Last night was a pretty good night out in Chile overall. However, there was clearly one high and one low point, each punctuated by the Chilean women who caused them.
The first high point was this very cool girl AF and I met in the bathroom at this smokey bar. It's become my habit to start talking to the Chilean girls in the bathroom, mostly about whatever Chilean man we're having questions regarding at the time. So far, we've done this 5 times, and each time it's been amazing. Usually, speaking English in public gets people looking at you. Very infrequently do I have the guts to respond to the inquisitive stares, but the combination of a bit to drink, adrenaline of dancing, and a real need to know something breaks down the timidity very quickly. So we ask this girl, Marisol, how one would know if this guy RF has been bringing around is sketch, as he has brought a slew of sketch friends with him each time, but seems ok himself. Not only does she come hang out at our table to check out the situation and give her opinion, but she introduces us to her friends and tells us about some other cool places in the area that foreigners would probably never find. We definitely made plans to go out next weekend. SO chill. Do women like that even exist in the United States?
The second category, women who suck, is a group with which I am familiar in the US. We were finishing our night with a completo (very fancy hot dog) from a snack shop, and this random girl starts telling us how she hates gringas. We didn't even say anything to her, were already sitting down when she walked in, and were completely and totally minding our own business. We left quickly because we weren't enjoying her speech, and she followed us out the door shouting her hatred after us. Quite a sour note on which to end the night.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
Chilean Entertainment
Not having cable at home and hardly watching tv at school has limited my idiot box consumption to things I know I like: news, fake news, and Adult Swim. But televised entertainment is a very big deal here, and it is quickly invading my brain.
You see, I hate the buzz of a tv playing in a next room over. When you can only catch bits and pieces of dialogue and music, you recognize how shallow the entertainment actually is. The television in my host parents' room next door is constantly playing. Ugh. The good new is I've found a way to combat it! The bad news is it's by watching my own tv set...
I've very much grown to enjoy the Travel and Living channel, with cooking and eating and skydiving shows, and watching US sitcoms in English is a quick way to feel capable of understanding human communication again. I feel as though I'm gorging myself on the worst of both cultures- and unfortunately, loving it...
You see, I hate the buzz of a tv playing in a next room over. When you can only catch bits and pieces of dialogue and music, you recognize how shallow the entertainment actually is. The television in my host parents' room next door is constantly playing. Ugh. The good new is I've found a way to combat it! The bad news is it's by watching my own tv set...
I've very much grown to enjoy the Travel and Living channel, with cooking and eating and skydiving shows, and watching US sitcoms in English is a quick way to feel capable of understanding human communication again. I feel as though I'm gorging myself on the worst of both cultures- and unfortunately, loving it...
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Something I Would Totally Do
(The scene: Dancing on Floor 3 (of 5!) of El Huevo, a discoteca in downtown Valpo.)
Chilean guy: (Trying to be cool by using english) Dancing with you is funny.
Me: FUNNY?!?!?
Chilean guy: Si po, me gusta. (Yeah really, I like it.)
Me: Funny...?
Chilean guy: .....
Me:.... (Lightbulb) Ohhhhh, no no no... FUN, not funny!
Chilean guy: ¿Como, divertido?
Me: Si! Funny es como chistoso, fun es divertido.
Chilean guy: Ohhhhh....
Chilean guy: (Trying to be cool by using english) Dancing with you is funny.
Me: FUNNY?!?!?
Chilean guy: Si po, me gusta. (Yeah really, I like it.)
Me: Funny...?
Chilean guy: .....
Me:.... (Lightbulb) Ohhhhh, no no no... FUN, not funny!
Chilean guy: ¿Como, divertido?
Me: Si! Funny es como chistoso, fun es divertido.
Chilean guy: Ohhhhh....
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Friday, July 27, 2007
¿Me Gusta el popo? No po!
To add to the list of things that scare me: Chilean police.
I know, right? Probably the least corrupt law enforcement in this hemisphere, and certainly the most trustworthy faces on the streets here. But I can't even look at the faces because I'm too put off by the uniforms. Army green from head to toe, funny hats with oversized foreheads, huge biker jackets (also of army green) and serious weapons. I know police in the US carry guns, tasers, batons, etc, but it just looks more intimidating when the accompanying uniform could be of the Gestapo.
Hopefully I never do anything wrong here, or have anything wrong done to me. Obviously, but even more so because of them!
