Coughing and Cussing

I'm still sickly, and so I've been fracken around on the computer applying for summer internships and the like...slowly realizing that its already almost October. Where has the time gone? It's days like these, when I feel gross, that I realize how much I am going to miss Chile and when I realize that I want to do something meaningful with every day that I have here (as opposed to sitting tucked up in my bed coughing my head off). I know that's not exactly possible, but it just makes me wish a little harder that Chilean classes would start up so I can really get immersed in this whole Chilean culture bit, play some soccer with the kids, learn all of the local ins and outs. The usual. But on the bright side, I can tell that my spanish has improved dramatically since I've been here because I can speak now often times without pausing to process the words that I'm saying. Although tonight at dinner Marisol did a run through of Chilean cuss words (since I apparently still have problems processing those)... but I've already forgotten them to be honest! she always says 'well it's better if you hear them from me first!' which is true. Sometimes I just picture how my mom would try to explain these things to an exchange student and it just makes me laugh. :)


speaking of my momma...In other news: Momma finally bought her ticket! Cox girls taking on South America Episode One.

I CANNOT WAIT!

That's about it for now, nothing too exciting to report. Josh is on a mission to find someone that can serve as my sit-in assistant for planning the Red and White Classic for the next couple of months- so if you know of anyone who is interested...hit me up!

Just the first pitch of many for my tournament I'm sure...
Alright, I'm off to movie night with Kaya and Cathy! Should be a good time!

Chao!

Tos-ing and turning (You see what I did there?)

26-09-11

 

Brief update on the last week I suppose…

Wednesday I went to Osorno with my Pueblos Originarios class to the Pilauco archaeo-paleontological dig site! What! super cool! I was actually really surprised because when I say “dig site” what do you think of? Welp. I think of like dusty Egypt maybe some mountains or something in the background, kind of Indian Jones setting the scene a bit. So yeah, the Pilauco site was actually quite the opposite. We ventured into the wilderness of…suburbia Osorno. Yep. That’s right, this dig site was in the middle of a neighborhood quite similar to my own here in Valdivia. Picture it…house…house…house…kids playing in the street…house…house….ancient fossils of really big pachyderms. Not so much typical. Anyways, the ‘dig site’ looks more like somebody ripped up a house and tore through the foundation  and just happened upon some mega-fauna bones. No big deal. Just another day in Chile. Anyways, we got a tour of the site, which was um…limited since its no bigger than a normal house and we got to see the most recent discoveries! Eek!! I took a bunch of pictures but the scientists told me not to post them online because this information has yet to be released to the general public. Yeah, what’s up, we are what you call exclusive. Anyways, one of the really cool things about this site is that, well, to throw a little bit of history at you…so there was this ancient river called Rio Damas that flowed through Osorno. River = fresh water = animals. Also, the peat moss from the river is what helped to preserve the remains so well. But here’s the kicker…there aren’t just animal remains, there is evidence of humans too! Ah!! Mind blown right? The scientists found tools, post holes for huts, and even human footprints from thousands of years ago, all in this dinky neighborhood in the middle of Osorno! They believe that this site was used to prepare the freshly caught food to be cooked up and eaten, they obviously can’t know for sure, but I’m gonna go ahead and support that theory, just because its so darn cool. This Pilauco site is also, debated of course, to be the oldest site of humans in South America. So there you have it. My class is legit. When I signed up for Pueblos Originarios, roughly translates to ‘native people’, I didn’t actually think that I would be seeing this kind of stuff. Man, Chile’s pretty cool.

And so, classes on Thursday were cancelled due to a ‘manifestation’ in front of campus. The kids are getting all kinds of riled up again because the university pretty much announced that classes would start on Monday. As in today. As in…they didn’t.

But, Friday marked my first day of Colegio!! First day of school! First day of school! So, while I’m down here I will be volunteering my time with some of the English classes at Colegio Domus Mater. Marisol’s sister in law is like the equivalent of vice principal there for the primary school so she wiggled me into the schedule. Which is saying something because they stopped having exchange students help out at the colegio a while ago due to a bad experience or something, so I was warned that I have to tread lightly, be a good girl, and understand that they are doing this as a favor to me. Which isn’t reallyyy true. But that’s what Cecelia told me that the attitude would be towards me, so I’ll take it with a grain of salt I suppose. Anyways, I am going to spend Monday and Friday mornings volunteering with the classes and the students I will be working with range from elementary to middle school. So, it should be interesting. 

