"Pucha" in Chile means "darn." It is such a tame word, you can say it in front of your grandma, as our program director told us. I remember the first time I realized the brilliance of this word. It was the day a handful of us gringos visited the house of Pablo Neruda in Santiago and were trying to walk to the Providencia neighborhood to buy some clothes. We were walking along this sidewalk and it just ended on the side of a busy four-lane highway. In our American impatience we waited to cross the road, and at the last minute before we charged across we realized the two far lanes were moving in the opposite direction and we had to wait for another two minutes before making a run for it. At the moment of our realization, Tall Andrew said, "Pucha!" and Megan turned to me and said, "This is definitely a pucha moment."
My week has been filled with "pucha moments." Nothing to get too upset about, almost nothing worth an expletive, but definitely moments of frustration for me. First of all, I felt like my Spanish had been coming along pretty well, but this weekend, I hit some sort of wall. I spoke very little, and understood far less than I have been in most conversations. I realized that everyone has just been asking me the same questions over and over again, and that I have gotten really good at answering those questions, but if the conversation goes beyond the limits of my small vocabulary, I am immediately lost. I was most frustrated by this fact on Saturday, when Lito, his wife Marisa, their daughter Catalina, and Marisa's brother Pablo (veeery handsome!) came over for onces. They were all talking so fast and at the same time, and I had no idea what was being said. I would have been really cranky about it, except that Marisa took pity on me and would occasionally lean over and sum it all up using simple vocabulary. Pucha!
Second, this was supposed to be the week I started working with my classes, but due to circumstances beyond my control, I still have not been able to be alone with my students. Namely, my coteacher decided to give an exam this week, which took up more time than expected. Now she's away at training for the rest of the week, and we didn't work out the details of dividing the class before she left because all the arrangements were made last minute. In any case, I am a dejected teacher with no class to teach. I did get to work with a handful of students in a workshop yesterday. They are working on understanding a page out of these little books their teacher has given them. The pieces are about things like the history of music or science. I helped the girls understand the pieces by going word by word, helping them look up unknown terms, and acting things out so they understood the main idea. (Please note, I look quite foolish acting out ballet, a violin concert, and drawing pictures of a harp, but I hope in the end it makes my students more comfortable learning English and feeling foolish themselves.) I have been infinitely frustrated with my relationship with my coteacher, and for whatever reason, I find it difficult to work with her and get things done. To be fair, though, she can be very kind and generous to me in moments when I least expect it, and she is pretty overworked, so I can understand why there is so little time to plan. In general, Chilean teachers are not paid well and most put in 45 hours of teaching per week, not including planning time, which creates a state of madness and struggle for some, I think including my coteacher. However, sometimes I get the feeling that since I don't work the same hours, some of the teachers feel I don't really work that hard. Also, if I stick around in the teacher's lounge too long, they are always coming up to me with creative ways for me to use my "extra" time. Everyone wants me to take a class for them, and I feel like an asshole saying no, but I am also really clear about the fact that I am a volunteer, and am not getting paid in the same way they are. But still, I have to be really protective of my time! Another teacher came up and asked me if I would sing the Star Spangled Banner at an assembly, with him acompanying me on the piano. He seemed unruffled by my explanation that I don't sing well, as he kept saying, "It's not important!" over and over. Umm, sir, I think it will be important if I make an ass of myself butchering my country's national anthem in front of an auditorium of high school girls! Pucha!
It is starting to feel like fall in Chillan. The leaves are starting to change color and fall. The mornings are overcast, although it usually burns off by afternoon. However, it is freezing in the Liceo! My hands are icy if I am online for too long. Pucha!
My major pucha moment of the weekend concerns my cellular telephone. It likes to cut out in the middle of phone calls from home. In addition, I had a little episode on Sunday when my dad, and as I later discovered, my mom were both trying to call me. I would answer and only hear dead air. My temper flared up, and I seriously had to talk myself out of hurling my piece of crap cell phone at the wall. I shed a few angry tears (my first in Chile!) and finally my dad was able to get through. There is nothing like the feeling of knowing home is calling and not being able to talk. Seriously, I live for those calls. Pucha! (Actually, this was the one time "pucha" didn't quite cut it.)
I can tell Chile is starting to get to me in general, because I am pissy sometimes, and in general, the moodiness I am famous for in my family has returned. I try to shelter the people here from it as much as possible. I have found an area to jog. It's pretty cute, actually. Two streets near my house form an "L" and in the middle, there is a median that is landscaped into a park-like area. The pathway is sandy, too, which is much better for my joints, and presents far less possibilities for me to fall on my face in front of traffic as I run over the uneven concrete of the sidewalks. Also, I have been reading a lot, and btw, if anyone is interested in reading an interesting book, I would recommend The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende. Incidentally, she is the neice of Salvador Allende, a fact not lost on me as I read the book. Read it read it!
