Lola and the colectivos

So when my host mom first called me Lola, I automatically thought she was calling me a whore given the connotations associated with Lolita, the book. However, after asking my second dictionary source, my teachers, I was reassured to know Lola is another way to say joven. Other Chilean sayings: peinarse la muneca (muneca has an enye), patas negras, cucharita (spooning), bacan (cool), que fome or que lata (how boring/what a shame). You also don't want to say caliente when you mean I'm hot because you're telling people that you're sexy in a bad way. "Eat" has the same bad doubling meaning in Spanish as it does in English. Anyway, just a little more of my Spanish learning experience, outside of the classroom.

Colectivos are $400 a ride during the day compared to the micros, which are $370. I'm still amazed at the concept of the colectivo-- taxis that pick up a group of people and have a specific route. Just comparing this economical and environmentally friendlier approach to getting from point A to point B shows the difference between this country and the States.

I tried teaching my students about recycling but as I was teaching, realized that most Chileans reuse a certain amount of material as a natural habit. For example, huge plastic bottles are reused to mix new drinks rather than being thrown out. My professors are always willing to give rides to others who don't have cars, even if it's out of the way for them. Left over food is always saved in my family. So, it was difficult to tell my students how to save energy and material when it was already an unconscious act! Also, water is already a precious commodity in the desert, so people don't waste water here. Also, central heating in houses during the winter isn't used, so they're already saving energy on gas by wearing more layers and using blankets.

Back to my original idea, colectivos will pretty much get you to the same place as a micro with only three others in the car rather than a bus load of people beside you. Plus, 30 pesos extra is worth my time of not having to sit in public transportation for as long (my trip to school is already 50 minutes, divided between a colectivo ride and then a separate bus ride). Plus, I think the 30 pesos is the money you pay for the entertainment of riding a colectivo. One choffeur was so excited when I entered his car, he exclaimed "You're oriental!" He then proceeded to try and say things he knew in other languages. He asked me how I would say "How are you?" in Chinese although I did mention it was my grandparents who were from China, and I was actually from the States (I guess it didn't really matter) Then I was pissed that the one of the few phrases I can say in Mandarin (which, by the way, is NOT the Chinese my family speaks.... Taisan, a form of Cantonese is actual language) slipped my mind. (Ni ho ma) Then, another choffeur was on his was to taking my full car through the city and he randomly ran out of his parked car to buy a lightbulb while we sat there helplessly waiting for him to come back. In the same ride, money was exchanged between him and a young student passing by. Then, last night the colectivo driver let me pay 100 pesos less because I didn't have exact change, and then took me to the correct address after I told him the wrong cross street. He also believed that all Chinese people are beautiful and rarely fat. ja ja ja.

Anyway, these are just ramblings I've thought of while living here.

The pics: door art hanging at the entrances of each classroom at E-88 and the visit to Mejillones as a group

Tell Me Something Good...

How the teachers love helping me with my Spanish! I was talking about one of my seventh graders, Peirina, and they thought I started talking about the tragos (drinks) caiprinha as I was saying her name with and enye (n with a tilde). Or as I try to say dialogo and mix up the pronunciation and say diagolo... mind you, I can't always say words correctly in English (once waffle iron came out as "awful wiern" don't ask me why) I lunch in the school's comedor on Mondays with a sweetheart teacher named Moni (short for Monica) who feeds me like I have two stomachs. She brings foods she has prepared for the two of us in her home and always gives me twice as much as she gives herself. This week, she served chaquikan which reminded me of Chaka Khan, so the entire meal I was singing "Tell Me Something Good" in my head. Chaquikan is a mix of veggies and ground meat with a stew like texture that's served with rice. Not to be confused with choripan, which I've never had but is a piece of meat enveloped in bread. Moni always reminds me that "los manitos" (my little hands) must rest on the table during the entirety of the meal. My family doesn't really care where my hands are resting when I'm at home, but as I always say, when in Chile, do as the Chileans do! Miss Lisa also got to sing the Star-Spangled Banner all day last Thursday and when she croaked on "And the rocket's red glare..." she began to laugh as did her 6th graders. But in the end, they cheered and told her she had a beautiful voice! I'll probably never start a singing career in the states but at least I can get my practice here in Chile with my students. I also took a quick overnight trip to visit Rio, my fellow volunteer in Region II in Mejillones, and gave the students of segundo medio a quick lesson on the US's national anthem. jajaja. Today I taught my primero basico students solo, which was a little crazy. Luckily, Peirina (whose name I can now pronounce correctly) helped me with segundo basico. We learned the four seasons and then I had the students create a page of fall leaves using real leaves as their stencils! When the students are good, their angels.

