a sloppy quilt of the past three months, and beginnings of August
backtracking
Looking back, may was full of essay writing, nothing too adventuresome until the very last few days of the month. The adventure that did occur at the end of the month would be the story of my short experience in Chiloe, an island off the southern coast of Chile that I was eager to visit because every Chilean talks about it with a big smile on their face. With luck, my internship with ANAMURI has allowed me to do some traveling and one fine week I was informed (after expressing a strong desire to go) that I would be heading fourteen hours south to help out with some workshops that were focused around two powerpoints, one of which I had spent about a month working on. These workshops are part of a larger series being conducted by ANAMURI for women in various communities, to divulge information about UN conventions which have worked to protect and fight for international women´s rights in the past 50 years or so, and emphasize the implications of these international agreements on the daily lives of these women(examples are CEDAW-Convention on the Elimination of all forms of Discrimination Against Women, Beijing Conference- for greater equality and opportunity for women, as well as Convenio 169, which was created by la Oficina International de Trabajo and ratified in 2006, in Chile that protects and regulates the rights of the indigenous Mapuche population).
So getting back to the trip. After an overnight bus ride to Puerto Montt (the port city from which a ferry transports you to the island) the bus eventually boarded the ferry and about two hours later I arrived in Ancud, my destination and the location of the first workshop. I was welcomed warmly to the city at the bus station by Elizabeth, an ANAMURI associate I had previously met during her visit to the office in Santiago. The powerpoints were presented and then the women were broken off into groups and asked to answer a few questions about the problems in their community and how they can apply the knowledge shared during the presentation to improve them, then present their reflections to everyone. The point of this is to inspire and empower the women to better their working and living conditions by learning about the laws that protect them and the organizations (such as ANAMURI) that exist to support them. Each woman was given a big glossy red folder filled with copies of all the information that was shared with them during the day, lunch was served and the workshop ended in the late afternoon. The next day I headed back to Puerto Montt with two of the women that were leading the workshops (I was just helping out with anything needed and observing), we took a 20 minute bus ride away from the water and were somehow in the countryside. We held the second workshop in what seemed like a community building. The groups of women in each location were distinct; the first being predominantly indigenous in composition and the second being women from rural areas. Apparently this was a surprise to the women presenting the workshop and the focus was shifted slightly to accomodate the group, nevertheless the same powerpoints were presented.
My lunch that day was made up of pure papas, some potatoes mashed with butter and mixed with red peppers (my idea) and more simply whole, baked. Being vegetarian in the city doesn´t imply eating a carb filled diet because I can cook for myself, but it´s difficult on the road. Although I did have to survive a large quantity of white bread, an entire meal with no protein or vegetable only ocurred this once, plus the south is known for its rich selection of potatoes which made it more of a taste testing than anything.
Anyway, my plan was to travel around Chiloe once the workshops were completed with Rocio,a journalist who works with ANAMURI and was one of the leaders of the workshops. She´s in her late twenties but at this point I feel like most people in their twenties are around my age (unless they have a kid, that changes things...sometimes), I had met her a few times in the office and we got along well. Although we had just left the island, Rocio and I turned right back around, grabbed the ferry and took a bus to Castro, the other main city on Chiloe. We stayed there for the next day and a half and walked around in the cold, exploring the hilly, green landscape. A short walk from the main plaza took us to the waterfront again where we could see the well known and colorful collection of palofitos (houses that stand on stilts on the water, along the coast) decorating the small inlet to our right. After our short journey we headed back towards the city and stopped at the artesan market, which is a large market where the local artesans sell their work (which is mostly clothing made out of wool, Chiloe is known for its wool). This is where I found a small little hat to warm my frozen head, and conversed with the man who sold it to me about the different plants that were used to dye the wool (like onion, native trees..). Unfortunately I had to return to the city for class and so my adventure on Chiloe ended the next day as I headed back to Santiago with Rocio, my new hat, a better undersanding of the work that ANAMURI does, and a desire to return to the charming island on a warmer occasion.
pololeando
The month of June began with a trip to a tiny blue house by the beach for a weekend to celebrate Manu´s birthday with Katrina Pennington and Arturo (all of whom I talked about in the previous entry). Manu and I started dating, who knows when officially, at some point in May. That´s big news that I prefer to awkwardly slip into conversations rather than advertise, although now it´s published. I´ve gotten more used to saying I have a pololo, rather than a boyfriend, because in Chilean Spanish the verb ¨pololear¨ means to date, boyfriend is ¨pololo¨ and girlfriend is ¨polola.¨ This term comes from Mapudungun (the language of the Mapuche) and makes reference to a fly attracted to the light or food. What I´ve noticed from day 1 here is that Chileans traipse the country, city, everywhere really, in pairs, with their significant others. Dating seems to be more than common than in the states, and in fact people seem to be surprised if someone doesn´t have a pololo or polola, so maybe I´m just following suit and attempting to blend in (not really).