Thursday, July 26, 2007
The Bad
All this is harder than I thought. I go between feeling like an outsider because people are staring at me, and feeling like an outsider because I blend in but am all alone and no one notices me.
It's not that I'm not happy (and for goodness sake don't let my host mom believe otherwise!), it's just hard. And it's not that I expected it to be easy, just that I thought it would be more of an adventure. Instead, it's the daily exhaustion of thinking things twice in different languages, of being watched because I'm a woman, because I'm an American, because I'm young, and (sometimes) because I'm by myself, of hearing the buzz of human communication on the metro and not being able to pick out more than a few phrases. It's that daily grind, that longing to be accepted and to UNDERSTAND and to be understood that's got me feeling a little down.
It's not that I'm not happy (and for goodness sake don't let my host mom believe otherwise!), it's just hard. And it's not that I expected it to be easy, just that I thought it would be more of an adventure. Instead, it's the daily exhaustion of thinking things twice in different languages, of being watched because I'm a woman, because I'm an American, because I'm young, and (sometimes) because I'm by myself, of hearing the buzz of human communication on the metro and not being able to pick out more than a few phrases. It's that daily grind, that longing to be accepted and to UNDERSTAND and to be understood that's got me feeling a little down.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
The Good
Sometimes I forget how much weather can affect my mood. Today was a good reminder.
For all my grumps about cold and rain last night, today dawned absolutely clear and full of ocean sunshine. The metro to Valpo in the morning was warm and almost cheerful as the stoic chilean commuters watched the bright houses on the hills and the beautifully blue ocean and sky. After lunch, BC, RF, EM and I used our free hour to find a way to get to the beach. Roughly 6 minutes by foot from the ISA office, we found the boardwalk. The sun was warm enough to take off our jackets and we wandered and lazed around on the long pier, sunning ourselves like the sea lions on the nearby rocks.
The best part? I'm 80% sure we saw some penguins! They were small black birds with white belly stripes, and they swam and dove, surfacing far away and playing in the waves. When I told my brother, he said it's possible. Apparently, a weather system here has driven cold currents higher along the coast, taking with it the animals who enjoy it. For now, at least, I'm definitely considering it to have been my first penguin experience!
For all my grumps about cold and rain last night, today dawned absolutely clear and full of ocean sunshine. The metro to Valpo in the morning was warm and almost cheerful as the stoic chilean commuters watched the bright houses on the hills and the beautifully blue ocean and sky. After lunch, BC, RF, EM and I used our free hour to find a way to get to the beach. Roughly 6 minutes by foot from the ISA office, we found the boardwalk. The sun was warm enough to take off our jackets and we wandered and lazed around on the long pier, sunning ourselves like the sea lions on the nearby rocks.
The best part? I'm 80% sure we saw some penguins! They were small black birds with white belly stripes, and they swam and dove, surfacing far away and playing in the waves. When I told my brother, he said it's possible. Apparently, a weather system here has driven cold currents higher along the coast, taking with it the animals who enjoy it. For now, at least, I'm definitely considering it to have been my first penguin experience!
Monday, July 23, 2007
Hace MUCHISIMO FRIO
I don't think I've ever been so cold in my life. It's not that the weather is too horrible, 30-40s and rainy, it's simply that there is no place to escape from it.
For a country so modern, so comfortable, people here really aren't big fans of warmth. Certainly, heating one's home or office is expensive; sure, very few buildings have central heating systems; of course, it's better for the environment and economically sound to not waste energy. But to me, those are not reasons for leaving doors to buildings wide open in the middle of winter. Especially the one about conservation!
My bed has two huge comforters and I've been bundling up in as many layers as possible, even wearing my host mom's slippers! My friends AF and RF and I hung out in a supermarket cafe this afternoon, drinking hot cocoa and eating alfomjas (a cookie sandwich with dulce de leche in the middle, dipped in chocolate), and I had some tea in the afternoon and hot soup with dinner. Still, I feel like a freezer-burnt steak, with sections of flesh frozen off the bones. Que tragica!
(PS: I know I'll toughen up soon and get used to it, and I recognize that things are different here, not better or worse, just different. And colder. I just needed someone to feel sorry for me, who wasn't also adapting to the middle of winter from the middle of summer!)
For a country so modern, so comfortable, people here really aren't big fans of warmth. Certainly, heating one's home or office is expensive; sure, very few buildings have central heating systems; of course, it's better for the environment and economically sound to not waste energy. But to me, those are not reasons for leaving doors to buildings wide open in the middle of winter. Especially the one about conservation!