Friday was my first day and the two English teachers that teach all of the classes were so wonderful and friendly and great. Really, just great. They were thrilled to have me for their students, but they were even more thrilled that they would have an English speaker to talk to on a regular basis! So Friday came and went and I think I am going to be pleased with my new position. Today, I think I found my favorite class, and although I think I like working with the middle school/high school better, those 3^rd graders today were awesome. No inhibitions, dancing around the classroom to the English songs (you know the ones, those funny grammar ones that are the equivalent of our Spanish songs…’vamos a la playa a mi me gusta baila! Baila! Baila! Baila!’…but this time it was ‘Hello!! (hello) how are you!! (how are you) I’m fine!! (I’m fine) and you!! (and you) ) We had a bit of a round table with the third graders today and they got to ask me questions about the United States, English, and well…about me. Almost every one of my responses was met with exclamations of ‘AH QUE BACAN!!’ aka ‘OH HOW COOL!!’ they were excited to have me there, which made me excited to be there. Which is good all around.

In other news, I’m sickly sick. I have a cough and a sore throat and I’m not a very happy camper. See title of this blog post ^ (tos means cough...and yes i'm punny). I ran out of cough syrup that momma packed me so I went to the farmacia this morning to get some more. I told the lady what I was looking for (At pharmacies here, all of the medicines, even the over the counter ones are literally behind the counter.) and she handed me a ‘remedio’ that was all natural. Hm. Mmkay. And then I asked for cough drops and I got those too. But here’s the thing- my natural remedy literally tastes like watered down honey. My cough drops are honey flavored. And Rodolfo suggested today that I make a drink of half milk half honey for my cold. And then Vale told me to make a different drink with honey. So, I’m starting to think that I’m not the only one with a fixation on Chilean honey and that it might well be a ‘cure-all’. And if it is, so be it. I’m all about this Chilean honey thing.

Oh, also, Paola- the oldest daughter of my host family who lives in Santiago, came to visit this weekend. She’s super cool, but I wish I was feeling better so I would have been more up to talking to her. Marisol covered for me (before rushing me off to bed) and told la Pao that normally, I am much more animated and that I am clearly a sick Kelly. Truth truth.  Also, I went to another Deportes Valdivia game and that was super fun. I got a jersey, but it’s a little too big for me. But for now, it will suffice to show my newly acquired Torreones pride when I attend future games. Paola said that soccer in Valdivia should be called ‘sucker’ because it sucks. Which may well be true, actually…yeah its true. I’ve seen better soccer in my day…but that’s not the point. It’s the atmosphere. And the fact that, as we discovered last game, #16 is gorgeous. So, #16, if you are reading this (sooo possible)…please holla atcha gurl. I told Katherine that I’m convinced that all of those boys go to our school because they are all our age…so maybe if I walk around campus enough, fate will happen. Yep. That’s how it works. Well at the very least, the girls got a kick out of it…literally. Gawsh I am SO punny. Speaking of punny, for those of you who missed my status on facebook yesterday, willis asked me what I was drinking while I was skyping her yesterday and I said ‘jugo’ (said hoo-go aka juice) and she said “jugos…there” (who. Goes. There.) I love ‘er I really do.

Thats about it on the home front. I swear I’m going to bed early tonight.

Chao!

Bariloche is kick ASH...volcanic ash that is.

Advisory Warning: Pictures to come. Just haven't gotten around to uploading them yet.

Simply put, Bariloche, Argentina is ah-maze-ing. Literally. This place is super cool, and we had a great time and I would love to go back one day. So we took off via bus through the Andes pass, one fine Friday morning. After hours of driving through a perpetual Thomas Kinkade picture, see pictures below, and two border crossings, we arrived in Bariloche. We successfully found our hostel  and were informed that if we stayed 3 nights we would get a 4^th night free because of the Rugby world cup or something. Not sure, doesn’t matter, we stayed an extra night. So, for around $9USD a night, we stayed at a great hostel, met some cool people, and on top of that- breakfast was included. Gotta love traveling through South America.

