Language

The other night, while having friends over for dinner, we talked about life as non-native speakers in Chile and how sometimes you can come off sounding unnecessarily terse or shoot of an email that is unintentionally rude. This got me thinking about some of the language differences between English and Spanish that have continued to trip me up.

That there are two verbs to describe "to be" ser (permanent) and estar (temporary). Although it would seem clear cut which of these to use in a sentence, it's not always so plain. I'm sleepy? Clearly a good use of estar.  But to say "He's dead", a seemingly permanent state, you would actually use the estar verb, although I'm not sure why. In case he was just sleeping?

The verb "to know" is among those that have two categories. To know definitively, fundamentally saber and to know someone, be familiar with a place conocer. To me this is one of the strangest sentence constructions. In speaking with someone about travel, you might ask "do you know Pucon?" like it's a friend you may or may not have met a party. In response you could say "I don't know Puncon, but I'd like to someday." This, to me at least, sounds like Puncon's an awfully popular person who everyone would like to get to know, rather than a place.

Then there are then no distinction words, which are also confusing. There's no difference between "on" and "in." Or cracker and cookie. One day while packing a picnic, I asked to be directed to where the cracker/cookies might be and was shepherded off to the isle with thousands of cookies, none of which looked like they'd go well with goat cheese. But for some reason, there is a distinction made between the two types of cherries, blonde guinda and red cereza, but none made between peaches and nectarines. Both are duraznos but nectarines are "bald peaches" duraznos pelones.

Food can be tricky like this. It took me a good while relearning all the words for foods here since many have indigenous origins and aren't the same as the Mexican or Spanish from Spain that is taught in schools. Adiós elote,  aló choclo.

Then there are cultural differences that make writing a polite letter, email or speaking politely more difficult. How you say please is huge. It can sound demanding to use please, like someone in a position of power commanding someone to do something. By no means is "please" the magic word here. Instead it's all about intonation. To me, what sounds like baby talk.

Although I can read and understand people, these are the finesses in language I have yet to refine,  cultural differences in how people speak to one another, the subtleties. 

Lauren

Neighbors

Our apartment -- 27 stories high.

Our building is in the Recoleta neighborhood of town, near Patronato which is where a lot of Asian families are. Our proximity to so many places, Bellas Artes, La Vega, Patronato, where you can buy homemade tofu and Asian products, means our building is a strange mix of people. Many Koreans, people with tattoos, gay couples -- in other words people that you often don't see in Chile, which is kind of nice. A diverse blend of people.

Riding the elevator with your neighbors you get to know people's stories. There's the architect (often accompanied by a "foxy lady" in the words of Daniela) from the 24th floor who I sometimes do laundry alongside. The ex-economist/"vago" (his words, not mine) who lives on the 22nd floor and is the Chilean version of Woody Allen -- big glasses, same shaped face -- but with a deep gravelly voice. The Asian lady who's always out of it, sometimes wearing clothes still with the tags on them,  impatient for the elevator to get to her floor. Then there's the professional tanner who's always at the pool on the weekends promptly when the sun comes up and has a really unhealthy looking brown color and is always yelling at her boyfriend, making everyone else uncomfortable.

And the guy on our floor, the 15th stories up, who also likes to do laps in the pool and with whom I share stories about swimming, like where to shop for goggles. There's also the other guy on our floor who has the white cat that jumps onto other people's balconies and then gets put into the hallway until his owner gets home.

Being one of the very few white people in the building doesn't allow my any anonymity. No matter where I go, out for a run in crazy clothes, for a swim in the afternoon, out to work, I'm instantly recognized. The white girl. Unlike when you usually meet someone and kind of have to study their face to remember who they are, I stand out like a sore thumb in our building. "Hey! Lawden!" There's no need to remember my face, my skin tells people that it's the crazy girl on 15 who's going for her afternoon swim.

And being that I'm one of the few white people living in the building with another white person (Stephen) we're always mistaken for siblings. Stephen, Mexican/Italian, and I, German/Heinz 57, have almost no physical features in common. But we're both white and living in the same apartment. It must be how minorities in the U.S. feel when mistaken for relatives.

Either way, I do like the diversity of our building and all our crazy neighbors all the same, even if it means they think I'm related to every other white person in the building.

Lauren

The story of Osa

Among the street dogs we see and meet, there are a few of our favorites. Daniela and Stephen seem to have taken a liking to Clinton (named after Clinton Kelly for the fancy vests he wears), and the two tough dogs in the park they've named the Petes. There's also Laz formerly No Name, a small white dog who they didn't give a name. After a scare that he may be a dead dog we saw, Daniela and Stephen renamed him Laz (for Lazarus).

