I'm almost ready to do it...

I've been in Casa SIT for 9 hours now. You'd think that that would be an incredible time in order to get work done and take a huge chunk out of my load. You'd think that!

Really I've spent the day here (because I had an interview, but the guy is sick and forgot to tell me, and then because I wanted to work, then it wasn't worth going home before the dinner I've got in half an hour) working for a little while, browsing the Lonely Planet forum, working for a second, looking for sites about Patagonia, browsing facebook, maybe working, gossiping with Rossanna, going on a search for a delicious manjar treat (manjar is directly translated as delicacy.. perfect), and maybe working. Eh, I worked a lot this weekend, it's all good.

The truth is, I feel like I could write my paper at this moment and so have little motivation to go put myself in really awkward and vulnerable places to gather the perspectives of the people. I really just need to talk to graffiteros, and that doesn't generally happen in the middle of the day.

Except for this guy. My new best friend. Margs and I went to south Santiago Centro to talk to people about carabineros and graffiti, and when walking back to the metro ran into him. I could hardly talk to him I was so excited! First person at random in action. Paradise! The guy on the left does images, and the guy on the right is a tag artist. He really gave me a whole lot more respect for tag. Apparently there are whole unspoken laws about it in and among the community of artists, and they're not conglomerations of lines, but rather designs inspired and driven by the artists own experiences. His always include the words 'ideas.' Look for it.

We met a lot of really interesting people, who were all more than willing to talk to us about their opinions. It's amazing how open people are with complete strangers, and especially with people who are obviously coming from a whole different background and set of ideas than they are. Two old men on the street talked to us about how bodies had to be burned during the dictatorship (that or how people set themselves on fire... was that really the reflexive they were using?) and an old hairstylist ranted about how foreign influences are screwing up the economy and social heirarchy in Chile, making delincuency rates rise and making her son's occupation (carabinero special forces) that much more dangerous. Once you scratch the surface of anyone, you're bound to found answers to questions you never had.

We also saw some really incredible art, most of it tags, covering every public wallspace. Here's an example of why it's so amazing to study a subject in depth. This picture to you guys looks like the graffiti artist wearing something weird. But from this, I know that the artist is probably a Socialist and participates in protests, usually on the violent side, and that he is most likely late teens to early twenties. He probably is also a biker. That's just the part of the code that I know... Think about what else this could mean. And what about the murals that are more complex, or have different images? Also one of the reasons why graffiti does not achieve the political and social goals it sets out for.

This weekend we cooked again, woohoo! I am really discovering the joys of cooking. I was trying to get us all started, getting pots and such, and David made some comment about how I must be starving. I wasn't - I realized that I really just wanted to stir that chicken, to sniff out the right spices, to watch the onions change color. It's incredibly fulfilling and gives me this warm and happy feeling inside. Or maybe that's just the good company I associate it with. Anyways, this time we did Mexican food at David's house, it was delicious, and we even found Corona! That really reminded me of nights at Cosmic. We were all going to go dancing afterwards, but since we didn't start cooking until 9:30, we didn't finish up with dessert until 3. I have to admit I'm getting more used to the Chilean way of doing weekends... It's not just about staying out late. It's about making the time that you have last as long as you can. They never hurry through anything, and will often opt for a conversation instead of getting something done. So when we get together, even if we start when the sun is still up, often we won't feel the urge to leave or get on to something else until much later than we 'should' have. You can feel this sense of things everywhere. I went to one of my interviews the other day, and the guy I was going to talk to brought his buddies from the TV station. We went and bought sandwiches, talked about fútbol, then the station, then cigars and digital radio, then whatever else. When we got there, Cristian laughed and told me he hoped I didn't have plans. I've learned my lesson here - my day was free.

The guys at the interview yesterday (which is the tomorrow of some of this entry... I didn't finish. Yay for internet saving capabilities!) are also the perfect example of how incredible people here are. I didn't make them unnatural in any way, and they did the same for me. They kept joking and talking and arguing like all friends do, including me in almost all of it. They did threaten me once - when I tried not to eat the half-sandwich they offered me. I had two choices - eat it, or leave. Gotta love that hospitality! It was also assumed that I was coming back to help out with their programs, which I am, but tonight would have to go alone so didn't go. My director forbade me.

Speaking of director... I met with him today, seeing as he is acting as my advisor now. He pretty much pointed out all of the really interesting things about my paper that I was skirting around, and now I am going to restructure it almost completely. (I would say have to, but I'm loving it!) It's all the same information, and I can still use almost all of my info/interviews, but I have to go back and reanalize them from this new perspective. The weight of the new topic would frighten me if I didn't recognize the fact that I am a student doing a study for less than a month. That said, René told me that if I can pull this paper off the way it's proposed, I could start the beginnings of social revolution. My paper has to do with alternative communication as a voice for the parts of society that are nonrepresented in a'liberty of expression' democracy.

Democracy is an idealogy. This amazing man pointed out to me that the only difference between a doctrine and an idealogy is that within an idealogy, the system works to hide the elements of itself that are contradictory. Think about it. Apply it to life. Here's an example. Chile claims that with democracy came liberty of expression and representation for all. However. All major TV channels and newspapers are owned by the extreme right, some of whom hosted concentration camps or torture centers in their buildings. The government will give no no-strings-attached funding to community methods of communication (which are almost always from the Left) because of who knows why. The structure of the electoral system here has somehow prevented any representation of the not-surprisingly large population of Communists in Chile. They have a bipartisan system (more or less) - one from the right, and one from the center-right.

