Diez y Ocho de Septiembre--Felices Fiestas Patrias!

How can I describe the madness of Fiestas Patrias and make it real to you? If you think Americans burst with patriotism, proudly display the American flag, drink too much and throw incredible parties on Independence Day, let me just say that we've got nothing on the Chilean celebrations of their country and its independence. Our celebrating in Chile lasted for four days, from the 18th of September to the 21st, in which I ate at five different barbeques. By the end of the celebrations, just thinking about meat made me feel a little sick, and I really wanted a big salad.

Nearly every house displays their Chilean flags, either from flag poles or hanging in the windows. Here's our house with our flag in the front window.

One of the coolest things about Fiestas Patrias is that it is prettymuch a family-oriented holiday. Whereas in the US, the Fourth of July is sometimes more friend-group oriented, Chileans spend every day of Fiestas Patrias with different parts of their family. There are copious amounts of food in the way of empanadas, chilenitas (sweet bread topped with merengue), meat in every form, ensalada chilena (essentially tomatoes, onions, cilantro, oil and salt), wine, chicha (alcoholic, fermented grape business, it tastes like juice, which makes it killer), ponche, beer, and if you can handle it after everything else, hard liquor.

Meat on the barbeque, and this was just for appetizers!

Lots of other fun stuff happens during Fiestas Patrias, too. For instance, the little kids and often adults dress up like huasos and huasas in traditional clothes from el campo (the country). This means girls put on pretty, frilly, brightly-colored floral print dresses. The boys wear ponchos or white shirts with short black jackets, spurs, and black hats that are a cross between sombreros and cowboy hats. It's pretty festive!

The barbeque gets started in my Aunt and Uncle's backyard, and you can see my "neice" Cata in her huasa outfit. Precious!
A huasa kiss!
My cousins Nacho and Emilio are camera whores!
Me with a bunch of short Chilean women and Emilio.
Other festivities of Fiestas Patrias include all sorts of little games, such as tug of war or trompo. Trompo is a top attached to a stick by string, and you have to flip the top up and catch it on the top of your stick. It is pretty hard. We played men vs. women. I think the women won, but there was lots of cheating going on!

Trompo action shots.
My other host brother, Reuben, is a fierce trompo player.
My favorite part of the day was all the dancing we did. We listened to a lot of "traditional" music, which to my ears resembles Mexican music from the campo. We also blasted the ubiquitous reggaeton, to my delight! Then everyone who wanted to entered a dance contest. My cousins put numbers on everyone's back (I was an 8) and you had to find your partner. Then, they played snippets of different types of music and you and your partner had to bust impressive moves. We danced to reggaeton, electronica, salsa, merengue, even Madonna! I was paired with my host brother Lito, and we made it to the final round of three partners! However, the last round screwed us because we had to dance the cueca, the traditional Chilean dance which I have never quite learned. I hopped around to Lito's directions ("This way!" "In the middle!" "Turn!") but it was a mess. We got third place.

The dance contest gets underway.
Gunning for third place!
Look at Emilio go! He definitely beat Lito and me.
After the dance contest, there was lots more cueca danced. The cueca is modeled after the flirtation of a rooster and a hen. You hop around in a figure 8 while twirling or hiding behind a handkerchief, and sometimes there is stomping, and the spectators clap to the beat and whistle. It is actually a pretty sexy dance, if you can get beyond the fact that it is all about conquest and domination! After six months in Chile, I can. It was fun to watch all the cueca happening, and even participate a little!

Nacho and Cata dance the cueca.
Lito and his daughter dancing the cueca. Preciosos!
Chileans love to make the gringa dance the cueca, especially since I didn't know how. Here I am trying my best with Rodrigo.
Everyone dances the cueca on Diez y Ocho!
I'm not sure what's happening in this picture, but I like it. My cousins are locos!
After we worked up an appetite with all that dancing, it was time for the asado! Actually after a full afternoon of snacking and drinking, I wasn't sure how much more I could eat, but once the meat arrived, it wasn't hard. There was every type of meat imaginable, including pork, longaniza (pork sausage), beef, chicken. At one of the other asados, I even ate barbequed cow udder at Lito's suggestion. It was pretty good! I basically ate meat and vegetables, since they had my new favorite dish, beets! The vegetables helped refresh and rehydrate after my plate of meat.

Part of the group chowing down...see how seriously I was gnawing on my carne?
I would like to lie to you and say that after the asado, things got crazy. Instead, I took an hour-long nap on my Aunt and Uncle's bed. It made me miss my American brother, because we always nap on the couch after Thanksgiving dinner. When I woke up, I wanted to go out dancing with Felipe and our group of cousins, but I went to round everyone up and Emilio was passed out and Nacho was about to take a nap too, so my dreams of partying died. It was okay, though, because I felt like I was carrying a bowling ball in my belly!