My bed has two huge comforters and I've been bundling up in as many layers as possible, even wearing my host mom's slippers! My friends AF and RF and I hung out in a supermarket cafe this afternoon, drinking hot cocoa and eating alfomjas (a cookie sandwich with dulce de leche in the middle, dipped in chocolate), and I had some tea in the afternoon and hot soup with dinner. Still, I feel like a freezer-burnt steak, with sections of flesh frozen off the bones. Que tragica!
(PS: I know I'll toughen up soon and get used to it, and I recognize that things are different here, not better or worse, just different. And colder. I just needed someone to feel sorry for me, who wasn't also adapting to the middle of winter from the middle of summer!)
Sunday, July 22, 2007
My Dream House
Some girls are taught to imagine their wedding to help them sleep at night. For me, I would imagine my dream house. I never thought it would be possible- the bright walls, spiral staircases, and hidden passages- but yesterday, I visited it.
Pablo Neruda had three homes, each of which different and very special to him. The house we visited in Santiago was his primary home for most of his life, though not his favorite of the three.
It´s built on a hill, which is crucial to its design. There is a "river" running throughout, with built waterfalls, fountains, and other designs. The house is not a single building, but three increasingly private sections connected by outdoor stone staircases, twisting through gardens and past patios with ornate mosaic floors. The three sections together are themed of the ocean: the base as a ship, the second as a lighthouse, and the third like a lookout tower.
The lowest section was primarily for entertaining. Upon entering, guests would find a captain´s bar, with old bottles and retro bar stools for decoration. Next is a long room with a huge table, set with bright dishes and red glasses. Neruda was known to say that red wine tastes better in red glass, something I plan to test while I´m here. The cabinets at the end of the room serve dual purpose: a place to store his expansive collection of china from around the world, and a secret entrance to the "special" entertaining section. Through the door in the cabinet is a kitchen with sunshine walls and more decorative bottles. A spiral staircase leads to a open bedroom with lanterns for lighting and the initials "P" and "M" for his lover in the window. From here, a set of outdoor stairs lead up to the more private second section, where intimate friends would visit.
This section was dark inside, but with a wall of windows to take in the sun and view of the city. A central column made of a tree trunk is surrounded by animal rugs, 1950´s furnishings, and beautiful paintings made by Neruda´s artist friends. One particularly interesting is a portrait of his lady, a profile attached to a view of her face, with Neruda´s profile in her curly red hair to represent their secret and scandelous relationship. Their primary bedroom is upstairs in this section as well, very romantic in all of its oddities.
The final section is where Neruda would write, and several of his original drafts are displayed in the area next to the awards he had won over time. A wide, dark desk with model ships and a mold of one of his lover´s hands (to inspire him!) sits next to thick armchairs and benches where other poets would collaborate. This, his study and library, with a view of the city and the garden, was a sanctuary for him. The second room in this section is a reading room, with orate and kitcsh tables displaying collection upon collection of glass and shells and stones and pin-up art and everything else one can collect. The floor in this room is deliberated slanted, because Neruda felt that a person should always be in motion, like a ship at sea. A beautiful concept, and a beautiful home for a man who needed personality in his home to feel at home in his person.
Pablo Neruda had three homes, each of which different and very special to him. The house we visited in Santiago was his primary home for most of his life, though not his favorite of the three.
It´s built on a hill, which is crucial to its design. There is a "river" running throughout, with built waterfalls, fountains, and other designs. The house is not a single building, but three increasingly private sections connected by outdoor stone staircases, twisting through gardens and past patios with ornate mosaic floors. The three sections together are themed of the ocean: the base as a ship, the second as a lighthouse, and the third like a lookout tower.
The lowest section was primarily for entertaining. Upon entering, guests would find a captain´s bar, with old bottles and retro bar stools for decoration. Next is a long room with a huge table, set with bright dishes and red glasses. Neruda was known to say that red wine tastes better in red glass, something I plan to test while I´m here. The cabinets at the end of the room serve dual purpose: a place to store his expansive collection of china from around the world, and a secret entrance to the "special" entertaining section. Through the door in the cabinet is a kitchen with sunshine walls and more decorative bottles. A spiral staircase leads to a open bedroom with lanterns for lighting and the initials "P" and "M" for his lover in the window. From here, a set of outdoor stairs lead up to the more private second section, where intimate friends would visit.