Thomas Kinkade painting

The Andes Pass (I'm still trying to figure out how to flip it)

So, the first day we arrived we were told that The Wailers. As in THE Wailers were in Bariloche that night. What. Bob Marley’s remnants of a band- yes we should go. So after a, might I say, delicious dinner of quite possibly the most amazing steak I’ve ever eaten in my life ($7USD…see picture) we walked down to the club where the band was staying only to find the tickets a little to pricey for our tastes. Yeah, I would like to see the Wailers, but let’s not get crazy. So we headed back to the hostel and watched a movie and crashed early. Only to be kept  up all night by a girl/couldhavepassedasaman who’s snoring was so loud that it sounded like she was swallowing her tongue/ making some sort of moose-type mating call/ actually trying to shake all of the bunk beds in the room and succeeding. Needless to say, the first night’s sleep wasn’t fantastic. But I had earplugs, and thus survived to tell the tale. Lessons learned after living in an on-campus dorm for the past two years of my life.

We woke up early the next morning and headed out to circuito chico- a kind of loop trail system that is normally done on mountain bikes, or by car….so naturally we decided to walk. Our first stop was Cerro Campanario, notably in National Geographic’s top 10 views. And so it was. After a straight up, uphill hike (switchbacks not included), slipping through the volcanic ash that composed the top 3 to 4 inches of the trail, we made it to the top. At least now we know why there was a chairlift option to get to the top- should have been a red flag, but eh, cosas que pasan. Out of breath, we became increasingly more so once we caught sight of the amazing view. Literally- it took our breath away!! The gorgeous Andes mountains, silhouetted by a bright blue sky so clear and vast and cloudless, with lakes acting as mirrors, reflecting it all just in case you missed it the first time. Purely amazing. We ran into an Argentine couple at the top and they told us that they have been coming to this spot for over 10 years, and that this is the most beautiful day they have ever seen. Without volcanic ash spoiling the view, without clouds, with a sun as bright as it was, and so forth and so on…Really, we lucked out- and we were thrilled. We continued our trek along the circuito chico (which means short circuit, and in my personal opinion, not so very short…), and we hiked along Lago Moreno and Lago Escondido only to be met with similarly stunning views. For those of you who know me, you know I’ve seen my fair share of big mountains from the Rockies to the Alaskan range- but I’m telling you, this was truly spectacular. Every vista, every lookout point, every mirador was beautiful and different in its own way. At one point along Lago Moreno, I felt a strange compulsion to get into the crystalline glaciar fed lake. And so I did. I know the girls thought I was crazy, but I just looked at Katherine and said “Welp. I think I’m going in”. Off came the shoes, the socks, and yes the pants too. It was so worth it- and hey maybe I am crazy, but when is the next time I’m going to be able to go swimming in a glaciar fed lake in the South of Argentina in the Andes Mountains? So I took advantage of the opportunity, and if you want to blame someone, blame my mother because she would have done the same thing.

After this, we came to the realization that the day was growing old and we wouldn’t be able to complete the whole circuit, so we met up with a couple from New Zealand and began walking down the road in the direction of the ever-elusive ‘bus stop’. Ah yes. Just a little bit down the road we were instructed. Past experience has taught us that this means an hour or more walking down the road and it was fair to say we were tired. So, after a pit stop on a bridge where we saw the biggest trout I have ever seen and also where I stared enviously at a man climbing a multipitch just across the way, it was thumbs out to hitch a ride. A woman, her young daughter, and friend picked us up and we learned that she owned a restaurant/hotel in the area and that both her and her friend had studied abroad in the United States. So between broken English and broken Spanish, we successfully made it to the bus stop and took the bus back into town (I make this sound easy, but the reality is, I had to convince the bus driver that we needed a ride because apparently only some of the city buses take cash, the rest are run by a bus pass system. This bus did not accept cash. Good thing there are good people in the world- because that bus driver drove us for free all the way to the next stop. Sometimes I’m glad I look like an innocent little gringa who doesn’t know any better).