At first look, we all think that the growth of democracy in Chile is a fantastic thing. But it doesn't work. Now let's look at another country. The United States? How's that working?

The picture above says "Histories that never happened, for fear of making sense."

Here's a picture of me in Valpo listening to Michelle Bachelet's State of the Union address (or the equivalent). All the streets were closed, they wouldn't let us in to Congress (but why? We're not extranjeras or anything..)

I don't know if I've written about this in here, and if I have forgive me. This is one of the most influential yet subtle realizations I have made during my time here. 'Democracy' is not synonymous with 'government.' In fact democracy is really just one way of looking at things. You can have a society that is as far away from democracy as you can be, and that society can be happier than we are, and can run smoother than we do. It's all perspective. My friend Abel lived four years in Cuba, and wants to go back even after he's seen the 'American dream' style of consumerism. When we asked him how it compared, he refused to do it. There is no comparison, he said. They are completely different. How can we pretend to know that our way is better, or that we can assume to know 'better' than their government?

Also, side note, did you know that Cuba has a representative government compelte with Congress and all that jazz? That Fidel is a just a figurehead? That the people love Fidel, and the system, and want it to continue? Maybe I'm just showing my ignorance, but I find it amazing that I always thought that Fidel was a heavy-handed dictator. We need a revolution.

One of the founders of the community channel I talked to told me this: First you start the communication revolution. Then you start the social revolution. You can't start the social revolution if the people don't know anything.

Let's change it up, ladies and gentlemen.

Long political offwind. Sorry. Margs and I went to Valparaíso on Monday. We talked with a lot of scary-looking carabineros and realized that they are all amazing people. Nice, intelligent, looking out for people. One captain that we spoke with showed an incredible amount of self-awareness and social consciousness. He pointed out that Chile is in a cycle of violence, a cycle that every country is in to some extent. The way it goes is that one side raises the bar and gets more fierce with the other (we'll say gvt). Then the people have to react with great violence in order to enact change. The government becomes more violent, so on and so on. Eventually you are left with a military government that solves everything with violence.

People down here also consider Bush to be the winner of a political coup. Some say military. Think about that.

Whoops, another political branching off. Too easy down here.

Valpo was amazing. It was incredible to be able to breathe again. Right now in Santiago, it's rare to see the mountains. When I got here they loomed over half of the sky. It's gross. But Valpo... ah, the ocean! Good food, nice cops, great views, amazing friends, and a day to relax. We had to wait two hours for the bus back, but spent it dissecting English, gossiping about boys, discussing the meaning of life, and devouring papas fritas.

We like cheesy photos. Here I am in front of the place where they held the day-long ceremony - replete with speeches, the Cueca, and the army on parade - around the State of the Union. (And yes, I know it's not called that but I don't know what they call it and that's our equivalent.) I could have seen Michelle Bachelet!!!

All in all, it's starting to get cold. Debra should be buying my plane ticket to Peru in about 30 minutes. Maybe by the time I get there I'll have some sort of travel plans. The crew is all rolling back to Santiago in five or six days. I'm excited. I'm sad. I'm going to try and convince my Chilean brother to travel with me for the week I'm solo. I realized that I'm going to miss him terribly, and we are just now getting to the point where we can really talk. I also might try to be in Santiago for Lorena's birthday. También le voy a echar de menos.

Being here in this atmosphere, in this program, studying what I am with the people who are helping me... At times I feel like everything is political in some sense. We exist in society, which is run politically. Even culture is politically driven, and our expression of ourselves. There is no way to ever be completely happy with it. But there are definitely ways to make it the best that we can, for everybody. And I'm going to do my best.

"Smile! You too can change this prostitute world."

Salí en la noche...

Things have definitely started looking up.

First of all, I have something muy bacán and utterly awesome to tell you, but I'm going to wait until the end so you have to read the whole entry! bwajajaja

I realized that one of the main things that was getting me down and angry was my project. Now, this is completely rational because I have a very difficult project to achieve and my consejero is useless. Was - now I have no consejero. But that's a different story. So last Thursday I spent nearly the entire day just sitting and thinking about my research and what I've found out, what I think, what the books have said... And I figured out that I have some very strong opinions about graffiti and political art that were getting in my way. Once I discarded these prejudices, my work started to flow much more easily and the connections started clicking into place. While I am not happy at all to be writing a paper that is contrary to my own opinions, I guess that's one of the disadvantages (benefits?) of doing research in the field. You're always being challenged.


Another thing that made that one week awful is that I had a huge case of the awkwards. They went away, as much as they ever can with me.

Friday night Marguerite came over and we watched some strange Helen Hunt movie with my mom until she fell asleep, knitting still in her hands. It was good to sit and relax and just feel comfortable there for a while. When everyone you're with is either a new friend or doesn't really understand you, that good old I-can-walk-around-in-the-morning-and-not-care-if-my-hair-looks-funky feeling is rare. While sipping wine from coffee mugs and chatting on my floor, my brosef races in, races out, and invites us to a university party. University parties here, by the way, are like a big house party of ours. All your buddies are there, people are walking around with boxes of wine or beer or whatever, they're smoking... except it's usually in a big courtyard or a huge awesome room, with cool lights and a great DJ all night. And I'm talking from 11 to about 5. So they're rocking. Margs and I danced like madwomen! They played salsa, so naturally. I also got to hang out with my brother (I almost got him to dance, even) and we met a bunch of his buddies. Afterwards, we went to La Bamba with Tomás. Guys, hate to say it, but I have found better end-of-the-night food than Cosmic. These things are huge - they're called AS, and they're real beef, fresh tomatoes, avocado, mayo, and ahí. ooommmmyyyggoooooddd. delicious.


