El fin.

I apologize for the length of this update, but I'm leaving for the airport in one hour.....

• Paper finished? Check.
• Research presented? Check.
• Packed? Check.
• Ready to say goodbye? No.
• But ready to be home? Yes!

Can't wait to show you all more pictures and tell more stories (in person)! Thanks for keeping up with the blog; I hope you enjoyed it.

Sad to say goodbye to Jenna Nackel. Funny how the Jennas ended up together...

Presenting my research to the group....in Spanish! Wahooooo!

El fin. Les quiero mucho.

I can play the charango...kind of.

I have a new (slightly-underdeveloped) talent! Ruly, my host brother, gave me a lesson or two on the charango (like a mandolin) and the wind pipes! I made a video of our recording session. Please don't listen too carefully for mistakes :-)

WATCH VIDEO

Writing? What writing?

Well, here we are again. Another week (or more) gone by, another post. Where in the world is Jenna, you ask? I'm still in Temuco, wrapping up the research portion of the month and just about to head into the writing period! Anybody want to write 20 pages in Spanish for me? That would be great. No.....it shouldn't be too excruciating, I don't think. After all the interviews and conversations I've had and articles I've read, I'm hoping the writing will fly by. Cross your fingers. For the curious among you, I'll let you in on my [not-so-] top-secret research. Consider yourselves lucky. Here we go...

I am researching the current situation of the indigenous Mapuche women: their access to education, discrimination in the work force, and their thoughts on gender equality (If I had to put it into one sentence). The history behind their current struggles is quite fascinating, and I think you'd appreciate a short lesson..... In contrast to the Christian story of creation, the woman was created first in the Mapuche culture, and the man second. The relationship between men and women, however, was never meant to be a domination of one over the other. It is characterized by equilibrium and cooperation. In fact, the concept of "gender" didn't really exist in the original culture. At the end of the 19th century, with the pacification by the Chilean State and the arrival of the Europeans, the situation begins to change. Fast forward about 120 years of wars, domination, and globalization, and you will find that the "equilibrium" between men and women is far from what it used to be, and the majority of the current Mapuche people (approximately 600,000 in Chile) live in poverty and face unimaginable barriers to education and decent work, not to mention the preservation of their culture.

So, to be Mapuche in Chile today is difficult to say the least. To be Mapuche and a woman.....it just doesn't get much worse because they not only encounter discrimination for being and looking Mapuche, but they also encounter the obstacle of being a woman in a "machista" society (sound familiar?). And that's where my research truly begins, trying my best to understand their situation, interviewing leaders of organizations who help these women, getting to know government programs, and reading a lot from an anthropological perspective. As I mentioned in my last post, it’s absolutely exhausting work doing everything in my second, far-from-perfect language. But you know what? I have really enjoyed it, and I say to myself, “Hey, if I can do this kind of work in Spanish, maybe I should consider doing a senior thesis after all.” Big projects with lots of writing always intimidated me, and I think I just assumed it was above my academic level, but I’ve learned a lot about my capabilities during this semester and realized that if it’s a topic that really interests me, it can be—dare I say it—fun.

Well, enough about research and personal reflexion; let’s talk about my social life! Or at least see some pictures to capture the highlights.

Jenna Nackel and I traveled 3 hours south last weekend to Valdivia.

Fresh mariscos (seafood) in the Valdivia market.


I went salsa dancing with my host brother and sister! (notice the height difference)

Remember the vegetarian conversation from my last post? (if not......reference my last post) Well, just to illustrate the fact that I wasn't over exaggerating, here's a picture of a menu from a different restaurant. If you look closely, you'll notice that the vegetarian plate ("vegetariano de la casa") includes "jamón." Translation: ham. There you go.

This weekend Jenna and I are heading back to the campo to visit our rural Mapuche families because we just can't get enough. Then it's a full week of writing! I'll let you know how it goes.

¡Besitos!

A break from research.

Well, I have officially been in Temuco for a week now and have gotten a good start on my research. But to be quite honest, I'm completely exhausted from doing all this work in Spanish (making phone calls is the worst!), so I've decided to save a research-related post for later. My brain needs a serious break. Instead, here are just a few highlights from my time here so far, which seems infinitely longer than a week:

1) "La Cata." That's what they call her---it's short for Catalina. She is the cutest member of my new host family in Temuco. She's three years old and one of the most spoiled kids I've ever met, but how could you ever resist a face like hers? She's like a mini Dora the Explorer, really. She calls Jenna Nackel and me "chiquillas," which, for those of you who don't speak Spanish, is really funny, trust me. She's basically calling us "little girls." Imagine a 3-year-old girl barging into your room saying "hey little girl," and proceding to touch everything you own and ask "is this yours? who gave it to you? can I have this? where did you get it? what is this?" That's Cata.

