For the Future Gringa: Advice from a week-long expert in Chile

Tomorrow I will be celebrating my first full week in the beautiful resort city of Viña del Mar, Chile. While I realize I have five months ahead of me to truly master and understand this culture, I have observed six significant cultural differences thus far that I feel every gringo should take note of before leaving the States. Whatever you're comfortable with in the land of the free and the home of the brave, throw it out the window. Rules of the road? Simply suggestions. Politeness? They don't have it, so suck it up. Diet? No one likes skinny girls anyway. Political correctness? You bet your ass it doesn't exist here. Listen up, y'all.

1). Mo' money, mo' problems 

Although the US Dollar's value changes every day, we typically have pretty standard conversions when mentally calculating how much money we'll be spending in another country. I figured since Chile used the peso, it'd be the same exchange rate as Mexico, with $1US = around $10 pesos. However, in Chile, $1 US = roughly $465 Chilean Pesos. Wait... what?! As someone whose favorite subject has nothing to do with numbers, it seemed impossible at first to figure out how much I was spending for every $2300 ice cream cone. But thanks to a certain group of clever, math-savvy friends of mine, I now know this trick: 

a). How much is whatever you're buying? $6000 Chilean Pesos. 

b). Multiply this by 2: (6000 x 2 = 12000).

c). Take off three zeros. If you got $12 US, good job! You just paid $12 for two drinks. (True story - this happened to me last week)

2). Bundle up!

Because Chile is on the other side of the equator, get ready for a very cold winter when you leave the hot and humid US summer. What's so bad about a little change? I'll tell you what - no central heating. Now, if you love camping and all that jazz and are perfectly fine with trying to get to sleep with chattering teeth and frozen toes, you should really take up living in South America. For those of us who like to seek shelter from the cold in a cozy, warm house, don't expect anything of the sort in Chile. It may even be colder inside! Bring every sweatshirt, sock, and pair of sweatpants that you own and get under the covers. When it's time to face the day and actually bear the elements outside of your bed, suck it up and get undressed like it's a new Olympic sport and you're dying for that gold (the gold being under 10 new layers of clothes). You will savor every shower like you'll never have warmth again.

3). Forget about structure and relax 

Because I have a Type-A personality and function better with structure, this has been the hardest adjustment for me thus far. A lot of processes that seem organized and easy to follow in the United States can turn into disorder and chaos in no time without a fixed system or schedule. Registering for classes was a total nightmare for me, as we had to visit every different department of the university and scribble our names on a piece of printer paper to officially be enrolled in each class. This wouldn't have been as difficult if we didn't have to enroll in 20 classes in the beginning with no guidance of what to take. The point is, the systems are different here and typically less rigid. If there are no lanes in the road, you better believe cars are going to swarm with no sense of order. If you make plans with someone, don't expect them to be on time or even follow through. Just "go with the flow" and don't be such an uptight American (someone please remind me of this from time to time). 

4). Don't take it personally. 

If you're different, it will be known. And announced. And continuously brought up. Although people with blonde hair, or rubios, have a reputation for standing out like sore thumbs and attracting a lot of attention, I feel like I've had it much easier than others in this society. While the uncomfortable, prolonged staring by people of all ages gets old very quickly (I cannot begin to explain how awkward situations can get sometimes), I'd rather be called "Barbie" every day by my maid than "fat girl," or gordita, which is a common nickname for those who are overweight. In the home, with friends, at work, or in the classroom, a common practice is to refer to someone by their appearance. You're black? You're 

probably going to be called la negra when someone is referring to you. Asian? La china is your new name. While neither of these names are politically correct or accepted in our culture, they are only terms of endearment to classify who is who in Chile (and in Latin America, for that matter). The most uncomfortable time I've had with these nicknames is with my host sister, who is constantly being reminded she is overweight at meals, during exercise, and when talking about clothes. Instead of being insulted, the people here just take these comments lightly and joke back with the other person. Don't be surprised if someone casually asks how much you weigh or how much your shoes cost. 

5). Develop a giant obsession with mayonnaise. 

This pretty much speaks for itself. Mayonnaise is on everything. And the Chileans always wonder why their nation isn't the skinniest. Hello! You have three bags of Hellmann's in your fridge (it comes in squeeze bags, not bottles)! The most amusing meal I've had was a salad of a couple green beans and pieces of corn, with two slices of ham covered in mayonnaise. Get used to it or specify that you don't want it, or else a huge glob of it will be on your next serving of potatoes. This rule also applies to palmitas, the white, tasteless, half-crunchy-half-soft vegetables that are on every salad and sandwich. 