Saturday I celebrated Mother's Day with my fam here, and afterwards we went apartment shopping. It was really fun. Besides the fact that my family rocks all around, I really felt like a part of it all. They were asking me what I thought, and in every blueprint it was "my room, your room Cristobal, and this one for Abi when she comes to live with us." All in all a very good, relaxing day.


We cooked again on Saturday, this time in Elizabeth's house, and we opted for good old hamburgers. With avocado. Naturally. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, all of the girls together laughing and joking and talking about how frustrating all of our projects are. We've started voicing aloud thoughts and ruminations about project direction. It's amazing how much simply putting something out into words instead of on paper can help you get it all organized, especially now when we've all got tons of information and no method to channel it all down. Margs and I went and played on a playground afterward. Awesome.


There is no way for me to express how much I love my group. Each day or week brings a new dynamic into it all, or some incredibly development. I can't believe that in a little over two weeks I'm going to be leaving most of them. I refuse to think about it. Every single one of them has their own gifts and their own contributions to who we are now. There was one person at the beginning that always bugged me. It got to the point at times where I would move at a table so I wouldn't get too irritated and disrupt the evening because she was next to me. Then I got over myself. I realized there was no point in being that was with someone who is comfortable with who they are, and that I should stop being so judgemental and give her more of a shot. She still has habits that grate me, but now it's just a part of who she is, and they don't bother me so much. She's got a lot of insight and amazing aspects to her as well, and I was blinded to that. I want to tell her the effect that she's had on me because of this, and how much she has helped me with my project, but how do you walk up to someone and say "You used to annoy the crap out of me, but now I think you're wicked cool." It doesn't happen.


Sunday we had an asado. (social heaven, no?) We cooked up some pizzas, watched the Matrix 3, played circus games and sang pop songs. (This is why we love Chilean boys - not only do they like to impersonate boy bands, they also like to sing along to them.) After lots of hanging out and kind of soupy brownies, we decided to go dancing at Maestra Vida, a dance club that has free salsa on Sunday nights from 11 to 3. Perfect! That was really incredible, especially since two of the guys we were with are quite possibly the best dancers I have ever had the pleasure of moving to the beat with. Here we have, from the left, David, Niko, ?(shoot)?, Kevin, and Alejandro.


Monday started swift. Went in to Casa SIT to get some work done and had a contact handed to me by Rossanna. Went that afternoon (poor, dangerous neighborhood at dusk. Yikes. My colectivo driver was named Oscar and wore this incredible old felt hat, wizard glasses, and a salt and pepper beard. We chatted like old buddies the whole ride, and he wouldn't let me pay him. Incredible people are everwhere.) and the woman gave me another contact and some good information. Next day I went back to Casa SIT to get some more work done, and Rossanna handed me another contact. Went that afternoon to meet with him, and ended up with an hour-long interview of quality talking. That I understood in total. More contacts. Something very excited that you're still waiting to hear about. Pumped!


Watched Spiderman 3 in Niko's house, which is really a hostel that he lives in by himself. Whoa.


(Here's a picture of us after the marathon carrete last weekend... David's face pretty much shows how we all felt after dancing until 6:30 in the morning: delirious and Dali. These are hte two really incredible dancers - David and Abel.)


Wednesday I went back to La Legua to meet with this other guy, and he never showed. Bummed. But I spent some time while waiting talking to this incredible store owner right next door who lives above her tienda and is working hard to pay her kids' ways through college, which is a rare thing if you come from a neighborhood like this one. She talked to me about the work of the youth in the community, radiating pride at the strong values and communal spirit they all shared, and assuring me that nothing would happen to me in this neighborhood. When I left she gave me a big kiss and told me to come back and see her. Again, incredible people everywhere.


Wednesday I also had an interview with this old Communist who sells earrings on the street, and who is really quite interesting and involved in the cultural side of Santiago. We ended up having a bit of an argument about the purpose and effect of graffiti and political expression in general, and it was pretty fun. He also talked to me a lot about how Santiaguenses always go to hotels to have sex, and how the women are much more demanding now, and how Italian women are even more demanding, and oh when he was in Italy! ...That was a little uncomfortable.


(Here's a picture from Debra's birthday with, from left, Debra, David, Alejandro, Santiago, Theresa, Jorge, me, and Lauren. It was cold. I am not normally Babushka.)


Thursday was awesome. My project is finally organized in my head, and is just waiting the last bits of real-time and observation. Margs and I went to Bravissimo and got the special, two flavors in a bath of chocolate, for the price of one flavor. I wonder why I'm getting fat. My brother and I spent some time chilling together when I got back... I'm really going to miss that kid. I feel like I don't know anything about him sometimes, but at other's like I know exactly what he's thinking. Not to mention he's one of the most caring people I've ever met.