This section was dark inside, but with a wall of windows to take in the sun and view of the city. A central column made of a tree trunk is surrounded by animal rugs, 1950´s furnishings, and beautiful paintings made by Neruda´s artist friends. One particularly interesting is a portrait of his lady, a profile attached to a view of her face, with Neruda´s profile in her curly red hair to represent their secret and scandelous relationship. Their primary bedroom is upstairs in this section as well, very romantic in all of its oddities.
The final section is where Neruda would write, and several of his original drafts are displayed in the area next to the awards he had won over time. A wide, dark desk with model ships and a mold of one of his lover´s hands (to inspire him!) sits next to thick armchairs and benches where other poets would collaborate. This, his study and library, with a view of the city and the garden, was a sanctuary for him. The second room in this section is a reading room, with orate and kitcsh tables displaying collection upon collection of glass and shells and stones and pin-up art and everything else one can collect. The floor in this room is deliberated slanted, because Neruda felt that a person should always be in motion, like a ship at sea. A beautiful concept, and a beautiful home for a man who needed personality in his home to feel at home in his person.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
So far...
...totally awesome.
We spent the first day at this great big park with a ferrocaril, which is a scary rollar-coaster-like elevator-trolley that you use to go up insanely tall hills and an ancient telofonico (gondola) that rattled and rocked around a lot. I finished the looong day with a couple pisco sours in this awesome Irish pub. Chile was playing Argentina in the World Cup semifinal, and though they lost, sharing the experience with a bunch of drunk men in business suits pounding on the table and screaming curses at the screen was pretty cool.
Yesterday, we did the tourist thing again at the Presidential Palace changing of the guards, La Plaza de Armas with an amazing cathedral and the central post office, and a sweet fish market/restaurant with greasy whole-friedly delicious fish. Good thing I'm not too vegitarian anymore...
For the evening, we explored el supermercado for some dinner, including this strange soft cheese like cream cheese and tofu mixed together. Then dancing, in this dark, smokey, sketch club that was fun for all of its creepiness.
We started today with a tour of Chile's oldest vineyard. Pretty cool to be sampling wine at 10 am! They make this special wine, Gris (gray), which is a dark grape prepared like a white wine. It's not as thick as red wine, and a bit less acidic than white. Delicious, but only sold in Chile and Peru. After lunch at this sweet arabic restaurant, we visited one of Pablo Neruda's three houses. More on this later, because it deserves a post of its own. We just finished up another 4 hour orientation session, which is significantly less fun than the tourist thing... but now a crowd of us are going out for empanadas, which should make it all better.
I miss you all and promise less "daily agenda" in future posts- I'm just too excited by everything we're doing to skimp details just yet.
We spent the first day at this great big park with a ferrocaril, which is a scary rollar-coaster-like elevator-trolley that you use to go up insanely tall hills and an ancient telofonico (gondola) that rattled and rocked around a lot. I finished the looong day with a couple pisco sours in this awesome Irish pub. Chile was playing Argentina in the World Cup semifinal, and though they lost, sharing the experience with a bunch of drunk men in business suits pounding on the table and screaming curses at the screen was pretty cool.
Yesterday, we did the tourist thing again at the Presidential Palace changing of the guards, La Plaza de Armas with an amazing cathedral and the central post office, and a sweet fish market/restaurant with greasy whole-friedly delicious fish. Good thing I'm not too vegitarian anymore...
For the evening, we explored el supermercado for some dinner, including this strange soft cheese like cream cheese and tofu mixed together. Then dancing, in this dark, smokey, sketch club that was fun for all of its creepiness.
We started today with a tour of Chile's oldest vineyard. Pretty cool to be sampling wine at 10 am! They make this special wine, Gris (gray), which is a dark grape prepared like a white wine. It's not as thick as red wine, and a bit less acidic than white. Delicious, but only sold in Chile and Peru. After lunch at this sweet arabic restaurant, we visited one of Pablo Neruda's three houses. More on this later, because it deserves a post of its own. We just finished up another 4 hour orientation session, which is significantly less fun than the tourist thing... but now a crowd of us are going out for empanadas, which should make it all better.