How to Make Empanadas de Pino:

Empanadas are the official dish of Fiestas Patrias, it seems. Empanadas are like little pies. Everywhere we went to celebrate, we ate empanadas, for four straight days. Empanadas from the oven, filled with meat and onion, fried empanadas filled with meat or cheese, sweet empanadas filled with pear...all super delicious in their own way. Zuni taught me her recipe for empanadas de pino del horno, which is my favorite kind. And I have yet to find someone who makes a better empanada in Chile than our own Zuni! Oh, and this is a two-day process, so you really have to commit!

Day 1:

Ingredients:
8 hardboiled eggs, peeled
20 medium onions, peeled and chopped
2 liters of water
1 kilo of beef
3 tbsp cuminseed
2 tbsp paprika
2 heaping tbsp salt
1/4 cup vegetable oil

Chop onions and rinse them in a strainer. Add water and boil on the stove for 10-15 minutes.
Drain the onions and rinse through the strainer a second time.

Our dog Akiles takes a peek at the onion-chopping process.
Slice the beef into tiny cubes.
As the onions are draining, briefly heat the cuminseed and crush the heated seed in a mortar and pestle. Add oil, salt, cuminseed, and paprika to the pot and stir to make an oily paste. Add meat and cook until browned. Add onions after meat is cooked, stir thoroughly and continuously. Add extra seasonings to taste--usually it needs more salt!
After cooking for 15-20 minutes, let stand on the stove, covered, overnight.

Day 2:

Ingredients:
2 kilos flour
500 grams of margarine
1 tbsp salt
1/4 or 1/2 cup hot water
20 or so black olives (they are better if they still have the pits!)

Combine dough, salt, and margarine on a large cutting board or counter and knead together, adding hot water periodically.
Slice the hardboiled eggs (put them in the freezer for a bit if they are falling apart).
Take a handful of dough and roll it out into a thin pancake.
Place two heaping spoonfuls of the meat and onion concoction, an olive, and a slice of egg into the center of the dough.
Fold dough over and cut around the edges, tamping the edges together with your fingers. Use some of the olive water as glue if the dough doesn't want to stick shut. Fold the edges up and poke two holes in the top with a toothpick. Place completed empanadas on a cookie sheet.

Beat an egg and paint onto the top of the empanadas.
When the tray is full, place in heated over for a certain amount of time...things get tricky here because our oven doesn't register its temperature, so I was told to put it in a hot oven for an amount of time that depends on how hot the oven is. I am pretty sure this means I will burn some empanadas until I figure out what that phrase really means! Let's guess 20 minutes at 350 degrees!
After "an amount of time, depending," your empanadas will be done and ready to eat. And they will be suuuuuuper rica!
I can't wait to fix empanadas for my brother...he is going to love them!

How to Make Ponche:

I have been begging my host mama and Zuni to teach me the secrets of Chilean food and drink, and in the days leading up to Fiestas Patrias, I picked up some new tricks. Below, Mama Ema's directions for making ponche:

Ingredients:
1 large can of canned pineapple (ours was an 850 gram container)
2 liters of white wine
1/4 cup of sugar
1 cup of sprite
2 teaspoons shreded lemon peel (is that called zest?)

Directions: Combine everything in a punch bowl, mix it up, and let it sit over night. Occasional tastings are mandatory!

Variations: I have also had ponche where the pineapple was put through a food processor and shredded, but I didn't like it as much. You can also substitute canned peaches for the pineapple, but cut them into bite-sized pieces first. At a party at Nacho's once, we had ponche of red wine and strawberries (again cut into bit-sized pieces), which was by far my favorite. I think they left the sugar and sprite out of the red wine concotion. Clearly, the only time I eat fruit in Chile is when it is soaked in alcohol!


Learning to cook, bake, or even mix up some punch is stressful for me in Chile, because Chileans cook like my Great-Grandma Rose...they don't measure! They randomly throw in handfuls of sugar, or dump the sprite straight into the bowl until it looks right. I almost exploded from nerves several times...but I have always wanted to be that vision of a mad chef, throwing handfuls of ingredients at random into a pot and making a masterpiece...so maybe this is just the first step!

I think the lack of measurement in cooking is a metaphor for the Chilean lifestyle...it is unexacting and impulsive, there are no rules or plans to follow, but in the end, everything is super rico!