After dinner at great Italian spot (Argentina is known for its Italian influence- hence the great food, and the great wine!) we stopped for some dessert and headed back to our trembling room of the great snorer almighty. The next morning we had signed up for a tour to go see Cerro Tronodor, a black glacier, some waterfalls and other cool outdoorsy things. Another beautiful day, albeit more ash in the air, we (after a substantial amount of car trouble…don’t get me started) made it to the glacier. It was really an amazing sight and our guide told us that we should feel privileged to be able to see this glacier as it is now because it is one of two black glaciers in the whole world and its fading fast. As she pointed to the first lookout spot, about 150 yards from where we stood, she told us that only 75 years ago, the glacier used to be right up on the fence where people could reach out and touch it. As the glacier receded a new lookout spot had to be created. Now, the current lookout spot is several football field lengths from the actual glacier. It’s really incredible, and our guide says that she can see the glacier melting more and more every day. It’s things like this- glaciers that are millions of years old, and that have melted to more than half their size in less that 100 years, that makes me wonder how people can dismiss global warming. I turned to the girls and said “How can people not want to protect this? How can people sit there and say that the speed of melting of this glacier is natural? Will somebody please bring Rick Perry out here and show this to him?” Because really, and I don’t want to talk politics right now, but Perry dismisses global warming as a ‘natural heating cycle’, it’s apparently not anthropogenic, and he says that climate scientists are just trying to make a quick buck off of a trend….right. Rick, I’ll be the first one to tell you that Argentina doesn’t want its only black glacier to melt, actually, I’m pretty sure they don’t want any glaciers to melt. So if this is just a conspiracy to make money- please enlighten me why they would melt, intentionally, a huge source of tourist income? Really just unbelievable. Due to more car troubles we arrived back at the hostel rather late, with me being rather angry, and we headed out to grab dinner. We came back to the hostel to find a new dorm mate- Claudia from Mexico. She was wonderful, and assured us that she didn’t snore.

The next day, we had secured a tour to visit Cerro de Leones, las cavernas de Viejo volcan. So pretty much- in a nutshell- there are these caves on the outskirts of town where the Mapuche people lived for thousands of years. The mountain is called ‘de Leones’ because pumas (mountain lions) used to run rampant through the area and were a serious problem for the health and well being of the Mapuche…naturally. So we went on this really cool tour and got to hear the history of the caves, see some actual Mapuche cave drawings, and even get to do a pseudo caving expedition (hard hats included) where we ventured into the inner caverns to see the pristine lake within. Seriously, cool stuff. There was also a cypress tree there that is recorded to be the oldest tree in the area, well over 1000 years old. This kind of history really blows me away- I find it so interesting that the caves I was walking through, were the same ones that were walked through by Mapuche men and women thousands of years ago. Cool stuff, on the real. Also, I finally got to see what rose hips look like! Now I am familiar with the delicious little fruiting bodies that make the homemade jam of Marisol so delicious. Mosqueta. Gimme some a dat. Anyways, after this, we headed downtown and acquired some of the world renowned chocolate from Bariloche, specifically, Mamuschkas. There are several artesan chocolate shops and factories throughout Bariloche, but Lonely Planet said “Don’t skip Mamuschkas, really, don’t skip it.” So we didn’t. I got to hand pick the chocolate I wanted and had it put in a cute little red box with the signature Mamuschka Russian dolls on the top. This was guarded with my life, as it bought it as a gift for my host family- and let me tell you, it took some serious self control! Erin and Katherine both got chocolate too, Erin much more than the rest of us- but we don’t judge because that chocolate was seriously the bomb. We grabbed dinner at another excellent Italian place (and after sample a fair share of Argentine wine, I can tell you I’m still quite partial to Chilean grapes), made a quick stop for some dessert, and then back to the hostel where I stayed up a little too late on google chat with Clairey entertaining ideas about everything and anything and lots of travel. God I love that girl 

Our final morning in Bariloche was spent at the Patagonian museum learning about local history and Argentine history. We then made a quick dash to the chocolate factory down the road and then pretty much sprinted to the bus terminal. After a smooth Argentinian border crossing we were met with strict customs at the Chilean border, fully equipped with sniffer dogs. And yes, we were busted for trying to smuggle sandwiches across the border with lunchmeat and cheese on them. Criminals at large, I’ll tell you what. The snow had melted from the trees as we made our way back through the pass, but the Andes were still stunning. The part that we traveled through seemed very similar to the Southwest in the US, and Katherine and I even bore witness to one of those mini-cyclone things of volcanic ash. I was beat when we got home, but the weekend was all in all a blast. Hugs from my host family and a mad dash for my box of chocolate made for a comforting night at home. I’m glad to be back in Valdivia, and let’s hope I brought some of that Bariloche sunshine back with me

Con chocolate y abrazos...Chao!