6). Accept the problem of homeless hounds 

I lied, this may be the hardest problem I've encountered. The public places in Chile have numerous stray dogs in all parts of town. Many used to be owned by residents and were later just left on the streets to fend for themselves. Most of the dogs find solace in being alone and have no problem sleeping in the middle of a busy sidewalk, which can be quite sad and hilarious at the same time. The hardest time I have is when a dog looks emaciated and follows you as soon as you walk by until you either give it food or tell it to go away. I am too emotionally attached to fully ignore this problem as the people of Chile seem to do, but have to remind myself that because of this issue, many people feed the dogs in their neighborhood to keep them alive. However, I still wish something along the lines of a Humane Society initiative would be put in place. 

And only because I stayed out until 6:30 in the morning last night, I thought I'd add one more to the list:

7). Watch out for that damn pisco. 

Pisco is THE drink of Chile, the favorite drink of men and women. Pisco is a brandy made from grapes, and mixes well with many other drinks. The most popular drinks are "Pisco Sours" and "PisColas," in which I've typically seen half the glass filled with pisco and the other filled with the respective mixer. In my opinion, pisco is to Chile as beer is to the United States. However, it is very strong and is known to give massive cañas, or hangovers. Just take my advice... or the pisco will getcha.

Twenty Four Little Hours

I would not have been able to write this entry a few hours ago. I'll get into that a bit later.

What a difference a day makes! To celebrate our last night in Olmué (a.k.a. Latin American Purgatory), the hotel staff decided to challenge our gringo group to a game of fútbol. We got really strange looks by the European students also staying in our hotel, as we were all dressed in shorts and t-shirts in winter at 11:00 pm (see the photo of Mr. Jack Kelly below). I will never forget a girl from Hamburg, Germany telling us "I always knew Americans were crazy, but football at 11:00 pm?!" After following some guys we assumed were our opponents down numerous dirt roads (and thinking to ourselves - are we getting kidnapped right now?), we got to the soccer field and split into our respective teams. We began taking funny pictures of our random and quasi-uncoordinated team, until I looked over and the hotel staff has matching fleeces, shin guards, and cleats on! Okaaay, David Beckham! I thought this was just a friendly game of fútbol?!

The next day we went hiking in La Campana national Park. The scenery was unlike anything I'd ever seen before, with green trees covering every inch of mountain and cactus plants everywhere. However, that's all I remember because I woke up the same morning with a cold and my only concern was where I was going to blow my nose next.

We finally packed up our things and said adios - forever, I hope - to the sad and depressing town of Olmué. Driving towards Valparaíso/Viña del Mar was intriguing, driving past shantytowns as well as houses that would be deemed acceptable to appear on "Real Housewives of Olmué." We probably passed about ten dirt soccer fields, half of which were being played in and reminded me of those commercials they always play during the World Cup. You know what I'm talking about - the kids who don't have much and probably aren't wearing shoes but are too damn happy to care because they have a soccer ball and a patch of land to kick between their non-shoe-wearing friends. The biggest difference I noticed, which everyone on the bus found entertaining and equally ridiculous for me to take note of, was the lack of interest in taking care of the land. Sure, no one cares about a manicured lawn or a perfectly fixed fence in all parts of the world, but why does it look like someone's using this countryside as a landfill? Why doesn't anyone do anything about it? I wouldn't deem myself America's Most Caring and Responsible Treehugger 2011, but what does it take for people to think that it's okay just to let conditions get worse, and what triggers another person to clean it up? Why does it exist in some places and not in others? I know that's really odd to think about, but I can't help but think of how and why it's there and always will be. You'll come to learn that I think too much sometimes.

Our bus pulled into the parking lot of a horse racing stadium in Viña del Mar where all of our host families were waiting with big smiles and even bigger hugs. I finally met my mother, Marisol, and my host sister, Paulina, who just turned 23. They drove me around Viña del Mar, showing me the much more exciting and lively town, eventually leading to our neighborhood. We have an amazing house, with an avocado tree in the backyard and a perfect view of the ocean from our street. I have a sunken bedroom and a TV of my own, one of which I was never allowed to have as a kid (in your face, Mom! Just kidding... I miss you).