Now, are you finally ready for this muy bacán and incredibly awesome thing? Last night I went out in the darkness to paint with one of the brigades. Paste, really. I went out with Chacon, who are responsible for the many huge poiltical banners that call for governmental responsibility and social involvement and leftist ideas. They're everywhere, and I've always wondered how they got there, who does it, blah blah. Well, it's five people who spend the week working their jobs and living their lives, and painting banners on the side. Everything Thursday night they take all of these banners, a mixture of soda caustica and flour, and they go out pasting. It's almost just like you would imagine... a small group of people in dark clothes and hats crammed into an old beat up truck, buckets of paste in the back and the banners under the seat. You pull around into a corner, everyone hops out and is in action. Glue, glue, glue (with rollers), guy comes behind with the banner, hands up brush up get that stuff smoothed down don't tear it almost done and we're walking away. Get into the truck, on to the next, joking and talking about your wives or girlfriends or the webon that didn't show up last week or the march next Monday. All of the banners are pasted in the center of the city, and it was only around 11 so there were people still up. We pasted one on a major road, turned around at the finish to see lots of cars stopped at a red light staring at us, and a packed bus stop of blank and somewhat confused faces. And we just walk away. Social change in the making. We had two people come up to us - the first to declare that he fought against Pinochet, and what were we trying to accomplish? How could this do anything? What was the point? I was confused about that because it seems like he would recognize it's pretty much the only way for a leftist party to make their views heard, seeing as there is no representation in the government. The other was a young guy begging to know how Chacon does it, and if they can help his banner group get off the ground. When the cops drive by, you just start walking away. It was a great night. Sometimes it felt like a game, like what we were doing wasn't real, or that it was something we do to fill a role, like what Marguerite was saying yesterday. Like this is just what the Communist party does, they go out, they paste their banners (we ran into another section of the PC pasting too), and then the banners get ripped down. But a very cool experience. It's very interesting to know that an operation that appears so large and covers so much of the city, that so many people see, is really just five guys working out of a basement.

Marguerite and I are now inspired to paint a mural on the uncomfortable white walls of the institute. We're thinking something inspired by Reading Rainbow - bright colors and a butterfly. Te parece?


Two more weeks... It's hard to imagine. This has been such a formative time in my life, and is a place (physically, emotionally, mentally) that I'm not sure I want to leave. The people, Chilean and EEUU, the places, the lifestyle, the language... I'm going to miss it all. And it's not like I get to see all my buddies at home after this. Oh no. It's simply another beginning. In three weeks' time I'm going to be a free woman, roaming South America with just the pack on my back. I'm really excited for that too, except right now we don't have plane tickets to Peru, or a plan of where we're going, or any idea whatsoever of where we're going to sleep. I guess that will all come when we need it the most. Hopefully. It's hard to plan when Kira and the others who are going to Peru are all in Buenos Aires, busy with their lives, and me busy with mine. Wow, time flies.


I'll leave you all with this characteristically long entry... I have work to do that I haven't been doing for several days now. I love you all, and hope that your summers are well on their way to being memorable!

Coffee headaches assualt beautiful mornings

It's been a while since I've written in here, and I have to admit it's not because I haven't had the chance. Rather, several times I have sat down to give you all the news, and have decided against it because the mood wasn't right. The mood still isn't right, but if this is indeed to let you all know what life is like down here for me, then it should include the bad times with the good.

The truth is, this period of the semester started out fabulously. I don't know what happened, but something clicked and all of a sudden it was a social paradise! I was hanging out with a lot of Chileans my age - we went to an asado with a group of buddies, to the march en el Día de los Trabajadores, to grab some chelas (beers), dancing, all sorts of things. And the amazing part for me was that the language wasn't a stress factor. For that first week I was just existing and not worrying about the words coming out of my mouth because they just seemed to be coming. It was like our Spanish teacher said the first day - our learning process is like an upside-down pyramid that you're filling with sand. At first it fills up very quickly, but thenthe higher it gets the slower it goes. Sometimes you don't even notice that it's filling up. I just realized that I've slowly been pouring sand into this upside-down brain of mine. Now the pendulum has swung back. Oh well.

The march was really amazing. Protests in the States have a lot to learn from Latin American manifestations. Banners, flags, vendors, live music, performance art, cheers, chants, costumes, and over seventeen thousand people. It was the first time ever - even in the States - where I felt really comfortable and passionate about being in the march. Many times in the States I feel like the demonstrations are too partisan, and it puts me on edge. Here there is no sense of separation entre the groups, but more an overwhelming sense of community power. This march was probably a little more so too because it was to honor and protest the situation of the workers of Chile, who are in a bit of a tight spot at the moment. Hence, very strong emotions and a lot of community involvement. Our Chilean buddy Tomás told us before hand that there was a distinct point in wihch the march got violent (last year was pretty horrendous) and that when he told us to leave, no questions were to be asked. He gave us the signal when Illi Illuminati went off the stage, and five minutes later we were seating ourselves in a cafe watching on TV the police terrorize protestors with their tanks of tear gas. Good timing, I'd say.

Going to the march, listening to the talks, chatting up people all served to push me a little further down the road to declaring myself Socialist. That actually makes me feel good too, because I've never felt comfortable saying I'm a Democrat. This slow-growing revelation stems from something that I've realized since being here - that so much of my thoughts and prejudices I didn't know I had have their origen in the fact that I am Estadounidenses. For example, Communists are not bad people. Anarquists are not always violent (actually, I agree with a lot of their ideals). Globalizacion is not the great thing it's cracked up to be. A lot of concepts (mainly political, gotta say) have crossed my mind and challenged me to pick them back and look again, to examine where my emotions are coming from. Tomorrow I'm going to meet some of the Communist youth to solicit their help. I'm going to chat them up on their beliefs, naturally. When else will I get the chance to talk to someone so proudly and clandestinely Communist? Certainly not in Pittsboro.

My project started off really well - I read a lot of theory to get a good base on it and it really opened up my eyes to a lot of elements of the theme that I hadn't thought of before. Now I think it's going to change again, but my current question is how the parties/supporters of the left use graffiti as a means of provoking or strengthening social educacion and awareness en today's society. Underneath that, of course, is an analysis of informal and non formal education and how graffiti fulfills the role of communicacion. All with a focus on leftist parties. Which I thought was going to be cool, because I could chat up the Juventud Comunista, el Partido Socialista, la Fuerza Anarquista, etc. Except, oh wait, I'm just a foreign student asking them for contacts of people who do illegal activities. Whoops.