The gringos go underground...

So, I have gotten a little behind in my story-telling. Apologies, apologies!

On Thursday, September 11, some of the gringos and I met up in Concepcion. We had a meeting there on Friday morning, and I suggested we meet Thursday night and do what gringos do best...party! We met up with my host brother at his university around 5 pm, where there was a pre-Fiestas Patrias (like Independence Day) Ramada (fair). We arrived to a field full of young, drunk Chileans milling around and dancing to music blasting from various speakers set around the field. The edges of the field were lined with stands selling snacks like choripan (pork sausage on French bread) and drinks like ponche (in this case, canned peaches soaked in white wine). A full cup of ponche was only 200 pesos...the equivalent of like forty cents! So you can imagine the scene...also, please always set three beautiful gringas (Sarah, Jen and myself) into the middle of a field of drunk Chileans. Everyone stared at us and screamed sometimes friendly ("I love you!"), sometimes not ("Fuck you motherfuckers!") greetings in our direction. Felipe took us to where a group of his friends were gathered, which was like flies on honey. All in all, entertaining, though, until the stands ran out of food and beverages and the groups of drunken partiers were forced to find other avenues to vent their energy--sometimes errupting into fights! We wandered around for awhile, and eventually ended up in downtown Conce, where we met up with our other gringo pals Steph, Lukas, Andrew Ullom, Megan, Delaney, and Stacey with her Chilean boyfriend Alejandro. We drank many beers and ate some pizza, and then hit a nearby pub to dance, where things got a little out of control. Notably, Felipe participated in a "sexy" dance contest with Sarah onstage! I love these sorts of reunions, that always get out of hand and leave a trail of hangovers the next day.

Felipe, Megan and I at the pub.

Lukas and I enjoy our drinks.
No! Stace spills her free drink, while Alejandro looks on.
The gringos dance.
The next day, we were treated by the Ministry to an educational and touristy day in the nearby town of Lota. We visited a beautiful park, and then toured the nearby carbon mine, defunct since 1997 and originally operating in the mid-1800s. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and it was relaxing to wander around the park at leisure, with the full knowledge that we could be teaching classes instead. The park was formerly grounds of the estate of the family that owned the mines.

Fishing vessels in the harbor at Lota.
Views of the park.
I was dismayed that there was no way to acutally get down on the beach!


An awesome greenhouse.
A view of the mine from the park. You can see the giant slag heap. The mine extends out into the ocean under the water.
Heading underground into the depths of the mine was quite an experience! We had to put on all sorts of gear before embarking, including a heavy battery pack around the waist that powered the lights on our hardhats. This led to an extended photo-op!

Lukas poses as pensive miner, I pose as happy miner.

The adventure begins!

Andrew Cook and Abby in the sketchy elevator that lowered us 40 meters underground. I hopped in after them.

As we waited for our large group to descend in groups of four, we took many more photos...like this one of Andrew, Ale, me and Stace in an appropriate sepia hue.

Our guide gets the tour under way, explaining that the name of the mine, Chiflon del Diablo, means "The Devil's Breath" after the explosions that blasted through the air tunnels, killing the miners.

Our guide shows us a bird cage used to house canaries, which would fall asleep in an early stage of death at the first sign of toxic gases, giving the miners more time to try to escape.
Our guide was a miner here for 20 years, and during the tour we learned a lot about the many hardships faced by the miners. First of all, the conditions in the mine were grueling. Many people (myself included before this tour) believe that mines are cold and dank, but I can now assure you that it is hot underground. As the guide led us around, we were stooped over for prettymuch the entirety of our 50-minute tour, and in the heat I began to drip sweat with the burden of traveling awkwardly in an uncomfortable environment. It was a good thing we had our hardhats, too, because almost everyone hit their head at least once (not fun with a hangover!). The miners were responsible for removing an incomprehensible amount of carbon, a task which could take between 12 to 16 hours. Once they had filled the requirement for the day, they could go home. The mine was essentially slave labor, as the miners were not even paid in real money, but in plastic chips that could only be redeemed at the mining company's stores on-site! After spending less than an hour in the mine, I couldn't believe our guide had spent 20 years working in a place like that, under the conditions that he described!

Our guide's grandfather had been a miner in this mine as well, and he started his work at the age of eight! The first few days of a youngster's shift were spent in utter darkness, to attune the children to the conditions of the mine. Once they could be alone in the dark without crying, they were allowed to work in light. It would take two to three days at times for them to stop crying, and as a demonstration our guide had us turn our headlamps off and pass a moment of silence in remembrance of the children and all the miners that died in the mine. Needless to say, it was pitch black and creepy, especially knowing people might have died right where we were standing.

