrubbing, hanging maps and arranging plants to make it an inviting place and a productive learning environment. I am excited to get started working with the students!

I was just starting to miss having people to talk to this week, especially now that I am finally being confronted with the challenge of speaking Spanish daily and being forced to use it to communicate my needs. I love my gringo friends here, but like I have expressed before, they are no replacement for friendships I have built over years. However, our friend Jason, the guy we met at our hostel in Santiago who is traveling around South America on a personal journey, randomly appeared in Chillan and we have gone out for beer with him the last two nights. I adore him more and more every time I talk to him. He is perceptive, funny, self-reflective, and so much fun--everything I look for in a good friend. Last night, he and I stayed out later than everyone else and had a two-hour heart-to-heart, which I must say has been the highlight of my week. We now know a little of each other's personal histories, which makes me feel so much more comfortable in friendships. I wish he were in our program, but I think we will somehow manage to see him with semi-frequency. Also, I hung out with Steph over the weekend, and we yapped the entire time. Again, I am so happy we are in the same town!

On the whole, Chillan feels very small and intimate. Jason thinks we are the only gringos in the city. I can see how it might feel boring here after awhile, but I think I will be very busy with my classes and family and that my time here will fly. This weekend, I am taking a bus back up north to the beach to visit my cousin Andy and his wife's family. The following weekend, Emma's son will visit us from Santiago, and I think we will have some sort of large family get-together. I met two of her nephews last weekend, and they are around my age. One of them, Nacho, just got back from four months in Alaska working on the fishing boats. He spent two weeks in Seattle on his way back to Chile, and I almost leaped into his lap with joy when he told me that! He speaks English very well, and I hope to spend more time with him.

And, one small triumph, to end on: yesterday as I was walking home, my bloodsugar got low so I stopped for an ice cream. The attendant and I had a conversation in which I knew exactly what was going on, and expressed myself appropriately. It is kind of amazing when such a small moment can feel so huge and bolster you against all the other struggles!

Oh, and I hope to post some pictures of my home, my family, and Chillan this afternoon!