Pantyhose vending machines.

More then just for a quick snack, vending machines can sell pantyhose for the woman on the go, and are in almost every metro around Santiago.

They're incredibly practical if you think about it. You leave the office for the metro, and realize you have a run in your stockings the day of a big meeting and don't want to look trashy, buy new panties! In the metro! Change at work. So smart, even thoughtful really. 

They even suggest a kind of value for the Chilean professional woman. There must be a large enough population of working women for it to be profitable to have these at nearly every metro station.

Lauren

Ads.

We don't watch very much TV at the apartment, maybe the evening news, an occasional movie, and our soaps when we remember (I am kind of interested in a new comedy Almacen however), but when we watch TV it's not the shows that get me. It's the ads.

In the U.S. commercials cast those who use their products as cool or more attractive. They appeal to the individual. You will be better off if you buy this, they say. As someone who's given up on being cool a long time ago, I don't find them very effective (except that I guess I think about the products advertised more then the ones that aren't).

Here however it's not about looking cool, it's about doing what's best for your family. You as an individual won't just be happier, this Coca Cola/Pampers/Activia/whatever will make your entire family better off, it will bring communities and neighbors together, these commercials say. In this way it's both more effective, and it feels a little more sinister. You'll buy this if you love your family, and if not .. well ... you must not love them that much.

I found myself getting choked up over an Activia commercial the other day. How a yogurt that helps with digestion was cast as a means of bringing the family together, I can't really say.

Perfect example of this pasted below.  A yogurt commercial that both plays on crucial role the family plays in Chile, but also on the nostalgia many people have for the pastoral south of Chile, where many people still have family.

Lauren

Giving blood.

Donating blood in Chile is another one of the things that is different than how it is in the U.S. When a family member or friend is in a car accident, rather then getting blood from a large bank, like in the U.S. the onus is on the family members to get blood for the relative in need.

When I first heard this I thought that people wanted you do donate in honor of their relative who needed a transfusion, to replenish the supply or something. In fact it's for a specific person. It seems like just another source of stress for family members when they are already worried about the health of their family.

However, so often I've heard people say that they want to "do something," really get active in their loved one's recovery, and feel like they're doing something other then sitting by their bedside, and this definitely gives families a chance to get involved .. I guess.

On another note: I finally found out why nail polish is so strictly prohibited in surgery. Apparently because the natural color of the nail is red (because of the red blood cells) if one's nails turn white during surgery, it means something's gone wrong. Good to know.

Lauren

'Are you in love?'

Apparently a popular saying in France and Chile for when someone cooks something very salty. They are in love because they are too busy thinking about the person they are in love with to watch the amount of salt they pour into their cooking, the saying goes.

I've never heard this before, but I like it.

Lauren

Bureaucracy.

All the crazy running around town for this little card.

So yesterday was pretty close to being my own personal hell. My visa was supposed to arrive in the mail, but never did, so I had to go to the foreigners' office. I set my alarm especially early, but didn't get out the door until 9 a.m. Thankfully, the foreign office is just down the street.

Cutting to the chase, after eight hours of climbing stairs, visiting various levels of the foreign office, civil registration office, and at least three international police stations, I ended the day broke and with my fingers covered in black ink and baby oil. This, it seems, is standard procedure.

To explain: The ink and baby oil were the last part of my ordeal. There use of a fingerprint on documents here is extremely common, and I had to get fingerprinted on more then one occasion yesterday.

The baby oil/lotion was to remove the ink, although it seemed to only further slicken and smear it. I walked out of the last building, after standing for two hours in a bathroomless gigantic office, with my hands held in front of me like a surgeon who'd just been prepped for an operation.

Before moving to Chile I knew very little about the it. South American country, land of wine,  bass ... and that's about it. I kind of wanted it to be a totally new experience, and avoided doing research. Even so, in my minimal research I'd heard the bureaucracy in Chile was infamous well before I left. I still think the U.S. is probably far worse in this way, but this experience may change my mind.

What makes matters worse is that all Chilean government offices close at 14:00 -- yes, 2 p.m. Which means you absolutely must take time off work to get these things done because there is no way you can do this on a lunch break. Thankfully, my job is very flexible with my hours. But how do people with more rigid schedules make this work? Especially foreigners, most of whom are Peruvian, Bolivian, or Ecuadorian and usually work very difficult jobs, which, I imagine, are not as flexible.

At least there wasn't any bribing or other form of corruption in order to file my paperwork, like is common in other South American countries. For this, I am definitely grateful.

Lauren