(If there's another protest, I'm talking to them this time... This is stenciling, and there are some pretty fantastic ones around the city.)

That's where it gets frustrating. I didn't meet with my advisor until Tuesday, and he didn't help me out at all with this aspect of my project (or really with the structure at all, just gave me books on the brigades and told me we'll visit some this weekend). So I just don't know what to do with myself this week and have been sitting around a lot. I went into the city to talk with some people about graffiti, and it's just really freaking hard. Hard enough to approach strangers happy with their day in your own language. I actually met someone last night who was in the middle of spraying and got to talk to him for a while, but being as tontosa as I am I was so excited about meeting him I forgot to get contact info. Great job, right Abi?

It's just been a tough week. As if it's not bad enough to be two months away from my family and all of my closest friends, the switch to the independent project meant that, wait, what is this? My closest friends are leaving? So now the people in whom I always confided in South America are now beyond reach. That and having nothing to do give me lots of time to think about the over two months that I still have left (which is really amazing, but at the same time not.) Insult to injury is that I hit it off with a guy last week and things were awesome, but I'm awkward, and this other girl was funny. Same in all languages, I guess.

OK, I'm being overly pessimistic. It's really not horrible. I've been spending a lot of time with my family, and my Spanish with them is definitely improving. I've realized that I'm pretty bad at talking whenever I'm in a situation that typically makes me nervous or uncomfortable (new people, confrontation, yadayada). I've also realized that I'm almost a whole different person. I can't joke in Spanish, nor can I tell stories without stumbling over every conjugation, and I just don't talk very much. But this will all change, I'm hoping. My Chilena mom almost got abducted by aliens. That came from an amazing night of conversation.

I think I need to get away from the city. You couldn't see the mountains this morning because of all the smog.

We had a delicious dinner at my house this past Saturday that was a ton of fun. Tomás and David joined the SIT girls in Santiago for a grand old time, which was followed by a missed concert (my brother's, the huevon told me the wrong time), pool, a party with my brother's friends, dancing at a club where some friends work, then continued dancing in somebody's apartment that had an amazing view of the city. I got home about twenty minutes before Lorena got up. Whoa. Here's Tomás with the delicious fideos and chicken that we whipped up, complete with palta salad!

Last night was Debra's 21st birthday, and I finally got sushi. oh man. It was about time! I haven't had the staple raw fish of my diet in forever, and I'll be damned if this wasn't the best sushi I've ever had. Also followed by some beers and spontaneous dancing on the way home. Got home at five. Shoot me? But it was definitely a good birthday. We figured out weird things we can do with our bodies. Here are David and Debra being pregnant. I've got to say it doesn't surprise that the girl is better... She's sitting up straight, btw. That girl is amazing. We also had spontaneous singings of the Backstreet Boys and Britney Spears. Not only do Chileans singing in English crack me up, but it's so much better when they do it to such classically great music.

I also bought a bicycle. Ceeeeelebrate good times, oh yeah! I'm so glad to not have to use TranSantiago anymore, and now I have something I can escape on when I really need it. Except I don't have it yet, since I bought it off the Chilean CraigsList, and the woman hasn't called me back yet. Soon! Soon! No hallo las horas!

Entonces... Here is your update. Pessimistic, cynical, and dry. Not quite so eloquent as usual, but that's just the way the words are coming today. Tomorrow will be better, I'm sure, but I wouldn't want to deprive you of this side of things either. Most of the bad emotions come from the possibilities that I can see and my inability to realize them. So there are definitely worse things that can happen.

I miss you all and wish you all the sunniest of days in this, the beginning of summer! (lucky) I'm sure I'll be home before I know it, with all of you wonderful people, and then I'll be wishing I was back here! Swing on those Haw River ropes for me, sleep late, and maybe watch a sunset in the Appalachians. I love you all dearly! Have a fabulous weekend..

PS - We've had four somewhat major tremors in the past two days... does this in any way mean a big one's on the way? (crossed fingers)

It's getting colder, but the heart is always warm

I have returned from the countryside with only a few hundred flea bites, a pouty stomach, and one of the most profound experiences of my life.

Our second educational excursion was to the Mapuche pueblo of Cerro Loncoche ('mapu' is earth, 'che' is people , and 'lonco' is head in Mapudungun, so 'mapuche' means people of the earth and 'loncoche' means head of the people - think less literally. The hill has sacred significance for them, and the children made sure we asked permission and thanked the hill when entering and leaving its slopes.) This pueblo is located almost inside the small city of Makewe, where our plane arrived, but you would think that you were a hundred miles from anywhere. The air has a freshness that you cannot even imagine when living in Santiago, and the odors and sounds of the countryside are the only things that attempt to break through your own tranquility of mind. As if that would be a bad thing...

We lived with families again, but these families were all at or below the poverty line (as defined by the government..) in contrast with the middle-class families and students with whom we have shared habitation before. This in itself was a very new experience for me, and provided me with challenges and questions that may have been floating under the surface, but which become painfully potent with these amazing and amable (amiable? I don't remember which spelling is the english one) people. Greta and I shared a bedroom in the house of Yenny, with her husband, son, parents-in-law and brother-in-law. Mornings consisted of everyone gathered in the kitchen, where the wood stove kept the room toasty in comparison con the frigidity of the rest of the house. Fresh baked bread and palta is breakfast and dinner, spiced up with maybe soup or beans or rice for lunch. There is no heat, and running water only arrived five years ago, electricity three years before that. There are toilets a short walk from the house, but the plumbing has failed so they're practically useless, and the family has gone back to using their outhouse. All of the buildings were built by the family, and all except the house are full of pigs, cows, dogs, cats or sheep. The walk to the school is half an hour, to the hospital a bus ride of an hour or more.

