Bedbugs Update

CONFIRMED: BEDBUGS

My life for the past few days has been a whirlwind of bug bites, mattresses, exterminators, and a confused host family. It all started when I woke up next to a flat, brown bug looking me in the eye.

Of course, I ran and screamed to my host mom like a wittle baby. We had already discussed the possibility of fleas, stress, and allergic reactions (our maid tried convincing me I was allergic to all the chocolate or wine I was consuming. Are you just trying to make me angry or ruin my life?), but despite my reasoning of having patterns of bites, only being bitten at night, and trying every bug repellent in the world against ticks, mosquitos, ticks, etc., no one seemed to be on board with my bedbug theory. This had to be it! I had proof! This little guy definitely resembled a bed bug. I even Google Image'd pictures of bed bugs, and they looked exactly like the one we found. Unfortunately, after killing the bug and finding no blood inside, the family once again thought I was a crazy gringa. They even mentioned how expensive it would be to exterminate via steam-cleaning and told me I may have to move out. It all happened so quickly. I was devastated. As uncommon as bedbugs are in Chile (it's not like I'm rolling around in them all the time in the States!), no one wanted to believe that they could live anywhere and be transported very easily. "They are a bug of the country," my mom told me. "They don't exist in big, clean houses like this. I clean this house very well!" my maid insisted. I felt like the only one in the world who seemed to know the answer, and with little vocabulary to prove it.

Maybe it was showing the picture of the bug to the exterminator, or talking to my IFSA program leaders, or the extra research my host family did... but somehow between "You may have to change houses" and "Actually, I think you may be right about the chinches (bedbugs)," my mother went out and bought a new bed frame, mattress, pillows, comforter, sheets, and moved all of my things into a new room without carpet. It felt like Christmas morning after spending the night in my old bed and waking up with 18 new bites. Despite having to take pills and put on repellents and anti-itch cream, things are finally starting to look up. I can't tell you how frustrating it is to go through a situation like this with little-to-no support and in an entirely different country. Ojalá (God willing/let's hope) that everything will work itself out!

And because I forgot to do this on my last, hastily-written blog:

Things Chileans and Americans will never understand about each other!

Americans don't understand:
Public Displays of Affection. PDA. You're all over each other in public. This is one of the things I've tried telling myself is okay but can't help make an ugly face at when I see it. Okay, you're young and in love, and you can't keep your hands off each other... but do you really have to heavily make out and grab each other all over right in the middle of the sidewalk? I'm trying to get to class, people. Can't y'all just hold hands and walk home and make out there? The unfortunate thing is, this isn't that one drunk girl making out at 3:00 am outside of the bar, or 15-year-olds who have to hide from their parents. Adults do it too! Ew! People your age don't do that stuff! I'm not sure if this is a Chilean thing or normal in the Latin culture in general, but after dating someone from Mexico who would never approve of this behavior, I'm gonna go ahead and say I'm living in the public make out capital of South America (kidding).

Chileans don't understand:
How to host a party. Okay, before all the Chileans flip their lids over this, I must preface this section by saying Chileans know how to party longer and harder than anyone I know in the United States. You guys are crazy. You drink to the point that would leave me in the hospital and dance so long that I think my legs are going to fall off. But, at every asado I have been to that someone throws, everyone must pay for their share. I guess it makes sense if you care about it. A good example of this is at my friend Chris'
house. His family regularly lets him throw asados for various occasions. And in this case, it makes sense - we are all broke students and one guy shouldn't have to pay for what could potentially be 30 people's meals. Because of this, we all meet up at his house beforehand and walk to his nearby supermarket, the good ol' Jumbo, and buy our own meat. If we can't make it before the party, we end up paying once we get there. This concept applies more to adult parties. If you're offering to throw a party, why can't you serve some food for your friends and have everyone who attends bring a dish or a drink? When my family threw our asado for September 18th, we did just that. Our family prepared Chilean salad (what I mentioned earlier as tomatoes and onions), potato salad, a huge bowl of avocados, drinks, and a place to celebrate for 30 people. Everyone else brought their own contributions, such as meat for grilling or wine and pisco for the day and night. We had a great time singing, dancing, laughing, and telling stories...until I glanced over at my mom's boyfriend and he was whipping out his reading glasses, a notebook, and a calculator. He ended up figuring out every cent every person spent on the party and dividing it up amongst how many people had attended (children included). After every adult fished through their wallets and paid the exact amount, I couldn't help but feel awkward and like this was a little too rigid. I guess I was expecting this to be like My Big Fat Greek Wedding or something, where paying $15 more dollars for my portion than yours is all in the name of celebration with one's family and friends. Think again!

I promise to update about my spring break in San Pedro very soon. 'Til next time!