I miss you all and promise less "daily agenda" in future posts- I'm just too excited by everything we're doing to skimp details just yet.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Leaving
MaryAnn Almeida
c/o ISA
Aveneda Brasil 2715
Valparaiso, Chile
My flight leaves in 5.6 hours. Goodbye, everyone. Thank you for your nice notes and phone messages recently and today. I will see y'all soon!
c/o ISA
Aveneda Brasil 2715
Valparaiso, Chile
My flight leaves in 5.6 hours. Goodbye, everyone. Thank you for your nice notes and phone messages recently and today. I will see y'all soon!
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Chile -2
In 53 hours I will get on a plane. I will fly to Chicago, then Houston, then Panama City, then Santiago, where I will wait 3 hours for a group of strangers to drive me to the hotel. I will meet some 20 students, nervous and excited like me, and do my best to speak in Spanish as we get comfortable with each other. Thus my adventure will begin...
I'm feeling very afraid right now, mostly from realizing how unprepared I really am. I know this feeling will pass as soon as I am there, because at that point there is no reason to worry about preparations that should have been made long ago. I will have jumped in, and I will be swimming. That tends to be the way I live my life: fret, take action, and figure it all out later. As for now, I'm tired of fretting- good thing the action part is coming quickly.
I'm feeling very afraid right now, mostly from realizing how unprepared I really am. I know this feeling will pass as soon as I am there, because at that point there is no reason to worry about preparations that should have been made long ago. I will have jumped in, and I will be swimming. That tends to be the way I live my life: fret, take action, and figure it all out later. As for now, I'm tired of fretting- good thing the action part is coming quickly.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Chile -7
Inside the final information packet from ISA was a very exciting bit of information: who and what is my host family.
The Ordenes live in Vina del Mar, which is basically the more-touristy suburb of Valparaiso. The dad (my dad??) is a publicist who mostly travels for business during the week and is around on weekends for the family. The mom stays home, keeping house and feeding the family. There are two sons, aged 17 and 24. AWESOME, because that means a ready-made connection to young Chilean social life. I'm actually really psyched to have host brothers near my age to talk to and learn from, and I've always wanted a big brother anyway. It also might be fun to be the mom's only "daughter." I'm hoping she'll teach me some Chilean recipes, go to the market with me, etc.
Knowing a bit more about my living situation has made me significantly more excited to go. The nervous energy has subsiding, replaced with this bubbling anticipation which I'm quite enjoying. I'm sure as this last week flies by, I'll grow more nervous again, but even that is alright because it won't last very long now!
The Ordenes live in Vina del Mar, which is basically the more-touristy suburb of Valparaiso. The dad (my dad??) is a publicist who mostly travels for business during the week and is around on weekends for the family. The mom stays home, keeping house and feeding the family. There are two sons, aged 17 and 24. AWESOME, because that means a ready-made connection to young Chilean social life. I'm actually really psyched to have host brothers near my age to talk to and learn from, and I've always wanted a big brother anyway. It also might be fun to be the mom's only "daughter." I'm hoping she'll teach me some Chilean recipes, go to the market with me, etc.
Knowing a bit more about my living situation has made me significantly more excited to go. The nervous energy has subsiding, replaced with this bubbling anticipation which I'm quite enjoying. I'm sure as this last week flies by, I'll grow more nervous again, but even that is alright because it won't last very long now!
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Official Business
I finally have my visa! After months of stressing about forms and rules and qualifications, the actual visa interview was amazingly casual. And/or sketch.
I spent the night previous to my interview in Seattle with my friend Shannon, and left early in the morning for a 10:30 appointment at the consulate. After the I-5 morning traffic and a scenic route through Olympia, I was feeling pretty good. All that changed as my mapquest directions ended at a condominium development. After freaking out for a few minutes, I called to confirm the address and get the phone number from my brother. The address was right: I was looking at the Chilean consulate inside an upscale gated residential community. I called, just to figure out what was going on, and received no answer.
At near panic, I paced the sidewalk in front of the gate. There was a car of confused-looking Latinos staring at the gates and street signs, which I took to be a good sign. Deep breath, enter the gate. The consulate itself was exactly like each of the other condos in the park: columned, white, with manicured lawns and flowerbeds... and a basketball hoop in the driveway. Very sketch. Even more sketch when I heard voices inside but had my doorbell rings ignored.
Eventually, a short man in khaki cargo shorts and a red tshirt opened the door, barked at me to take off my shoes, sit down, and wait. I was so nervous I was happy for any instruction. Twenty minutes of mob-sounding Spanish conversation from the upstairs later, Jorge Gilbert, the consulate official ran down the stairs, barked to me to follow, and ran back upstairs.