Before we left, everyone told us that the Mapuche are a closed and private people, and that they would be very suspicious of us and not want to share their lives. On the contrary, they welcomed us with open arms, showing more generosity, curiosity and pure intentions than almost anyone I have met in Chile. Most of the older people speak Mapudungun, their dying language which is currently in the process of rescucitation. Alejandro, our grandpa there, spent the evenings teaching us new words in Mapudungun, which has a fluidity and beauty to it that many languages these days lack. Or maybe it's just his accent, which sounds like it's coming from the very depths of the earth, as if the sounds are not born in his throat and tongue but rather in his history, in his people, in all the knowledge and spirit that has been passed to him through generations, and which he now sees being lost in his grandson. They were more than willing to talk to us about the struggles they have experiences as an indigenous culture under attack by modern society, how they have attempted to adapt to the money economy and the loss of land, their conflicts with the government to regain said laid and to establish their proper place as citizens, the changes and disappearance of their very identity.

(Check it out... one of these beautifully free pigs... became this incredibly delicious slab of savory meat. This is what we had on the last night, and I don't think I have ever had meat that sublime. I mean, come on, that blood was coursing through veins that morning! You can't get any fresher, and you can't find any better quality meat.)

The kids are also uber cute. Our brother Jonás was adorable, of course (he's in the red). The children never wanted to get away from us! On Thursday we were supposed to have a class of English to augment their intercultural education (a special curriculum designed to mesh the new modern culture with their own, which includes classes of Mapudungun and traditional customs), but they ended up just taking us on long walking tours of the countryside and talking to us about their lives. One girl, who was probably around 11 years old, spent nearly half an hour telling me the myths and stories that suround Cerro Loncoche, explaining their significance to her people in the past and present. They relished in telling us about the plants that were growing everywhere, how to use them medicinally or why not to eat them and any stories they had about them. I was thoroughly impressed! It was great to be able to spend more than just an afternoon with them too, as has been the case in the other schools. We were really able to form relationships with all of the kids, to know their names and where they live and what they want to study and their favorite games (generally el Escondido o Paquitos, hide and seek or cops and robbers). They were curious and full of love, like all children, and genuinely endeared me to the place.

Here they are dancing a traditional dance for us. They even took a few of us up to be a part of it! Very amazing.

We also went to Puerta Saavedra, where the Mapuche of past (and sometimes of present) hold their religious celebrations. It was incredibly beautiful and powerful, and I am thankful to René to plan in about an hour to sit and ponder the significance and impact of the place. I feel like he's gotten to really know our group, and can see that we are all very thoughtful people who desire to find a connection to a place that surpasses what you see and hear, but rather to fully comprehend what that place IS, what it means, and how it affects us as both physical and spiritual beings. This was one of those times where we all dispersed without saying anything, finding our own place in space and time to exist. That's one of the things that I absolutely love about our group - we get each other. Everything clicks. René told us all before we left for the airport that we were one of his favorite groups, not only because we were intelligent and passionate, but because the chemistry between us is of a quality that he has never seen before in groups. He told us that we move almost as one body, everyone together and adapting to each other and the situation without conflict, but also without conformity. We are our own, and we are each other. Not exactly in those words, but he was speaking Spanish so ya know. It was very touching, and very true, and made our parting seem so much more pronounced.

I really can't believe we have already arrived at this point in our trip. Semester, whatever. Starting at noon on Monday, I will no longer have anything planned. No classes, no seminars, no meetings, no visits to schools. Thirty days lie in front of me that I must plan myself, in which I need to construct research replete with interviews and sources and observations, and I need to do it in Spanish. Tomorrow I also meet two men who might be my research advisor, and I have to hold interviews with them to see which of them I prefer. They're competing for me! haha Sweet, but intense. I'm also really excited to get started, it's just a question of how to begin, and how to fill my days! I don't think that second one will be a problem...

Here's a picture of Lauren on the way to the airport on Tuesday. It was so cold in her house she decided to wear her bathrobe out, and hence was truly riding in style! I love this girl. Just look at that face! This also illustrates how freaking early our program always has us leave a place... We were all practically delirious it was so early.

Another reason why I can't believe we're here is because this step in the program necessitates that we all go our separate ways. Yesterday we left Darren en el campo to deal with the fleas himself, and it felt way too much like a good-bye. Tomorrow Kira, Lauren, Brady and Greta get on a bus to Buenos Aires, and Liz is going to Valpo. These are some of my closest friends, with whom I have been with almost constantly for the past two months. I can't imagine them not being around. None of us thought of this day until we were hugging Darren good-bye, and all of a sudden it is too real. The past two months have been so profoundly ..profound. Every single person has left a mark on me in a way that will never be forgotten, and each has had some affect on my growth as a person while I have been here. I am going to miss them. This isn't goodbye, but it is. After this we'll only have maybe a week together, then we're all off to our summer plans spread across the nation and the globe. I always wonder what will happen after the desperdidas... we like to say that we will see each other soon, but sometimes life gets in the way. How do you guarantee that a piece of your heart doesn't get lost in the stream?