The guide also showed us some drills, and some shredded paper the miners used for hygenic purposes. Apparently, they would use the paper three times: first, to wipe their faces, second, to wipe their noses, and third, to wipe their asses. Then, they would carefully tuck the used paper into the support beams above their heads, because if the paper fell, the rats would eat it and die. The miners had to protect the lives of the rats, who were the first to sense dangerous conditions, and in an influx of gases or an explosion the miners would follow the rats to safety. At one point in the tour, he pointed me and said something, and of course I wasn't paying attention, so I didn't really know what was going on, but apparently I was standing in the perfect mining stance (hunched over, legs slightly bent, hands on knees) because if you were to stand with your torso lower to the ground, the rats would bite you. Either way, it wasn't comfortable.

Umm, yeah, in general, mining seems like one of the worst jobs in the world, I probably wouldn't last an hour. I cannot imagine so many people worked at such tiring, dirty, and dangerous work, and risked their lives, only to be paid in plastic chips! But it did happen. Apparently it still happens in these kinds of conditions in the silver mines in Potosi, Bolivia.

Apparently, there is a Chilean film called Sub Terra that was filmed in this mine, dramatizing the plight of the miners. It won some awards in Chile or something. Someone watch it and tell me how it is!

Random Travels

In the last month or so, I have had the opportunity to take a few one- and two-day trips to various parts of Chile. Mostly, this was fueled by the need for alone time, as my home in Chillan was hosting three relatives for three weeks and the house was a little...crowded.

My first foray way a day trip back to Las Termas de Chillan with my friend Sarah in late August. This is the same place where the Chillan volunteers got to spend the day hiking, swimming, and zip-lining in the fall, although it looked quite different now that it was winter.

I wanted to have a relaxation day, because I had been working extra hours to train my debate team, and the Friday before our Saturday trip had brought our first competition, at which I got into a screaming match with my coteacher. My face had broken out from stress, and I was ready to be pampered and spend money like the American many people assume I am, so I invited Sarah to join me for a spa day at the Termas. We passed a lovely day, which started with a decadent breakfast of all different kinds of meats and cheeses, bread, fruit, scrambled eggs and bacon (a rarity in Chile). After gorging ourselves, we decided a walk would be best. I had romantic notions of strolling through the winter wonderland, but the snow was crusty and, while the day had dawned bright and clear, midmorning brought gray clouds our way. I was hoping it would at least snow, but no such luck.

The winter landscape.
My failed attempt at a snow angel in the crusty snow, which left my jeans uncomfortably damp.

Swinging in the snow!
After our stroll, Sarah and I went in for spa appointments, me for a facial and she for a massage. Then, we spent about two hours swimming and lounging in the thermally heated indoor/outdoor pool. The water was so warm that the interior pool was a foggy cloud of steam. There was a little waterway that led outdoors, but the novelty of swimming amidst the snowy landscape soon wore off, since it was pretty cold out there! Anyway, Sarah and I enjoyed our soak and the attendant heart-to-heart.

Sarah heads outside.
An inexplicably small photo of us swimming in the snow.
After our pool time, I waited in the bar with a beer while Sarah had another spa appointment. Then, the real adventure started.

In the morning, our bus from Chillan had dropped us off in front of the hotel. Ever since Megan and I got stranded in San Pedro de Atacama, I have been paranoid about bus travel, and never fully calm down until I am safely seated and roaring off toward my destination. As such, I was a little skeptical when the bus dropped us off on the dirt road in front of the hotel, and I asked the bus employee where and when we would be picked up in the afternoon. He told me at six o'clock, in front of the hotel, and I repeated the information to make sure there was no miscommunication. He confirmed, and Sarah and I went about our day.

However, at 5:45 we were standing out in front of the hotel waiting for the bus, and by 6:15, the bus had not come. I went inside to consult with the hotel employees, leaving Sarah outside to flag the bitch down in case it actually came, and they told me sometimes the bus leaves early! I almost had a heart attack, and at that moment any gains made in my day of relaxation were crushed. Moments like these remind me how little Chileans plan, and how difficult it is being an American and being used to relying on schedules. Sarah and I had already spent more money that day than was prudent, and could not afford to stay at the grandiose hotel. Moreover, we wanted to be back in Chillan to go out with our friends that night. After asking around, we discovered the next bus would be coming at midnight, which would put us back in Chillan at about 1:30 a.m.--not acceptable! After harassing a hotel employee that took pity on us, he arranged a ride back for us in the hotel van, which we were informed was for guests only, which kind of annoyed me since, although we were not staying in the hotel overnight, Sarah and I had spent plenty of money that day and I figured we deserved a free ride back to Chillan! However, we ended up paying the driver under the table, after waiting until 9:00 to leave for Chillan and spending even more money on dinner. By the time I got home, I was too tired and pissy to attempt a night out, so I just went to bed.