The actual interview was nothing. He corrected a few things on my form, had me cut down my passport-sized photos to fit the form in triplicate, and took my thumbprint. Then he stamped my visa into my passport, filling out the relevant details by hand. THEN he asked me for the documents I had so painstakingly gathered over the past two months. All that work, completely an afterthought. Argh.
Not complaining too much, however, since I'M LEGALLY READY TO GO!
I spent the night previous to my interview in Seattle with my friend Shannon, and left early in the morning for a 10:30 appointment at the consulate. After the I-5 morning traffic and a scenic route through Olympia, I was feeling pretty good. All that changed as my mapquest directions ended at a condominium development. After freaking out for a few minutes, I called to confirm the address and get the phone number from my brother. The address was right: I was looking at the Chilean consulate inside an upscale gated residential community. I called, just to figure out what was going on, and received no answer.
At near panic, I paced the sidewalk in front of the gate. There was a car of confused-looking Latinos staring at the gates and street signs, which I took to be a good sign. Deep breath, enter the gate. The consulate itself was exactly like each of the other condos in the park: columned, white, with manicured lawns and flowerbeds... and a basketball hoop in the driveway. Very sketch. Even more sketch when I heard voices inside but had my doorbell rings ignored.
Eventually, a short man in khaki cargo shorts and a red tshirt opened the door, barked at me to take off my shoes, sit down, and wait. I was so nervous I was happy for any instruction. Twenty minutes of mob-sounding Spanish conversation from the upstairs later, Jorge Gilbert, the consulate official ran down the stairs, barked to me to follow, and ran back upstairs.
The actual interview was nothing. He corrected a few things on my form, had me cut down my passport-sized photos to fit the form in triplicate, and took my thumbprint. Then he stamped my visa into my passport, filling out the relevant details by hand. THEN he asked me for the documents I had so painstakingly gathered over the past two months. All that work, completely an afterthought. Argh.
Not complaining too much, however, since I'M LEGALLY READY TO GO!
Friday, July 6, 2007
Poll Notes
An interesting poll from Pew Research casts light on the relationship between Venezuela and the United States in the eyes of Latin America. An article in the Santiago Times gives some good analysis on the opinions of Chileans as the battle for the affections of the western hemisphere continues.
According to this poll, Chileans hate Chavez the most and Bush the least of the 7 countries included in the survey. Only 14% of Chileans approve of Chavez, though this stacks up pretty evenly with the rest of the region. Brazil, Mexico, and Peru all rate Chavez under 20% popularity, and even politically-close Bolivia gives him 30% approval.
The low approval of Chavez is likely a result, in part, of his inflammatory rhetoric toward Chilean leadership. He has compared their congress to the oppression of the Pinochet coup, following a vote in which the congress condemned Venezuela for shutting down opposition media.
The Bush numbers, however, don't match up with the numbers from the rest of the region. Only 35% of Chileans disapprove of Bush, practically inverting his domestic approval ratings. Further, the rest of Latin America seems to agree with the domestic opinions: Argentina led with 72% disapproving, with the rest of the countries somewhere in between. One notable exception is Venezuela, where a full 56% actually approve of Bush, despite the anger of their leader.
According to this poll, Chileans hate Chavez the most and Bush the least of the 7 countries included in the survey. Only 14% of Chileans approve of Chavez, though this stacks up pretty evenly with the rest of the region. Brazil, Mexico, and Peru all rate Chavez under 20% popularity, and even politically-close Bolivia gives him 30% approval.
The low approval of Chavez is likely a result, in part, of his inflammatory rhetoric toward Chilean leadership. He has compared their congress to the oppression of the Pinochet coup, following a vote in which the congress condemned Venezuela for shutting down opposition media.
The Bush numbers, however, don't match up with the numbers from the rest of the region. Only 35% of Chileans disapprove of Bush, practically inverting his domestic approval ratings. Further, the rest of Latin America seems to agree with the domestic opinions: Argentina led with 72% disapproving, with the rest of the countries somewhere in between. One notable exception is Venezuela, where a full 56% actually approve of Bush, despite the anger of their leader.
Packing
I've officially moved my suitcase into my room and left it hungrily open on the floor. I figure if I pack bit by bit I won't be so likely to forget anything important. Unfortunately, I'm having a really hard time figuring out what is important. So far: 6 sweaters, 3 button-down shirts, 3 lighter long sleeve shirts, and my favorite black skirt.