It is almost the weekend, and there is some big birthday festivities at my house on Saturday for my host brother Reuben, who is coming down from Santiago with his girlfriend and her kid to celebrate. My cousins and other brothers are all coming over, and I am kind of exited to see what a birthday celebration is like in Chile. Hopefully, the remainder of the pucha moments will be banished by food, music, and if I am lucky, some Spanish conversations I can actually understand!
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Saturday, April 19, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Vamos a la playa!
Some photos from my weekend at the beach; I will post my reflections soon, hopefully tomorrow!
My cousin´s daughter Stella, playing on the beach!
My cousin Andrew and Stella running from the waves.
Me and Stella in the wind.
Andrew and Stella at an asado at Ricardo and Pancha´s house (they are friends of Daniela and Andrew).
Uncle Paul, Ricardo, and Samuel (Daniela´s dad and an awesome tour guide!).
Cool buildings in downtown Valparaiso.
A gorgeous view of Valparaiso from the ascensor, which we went up in...it´s kind of like a wooden box on railroad tracks that goes up a steep hill. You sort of feel like you are going to die it it because it is so rickety. I managed to not take a picture of it, sorry!
More of the view, the small group of sky scrapers above the second ship from the left is where Vina del Mar starts.
Stella, Daniela and me outside our restaurant with a fake but cool shark.
Uncle Paul and me outside the restaurant, where I tasted my first Chilean sea bass (corvina), which was delicious (super rica!).
Sunset in Vina del Mar, so beautiful it almost hurt to stare at the sky.
Daniela´s parents Jimena and Samuel, who were so hospitable and gracious. I feel so lucky to know them!
My cousin´s daughter Stella, playing on the beach!
My cousin Andrew and Stella running from the waves.
Me and Stella in the wind.
Andrew and Stella at an asado at Ricardo and Pancha´s house (they are friends of Daniela and Andrew).
Uncle Paul, Ricardo, and Samuel (Daniela´s dad and an awesome tour guide!).
Cool buildings in downtown Valparaiso.
A gorgeous view of Valparaiso from the ascensor, which we went up in...it´s kind of like a wooden box on railroad tracks that goes up a steep hill. You sort of feel like you are going to die it it because it is so rickety. I managed to not take a picture of it, sorry!
More of the view, the small group of sky scrapers above the second ship from the left is where Vina del Mar starts.
Stella, Daniela and me outside our restaurant with a fake but cool shark.
Uncle Paul and me outside the restaurant, where I tasted my first Chilean sea bass (corvina), which was delicious (super rica!).
Sunset in Vina del Mar, so beautiful it almost hurt to stare at the sky.
Daniela´s parents Jimena and Samuel, who were so hospitable and gracious. I feel so lucky to know them!Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Los Gringos
These pictures are kind of low quality, I will post some better ones later. I just want to put some faces to some names! At the first hostel we stayed at, there was a sweet roof situation, and this is our last supper at our favorite place in Santiago (besides Jammin´Club). Steph and Andrew are in Chillan with me, the others are in Los Angeles, and Jason is not actually part of our program, although he practically is.
Steph, Lukas, Megan, Tall Andrew
Delaney, Jason, Andrew.
Steph, Lukas, Megan, Tall Andrew
Delaney, Jason, Andrew.Vistas of Chillan
The pedestrian street, where my favorite internet cafe and the only bar we have visited are located.
A view of the Plaza de Armas, which so far is the most beautiful place in Chillan that I know of.
Inside the Plaza de Armas.
Views of the Cathedral de Chillan from the Plaza de Armas. Supposedly every foot of the height of the cross represents a certain number of people that died in the 1939 earthquake. I do not know the exact figure.
Views of Chillan from the top floor of Liceo de Ninas.
A view of the Plaza de Armas, which so far is the most beautiful place in Chillan that I know of.
Inside the Plaza de Armas.
Views of the Cathedral de Chillan from the Plaza de Armas. Supposedly every foot of the height of the cross represents a certain number of people that died in the 1939 earthquake. I do not know the exact figure.
Views of Chillan from the top floor of Liceo de Ninas.
Liceo de Ninas
My classroom, after I spent almost three days cleaning it!
Liceo de Ninas...it is under construction right now.
Across the street from us is Liceo de Ninos, the boy´s secondary school. They hoot at the girls from their windows during our breaks.
Liceo de Ninas...it is under construction right now.
Across the street from us is Liceo de Ninos, the boy´s secondary school. They hoot at the girls from their windows during our breaks.
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