However, not all was lost in the madness. With every disaster, I learn more about how to survive on the road in South America. Had Megan and I not be stranded in San Pedro, I wouldn't even have known to ask where and when the bus would pick us up. Now that I know that traveling by bus is not very reliable, I will continue to take extra precautions in my travels. And there is something to be said for realizing that, even when your plans go to pieces, it is not the end of the world. Step by step, I am learning to surrender the illusion of control. And I must say, you know you can take care of yourself when things go tits up and you are able to rant and rave and explain the situation in Spanish and be understood and work out a solution. I find, too, that no matter where I am and what goes wrong, there is always a Chilean present who goes out of his way to help me put things right, a reassuring fact when I often feel isolated by my surroundings.

My next trip was a little bit more successful, though not without the usual unexpected aspects. On Saturday, September 6, I headed to Los Angeles, an hour and a half south of Chillan, to visit the other group of volunteers. It is a bit shameful that many have visited us in Chillan, but we have neglected to visit LA. I was curious to see how they were living and getting along, so I arranged to stay with Megan and her family for the night. I arrived at 8:30 and Megan and I shared breakfast at her house and spent some time gossiping and catching up. I had really missed her since we spent our two weeks on the road together in July, so it was comforting to have her by my side again.

Megan and I like to explore, and her host sister was kind enough to offer to drive us to the city of Angol, where there was a nearby park where we could hike. The day was beautiful, and though I had only gotten two hours of sleep the night before, I was ready to poke around the countryside. After a beautiful drive through verdant farmland and scattered cows, hens and roosters, we reached Angol and embarked upon a 33 kilometer drive up a dusty, potholed road with out sights set on the park. The highlight of the trip was the birds we spotted in the trees, which looked like brightly colored parrots from the Amazon. Unfortunately, I didn't snap any photos (sorry Mom!). We were about 27 km into the drive, which took something like 45 minutes, I would say, when we reached a bridge we needed to cross, only to find that it had partially collapsed and we could go no farther. The three of us emerged from the car and stared at the bridge for a full five minutes before getting back in and starting the long drive back to Angol. Oh well, foiled again! Some sort of notification at the beginning of the dirt road would have been nice, though.

Some views of Angol I managed to snap on our descent.


When we returned to Los Angeles, Megan and I walked over to our friend Abby's house, and I instantly fell in love with her family. She has a full and busy house, complete with a very noisy host dad, a precious 9-year-old brother, and two turtles that walk around the house. The boy turtle tried to attack me by crawling toward me with his mouth snapping, but the girl turtle let me poke her on the head. I wanted to hang out in Abby's house forever, and especially play with her little brother, since the kids in my Chilean family are so damn hyper they exhaust me after five minutes, but this boy seemed so sweet and fun! However, instead we walked to the mall and met up with Lukas, and spent the rest of the evening eating and drinking and catching up! It was really good to see the other volunteers...they are so close but we spend so little time together. I hope to see more of them in the short time we all have left here.

The following Monday after work, I hopped another bus to Temuco, a city three hours south. Due to a test that was being administered at my school (equivalent to the PSAT, more or less), I had Tuesday and Wednesday free, and I had been wanting to check out Temuco. Temuco is not a tourist destination, generally, and I spent most of my two days there walking around the city. There are many universities there, and I enjoyed walking along or sitting in cafes and watching all the interesting people go by. My friend Ruby, the Chinese teacher at my school, joined me for one of the days, and we spent several hours wandering around the artisan market, which sold a lot of Mapuche crafts, which I am obsessed with. The weather was very pleasant the first day, but that night it poured, so I stayed in the hospedaje in my single room, read for hours, and went to bed early. Wednesday morning I awoke early and hiked to the top of a hill called Cerro Ñielol to get views of the city. It was an excellent way to start the day, although the trail was muddy and I had to take care not to slip.

View of Temuco from the top of Cerro Ñielol.

Walking through the forest.
Temuco's cemetery, as seen from my hike.
All in all, it was a pefect little trip of exploration and solitude. I love getting out for a few days on my own, although I am getting to the point that every time I travel, I start thinking about how I am missing time with my family. I will be leaving them in two short months, and our time is precious. But I am not going to think about that now.