I think I have a ways to go.
I think I have a ways to go.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Party like it's 1810!
We Americans love our Independence Day, with barbecues, fireworks, and Uncle Sam hats. But no matter how much fun I plan to have at the park tonight, I imagine that September in Chile will blow it out of the water.
In Chile, the independence day is more like independence month, as September is called Mes de la Patria. Historic independence is celebrated on September 18th (el Dieciocho, they call it, proper), the day on which the war for independence from Spain began in 1810. The celebrations center around the 18th and the 19th, Armed Forces Day, and the week of the 16-20th is thus the most important. During this time, most communities hold "fondas," huge gatherings in temporary halls (ramadas) traditionally made with thatched eucalyptus-branch roofs and sawdust floors. Here, indoor-outdoor parties are held each night for 5 days, with loads of food, rivers of drink, and crowds of Chileans dancing the cueca. This nightly rhythm is punctuated by daytime activities, like military showcase parades on the 19th, religious ceremonies, and kite-flying competitions.
An interesting side note: a leftover Pinochet-esque policy requires all homes to display the Chilean flag on September 18th and 19th. Public service announcements leading up to the date instruct citizens on the proper decorum for flag care and display, and homes who fail to follow the rules may face fines.
All said, Chileans know how to party for their country, and I'm looking forward to learning a thing or two myself.
In Chile, the independence day is more like independence month, as September is called Mes de la Patria. Historic independence is celebrated on September 18th (el Dieciocho, they call it, proper), the day on which the war for independence from Spain began in 1810. The celebrations center around the 18th and the 19th, Armed Forces Day, and the week of the 16-20th is thus the most important. During this time, most communities hold "fondas," huge gatherings in temporary halls (ramadas) traditionally made with thatched eucalyptus-branch roofs and sawdust floors. Here, indoor-outdoor parties are held each night for 5 days, with loads of food, rivers of drink, and crowds of Chileans dancing the cueca. This nightly rhythm is punctuated by daytime activities, like military showcase parades on the 19th, religious ceremonies, and kite-flying competitions.
An interesting side note: a leftover Pinochet-esque policy requires all homes to display the Chilean flag on September 18th and 19th. Public service announcements leading up to the date instruct citizens on the proper decorum for flag care and display, and homes who fail to follow the rules may face fines.
All said, Chileans know how to party for their country, and I'm looking forward to learning a thing or two myself.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Mystery in the Lack of Water
Anyone familiar with the Dishman Hills park in Spokane knows how tricky lakes can be: the little buggers in this particular area are all named in variations of "Lost Lake" due to their hit-or-miss existence. But these are the mud puddle kind of lakes. Lake in Chile was a full-blown, year-round, take-your-canoe-and-go-fishing kind of lake. Now, it is in the past tense.
A 12-acre lake in Patagonia mysteriously disappeared last month from the Bernardo O'Higgins National Park. Now, local scientists have a theory.
The glacial lake is normally fed by melting ice and snow pack throughout the year, sufficient to keep it full and 130 feet deep. The lake changes throughout the year, depending on seasonal temperatures, but is just a part of the natural rhythm of growth and retreat of the glaciers that feed it. Local scientists now believe that global warming is to blame: higher temperatures translate to more water, which built up pressure on a glacial dam that made up part of the lake wall. This, according to experts, lead to the breach of the dam through an existing crack in the ice, letting the water flow from the lake, to a nearby fjord, and then the ocean.
This seems to be just one other example (or harms story) of the snowballing impact of global warming on natural patterns. For Chilean environmentalists, it could be much more: a rally cry.
A 12-acre lake in Patagonia mysteriously disappeared last month from the Bernardo O'Higgins National Park. Now, local scientists have a theory.
The glacial lake is normally fed by melting ice and snow pack throughout the year, sufficient to keep it full and 130 feet deep. The lake changes throughout the year, depending on seasonal temperatures, but is just a part of the natural rhythm of growth and retreat of the glaciers that feed it. Local scientists now believe that global warming is to blame: higher temperatures translate to more water, which built up pressure on a glacial dam that made up part of the lake wall. This, according to experts, lead to the breach of the dam through an existing crack in the ice, letting the water flow from the lake, to a nearby fjord, and then the ocean.
This seems to be just one other example (or harms story) of the snowballing impact of global warming on natural patterns. For Chilean environmentalists, it could be much more: a rally cry.
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