since pictures are usually the first demand shortly after sharing the news, here are a few shots from a mini foto shoot taken during our adventure north (explained below)
cactus man
everyone says he looks like a Chilean version ofJohn Lennon
the dogs that live at his sister´s house accompanied us on a walk, Lilly and Millie
viajando
Months after my excursion to Chiloe, I finished my first semester at the beginning of July and embarked on a two week trip that took me about seven hours north of Santiago. The overwhelming majority of students from my program came for six months and therefore left at the beginning of July, many of them squeezing in travel time at the end to take in their last few weeks in South America. One of the girls from my program, Cory, and I decided to travel north in an attempt to escape the cold cold city and with hopes of seeing penguins! oh yes, penguins, penguins populate a few islands off the coast of Chile (and Argentina too). I never expected to meet a penguin but always felt an unexplainable bond with them from afar (possibly due to the fact that as a toddler I walked more like a penguin than a child, because of my pidgeon toedness).
Well, we made it to La Serena (the bulk of the trip, a 7 hour bus ride from Santiago), one large step closer to our black and white friends. We spent a few days there, devising the best plan to get to the island of our desires without handing over all of our money to become part of a group of tourists. Apparently I have grown to loath tourism, it´s just not the experience I want to have here and I try my best to stay away from those types of activities when possible (while understanding I´m still an extranjera, a foreigner, and not Chilean). After a night of planning and phone calls (which I am proud to say we handled on our own, and all in spanish of course) we packed our lunches and day bags in the morning, ready for our nine o´clock bus that would take us to the dock. Seconds after we stepped outside of our hostel, a fifteen person van, clearly the same as it was in the 70´s, swiftly flew down our street and let out a bird like honk. Instead of clearly stopping, the driver pulled a california roll and we hurried to hop on board. After a few hours of driving and dropping off our driver´s cargo at a daycare, a small mountain of avocado, tomato and bread, we made it to Punta de Choros. Step two: make it to the port, check. We were lucky to get off the bus with a group of five other people (one Spaniard, one German, one Swiss, two Chileans) who wanted to make it to the island as well. Once there as a group we agreed to take a tour of the island (s, there are actually three different islands) with one of the local fisherman on his small boat. The perks to our methodology: we paid a small fraction of what we would have with an organized tour, we did get to see the islands including the penguins (Humbolt penguins). The downside: we did not actually get off the boat and therefore did not get very close to the penguins, after leaving us waiting for a few hours, our tour guide returned to find the coast guard telling him he did not have sufficient documentation to take us out on his boat. Still, we did eventually leave the dock and were both pleased with the excursion.
From La Serena we headed to Vicuña, part of a large valley called Valle de Elquí which is known for its vineyards and wondrous mountains, also known for its tourist star observatories. Both of us had been feeling slightly sick (with cold symptoms and minor stomach problems) yet we indulged in artesanal ice cream, I had fig and manjar. Next I did a quick switch in travel partners, Cory needed to get back to Santiago and Manu came to travel with me up to see his sister and brother in law. They´re artesans who live in a small but homey wood cabin in an area called Cochiguaz, nearly on the top of mountain, and sell their handmade jewelry (macramé, other styles using metal and wood). Where they live is an oasis of mountain sides full of cactus and collections of stones that add their color to the desert landscape. Although I didn´t manage to find any, I was told that the area is full of quartz. There is a lot of mysticism surrounding the location, people say there is something magical or holy about it and there are meditation centers sprinkled along the main winding dirt road. Everyday I spent there was full of collectively cooked vegetarian meals and tea made with herbs freshly picked from a hillside garden. It was the ideal getaway and necessary time away from the noise, pollution, stress, and filth that interferes with relaxation in the city. Although an odd bout of homesickness took over towards the end of the trip and I found myself literally dreaming of bagels (which don´t exist here), my two week trip was a good break before beginning my second semester.