I've got my own favorites. Calcetines, a large red terrier who lives near the library/cafe in Provedencia. Mellow Yellow, a tail-less golden something that I'm sure is Theodora's father.

And then there's Osa. Osa is a small timid black dog that lived in front of our building. Very sweet, she was always afraid of people and other dogs. She would cower and shrink away while other dogs, even ones with owners, would eat her food. Little by little she started coming out of her shell, although she would still cower if she saw another dog. Not too long ago we found this note taped to the spot outside our building where Osa would sleep. It says "Encontré casita :)". Someone had given her a home and
left a note for the neighbors that looked after her.


There's actually a small community of people who look after the dogs who live in the park. 
They live in the apartments alongside the park (usually a little more wealthy, older crowd) 
and feed the dogs, build them small houses, give them tags and collars so the dog catchers 
don't take them away, and even take them to the vet for necessary operations (if they get 
hit by a car or something).

Regardless, Osa is no longer part of this crowd and now has a home which was happy news.


Lauren

Produce

It's summer time in Chile, which means everything is in season right now. Beautiful squash, white beans, berries, blackberries, strawberries, five kilo watermelons, everything. The farmer's market right now (which we live across the street from) is booming with the most gorgeous food.

Yesterday Stephen (my roommate/friend) and I were at the farmer's market two hours. The green beans looked so good and (and so cheap -- $.70 a kilo!) we bought two kilos. And today for a picnic I picked up a half kilo of strawberries and blackberries for about $.80. I swear, this sounds so cheesy, but you can taste the sunshine in the produce here. It's just so good.

Below are some pictures of fruits and vegetables from La Vega (to be posted about later).

Lauren

 The enterence.

 A stall at the mini Vega filled with all kinds of fruits and vegetables.

 This pumpkin is probably twice the size of a pumpkin in the U.S. You can buy a slice for about $.60 and it'll last forever. The summer stew that's very popular right now, porotos granados, calls for squash, green beans, white beans, corn, and tomato. So delicious.

So much watermelon right now! They're at almost every stall.

Anniversary!

So today marks my one-year anniversary with the country of Chile! This time last year I set foot on the soil of Chile for the first time. I thought about this preparing the magazine's anniversary issue for February (which I'm very excited about!).

Below I've posted a few pictures, just a few of many highlights of this past year, from the most memorable, exciting, exhausting, scary moments of life in Santiago.

Lauren

Our first visit to the south.

 Working with MERCY Malaysia in the south of Chile after the earthquake.

Constitucion

The annual day of 1,000 cuecas

A day without a car exhibit at the Bellas Artes muesum.

... and demonstration outside that preceded the exhibit.

casa

Light show projected on Palacio La Moneda for the bicentennial.

At a football match against Uruguay -- what we thought would be Bielsa's last game.

Preunic

These pictures definitely do not capture the craziness that lies within this place.

So I'm told this is the cheapest place to buy beauty products in Santiago, and the first time I visited this place it was absolutely madness. 

There are two counters behind which are the majority of  products that are sold in the store -- or at least the small, easy to steal products. In order to get something here, you have to go to a counter, get the attention of a very busy salesperson, who then gives you a receipt. Not the receipt showing you paid for the product, but a preliminary receipt before you actually go pay. 

Then you wait in line and pay, choosing to either pay in full for your products or in cuotas, incrementally. I never understood what this meant, so when someone asked how many cuotas I wanted to pay in I was confused. This term was new. I just wanted to pay, take my things and leave. After paying you take your final receipt back to the counter where another very busy bagging person hands you your purchase. 

If you want things from both counters, sunscreen and shampoo say, you have to get two preliminary receipts, pay (thankfully at the same time) then give your receipts to two bagging people. 

This whole process can be exhausting. Forget examining or thinking about price vs. quantity vs. quality. This is not the time for such indulgences. You better know what product you have in mind before you set foot in this store.

During this process there are all kinds of people trying to grab the attention of an over worked saleswoman, and it's very noisy and over stimulating. The only thing I can liken this to is the first time I visited the stock market when I was little. The shouting and pointing for things you want to buy; it feels like you need to make a bid on something before someone else snags the product. It's actually kind of exhausting to visit this place.

Because when I first moved back to Chile I was just visiting, I only had a 10-day supply of all my beauty products. Shampoo, face wash, conditioner, soap -- all the essentials -- so I found myself in this place all.  the. time. replenishing my minimal supply of beauty products. 