Another one of those moving/commemorative blog posts to 9/11

 11 September 2011

So I thought I would do a little reflection on September 11^th, since I feel that there are very few days that truly warrant this type of reflection. Alright, let me take that back since I know somebody is going to say ‘you should treat everyday with importance kel’… well listen up. Some days are more important than others, and if you want to argue, don’t do it with me. ‘preciate cha. Moving on:  September 11^th. Now, I can’t say that I was directly affected by the attack on the twin towers, the pentagon, or the crash in Pennsylvania. But as an American, I was affected. Not in the way that I experienced loss personally, but more so in light of the newfound unity that was brought upon us as a nation that day. I remember distinctly where I was and what I was doing. I was in the fifth grade in Mrs. Langford’s class (and Mrs. Langford, if you are reading this, which may be likely because my mom seems to have forwarded this blog to all of her best teacher friends…know that you have impacted my life in many ways, and this was a major one). An announcement came on over the loudspeaker that warned that the school was in lock down, code red. Teachers were not to turn on the television. So what did Mrs. Langford do? She turned on the television, just as another teacher barged through our classroom door to tell her to turn it on. And so, my fifth grade class and I, sat in wonder- staring attentively at the screen. Silence. Mrs. Langford, a look of shock and horror glazed across her face, and a still whisper of ‘ohh…my…this can’t be happening…’ while the murmur of the anchorman’s report littered as white noise in the background. Did I understand what was going on? No. I honestly had no idea what a ‘terrorist’ was or why something like this would ever happen to our beautiful country. What did we do wrong? These were my thoughts. And I remember becoming increasingly upset as the day went on, children were being picked up early by crying mothers. As I realize now, Boca Raton is a refuge for all those retired and not so retired ‘snowbirds’ of the Northeast. This includes New York. This includes New York City. This includes Manhattan. This includes the Twin Towers. Many children in my school were directly impacted on this day, and although South Florida may seem like hundreds of miles away, New York City, really is- demographically- our backyard.  Was I upset because of the tragedy? Because of the despair my peers were feeling? Because of the way that this attack shook the whole country? To be honest, I can’t say that I was. That would be a little ambitious to ask of a fifth grader at the time. What I was upset about was that my mom didn’t come to pick Cody and I up from school that day until sometime around 6pm. And when she did, Cody and I pelted her with questions “Momma what’s going on? Mom are we going to be okay? Mom something happened at school today…Momma why did you pick us up so late?”. Mom whips her head around to the back of the minivan. “You two. Quiet. I am trying to listen.” And so we all sat in somber silence on the drive home that day, listening to NPR or some other grave news broadcast. We never really talked about September 11^th in my home. But, it was understood that this day will be treated with respect, dignity, and honor for those who have fallen in the name of this country and what we stand for. And so the year continued, we sang songs in music class about ‘liberty, justice and freedom’ and it wasn’t even the Fourth of July. Our safety patrol trip to Washington D.C. was cancelled that year, not surprising, but still upsetting- Seaworld and Busch Gardens don’t really compare to our nation’s capital. We were taught new safety initiatives at school, and suddenly, the school gates were padlocked and the buildings were always locked from the outside during school hours. And yet, we never fully realized what they were trying to keep out, what they were trying to protect us from, and why the whole country was doing the very same.

With that being said, I know my experiences with September 11^th are probably identical to a million of my peers, but there is something that sets me apart. And that something I’ve come to realize since last Friday. I was sitting around a table at 12am, in a bar, in the South of Chile with 2 French girls, a Chilean guy, two Peruvians, and my two fellow American girls. The atmosphere was light and we were exchanging stories, common interests, historical tidbits of our respective countries and so forth. One of the French girls, out of nowhere, asked me where I was on September 11^th, 2001. I immediately spat out my location, age, and feelings. Like a machine. Like I had almost been trained to do so. She responded with a brief description of her personal experience, followed by a description by the Chilean and on and on. I was shocked. These people, my peers, my international peers, remember exactly what they were doing on that day that, now, is so defining in American history. I was speechless. In awe, and to be honest, in full out admiration. They then asked me where I was on the day of the London bombings. This took some thought, which I am ashamed to admit. They both knew instantly where they were and what they were doing, and the only reason I was even aware of my experience was because I had been in London two weeks prior on a school trip!