2) The transportation. As much as I was dreading getting used to yet another transportation system (because believe me, it's quite stressful), I've really enjoyed getting around Temuco. The best part: the colectivos! The colectivos are taxis that run the same route all day long. And they're numbered, just like the buses, so you know that the #21 goes by the mall and the Jumbo grocery store, for example. The best part---and hence the name "colectivo"---is that they're shared, and the people talk to each other! Plus, they're only 50 pesos (8 cents) more expensive than the buses. I just really love public transportation.

3) While trying to find a place to eat lunch and getting offers from every direction in the central market, Jenna Nackel (a vegetarian) and I had the following conversation with a restaurant owner:

*Note: this is not a dramatization

Lady: Come eat in my restaurant!
Me: Do you have any vegetarian plates that aren't salads?
Lady: Oh yes, we have plenty.
Nackel: Like what?
Lady: Well, the ham and cheese sandwich, for example.
Me: Yeah....but that has ham. She doesn't eat meat.
Lady: Well then, maybe the salmon with rice.
Nackel: I don't eat fish either. I'm a vegetarian. No meat. No fish. No seafood.
Lady: You could try the cazuela. It has potatoes, chicken, rice...
Me: Chicken is meat.
Lady: Oh right...well we have empanadas too. Seafood empanadas, meat and cheese empanadas...
Me and Nackel: *FRUSTRATED FACES*
Lady: Well I guess she could always eat one of the salads.
Me and Nackel: Thanks, we'll keep looking. *WALK AWAY*

4) Rural visit! This past weekend I was able to visit my rural Mapuche host family outside of Temuco. We were so excited to see each other again and catch up. Life in the campo is so simple; that's what I love about it. We visit old relatives, drink mate, sing songs, eat sopaipillas with honey, go to church, slaughter chickens, and then eat chicken. What could be any better? Oh, and more on the subject of slaughtering chickens: I didn't actually kill any chickens, but I did help pluck the feathers. It was a new experience for me.

Well, I've got a bit more work to do tonight before I can feel like I've earned the right to sleep. I hope you're all enjoying the start of wonderful summer weather!

Love to you all,
Jenna

My address for the month of May.

I've had a few requests for my address in Temuco, so here it is. I would suggest, however, that if you feel so inclined to send something....do it sooner rather than later. Mail doesn't exactly arrive overnight.

Pehuenches #01035
Villa Pumalal
Temuco, IX Región
Chile

Update on its way :-)

Cuídense,
Jenna

I realized I forgot this picture in my last post---it's my family in Buenos Aires: Mom Cristina, Dad Orlando, Sisters Mariana and Lucia, and Brother Lautaro.

"Brrr, it's chilly." "No, it's Argentina."

A few history lessons, as promised:

During the most recent dictatorship in Argentina (1976-1983), just as in Chile during the Pinochet dictatorship, thousands of people with “radical” political affiliations were tortured, killed, and exiled. In Argentina’s case, the estimated number of “desaparecidos” (people who disappeared) is around 30,000. Can you imagine? This past week we got the opportunity to visit one of the major torture centers in Buenos Aires, where an estimated 5,000 people were taken, all but 200 never to be seen again. It was originally a school, and the crazy part is that it remained a school during the years it acted as a torture center, while students still had classes! Somehow, though, it was kept a secret for all those years, even from the students.

We walked through the hallways, saw the torture rooms, read testimonies of survivors, and just stood in awe of the history we were witnessing. It’s hard to describe the sadness I felt while on the tour, especially when we came upon the room where they kept the pregnant women. Our guide told us that when the women gave birth, the men would immediately take the babies and give them to families of the military! To this very day, there are still young adults finding out that they are actually the son or daughter of a torture victim, raised their entire lives in a lie. If I’m not mistaken, there are between 60 and 70 such identified children.

Today, the torture center and school campus is a memorial site for the torture victims and also home to many human rights organizations, a symbol that it will never happen again (“nunca más” is their slogan).