All in all, thinking about what lies ahead of me is very exciting. At times I start to think about the amazing thing happening at home, or things that will be happening... my dad sends me pictures of our yard in the spring (one of my favorite things) and I almost just want to be back there, sitting on the porch reading a book or swinging on the swings at the pond. At times I just want to come back right after the program so I can move into my house and start up at Carolina Adventures again, and of course see all of my incredible friends back home, who I can see changing and growing, and who I hope will surprise me at how easy it is to slip back in. Then I remember that I'm in South America. And you are all jealous. And I get to study graffiti and plan my own studies. Then afterwards I get to wander around Chile and Argentina and Peru, to see things that I could never imagine in my entire life if it didn't happen to me.

Last night I was blessed with the most graceful and wondrous shooting star I have ever seen. It birthed near the culmination of the blackened dome above me, falling slowly towards the cityscape and leaving behind a tail of orange and yellow and brilliant white. I believe it's a good omen. Incredible things will happen.

This rolling stone has no moss, and is rocking hard!

OK, first things first. Chile experienced a 7.2 earthquake early this morning. I woke up to Lorena saying "Abajo de la puerta! Abajo de la puerta!" which means "Get under the door!" My bed was shaking underneath me in a manner very reminiscent to the Exorcist, and there was a great thrumming in the air. Standing up didn't help much. Metaphorically speaking, it really shakes your world to feel something you always thought was stable suddenly, well, shaking. And doing it quite violently. After about 30 seconds it subsided, then came back weaker an hour or so later. Caused by a volcano, it itself caused a tsunami in the south, where I'm going to be in two days. Now that I've had that experience, thank you much, I'd like to not have it again! It was pretty cool though.

So I am back from Buenos Aires, and feel like I've lived a few seasons over in the past few weeks. A nice pleasant early fall in Santiago before we left, we jumped into a humid summer in BsAs, and now in Santiago it's winter. Sitting in my house, I'm wearing gloves, a scarf, jacket, and thick socks. It's quite good to be back though.

BA was pretty much the shit. (In a good way, you old fogeys!) I got my feeding problems figured out with my host girls, and after that we really started to hit it off. I spent many evenings sitting in the tiny kitchen drinking mate and trying to follow their jokes, teaching them english, gossiping, and asking for all the Argentinian slang. Here is a picture of the of them: Casandra on the left (we were the closest... she's studying medicine and when she comes to study in the States, she's going to visit me. She also gave me a big map of Argentina with a list of places to go, under the conditions that I come visit her on my way back through to return it, and so we can ir de hota!) Verónica is in the middle (can you say funky?) and Maia is on the right (she was gone as often as she was home... definitely a free spirit. Also carried her mate around all day in it's own special leather case. There's got to be something addictive in that yerba... no Argentine is seen without it!) We had a really good time together. It's strange how close you can get to people in only two weeks, and how much of that intimacy was achieved in the last two days of being there. I'm definitely going to keep in touch.

One thing about being in BsAs... it is good for your Castellano Confidence. They speak slower there than in Chile, and actually pronounce syllables. Upon arrival in the incredibly dirty city, all of us suddenly felt like everything we had learned suddenly clicked into place. De repente we were having conversations without really thinking about it, and not having to ask people to slow down or repeat themselves. The accent was a bit difficult to understand at first - with the 'zsh' for 'll' and 'y' and the 'vos' instead of 'tu' - but then it was equally hard to get rid of. I find it fascinating how much your situation has to do with your learning process. I picked up the Argentine accent and am now using it here in Santiago, not because I'm trying to hang on to it, but because it is engrained in my head. Because I was in a learning phase while there, and was making huge progress in my speaking abilities, the habits of the speakers around me influenced my speech much more than they would have if I had waited to go to BsAs until the end of the program. I still say 'ayer' and 'allá' and various others with the accent, which is fine by me.

I guess I had better inform you all of the major decisions that have gone down in the past couple of weeks. First of all, I have decided 10% to study graffiti in Santiago. When I described my thoughts and worries about both choices to René, he told me that from what I had said, I needed to stay in Santiago. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I was immensely more excited about studying art and society, and that I just wanted to go to Chiloé to live away from the city, and that prospect was very distant, blurry, and unknown. I can travel there to see it, and my ISP should be on something that really interests me. The more I came to terms with my decision, the more confident and excited I felt about it. I kept making realizations about people I could talk to to acquire various perspectives, and the interesting things they could share with me. The cincher was yesterday, in Santiago, when we were leaving the library. On a whim we decided to check out this public art exhibition we could see from the street, and when I first walked in I thought "This stuff is kind of in the style of graffiti, sweet." Well, it was an exhibit designed to take graffiti from the street to the exhibition room, highlighting four artists and including a whole section on the creation of a joint mural which was located - hey! - across from the library. (partially shown in the bottom picture... I might get to meet the people who did that!!) And it runs through the end of March. Can destiny smack you any harder in the face?

The other decision I have made is to stay in South America for another month. I was originally going to come home around June 23 to move into my new house and start an internship with Carolina Adventures at UNC. After falling in love with the Southern Cone and realizing how much I want to see here, I have decided to stay until around July 20, getting back to the States in time to go backpacking in CA, move in, and get things settled before school. I still have to hear from Lizzie to see how mad she is at me, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity (maybe). The plan is to buy motorbikes (or a car, not as cool) with my friend Kira and make a loop through: the south of Chile (Temuco, lake region, Puerto Montt, Chiloé), the south of Argentina (Bariloche, Angostia, Bahia Blanca), the north of Argentina (BsAs, Iguacú), then race through Paraguay and Bolivia to make it to Peru (Macchu Picchu for sure, and lots of other stuff we haven't planned), then come down through the north of Chile (salt flats, Atacama desert, the observatories) to make our flights in Santiago. Big loop, only about six weeks to do it in. We will make it work.