This leads me to my next thought: why are we Americans like this? Why do we expect the whole world to know what is going on in the States but we don’t give a half a monkey’s behind what is going on in the rest of the world? Why are these other exchange students fluent in French, German, English, and now learning Spanish when we are barely able to communicate in two languages? Why do we expect the world to learn how we work? How we operate? What our interests are? Why am I unable to tell you the years when Napoleon was in power? When Pinochet stepped down? For God’s sake a couple of weeks ago Erin was confusing Peru with Paraguay!! I’m not trying to call her out, I’m just asking- why is our education so nationalized? Why do we have this incredible sense of national patriotism but so strongly lack international patriotism? We choose to identify with one culture only and expect other cultures to identify with us.

There have been many conversations with my host family, especially on the topic of secondary education, where they say “Well, in the United States this is how it works…” and yet, I am left asking ignorant questions about Chile’s system! It’s not that I don’t want to learn- because if that were the case I wouldn’t be here. It’s that sometimes I’m ashamed to say that I don’t know. That I am ignorant. That maybe, I don’t remember exactly where I was on the day of the Tsunami in Japan, that maybe, the events that strike the loudest chord with me are the ones that happen in my own country. For example, we were watching the news tonight- more on the Juan Fernandez crash and the 21 people who lost there lives, the adored Felipe Camiroaga, which was then followed my some news on the educational protests, and then a brief 5 minute tribute to the United States, September 11^th, and the 10 year anniversary today. While barely paying attention to the previous stories, I became affixed to the screen and my eyes began to well up as I heard the names of those who lost their lives being called out at the memorial dedication ceremony today by their children, their wives, their families. 21 people died in Chile a couple of weeks ago in a tragic plane crash. And here I am almost crying over an event that happened 10 years ago to which I attribute very little memory.

And so I ask, is it the gravity of the event that matters? An innocent life lost is one that is truly lost in my opinion, and I know I don’t think that some lives are more valuable than others in that sense. But why? Why does this affect me so? Is it my strong sense of nationalism? Is it loyalty to my country? Or is it just pure ignorance to the international community and more of a sense of apathy?

So while I ponder this thought to which I still have not arrived upon a clear answer, I will leave you with my facebook status today (which I know may be cheesy, but I don’t care):

I am still amazed at how 9/11 shook the world. Talking with my Chilean host family about that day has helped me realize that it was never the USA against the world, because the world was behind us the whole time. And so today my heart goes out to those families affected directly by 9/11, but also those families, who don't speak our language, understand our customs, or even know where New York is, but still stood soundly with such compassion behind us for the past 10 years.

 

God Bless Chile.

But more pointedly, God Bless the USA.

Donkey-hotay, or how I think I'm funny.

3-10 Septiembre 2011

Last night was quite the experience. Marisol’s nephew, Jorge Andres, is going to spend 2 years finishing up his degree in…you guessed it…Germany. These Valdivians have a thing for their German roots I’ll tell you what. Anyways, obviously, this type of endeavor calls for extravagant going away festivities. Naturally. I mean, shoot, I had an extravagant going away party in Raleigh did I not? Maybe extravagant isn’t the right word…memorable would be more appropriate. Anyways. So, the whole family came over and we had a huge ‘carrete’ with choripan, sopapillas, and all things wonderful, edible, and Chilean. Just not in that order. What am I saying? Dear Lord the food was good. I received a crash course in ‘who’s who’ in the family, and I honestly can barely remember…the other day, I had to ask Vale for a refresher on who her cousins were and which aunts and uncles were related to Marisol. This whole extended family concept, is not so much ‘extended’ here as I’m sure you all can imagine. Most importantly, I met one of Vale’s cousins who goes to UACh as well and he is going to put me in contact with one of his friends who plays on the women’s soccer team here. Brilliant eh? He warned me that they aren’t training yet…hmm wonder if that has to do with the fact that the university isn’t even working yet? Minor details. Still, I anxiously await the day when I can jump into practice with the girls. Insta-friends. Yes, that’s normally how that works. So later that night, the girls and I met up with a group of other exchange students at a bar call Madero and I chatted up some fellow students- one from Spain and one from Germany- about…of course…the universal topic of interest: futbol. You really can’t go wrong with that one, I’m tellin’ ya. So German kid I was talking to invited us to a Deportes Valdivia game that Sunday. We happily agreed and made plans to experience our first Chilean futbol match.