Now that I'm well stocked after the holidays (with shampoos and lotions that will probably outlive me), I probably won't be visiting a Preunic anytime soon.

Lauren 

Eathquake, the movie.

I just found this online via Daniela. It's a movie about the Feb. 27 earthquake in Chile and looks amazing. I'll definitely want to check this out.

Lauren

Fingerprints

The key to getting into our apartment -- a finger scanner.

This is another one of those things that is far more common here then it is in the United States: Getting your finger scanned instead of using identification cards or keys.

Doctor's offices use these to look up your information and records. Apartments like ours, use them as keys. The back of each Chilean carné (identity card) has a fingerprint on the back and anytime you get something notarized you use apply your fingerprint to the document you're getting notarized. The first two seem practical. People sometimes forget their wallet, a card, or their keys. But you always have your fingers handy, so there's never any looking things up, calling a locksmith, having to drive home to get something. But on your ID card? I don't really see the usefulness in that.

At first I was a bit squeamish about this. I think it's my American skepticism and how present the phrase Big Brother is in U.S. vernacular, but the idea of your whole life being associated with your fingerprint gave me the creeps.

And, although this is highly improbable, what happens if you lose your finger? And what do people without their right index finger do? Is there a hierarchy of the digits? What about people without arms, how would such a person get into our building? I guess the concierge (which almost every building has) would have to let them in. I did however find out that there is a hierarchy of the digits, and at one time knew what finger was second most important after the right index finger. But I've forgotten.


Lauren

Walk to work

So since moving back to Chile and walking to work everyday, I've realized I this is the most beautiful walk to work that I've ever had (which isn't saying a whole lot because I graduated college two years ago). But! I've worked all kinds of jobs, before and during college. My walk to work is really stunning, and it's pretty short -- about one kilometer give or take away from the front door of our apartment.

Because it's so pretty I thought I'd share my walk with some commentary. Happy weekend!

 The view out the front door of our apartment. Just pas those bushes is the Mapocho river.

 The Mapocho river.

 A fountain in Parque Forestal, just a block from our apartment.

 La Casa Naranja: an arts center and nice restaurant, bar.

 The Bellas Artes muesum.

 Cute cobblestone street

 Outside the Emporio la Rosa ice cream store and cafe (they're ice cream is amazing!).

 Check out the amazing architecture.

 The always busy Baquedano, where people congregate. It was here that people came to celebrate after Chile advanced in the World Cup last year.

 MoviStar tower

 Second park I get to walk through, Parque Bustamante

Lauren

Plastic bags.

I try to be as ecologically conscious as I can. I walk to work instead of take a bus or metro (which is still better then driving.) I've begun to give more thought to where my food is from, although in Chile it's probably from here. There's not nearly as much importing as there is in the U.S.

The easiest thing of all, I use reusable bags. At the supermarket, dry cleaner (admittedly not so green), anywhere I may have to take something away in a bag, I put it in a reusable bag. But here baggers hate putting things in reusable bag. Usually at the end of a check stand, at a take-away restaurant, there is a long argument between me and the person who insists on using these bags.

"Oh, it's OK. Can you use this? Thank you."

"But the inside of your bag will get dirty."

"That's fine. Can you use it?"

"But what if the bag makes [insert product] dirty."

"No, no. That's fine. Just please use the bag."

"I'm going to put the plastic bag in the bag to keep your bag [or the product] safe."

By this time a line is starting to grow behind me so I just smile, say "thank you!" and tip the person 100 CHP (about $.20, which is considered a decent tip). If I don't take the bag, the bagger doesn't even look disappointed for losing a tip (even though I tip anyways), (s)he looks hurt. It's amazing.

One person at the nearby bread, pastry store happily says "Oh! An eco-logical bag! How good of you." as she piles my salad/bread/whatever into the bag. Everyone else just looks at me like I'm from Mars. But that's OK. I'm used to it.

Lauren

The IVA

This has to be filed under the "Things I don't like about Chile" category. The IVA, or incredibly high book tax. Books here are very heavily taxed with, what I'm told, is a 19% mark up. This means a normal, soft-cover bestseller will be between $28-$30.


Some hard cover books or books not easily found can be incredibly expensive, getting up to the $60-$80 range. This is anti-intellectualism at it's worst. Some people defend the IVA because the money from these taxes are supposed to go into a fund that pays for natural disaster repairs, like after the earthquake. No one wants to do without that right?


But there has to be an alternative to this. What about sin taxes? Cigarettes and booze are pretty popular. Why not levy taxes on those items? They'd probably make more money because people buy more of those things on a regular basis.