It's very strange to think that I have only been here for two months (UNC is in their final week of classes) and that the actual educational/hard work part of my semester hasn't even started yet. It's strange to think that for a whole month I will be directing my own education, my own research, my own Spanish, my own integration into a strange society. It's strange to think that for a month and a half I will be wandering around a foreign continent, almost flying by the seat of my pants, speaking another language, and seeing places I never even dreamed off. I have three more months here, and after two it has already stopped being a country I am studying in and has become the place where I am living. What will it be to me when I am getting ready to go home? I don't know the moment when Chile went from being exciting vacation country to being the place where I am comfortable, but eager to learn more. When I was sitting in the sun room the day after I got back to Santiago, I could feel it. Everything looks different now. I feel like I am approaching the streets, my days, the people in a very distinct manner than before.

In BsAs I had to good fortune to meet up with a few of my old Pittsboro buddies (who in truth continue to be buddies to this day): Eliza Jane Harris, Mason Philips, and Amos Vernon. It was quite good to see them, and not only because it gave me the excuse to eat savoury meat and drink delicious wine. Not having seen Eliza for so long was a bit unnerving, and I have to admit I was a bit nervoud to see her. She's been having this incredible exotic experience for four months, and I for two months, and we're both going to change, right? And we both did, but we both didn't. It was awesome to see her, beyond words! Mason I saw in Valpo, but of course it was fabulous to see him again, and Amos I haven't seen in ages, and he is the same but so immeasurable different, of course. We

spent two great nights together, chatting like old times and just enjoying the English company of familiar faces in new settings with a different glint to their eye. I could tell we had all changed, and it was awesome.

Here is a picture of our director and his wife while we were waiting to be assigned a plane in the BsAs airport during the worker's strike... aren't they adorable? He's pretty much the most amazing man, and she's equally incredible, and they go well together.

BsAs was very inspiring, as a whole. Our 'classes' were much more intriguing than a lot of those we've had before (the few actual lecture-type things we sat through) and all of our visits and experiences were mindblowing on some scale. I could go on for hours about the amazing things these schools and alternative facilities are doing, how they're overcoming the problems of poverty and such, how the government is ACTUALLY HELPING PEOPLE, how peoples' spirits never die. I could tell you about the computers that were brought in to the poorest neighborhood in BsAs so that the people could learn to be secretaries, or the children accompanying their mothers to hair-dressing class, or the girls who asked me to draw them pictures, or the little boy who kept asking where I was from and pretending to look it up in his math book, about the school that was full of marble sculptures done by the students, or the 15 year old who was almost more eloquent than me (and especially so in Spanish!). I could tell you about the houses without roofs and the kids living in the streets, who still come to school and who WANT to learn, about the 95 year old woman who not only possesses amazing clarity of mind, but also organizes a political movement and marches every Thursday afternoon demanding the return of her disappeared son of 30 years ago. Where are these things in the States? Why can we not all join together in a cause that unites us to be strong, inspired, motivated, powerful, human? Why do we insist on fracturing ourselves into useless details and gray areas? Can we not just stand up for our rights as human beings? The right to live and love? To eat good meat?

This next picture is to continue my discussion about the amazing people you meet without knowing it. Here is our director, René, and his best buddy and our subdirector in BsAs, Claudio. We all thought Claudio was a really amazing and caring guy, but a little bit short of the description 'cool.' While waiting in the airport to go home, René shared with us a little something that changed it all completely. I don't know if any of you have heard of a huge escape from a major prison during the Pinochet reign, but there was one. More than twenty high-profile prisoners (read: people who disagreed with the big P) worked for months to dig a tunnel out of prison. Yes, Shawshank Redemption style. It was complete with ventilation, a light system, and incredible feats of mechanics including but not limited to: hiding dirt in the ceiling (spaced perfectly so it wouldn't collapse), digging through the less than 3 meter space in between road and metro, and a length of more than you want to think about. These amazing people achieve this, escaped, and then headed on foot over the Andes into Argentina. Last Wednesday, Claudio finally received notice of the end of his exile from Chile. After 21 years, he is finally able to enter the land of his birth. And we didn't know any of this. Also, both of those men were once around 130 pounds. Don't believe it? Neither do I.

Now I want to talk about a universal theme: love. Guess what, Dad! Nope, I haven't fallen in love, but there is great danger of it happening to a couple of people on the trip. One of the girls in the group - Kira- met an Argentinian in a bar one night, talked to him for about 12 hours straight, and hardly left his side while we were in the city. He has invited her to come work with him at a snowboarding resort this summer, and if that doesn't happen he's going to come traveling with us (Bahia Blanca is where his family is from.) And it's not like a fling, which is both scary and exciting at the same time. Another girl - Greta - just had her pololo confess his love for her. The idea has been planted that she should get a job for the summer here and live in Santiago. It's a strange situation... when there's love in a continent that is not your own, you've kind of got to grab it by the horns and make it tell you what it wants, otherwise you're a goner and you might never come back. Either way you look at that sentence, it works. It's been interesting to see it all happen... we never can tell the moments that change our lives until one day, nothing is the way it was.

I think that's about it for me. Tomorrow we fly to Temuco to stay for five days with rural families and learn about the intensely different culture of the Mapuches. I can't wait! After that... we're all off. The work starts. Also the passion. I can deal with that. It's weird to think that after Friday, I won't see Darren for a month, and after Monday, five of the others. When you see people every day for two months, that sort of thing can't be expressed by the word 'shock.' I'm sure we'll all be more than fine though. That is the nature of our relationships!