Today we picked up my other sister, Catalina (24), from the bus station and watched the final game of the American Cup while waiting for her. Besides Uruguay whoopin' Paraguay's butt, I noticed everyone staring at me like I was E.T. - something our orientation directors warned us about. We ate a late lunch at an Italian restaurant, where I was handed some pisco sours and red wine. Dilemma! While I wanted to finish it all and not be rude, I also didn't want to be that drunk gringa on the second day at whom they all looked back on and laughed. The next moment I find myself in Viña's huge casino, playing slots with my family. To be honest, it was kind of a blur of smoke and screens and computer game noises. We then visited a family member's apartment where I got to meet some super cute, young kids who speak Spanish better than I do. That's always comforting. Trying to speak a second language with people you've just met while interacting with little kids is already hard enough, but under the influence? Ayyy.

I love my family. They're extremely understanding, helpful, and patient with me when I probably come off like a total bimbo. Speaking of, I've had a pretty interesting experience with showers here. This is what a typical shower in Chile is like for me:

1). Turn on the hot water. Wait for it to get hot. Turn on the cool water to get to the perfect temperature.

2). Get in the shower.

3). Suddenlyit'sFREEZING! You might as well be bathing in ice water. Turn the cold water down a millimeter.

4). Ahhh okay. That's better. Put on some shampoo, stand under th-ohmygodit's SCALDING HOT. Your scalp and back probably have first degree burns by now. Turn down the hot water a millimeter.

5). Repeat steps 3 - 4.

The bad part is, if there's anything I've learned about every other country, it's that water and electricity are both very pricey. I don't want to waste my family's resources or money, but at the same time, being naked under extreme conditions isn't my definition of enjoyable.

That's all for now. I'm going to get ready for bed and wash my face with Antarctic water. Buenas noches.

Latin American Purgatory

I guess there's an unwritten yet understood rule that any student who studies abroad must document their experiences in a blog. As someone who has composed countless documents for newspapers, AP classes, and courses at the university level, I feel obligated to have an informative yet quirky blog, with witty allusions and out-of-this-world syntax. So unless South America has its own concept of time (actually, they do - show up ten minutes late to everything) where there are more hours added to every day, I won't have a schedule conducive to writing said blog. Instead, I'm just going to describe what I see, what I do, what I experience, and my feelings towards it all.

I've decided to study in Valparaíso, Chile while staying with a host family in Viña del Mar. These twin cities are on the Pacific Coast, with the Chilean metropolis, Santiago, and the Andes Mountains only a couple hours away. Sounds ideal, right? Well, we aren't there yet. Our group of 20 American students has been placed in Olmué, Chile, or what I like to refer to as "Latin American Purgatory."

Olmué was about an hour and a half drive from the Santiago airport. From all that we've seen, it's a tiny town with unpaved roads, stray dogs, and a clear view of what I assume are the Andes (what else would they be?). We have been placed in a German hotel and sit in a classroom overlooking the premises, being told everything we need to know for our next five months in Chile. Aside from the unique food (everyone still complains about the peeled tomato with mayonnaise and tuna salad inside) and being spoken to in Spanish by our directors, it doesn't feel like we're, well...anywhere. With keeping busy during the day and nowhere to go at night, we're confined to our odd little hotel and the activities it offers. The most fun we expected to have was in the heated pool, until we realized we had to buy swim caps - Michael Phelps style - for 2.000 Chilean pesos, or about $4.5 US. Apparently the pool's filters can't handle human hair and swim caps are the only solution. If the filters can't handle hair, how clean is the actual pool?

 This morning, our third day in the depressing town of Olmué, was discouraging. After a lecture with a professor from the Pontificia Universidad Católica de Valparaíso, or PUCV, explaining how every Chilean speaks quickly and cuts off segments of words, throws in useless filler such as "hüevón" and "poh," and is impossible to understand, I just about had it with these so called "challenges" we weren't even allowed to experience yet.

However, I keep having to remind myself that Valparaíso and Viña del Mar are only 24 hours away, with my host family, classes, the excitement of two new cities just around the corner. Our IFSA-Butler directors seem very eager to help and I've heard nothing but amazing stories about this program. I'm excited to write some more positive entries.

Until then I'll be in Latin American purgatory. 'Til next time!

(Edit: I wrote this yesterday and things have changed a lot since then. I'll be updating tomorrow.)