Instead what results is that many people buy their books from photocopies sold on the street, or worse, don't read at all. A tragedy. I've been dying to buy this coffee table book with images from the communist revolution in Chile in the 1960s for months now, but can't bear to pay the $45 or so dollars it would cost, although in fairness coffee table books are usually pretty expensive.


It's amazing to think that two books shipped from the U.S. in a $40 flat-rate box are actually cheaper than buying two books in the bookstore.


Can't the government reallocate some of the money it's making hand-over-fist from those copper mines up north?

Cuico vs. Flaite

One of the first things I learned on my return to Chile is that there are two Chiles. The upper class Chile (cuico) and what is considered the lower class (flaite). Other friends had mentioned that there were two Chiles in Santiago before, but only recently was I exposed to how deep these references run.


I was at lunch with two very good male friends when I said that I was going out with someone later that night. One replied "Just make sure he's ... people like us" half in jest because it's a typical thing you hear, but also half serious.


The two Chile's are divided by who lives on what side of the roundabout that is at the center of the city, known as the "belly button of Chile." If you live on the east side, closest the Andes, you're cuico. Where you went to college, what color your eyes are, what color your hair is, what color your skin is, what you drive, even where you went to high school indicates which of these groups you belong to. (I happily live on the flaite side of town, which I can testify, isn't that bad.)


If you have ojos claros, from the north, live on the east side of Baquedano you're 100% cuico. People from the south, dark eyed, dark hair, went the poorer schools, dark skin (this seems to be an international discriminating factor) you can be (but are not necessarily) considered flaite. Flaite is almost synonymous with the word ghetto.


You can also tell someone's class by their last name. Hearing certain names, instantly you can know what class the person comes from.


There are of course gray areas, but the lines separating class are still very closely follow these distinctions.


On my ride home I watched a Chilean film "Machuca" about two kids who tried to defy these lines during the transition to the Pinochet regime. One kid from the ritzy Vitacura (nicknamed "strawberry face" because of his red hair and freckles) befriends one of the fliate kids in his class. This mixing of classes is seen as socialist and (spoiler alert) the kids from the bad part of town are taken out of school after Pinochet comes to power.


I've embedded the trailer for "Machuca" below.


Lauren

Heading .. home?

Someone wants to move to Chile. ..


Home. I'm not someone who considers "where you hang your hat" or "where you leave your things" home. That being said, I'm not quite sure where I'd call home. Los Angeles, where I grew up? Long Beach, the first city I lived in as an adult? Chile ? In visiting the latter two I realized how much I missed these places.


I'm tired of living the gypsy life.  Living out of two suitcases filled with clothes, books, and snacks is can be hard (and messy!). But I still love life in Chile, I love the adventure, traveling, new people. But I am also prone to homesickness. On that note, I'm headed back to Santiago with a bit of ambivalence. I'm excited for more exploration, adventures, and experience ... and I want all my family/friends/accoutrement's to come with me. I guess you can't have the best of both worlds.


Right now, I guess I would say Chile is home, and I'm headed back there after a wonderful three, almost four, weeks of visiting family and friends in Los Angeles.


I'll check back in when I'm back in Santiago.

Initial thoughts part II.

This time last year I was writing a very similar blog post. I was setting off to live in Santiago, Chile with a friend. This year, however, I'm embarking on my own adventure and moving back alone after already spending a year there.


I moved back to Santiago in September of last year. Initially I left only to only to visit friends on a 10-day trip and ended up scoring an amazing job as editor in chief of an English-language magazine. In the three months between when I moved back to Chile and now, when I'm leaving Los Angeles after visiting my family, I realized I missed blogging. I missed having a platform to share my daily experiences, thoughts, and photos with friends and family. I missed sharing Santiago.


This blog, however, will be different from Chillin' in Chile. Like Chillin' I aim to use this space to share my thoughts, experiences, observations, reflections, photos, everything with my family, friends, and anyone who's interested. But, unlike last time, it's just me writing these posts. No dialog or discussion posts, like I had when I was writing with Aneya (unless I can get some of my expat friends to share their thoughts on here, too).


This time I'm not moving to a city I've never been to. I know Santiago quite a bit better than I did, and I've discovered there are things I love and hate about living there.


Among the things I love about Santiago:
--Speaking Spanish every day
--The warm people
--The Andes
--Walking through two beautiful parks to get to work every(ish) morning.
--The busy downtown


The things I don't love, I'll have to write about another time.


Thanks for reading and I'm eager to hear feedback on what you all think.




Lauren