Cochiguaz
vineyards in Vicuña
Punta de Choro
stormy view from the bus
horses I wanted to rescue on the beach in La Serena, a manwas renting them out for beach rides
a house Gabriela Mistral briefly lived in, now preserved as a historicmonument
the main plaza in La Serena
fellow extranjera and travel buddy Cory modeled for me
goodies sold on the bus, all filled with manjar
that´s the man who sold above pictured sweets, by chance Icaught his reflection
an example of the buses that travel the country
August
The weather. The weather has been confusing in Santiago, to say the least. Every morning when I wake up I immediately know what kind of day it will be due to the poor insulation the window above my bed provides, ...but until then it´s a surprise! The exception to this statement occasionally ocurrs when my hair proves its worth as a barometer and decides to greet the air surrounding it instead of my head, forming some good old fashioned curl frizzzz. While all you southern California dwellers have been basking in the sun, which we all know never actually left the west coast, and running around nearly unclothed, I have been acclimating myself to a semi-cooler climate in Santiago. To be honest, it´s not thaaat cold and miserable. The snow stays on the mountains and doesn´t dare enter the valley that is the city, just like LA, and the rain clouds devour the blue sky for one or two days every few weeks, and then retreat to let the sun warm my frozen toes for a day or two. Maybe it´s typically twenty or thirty degrees cooler here than it would be at home, LA or SD. But still, I typically wear more layers than I´ve ever put on in my life and hesitate to leave my apartment without boots, my peacoat, the only winter scarf I brought (which is more than sufficient and was hand crocheted with love by the g-ma) and my new itchy wool hat from Chiloe. Even while just studying or hanging around in my apartment the layers stay on because indoor heating is a little different here, and by that I mean indoor heating as we´re used to doesn´t exist in most places. The most common indoor heating comes from these robot sized contraptions called ¨estufas¨ which are small portable gas run heaters that magically appear in most homes for the winter time. In my apartment we have one that now resides in our living room, which means my bedroom is still subject to the conditions outside. Suffice it to say, the most commonly uttered frase when walking inside a room before greeting everyone with a kiss has become ¨que frío.¨ Luckily, we´re more than half way through winter and spring will be here before I turn ghostly pale (I hope).
la guitarra
Right before I left for my vacation, I brought home my new guitar. Once I got here in January, I had a realization that guitar should be part of my life. Maybe it´s because I felt like something was missing because I typically spend time with friends who practice their skills on the strings of the shapely wooden box in spaces such as the food co-op. Without my relaxation time on the filthy flower patterned couch that tends to attract those who dabble on guitar, I got the DIY urge to start making my own music (ya know, do it yourself). So, months and months after spotting a hole in the wall string instrument store, I purchased and just recently brought home my newly varnished dark brown friend. Don Santiago, the man who owns the store and makes all the instruments by hand, embellished mine with the word Santiago (where the name of the maker is usually written). What I like about it is that he wrote it as his own signature, but for me it will be a momento of my time here in Chile, in the city of Santiago.
reflections and lessons: bread, buses, hospitality
Six months into my life here, I can tell you that you that in every part of the country to which I have traveled I have found three things. These are obvious parts of everyday life which I immediately noted in Santiago, but now know that they characterize the culture of the whole country rather than simply the city.
Number one: bread. Bread is breakfast, bread can be a part of lunch, and bread is a late dinner with tea. Everyone eats it, everyone. Bread is basically equivalent to life in Chile. After countless discussions with Americans and Chileans, we have concluded that there is a specific hunger for Chileans that can only be satisfied by bread in the same way that we (americans, californians, or maybe just people like me and Katrina Pennington) have a thirst that can only be satisfied by water. Of course, I cook for myself and therefore keep my bread consumption to its usual low to avoid feeling grossly stuffed with dough, but while traveling it was difficult to avoid. To be more specific, there are two types of white bread rolls that can be found in nearly any corner of Chile: 1. hallulla- a round, flat, extremely dense bread (because they make it with lard) with circular indentations on the top half 2. maraqueta- a small french roll.
Number 2: buses. Cars are not nearly as common as in California (which makes me happy), and although vehicles do fill the streets of the city most people use the metro or buses. Buses are the primary transport across the country from what I have seen, whether they be local or for longer distance traveling. Some are more efficient than others, some are ancient and dirty while others are brand new, but they run nearly everywhere.
Number 3: hospitality. It´s not good enough to say that in general the Chilean population is nice, or welcoming even. It´s more than that, and I have decided it´s not only because half the time I probably look like a sad, lost and confused foreigner. Everywhere I turn, I find that people are hospitable, they are more than simply willing to help out, they want to and will go out of their way to answer a question or make sure you know where you´re going. Our concept of untrustworthy stranger does not exactly translate. It´s not that every single person can be trusted, but people say that once you get out of the city you can trust people to give you a ride or provide you with a bed in their home (called hospedaje) for a more than reasonable price.
school
My second and final semester here has begun. School starts at different times depending on each department´s calendar within the university, but the departments of humanities and filosophy and social science, where I will be taking classes, started Monday August 2nd. The night before my first day the cookie monster inside of me was craving oatmeal raisin cookies, so I baked a batch of vegan oatmeal raisin walnut cookies to start the semester out on the right foot. I am currently in the process of eliminating classes and creating my desired schedule that will ultimately include three classes, my internship, and at least one recreation or dance class.
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario