It’s Saturday and it’s cold and windy… shocker. But, at least it isn’t snowing or raining. These are huge steps towards getting me out the door and into the heart of the city… well, the mall but regardless it’s out of the house. I love Saturdays. I think this is mostly due to the fact for the last five years almost every Saturday during the months of Fall (my absolute favorite time of year) I would be setting up shop outside of the Williams Brice Stadium grounds in order to reel in a victory for my Gamecocks…
we may have had a few loses intermingled in those victories.
I thought I was mentally prepared to miss my favorite time or year, Gamecock Football and Halloween… news flash I AM NOT. I have been obsessively youtubing, reading statistic (that I usually would have no interest in) and creating PowerPoint Presentations for my students using Football Season in South Carolina Photos to teach the phrase There Are, They Are, He is and She is:
Me: Students, how many people are in this picture
Picture- Me and the Divas holding a Carolina Flag/Towel after we stomped Clemson last year
Students: 7
Me: In a complete sentence students.
Students: 7
Me: Completos sentence
Students: a little more hesitant… 7 Miss (pronounced me-is)
Furiously scribbling on the board the word Sentence
Me: In a full sentence
Students: They are 7 seven girls
Pointing at the phrase There are and mouthing the words
Me: Not there are but…
Students: There are 7 girls Miss!
Jumping up and down
Me: Great job!
Me: What colors are they wearing?
Students: There are wearing red and black.
A slight pause on my behalf (I am re-grouping)
Me: Not there are
Student’s: They are wearing red and black
It’s all I can do to not hug each one of them right there on the spot.
I follow up these pictures with, Mi Universidad, football, and Go Gamecocks.
They seriously look afraid, as if these new words have entered the room and are threatening to beat them up. I usually try to avoid “the stricken face” as much as possible, which is impossible, but they need to understand the importance Gamecock Football in the United States
... haha.
I love you soooo much
me overlooking the Strait of Magallanas
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Who doesn't love a good quote every now and again...
Since having been in Chile I have been trying to embrace the local cuisine, culture, people, education system... etc, etc, etc. Well I have been fiercely sidestepping Chilean authors. I think this is very subliminal due to the fact that I am beginning to resent Chilean Spanish and my inability to understand it. Well, I am fighting my unconscious desire to read American authors (but I did check out Faulkner's As I Lye Dying yesterday from the American corner at the University library... I'm notta cold turkey kinda gal) and have started to dabble in the local written language. Pablo Neruda won the Nobel Peace Prize in the 70's, so he seemed like a good start.
“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way.”
-Pablo Neruda
“We are guilty of many errors and many faults but our worst crime is abandoning the children, neglecting the fountain of life. Many of the things we need can wait. The child cannot. Right now is the time his bones are being formed, his blood is being made, and his senses are being developed. To him we cannot answer 'Tomorrow.' His name is 'Today”
-Gabriela Mistral
The books that help you most are those which make you think that most. The hardest way of learning is that of easy reading; but a great book that comes from a great thinker is a ship of thought, deep freighted with truth and beauty.”
- Pablo naruda
“Don't cry when the sun is gone, because the tears won't let you see the stars”
-Violeta parra
“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way.”
-Pablo Neruda
“We are guilty of many errors and many faults but our worst crime is abandoning the children, neglecting the fountain of life. Many of the things we need can wait. The child cannot. Right now is the time his bones are being formed, his blood is being made, and his senses are being developed. To him we cannot answer 'Tomorrow.' His name is 'Today”
-Gabriela Mistral
The books that help you most are those which make you think that most. The hardest way of learning is that of easy reading; but a great book that comes from a great thinker is a ship of thought, deep freighted with truth and beauty.”
- Pablo naruda
“Don't cry when the sun is gone, because the tears won't let you see the stars”
-Violeta parra
Monday, August 23, 2010
"August keeps crying and she don't know why"
I have learned a lot about myself in the last few weeks, it’s as though the person that I’ve become over the last 23 years has been painted into a picture for me to analyze, scrutinize and memorize. I am learning how I think along with how much I love: lying in bed, writing, drinking coffee, watching movies, meeting new people, having long discussions about the inner workings of the human heart, and how food and music satisfy my soul. That I am deeply in love with: chocolate, natural beauty, running, and the idea that there is something so much greater than me. Simplicity I have found is not boring; it’s actually the thread that stitches our lives together. There’s a beauty in the unseen seems that line our lives. I believe it's God’s way of reminding us that without him we would never be whole, that we could never have been constructed. Our lives would merely be patches of cloth in a heap, there would be no beginning or even worse… no end.
i love you
i love you
Fast Times at Liceo Experimental
High school in English is hard, well high school in Spanish is much harder. But, I must say the same teenage nuances seem to find their way into the lives of my 7th-12th graders… boy/girl friends, awkward body parts, incessant need to be speaking out of turn, the ability to know everything; and those are the good kids. Ha, I’m just kidding… well kind of. The kids have all these troublesome teenage woes, but they aren’t that bad. In-fact I am quite enjoying my first experience as a high school English teacher, well except for the not speaking their language part. My classroom is usually filled with laughter, either the kids are laughing at my Spanish speaking inability or the crazy motions, drawings and words I am using to give them directions or basically just teach them English. If you’ve had the chance to see the pictures I posted of my classroom, take notice of the one of my white board. At the end of each class period before I erase my board I take about a minute just to look over what I’ve been writing for the last 45 or
1 ½. Usually, it makes me laugh and question exactly what the kids may or may have not learned during our lesson. Fortunately, my students are very helpful with my Spanish… on occasion I will offend someone or say something very inappropriate unknowingly , which they then have to explain to me … usually it makes them quite nervous. But, I feel the more time we spend together the less awkward it will become for them to tell me to always put the accent above my n in anos.
I’ll explain this… anos can mean two different things which is determined by the accent that goes above the n. The anos with the accent means years… Tiene viente y tres anos (with an accent) … the anos without the accent means buttholes, which is the one I wrote on the board. Again NEWS-TO-ME, my students kind of blushed on this mishap. But we got through it and I have a feeling I’ll never make that mistake again.
I love having my own classroom. It feels like quite the accomplishment; since for the last five years I have been trying to navigate my career and life destination at USC.
My co-teachers are exceptionally nice people, even for Chileans. I have four of these God-Sent personas. One of whom came by room today just to drop off a jar of peanut butter and lemon granola bars. She told me she was in UniMarc (like a Walmart) and thought of me. She made my day, by the end of school this afternoon I realized I had peanut butter smeared from the top of my elbow to my hand. Quite the feat, but when you don’t have lunch spooning out peanut butter with your fingers in-between classes seems like a splendid idea. My student’s took a great interest in my peanut butter and misunderstood that it was a gift for me and not them. You can imagine their little faces when I had to unscrew the lid and show them where’d I’d been eating the doughy substance with my fingers.
Well, to sum up: I love my kids. They rock. I love my co-teachers, much like their students they also rock.
My Spanish is slow but coming along. I am not using grammatically correct sentences but usually able to make my point or explain what I am doing. Yes, I spend most of my conversational time with people having to make an explanation for something I just said or did. Chilean people are very curious and awfully nosey. The other teachers, janitors, students and a few visitors walk by room and just stop to stare in the door. Depending on my mood is how I react to these guests. Usually, I don’t mind being treated like a zoo animal but on occasion I get a bit annoyed.
I love you.
1 ½. Usually, it makes me laugh and question exactly what the kids may or may have not learned during our lesson. Fortunately, my students are very helpful with my Spanish… on occasion I will offend someone or say something very inappropriate unknowingly , which they then have to explain to me … usually it makes them quite nervous. But, I feel the more time we spend together the less awkward it will become for them to tell me to always put the accent above my n in anos.
I’ll explain this… anos can mean two different things which is determined by the accent that goes above the n. The anos with the accent means years… Tiene viente y tres anos (with an accent) … the anos without the accent means buttholes, which is the one I wrote on the board. Again NEWS-TO-ME, my students kind of blushed on this mishap. But we got through it and I have a feeling I’ll never make that mistake again.
I love having my own classroom. It feels like quite the accomplishment; since for the last five years I have been trying to navigate my career and life destination at USC.
My co-teachers are exceptionally nice people, even for Chileans. I have four of these God-Sent personas. One of whom came by room today just to drop off a jar of peanut butter and lemon granola bars. She told me she was in UniMarc (like a Walmart) and thought of me. She made my day, by the end of school this afternoon I realized I had peanut butter smeared from the top of my elbow to my hand. Quite the feat, but when you don’t have lunch spooning out peanut butter with your fingers in-between classes seems like a splendid idea. My student’s took a great interest in my peanut butter and misunderstood that it was a gift for me and not them. You can imagine their little faces when I had to unscrew the lid and show them where’d I’d been eating the doughy substance with my fingers.
Well, to sum up: I love my kids. They rock. I love my co-teachers, much like their students they also rock.
My Spanish is slow but coming along. I am not using grammatically correct sentences but usually able to make my point or explain what I am doing. Yes, I spend most of my conversational time with people having to make an explanation for something I just said or did. Chilean people are very curious and awfully nosey. The other teachers, janitors, students and a few visitors walk by room and just stop to stare in the door. Depending on my mood is how I react to these guests. Usually, I don’t mind being treated like a zoo animal but on occasion I get a bit annoyed.
I love you.
Monday, August 16, 2010
escuela
I woke up this morning to the vacuum cleaner ringing in my ears. Well, this is something that shouldn’t bother me to much considering who my mother is. In fact, I was slightly perplexed when I opened my eyes and I found my walls to be bright orange instead of the pale green that decorates my bedroom back home. Is it really time for school again… I mean I feel like I never got a break from it. Although, I am now on the other side of the classroom and the one standing in front of dozens of children providing educational stimulation for the next four months. It’s somewhat intimidating to have fellow teachers asking me about my lesson plans and how I plan to teach English. Yikes. The educational system down here is somewhat… shall we say … different than in the States. First of all, the teachers switch rooms while the students stay in the same room all day. The first day I visited with my school I was confused ha, it took about half the day for me figure out that no my co-teacher did not have her own room. Well, luckily for me since I came through the English Opens Doors program provided by the Ministry of Education and it is mandatory that we have our own classroom, which I am very thankful for. I started decorating last week, but have yet to use the new room. For the past two weeks I have been co-teaching with four other teachers. I will still be “co-teaching” but half way through the class period I will take about 15 students to my room where I will teach them for about 45 min. More than likely the first couple weeks of this we will barely get through the role because just like Chilean Spanish people names are impossible for me to pronounce correctly. It’s strange but I have life here. I have a job, family, friends, and a city that I am familiar with. I love Punta Arenas, it’s the perfect size has pretty decent scenery and the people are friendly. I have gotten used to the stares at this point. All weekend I was with all gringos and people don’t know what to think when we are speaking English with our “blonde” hair and boisterous personalities. I had dinner Sat. with about six girls, well of course the restaurant didn’t open until 9 pm so we got there and ordered everything on the menu. We started with the Punta Arenas specialty, King Crab, and it cost about 8 bucks. No kidding. Okay, so Southern Chile has literally one good meal under its belt the Crab unfortunalty that’s where it abruptly comes to an end. We also ordered off of the tapas menu so we got big plates that we passed around family style… and here’s what was on them:
- Hot dogs on skewers
- A plate of papas fritas (fries) with eggs, small pieces of chicken and carne, carrots and peas
- Salt, doesn’t really matter what the food was because salt is the only/main ingredient
Oh yeah, bread. Duh. My host family thinks my bread obsession is hilarious. But, when there’s literally nothing else to eat pan and marmalade look pretty good. During every meal time mi mama serves everyone and then puts the bread bowl beside me. Mi papa has started warning me pan will make me gordo (fat)… and then he laughs and puts more on my plate. Well, again this should not surprise me at all considering who my father is, throughout my entire life whenever I would be in the kitchen eating my dad would poke me and yell Suiiii, as in little piggy. My Australian roommate and I have taken to searching the kitchen when the families gone for something, anything that we can recognize. We have yet to have good results. Susan has been a wonderful roommate and a helpful translator. Unfortunately, she speaks Australian. I know what you’re thinking, Merrette Australians speak English… duh. Well, they speak a form of English but apparently their use of idioms is much like the Chileans, as in they use words and phrases that actually make no sense to outsiders. So, whenever Susan may be explaining something to me our host parents said I have to in-fact translate her translation. My brain hurts, every night I am exhausted from just pretending to understand what’s going on all day. Luckily, one thing Chileans are fascinated over is karaoke. I know that I said earlier in the blog I would never be caught karaoke-ing, well I have eaten my words my friends, several times over actually. No meal is complete around here with singing karaoke as the postre (desert). I have now sung Guns and Roses, I will survive, Brittany Spears, Michael Jackson and several Latin songs that I don’t understand.
i love you
- Hot dogs on skewers
- A plate of papas fritas (fries) with eggs, small pieces of chicken and carne, carrots and peas
- Salt, doesn’t really matter what the food was because salt is the only/main ingredient
Oh yeah, bread. Duh. My host family thinks my bread obsession is hilarious. But, when there’s literally nothing else to eat pan and marmalade look pretty good. During every meal time mi mama serves everyone and then puts the bread bowl beside me. Mi papa has started warning me pan will make me gordo (fat)… and then he laughs and puts more on my plate. Well, again this should not surprise me at all considering who my father is, throughout my entire life whenever I would be in the kitchen eating my dad would poke me and yell Suiiii, as in little piggy. My Australian roommate and I have taken to searching the kitchen when the families gone for something, anything that we can recognize. We have yet to have good results. Susan has been a wonderful roommate and a helpful translator. Unfortunately, she speaks Australian. I know what you’re thinking, Merrette Australians speak English… duh. Well, they speak a form of English but apparently their use of idioms is much like the Chileans, as in they use words and phrases that actually make no sense to outsiders. So, whenever Susan may be explaining something to me our host parents said I have to in-fact translate her translation. My brain hurts, every night I am exhausted from just pretending to understand what’s going on all day. Luckily, one thing Chileans are fascinated over is karaoke. I know that I said earlier in the blog I would never be caught karaoke-ing, well I have eaten my words my friends, several times over actually. No meal is complete around here with singing karaoke as the postre (desert). I have now sung Guns and Roses, I will survive, Brittany Spears, Michael Jackson and several Latin songs that I don’t understand.
i love you
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
amore
Whoever said Paris is the city of love apparently has never visited Chile. These people wrote the definition on PDA, as in public display of affection… seriously you have never seen anything like it.
Example: While in Santiago I was in a cab on my way home from seeing a vineyard for the first time in my life. Feeling pretty pleased with myself I was looking out the window and admiring the beautiful mountain ranges, trees … and the couple making out in the street. Well, this was no ordinary couple mind you, these were the teenagers of Chile therefore they take their kissing very seriously. The chica was walking forward with her novio (boyfriend) walking backwards so that he wouldn’t have to take his eyes much less lips off of her, their arms were wrapped around each other and yet they were still managing to walk proficiently down the street… I was seriously impressed.
So, as you can see the kissing down here is no laughing matter. Each of my students has managed to wrap their little arms around me and planted a big one on my cheek. We were warned during our classes last week, but I guess until you have about 6 children crowding you for a kiss it’s a hard thing to understand. Here’s a mental image… I’m down here at the end (-9 degrees Celsius) of the world kissing the people of Chile with each hello, goodbye and nice to meet you… oh and eating bread con (with) queso.
I highly suggest adding Chile to your must travel list, because as I’ve been told, “anything can happen in Patagonia…”
I love you
Example: While in Santiago I was in a cab on my way home from seeing a vineyard for the first time in my life. Feeling pretty pleased with myself I was looking out the window and admiring the beautiful mountain ranges, trees … and the couple making out in the street. Well, this was no ordinary couple mind you, these were the teenagers of Chile therefore they take their kissing very seriously. The chica was walking forward with her novio (boyfriend) walking backwards so that he wouldn’t have to take his eyes much less lips off of her, their arms were wrapped around each other and yet they were still managing to walk proficiently down the street… I was seriously impressed.
So, as you can see the kissing down here is no laughing matter. Each of my students has managed to wrap their little arms around me and planted a big one on my cheek. We were warned during our classes last week, but I guess until you have about 6 children crowding you for a kiss it’s a hard thing to understand. Here’s a mental image… I’m down here at the end (-9 degrees Celsius) of the world kissing the people of Chile with each hello, goodbye and nice to meet you… oh and eating bread con (with) queso.
I highly suggest adding Chile to your must travel list, because as I’ve been told, “anything can happen in Patagonia…”
I love you
hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable... can anyone name the movie this quote comes from?
More than a cultural experience
We need to get some logistics down:
I live with Irena and “A”, they have a four bedroom house. It is about the size of an American one bedroom apartment.
Rodrigo, they’re grandson lives with them, he is 14 years old.
Susan, a fellow volunteer, is moving in tomorrow. She will be in the bedroom across from me. Susan is Australian and also speaks Spanish hogwash.
Irena and “A” have two sons, both of whom have moved out within the past year.
Patty, is one of Irena and “A’s” son’s girlfriend. Patty is an English teacher at another school and extremely friendly. She is Chilean.
Okay, so we got that down because I have a feeling the fun hasn’t even begun yet and all of these people will at some point or another become very vital in the understanding of my crazy beautiful new life… and yes I did happen to watch the movie Crazy Beautiful the other day.
I may have one of the best host families in the world, and this is no exaggeration. Mi mama only wants to take care of us. She cleans the entire house every day, sews and washes our clothes; along with cooking 2 gourmet Chilean meals... a day. To top it off she works a night job. Seriously, this lady needs a medal, it is quite astounding. Even though I speak no Spanish “A’s” humor is infectious and has my stomach hurting quite often. He is also bent and determined to teach me Spanish. The whole family eats lunch together around 1:30 but onces and dinner is just Rodrigo, “A” and me. We sit at the kitchen table and for about two hours each night they teach me Spanish using the dry erase board, dictionary, and any other appliance at hand. “A” is constantly holding up a utensil and pointing at me saying WHAT! (as in, what is this).
Example: Mi mama came home tonight with four Bon-Bons, one for each us. She got Rodrigo and me out of our rooms so we could savor them together. This family has very little and works very hard yet their joyful nature, overall happiness and love is something
i love you
We need to get some logistics down:
I live with Irena and “A”, they have a four bedroom house. It is about the size of an American one bedroom apartment.
Rodrigo, they’re grandson lives with them, he is 14 years old.
Susan, a fellow volunteer, is moving in tomorrow. She will be in the bedroom across from me. Susan is Australian and also speaks Spanish hogwash.
Irena and “A” have two sons, both of whom have moved out within the past year.
Patty, is one of Irena and “A’s” son’s girlfriend. Patty is an English teacher at another school and extremely friendly. She is Chilean.
Okay, so we got that down because I have a feeling the fun hasn’t even begun yet and all of these people will at some point or another become very vital in the understanding of my crazy beautiful new life… and yes I did happen to watch the movie Crazy Beautiful the other day.
I may have one of the best host families in the world, and this is no exaggeration. Mi mama only wants to take care of us. She cleans the entire house every day, sews and washes our clothes; along with cooking 2 gourmet Chilean meals... a day. To top it off she works a night job. Seriously, this lady needs a medal, it is quite astounding. Even though I speak no Spanish “A’s” humor is infectious and has my stomach hurting quite often. He is also bent and determined to teach me Spanish. The whole family eats lunch together around 1:30 but onces and dinner is just Rodrigo, “A” and me. We sit at the kitchen table and for about two hours each night they teach me Spanish using the dry erase board, dictionary, and any other appliance at hand. “A” is constantly holding up a utensil and pointing at me saying WHAT! (as in, what is this).
Example: Mi mama came home tonight with four Bon-Bons, one for each us. She got Rodrigo and me out of our rooms so we could savor them together. This family has very little and works very hard yet their joyful nature, overall happiness and love is something
i love you
horse of a different color
Wilddogs:
I haven’t mentioned the wilddogs yet in my blog so I am very excited to share. The wilddogs are real and they really do chase you. Not only do they chase the humans but they chase the cars, buses, children, police cars, street vendors… well you get the jist. While in Santiago last week one of the fellow volunteers was bitten by a wilddog and had to be rushed to the emergency room immediately, where she received at least three different shots including a rabies vaccination… poor Andrea. Well, they are protecting the streets of Magallanes as well, these suckers aren’t playing either… some of them clear my hips (haha… like that’s supposed to make you think they’re tall or something). I just try to avoid them because I worry I may be mistaken for a play toy or maybe they’re onces.
I know the collectivos have been a large part of my blog thus far but I have a pretty humorous story.
Yesterday (ayer) I was feeling pretty confident in my directional sense (by suggesting I have directional sense from the beginning you gotta know where this is going). Well, me and my direction sense made it downtown with no problemos… I did a little shopping, checked out the Chocolatte Café (an entire Café dedicated to Chocolate, these people know what’s up). Any who, it was getting darker so I felt like my adventure time was over and it was time to head home. I stood on the street where the Collectivos run and like clockwork I was climbing inside for my second solo Collectivo ride.
Again, you don’t have to tell the drivers where you’re going just get off at your stop. I have learned the longer you can keep people fooled that you know what’s going on the better off you’ll be, which usually consists of me not speaking.
So, off we go… towards Argentina. Well, let’s be real I had no idea until about 15 min. into the ride that we were setting off toward the nearest mountain range and that it wasn’t the right direction. So, I call my teacher friend, Patty, briefly describe where I think I am and she immediately said “give the phone to the driver, Mary”. Well, the driver had been trying to talk to me prior to this but I had been ignoring him... still pretending to be the strong silent type. Well, that was shot to shit. The phone was handed back to me and I was told, by Patty, that the Collectivo driver had agreed to take me home. Well, for the next 15 minutes the driver proceeded to make phone calls to all his friends and explain/share a laugh with them over the “stupid Americano girl”. Shamefaced, when I arrived to my house I handed him 600 pesos (it’s only supposed to cost about 100). Patty came over shortly after my arrival home and told the family about my “adventure”. Mi papa then took to the dry erase board in our kitchen to explain collectivos and how they don’t all run on the same route … well NEWS-TO-ME.
I may write a book and entitle it The Adventure’s of Miss Merrette Lane… that is, if I ever got the nerve to share all of my horrific/hilarious/idiotic tales.
i love you
I haven’t mentioned the wilddogs yet in my blog so I am very excited to share. The wilddogs are real and they really do chase you. Not only do they chase the humans but they chase the cars, buses, children, police cars, street vendors… well you get the jist. While in Santiago last week one of the fellow volunteers was bitten by a wilddog and had to be rushed to the emergency room immediately, where she received at least three different shots including a rabies vaccination… poor Andrea. Well, they are protecting the streets of Magallanes as well, these suckers aren’t playing either… some of them clear my hips (haha… like that’s supposed to make you think they’re tall or something). I just try to avoid them because I worry I may be mistaken for a play toy or maybe they’re onces.
I know the collectivos have been a large part of my blog thus far but I have a pretty humorous story.
Yesterday (ayer) I was feeling pretty confident in my directional sense (by suggesting I have directional sense from the beginning you gotta know where this is going). Well, me and my direction sense made it downtown with no problemos… I did a little shopping, checked out the Chocolatte Café (an entire Café dedicated to Chocolate, these people know what’s up). Any who, it was getting darker so I felt like my adventure time was over and it was time to head home. I stood on the street where the Collectivos run and like clockwork I was climbing inside for my second solo Collectivo ride.
Again, you don’t have to tell the drivers where you’re going just get off at your stop. I have learned the longer you can keep people fooled that you know what’s going on the better off you’ll be, which usually consists of me not speaking.
So, off we go… towards Argentina. Well, let’s be real I had no idea until about 15 min. into the ride that we were setting off toward the nearest mountain range and that it wasn’t the right direction. So, I call my teacher friend, Patty, briefly describe where I think I am and she immediately said “give the phone to the driver, Mary”. Well, the driver had been trying to talk to me prior to this but I had been ignoring him... still pretending to be the strong silent type. Well, that was shot to shit. The phone was handed back to me and I was told, by Patty, that the Collectivo driver had agreed to take me home. Well, for the next 15 minutes the driver proceeded to make phone calls to all his friends and explain/share a laugh with them over the “stupid Americano girl”. Shamefaced, when I arrived to my house I handed him 600 pesos (it’s only supposed to cost about 100). Patty came over shortly after my arrival home and told the family about my “adventure”. Mi papa then took to the dry erase board in our kitchen to explain collectivos and how they don’t all run on the same route … well NEWS-TO-ME.
I may write a book and entitle it The Adventure’s of Miss Merrette Lane… that is, if I ever got the nerve to share all of my horrific/hilarious/idiotic tales.
i love you
Conversations... of a sort
Around Punta Arenas:
Chilean: hey El Rubia (it means blonde girl, I think) or gringa (White girl)
Me: “No habla, No habla Espanol, No Habla todo Espanol, I don’t know, No… I don’t understand, please quit talking to me”
At School:
Chilean Child: You speak Ingles?
Me: Si
CC: Where you from?
Me: Estados Unidos
CC: Where you from?
Me: United States
CC: Where you from?
Me: Carolina del Sur
CC: ???
Me: South Carolina
CC: Teacher, Teacher what’s your name?
Me: chuckling. Merrette
CC: Teacher, teacher what’s your name?
Me: Maaaareeeettteee
CC: ????
Me: M
CC: oh, pretty
Me: Si
I need to share these conversations; it’s just mean to keep them for myself.
I have a new suggestion for those suffering from writers block… move. Just move somewhere that blows your mind and you won’t have a lick of trouble trying to find something to write about. I promise. I know I keep subliminally complaining about Punta Arenas which isn’t fair because one of my friends is on an island with only 600 people and three others are on an island with about 1500. Now, that would be constant laughter. Luckily, they do speak Spanish… well Mexican Spanish and from what I’ve been told is totally different from Chilean Spanish (because let’s be serious I don’t know ANY Spanish). So, pray for all mi amigos that are decorating the country of Chile with their pale skin, American Spanish and adventurous spirits.
Chilean: hey El Rubia (it means blonde girl, I think) or gringa (White girl)
Me: “No habla, No habla Espanol, No Habla todo Espanol, I don’t know, No… I don’t understand, please quit talking to me”
At School:
Chilean Child: You speak Ingles?
Me: Si
CC: Where you from?
Me: Estados Unidos
CC: Where you from?
Me: United States
CC: Where you from?
Me: Carolina del Sur
CC: ???
Me: South Carolina
CC: Teacher, Teacher what’s your name?
Me: chuckling. Merrette
CC: Teacher, teacher what’s your name?
Me: Maaaareeeettteee
CC: ????
Me: M
CC: oh, pretty
Me: Si
I need to share these conversations; it’s just mean to keep them for myself.
I have a new suggestion for those suffering from writers block… move. Just move somewhere that blows your mind and you won’t have a lick of trouble trying to find something to write about. I promise. I know I keep subliminally complaining about Punta Arenas which isn’t fair because one of my friends is on an island with only 600 people and three others are on an island with about 1500. Now, that would be constant laughter. Luckily, they do speak Spanish… well Mexican Spanish and from what I’ve been told is totally different from Chilean Spanish (because let’s be serious I don’t know ANY Spanish). So, pray for all mi amigos that are decorating the country of Chile with their pale skin, American Spanish and adventurous spirits.
“Just do your best, it’s the only way to keep that last bit of sanity”
Who knew food could cause such a disturbance in a household? I have my host family in a state of confusion/panic over my eating habits, they keep pushing food at me… as in literally sliding plates of pan (bread), jamon (ham), stews, and just about anything else they can find lying around to feed me. Well, you see in Chile their eating habits are drastically different than us ol’ Americanos. They skip breakfast, usually having just a piece of bread and a little instant coffee, there lunch is around 1:30, onces (pre-dinner) about 7:00, and then cenar (dinner) at 10:00 pm. My host mother (much like my own mother) wants nothing more than to take care of her little family (which now includes me) by: cooking, cleaning, and overall just making sure everyone is fed, warm and happy.
Here’s an example, I left my suitcase half unpacked and went out to explore the town on Tues., well I came home to a remade bed (as in she went in behind me and remade it), an unpacked suitcase (oh yeah, she unpacked my entire suitcase) and my clothes hanging on the line outside our little home (because she had taken it upon herself to do my laundry)… including my unmentionables. I was somewhat startled. When I walked into the kitchen she was waiting on me with food laid out across the table and yes you guessed it… pan, jamon and queso. There is only so many times you can tell this little lady no. I mentioned to her my love of fruit yesterday morning while we were studying our English and Spanish together at the kitchen table and when I came home from visiting my new school there were three baskets of fruit in the kitchen. Of course, I had to immediately eat a piece of each with her watching… which to be honest I was starting to get pretty hungry anyway; grilled cheese gets old quickly.
So, I am warm, fed and happy. What more could a person ask for?
My family, the Ida’s, are quite the hip Chileans. Mi mama listens to music all throughout the day. Mi papa came home last night from driving his Collectivo (I think I explained this prior, but it’s like a cab except it runs set routes all day) and turned on a DVD titled, The Best Music of the 80’s. We rocked out for a while; which means we pointed, laughed and spoke sentences the other didn’t understand. They’re big fans of karaoke around here so they have already told me to warm up my vocals chords because they want to hear some sangin’. I have a feeling after the one time they hear me I want be asked again.
So, here I am living amongst the natives.
While in Santiago it was easy to forget the reason I signed up for this great adventure. I was surrounded by English folks that spoke Spanish which left me disillusioned in the fact that I would eventually be all alone to fend/speak for myself. The Chilean Government footed our meals during our stay in Santiago which meant I pretty much got to eat whatever I wanted. So you can imagine my surprise when my host mother set down a plate of food in-front of me before handing me a menu and asking what I would be having. Oh gees.
I’ve walked around the city of Punta Arenas every day since being here and I look at the mountains then go walk alongside the beach and I am amazed, you realize I can actually look at the mountains while walking on the beach right? Usually, I have Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros playing on my Ipod, which I highly recommend you listen to incase you haven’t heard it yet. I am constantly lost, constantly confused and all I want sometimes is to curl up in my mom’s (Debbie Lane) bed and watch TV with her. Then I look around and I evaluate. I am a foreigner living amongst some of who have never had contact with the English language, or gringos. Haha. It kills that I am there first American experience… they just have no idea. My accent turns the little Spanish I do speak into hogwash. And guess what… Chileans don’t use the letter –S, they completely threw out an entire letter from the alphabet. Laughing, I am also constantly laughing, it’s the only way to survive. I am so happy, sad, confused, excited, and nervous all the time. It’s quite the natural high to be honest.
I love you and I want to quit missing you.
Here’s an example, I left my suitcase half unpacked and went out to explore the town on Tues., well I came home to a remade bed (as in she went in behind me and remade it), an unpacked suitcase (oh yeah, she unpacked my entire suitcase) and my clothes hanging on the line outside our little home (because she had taken it upon herself to do my laundry)… including my unmentionables. I was somewhat startled. When I walked into the kitchen she was waiting on me with food laid out across the table and yes you guessed it… pan, jamon and queso. There is only so many times you can tell this little lady no. I mentioned to her my love of fruit yesterday morning while we were studying our English and Spanish together at the kitchen table and when I came home from visiting my new school there were three baskets of fruit in the kitchen. Of course, I had to immediately eat a piece of each with her watching… which to be honest I was starting to get pretty hungry anyway; grilled cheese gets old quickly.
So, I am warm, fed and happy. What more could a person ask for?
My family, the Ida’s, are quite the hip Chileans. Mi mama listens to music all throughout the day. Mi papa came home last night from driving his Collectivo (I think I explained this prior, but it’s like a cab except it runs set routes all day) and turned on a DVD titled, The Best Music of the 80’s. We rocked out for a while; which means we pointed, laughed and spoke sentences the other didn’t understand. They’re big fans of karaoke around here so they have already told me to warm up my vocals chords because they want to hear some sangin’. I have a feeling after the one time they hear me I want be asked again.
So, here I am living amongst the natives.
While in Santiago it was easy to forget the reason I signed up for this great adventure. I was surrounded by English folks that spoke Spanish which left me disillusioned in the fact that I would eventually be all alone to fend/speak for myself. The Chilean Government footed our meals during our stay in Santiago which meant I pretty much got to eat whatever I wanted. So you can imagine my surprise when my host mother set down a plate of food in-front of me before handing me a menu and asking what I would be having. Oh gees.
I’ve walked around the city of Punta Arenas every day since being here and I look at the mountains then go walk alongside the beach and I am amazed, you realize I can actually look at the mountains while walking on the beach right? Usually, I have Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros playing on my Ipod, which I highly recommend you listen to incase you haven’t heard it yet. I am constantly lost, constantly confused and all I want sometimes is to curl up in my mom’s (Debbie Lane) bed and watch TV with her. Then I look around and I evaluate. I am a foreigner living amongst some of who have never had contact with the English language, or gringos. Haha. It kills that I am there first American experience… they just have no idea. My accent turns the little Spanish I do speak into hogwash. And guess what… Chileans don’t use the letter –S, they completely threw out an entire letter from the alphabet. Laughing, I am also constantly laughing, it’s the only way to survive. I am so happy, sad, confused, excited, and nervous all the time. It’s quite the natural high to be honest.
I love you and I want to quit missing you.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
it's the end of the world as we know it...
I saw the Pacific Ocean for the first time last night...
it was 11:30 and I had been on a plane for 12 hours trying to reach my final destination, Punta Arenas or what I will now be calling "home sweet home". We made three stops on our way from Santiago to Punta Arenas yesterday, and I now understand the full meaning of motion sickness with a side of inner ear problems... but hey we signed up for Patagonia so Patagonia is what we got, or that's what our contact Lorena told us. I don't know why I was so surprised last night when I was told I would be leaving the group and meeting my host family immediately, Surprise- English Opens Doors would be a more fitting name. So, after about a days worth of flying, eatting two plane meals and having to hold back throwing up on the Chileans surrounding me I met my only Spanish speaking family, FUN!
Um... culture shock, homesickness and the inability to understand how I ended up here came all rolled up together in the grilled cheese sandwich presented to me for breakfast. But, there's always a but ... I toured the city today, ate chocolate, saw the Pacific Ocean and came to realize I live at the end of the world. Life is looking up.
Last week in Santiago with the fellow English speakers I was surrounded by, city life, and overall general excitement it was easy to forget I was in a different country much less a different hemisphere. Today/last night... I was reminded very quickly. I am a complete foreigner, I look different and don't understand the language. yikes. my host family is amazing though, our mimes skills have already improved vastly, in fact the 14 year old boy living with us charaded (may not be a word?) how to get in a collectivo (a taxi that runs a route around the city it is much like a bus). He literally re-enacted how to get in, shut the door, tell them to stop and pay. If it hadn't been so imperative that I understand what he was miming I wouldn't have been able to quit laughing for days. My host family consists of an elderly couple and their grandson. I will have a fellow volunteer living with me starting on Friday, which I am very thankful for. Everything is new, brand-spanking new. Within the new-ness I am learning valuable lessons:
What a smile can accomplish
How we should savor the moment no matter if it's good or bad
How important it is to appreciate mankind
The beauty we are surrounded by everyday
How unimportant possessions are
how much it sucks when you don't speak the language
Friends are worth more than money could ever be
i love you
it was 11:30 and I had been on a plane for 12 hours trying to reach my final destination, Punta Arenas or what I will now be calling "home sweet home". We made three stops on our way from Santiago to Punta Arenas yesterday, and I now understand the full meaning of motion sickness with a side of inner ear problems... but hey we signed up for Patagonia so Patagonia is what we got, or that's what our contact Lorena told us. I don't know why I was so surprised last night when I was told I would be leaving the group and meeting my host family immediately, Surprise- English Opens Doors would be a more fitting name. So, after about a days worth of flying, eatting two plane meals and having to hold back throwing up on the Chileans surrounding me I met my only Spanish speaking family, FUN!
Um... culture shock, homesickness and the inability to understand how I ended up here came all rolled up together in the grilled cheese sandwich presented to me for breakfast. But, there's always a but ... I toured the city today, ate chocolate, saw the Pacific Ocean and came to realize I live at the end of the world. Life is looking up.
Last week in Santiago with the fellow English speakers I was surrounded by, city life, and overall general excitement it was easy to forget I was in a different country much less a different hemisphere. Today/last night... I was reminded very quickly. I am a complete foreigner, I look different and don't understand the language. yikes. my host family is amazing though, our mimes skills have already improved vastly, in fact the 14 year old boy living with us charaded (may not be a word?) how to get in a collectivo (a taxi that runs a route around the city it is much like a bus). He literally re-enacted how to get in, shut the door, tell them to stop and pay. If it hadn't been so imperative that I understand what he was miming I wouldn't have been able to quit laughing for days. My host family consists of an elderly couple and their grandson. I will have a fellow volunteer living with me starting on Friday, which I am very thankful for. Everything is new, brand-spanking new. Within the new-ness I am learning valuable lessons:
What a smile can accomplish
How we should savor the moment no matter if it's good or bad
How important it is to appreciate mankind
The beauty we are surrounded by everyday
How unimportant possessions are
how much it sucks when you don't speak the language
Friends are worth more than money could ever be
i love you
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