As it turns out, the team was a division 3 B team or something like that, and while I may have seen more technical soccer played in my lifetime…oh, I dunno, by a group of 12 year old Boca girls… I was extremely impressed with the gusto and energy of the crowd. Holy smokes. Valdivia’s got some fans! This cracked me up as the players ran onto the field and were greeted by smoke bombs, fireworks, streamers, a drum ensemble, and chanting Torreones fans. Wow. I couldn’t help but laugh. This is the equivalent of people freaking out over a Greensboro grasshopper match or something. What is the world coming too? We discovered, much later and to our utmost despair, that the actual reason for this outlandishly supportive behavior on behalf of the fans was due to the fact that we had actually attended the league championship match. Ignorant gringas? Yes, yes we are. Nonetheless, we had a blast and I am still trying to figure out if they are going to have any more games, because I may just be a Torreones fanatica by the end of my stay here in Valdivia.

Fans going crazy for the 'Torreones'

The fan section that was more than happy to have a Gringa take their picture!

Monday comes around and classes start. Finally, she says as she exhales a deep sigh of relief. Ha. But really. I don’t know if I’ve ever been more thrilled to start class. Let’s just say that I’ve finished 5 books since I’ve been here and my tolerance for hot tea consumption has gone through the roof. I told Josh the other day I drank something like 7 cups of tea in one day. Tea affixation? Maybe. Something has to replace my Southern Sweet Tea so that I’m not completely struck by separation anxiety… Sidenote: Willis, I found an Arizona Raspberry Tea the other day. I bought it and enjoyed it to commemorate you and River induced hunger pangs and Blood’s closing down thus removing our access to creamsicle ice cream. Does this make sense? Is it sad that I associate you with this drink and rolling it around in Nemo to make sure its fully mixed before consumption. I lova willish what? haha okay anyways…So my Monday class was Pueblos Originarios which may turn out to be a pretty sweet ancient history of people type anthropological social development Andes influencing class. Something like that. I’m excited, even though it took me a couple seconds to register Holocene, Pleistocene, Paleolith, etc etc in Spanish. Geez, words that I barely use in English will now be part of my regular vocabulary in Spanish. Gotta love it.Speaking of spanish, please read this article. It is a result of my newly founded addiction to twitter, but it also has some cool scientific base as to why people speak spanish so dang fast. For those of you who are going to judge me for my Twitter addiction, please do, but know that it's like stumbleupon for a Poli Sci kid. Haters gon hate. I don't care. :)

Then, and this might have been the most important development of the week, I was fully introduced to Violeta Parra. My Chilean Language and Culture class met on Tuesday night at the movie theater to see ‘Violeta se fue a los cielos’, a deep and moving alternative type of film about the life and struggle of Violeta Parra, a famous Chilena folklorist. She is best known for her poetry and her songwriting, but basically, in the 50s and 60s, girlfriend did a LOT to preserve Chilean culture through all types of art: writing, singing, songwriting, poetry, painting, drawing, etc etc. She was a renaissance woman who lead a very passionate existence. After this movie, I became completely consumed with Violeta and I started doing some research online. The next day we went into town and I bought two books on the brilliant lady- Mom. Shush. I know I don’t need more books. I couldn’t download them on my kindle so you are just going to have to throw me a freaking bone here. I haven’t started reading them yet, but they are in Spanish and may take a significant amount of effort to decipher, but it will be worthwhile. For what exactly? I don’t know, but I have this strange feeling that Violeta made a very memorable stamp in my little passport to life that I will not soon forget.

Little else to report, went out with Cathy and her friends on Thursday. Sang some Kelly Clarkson karaoke with Kaya, went to the disco, and crashed into my bed. Only to head out to The Bunker last night to meet some Peruvians and hang out with some exchange kids. We did receive bad news that we aren’t going to be getting a full week off for Fiestas Patrias, which kind of throws our plans to head up to Buenos Aires out the window. Instead, I think we are headed to Bariloche. Alright Argentina!! Da me cinco… literally give me five. In other random news, Marisol told me that my sense of humor would be appreciated in Chile because they are all very punny here. Kelly for the win. This comment is a result of Marisol asking me what "burro" is in English...to which i replied 'donkey....' and she said 'don-key?' and me...'si...donkey...xote...don quixote." laughs all around. baby steps Kelly, baby steps. 

All in all, a good week. I’m not gonna lie, I’m due for some sunshine and springtime. Let’s make it happen Valdivia! All in favor?? ….aye.

Chao

some grafitti i found on the back of a micro bus seat. Kind of cool