Peirina singing for the competicion de la voz

Floating Around Chile

So, my 6:30pm "en la tarde" (in the afternoon, an expression which I love when referring to anytime between 12pm and 8pm) departure from Antofagasta to La Serena began my journey across two regions within a 12 hour time span. I was supposed to leave later at 8:10pm, but found room to leave earlier after class ended on Friday at 5:30pm. 12 hours on a bus leaves a lot of time for me to rest with my thoughts. I kept getting a sneaky suspicion the steward for the bus was checking me out as every time he passed my seat he had a huge grin on his face. This is not me being egotistical. As a ginga in Chile, you get used to being stared at like an alien from another planet. But sometimes, you just get sick of being the "it" person. My instinct proved me right when he pulled me aside on my way back from the bathroom and asked if I wanted to talk to him. I consented, although he had me wedged between himself and the window-- no escape! After talking to him for a while, I told him I was tired and went back to my seat. My friends and I joke about finding a fantasy Chilean guy on a bus with whom we can make-out with (sorry, any readers who are parents, but it's true). But somehow, the steward's using his work time as his socializing time didn't cut it for me... and I wasn't attracted to him. His friendship was proven advantageous when I almost didn't get off the bus at La Serena at 6:30am the next morning! It was pitch black outside and I had to get another ticket to Pisco Elqui, 2 and a half hours more on another bus. The man behind the counter at the bus stop told me the only place to buy a ticket to Pisco Elqui was up the street a block or so. I venture outside, only to find that the sidewalk ends (!!!) and the busy main road is the only thing to walk on. Consulting the counterman a second time, he tells me the bus terminal is past this section next to the mall. I make it to the bus terminal in one piece and wait until the Via Elqui bus company opens at 7:30am to get my ride. Mind you, I had used my debit card earlier that week to purchase the bus ride to La Serena, so I had no access to withdraw money until the transaction went through (hmmm... almost reminiscent of the calls I received at the Bistro!). I have just enough pesos to buy a one way ticket to Pisco Elqui. But the fun didn't stop there! I get off in Vicuna, a little town in the valley, only realizing after the bus has taken off that I'm not in Pisco. Finally, at 11am I roll into town. I wait for Vincent, my French friend, in the only plaza in town. There, Vincent and his 25 yr. old student friend, Savas, meet me. Gabriela, our new hostess in town, drives us to her home where we are staying for the weekend. I dress to go for our walk, and we hike the mountains of Pisco Elqui, accompanied by Gabriela's dogs, Turco and Draco. Ironically, "Turco" becomes Savas' favorite as "Turco" means Turk, and Savas' father's descendents are Turkish (his mother's family is Armenian). We follow the horse trail, stop for ham and cheese sandwiches (on WHEAT bread!) and continue through the valley to Los Nichos. Los Nichos is known for it's fresh pisco-- a brandy-like liqueur commonly made in Chile. Of course, at our arrival at 2pm, everything is closed for lunch. A vendor obligingly lets us in after a couple minutes and we sample the pisco which says "35" (yet its said that pisco is 70% alcohol). Whatever the percentage is, it is STRONG stuff. Straight pisco is for serious drinkers only... so I usually take mine with sour mix (pisco sour). We met two other French people in Los Nichos, a young woman and man, both mechanical engineers working in Santiago also visiting Valle de Elqui for the weekend. They give us a ride back to Pisco Elqui, sparing us the 5 km walk back. I felt a little guilty taking the ride. Not for my own sake, but the dogs, Turco and Draco, were left to fend for themselves. Vicente and Savas didn't seem to mind that we might have abandoned our hostess' dogs in the remote town, but I prayed they would make it back. We toured the distillery of Mistral next to the town's plaza with our two new engineer friends. Of the different piscos made there, Mistral Nobel and Tres Erres (Three R's) are the elite types. Both have the same amount of alcohol in them, but Tres Erres is clear and fruitier and Nobel is very dark and oakey. We sat in the patio and had pisco sours at the end of our tour. Before heading back to the house, we picked up more meat for our evening asado. That night, we prepared some rice and boiled potatoes to go with the pork chops and chicken pieces Savas had cooking over the bbq pit. Vincent and Savas, both being blessed with skinny French bodies (or maybe its their obsessive smoking habit) ate blissfully while I hit my limit and then headed for bed. The Concho y Toro wine with dinner was enough for me and I left the boys as they proceeded with the pisco. How I couldn't wait to sleep in the full-sized bed in my single room! Unfortunately, sprawling out on the bed was not an option as I had layered myself in all the clothes I brough on the trip-- my fleece, my parka, my REI gloves and my socks-- to fend off the valley's cold night air! That's the life of the valley-- freezing nights of near zero degrees and then a strong sunlight during the day. It's the weather that makes the valley perfect for harvesting grapes (hence the town's name, Pisco). On my last day with the Frenchmen in the wine valley, we drove to Cochiguaz. Actually, Gabriela drove us in her little pickup truck with her 10 year old son, Cristobal, and his little friend Pablito by her side. I rode in the truck's back with four other adults-- Vincente, Savas, Claudia the historian, and Fernando Rodriguez the poet (also guests in Gabriela's home). The view during our ride was incredible! We barreled through the valley in the little truck. At times, I thought the car wouldn't make it and imagined my body bouncing out of the truck and into the ravine, but the fall air was fresh and the sunlight made the ride very sweet. The famous Chilean poet, Gabriela Mistral, grew up in Monteverde, a neighboring town in the valley. The poet told us that Mistral's poems describe the aridness of the region and the contrast between it's beauty and harshness. We admired Rio Elqui when reaching Cochiguaz an hour later. We also stopped by Spa Cochiguaz and drank jugo natural (blended fresh fruit juice). At the Spa, they were selling necklaces made of marfil vegetal, a material derived from a plant similar to a palm tree. We had just enough time when we returned to Pisco Elqui to eat lunch before heading to La Serena. I opted not to have a completo and tried humita for the first time. Huma is ground corn wrapped in some kind of leaf, very much like a tamale without the meat. I ate it with ahi (Chilean hot sauce) and Chilena (chopped tomatoes and onions). Savas, Vincente and I arrived in La Serena just before my next bus to Antofagasta. Luckily, my card functioned at the ATM this time and I was able to pay back my French friends as they supported me the entire weekend (whether they wanted to or not, I'll never know, but that's the way it went). So, in reality, I saw no more than the bus terminal in La Serena. So, I'll have to travel back to Region 4 some weekend and visit La Serena una vez mas! All I have our my pictures, Fernando's book of poems (personally signed to me!), and my memories-- but it was all worth the trip!