Another big focus of our time here in Buenos Aires—and an extremely powerful reminder of the dictatorship years—has been spending time with the Madres de la Plaza de Mayo. “Las Madres” are, quite literally, the mothers of young men and women who were killed during the dictatorship. They all joined forces 32 years ago to demand justice from the government for the disappearance of their children. Their story is very well-known around the world for their perseverance and defense of human rights. Here’s why: EVERY Thursday at 3:30 in the Plaza de Mayo, the Madres gather and walk around the plaza with pictures of their children, protesting for justice and remembrance. We participated in the 1,599th march with the Madres, some of whom are in their 90s and haven’t missed more than a handful. They do so much more than protest every Thursday, though. They have started schools, built public housing, raised money, and so much more, all with the goal to fulfill the dreams of their children. They are remarkable women, with whom we felt so honored to have spent time.

Between these studies of human rights in Argentina, seminars, and visits to six schools around the city, our time to explore the city has been rather limited. In this past two weeks, however, I have managed to do the following:
1) Lose my debit/credit card.
2) Cancel my debit/credit card.
3) Miss my host mom in Santiago.
4) Tame our dog to the point that she's actually excited to see me when I get home. (So much so that she sometimes pees all over the floor.)
5) Make chocolate chip cookies with my three siblings. It was a success.

I will miss the cafes in Buenos Aires. Especially this one in particular, which gives a free scoop of icecream with an order of coffee.

This is La Boca, a very famous section of Buenos Aires.

And of course, our experience wouldn't be the same without a little tango!

Tomorrow we fly back to Santiago (those of us who aren't staying in Buenos Aires to do our research), and then starts the independent project period of the semester. I will be traveling back to Temuco, Chile, where we stayed with the Mapuche families. This time, however, I'll be in the city, living with a different host family. My project theme involves Mapuche women, education, and gender equality (it's a bit more focused than that, but I know it will evolve into something slightly different once I begin my work). We are all sad to say goodbye to each other for a month yet ready for a change in the program, for more independence with our schedules. I'll try my best to keep the updates coming when I'm in Temuco and let you know how my research is evolving.

Thanks to all who are persevering in following my blog; it means a lot to me.

Jenna

Reporting from Buenos Aires, Argentina.

The equation of the week: A new city + a new host family (with three young slash pre-adolescent children) + lots of seminars and school visits + a new accent and set of slang = 24-hour excitement and exhaustion. I really love Buenos Aires, though (dare I say more than Santiago?). It's everything I ever thought a city should be: tons of cafes, taxis, buses, beautiful old buildings, protests in the plazas, theaters, clubs, you name it. It´s definitely a bit more European than Santiago, which is a plus because our group doesn´t stick out as much. There are so many tall and beautiful people here, which is intimidating, but a break from the constant stares and whistles in Chile has been well-appreciated.

A short observation: It’s really difficult to have a fun or interesting personality in another language. I find myself wanting to make jokes, be sarcastic, or just contribute to a conversation, but nothing seems to translate very well. The result: I try to laugh and smile more than usual. It hurts my brain to attempt to be so involved in a conversation that I can’t entirely understand. I have, however, perfected my reaction skills. So, for example, I might not have the slightest idea what my host mom said to me, but I can pick up on how she said it and respond with the appropriate facial expression or the occasional interjection. The only problem is when she asks a question without me realizing. To illustrate, here’s a translation of a conversation we had last night:

Mom: Tomorrow you’ll have to take the metro to meet your group.
Me: Okay, no problem.
Mom: Do you want me to draw you a map of how to get to the station?
Me: No, not yet.
Mom: Later tonight, then?
Me: Tomorrow when I leave I can buy one.
Mom: Buy one of what?
Me: A map.
Mom: No, I asked if you want me to draw you a map.
Me: Oooooooooooh. Riiiiiiiiight. Yes, please.

And on and on it goes…


My family has a dog here. Its name is Paile, and we got off to a great start. We met on Sunday and instantly fell in love (there was licking involved). On Monday, however, everything changed. I was the first in my family to return to the house, so everything was dark. Paile apparently didn’t remember our first day together and thought I was a robber or something. She went crazy. I mean crazy, like fangs and barking and jumping crazy. My heart hasn’t beaten that fast in a while. Unfortunately, this has been a daily trend. For about two hours every day, Paile is just about as scared of me as I am of her. She follows me and barks and scratches my door and gets punished about every 5 minutes. All of a sudden, though, something clicks in her dog brain and she falls to the floor and wants me to pet her. From that point on, it’s like we’re best friends again. It’s the strangest thing. Have you seen the movie “50 First Dates”? I’m living that movie in real life. Only with a dog. Every day I have to convince her that she really loves me but just doesn’t know it yet.

Fast facts:
1) I’m living without a cell phone for these two weeks in Argentina, and it’s more difficult than I anticipated. I don’t like the feeling of being dependent on technology…
2) My host family owns a nearby restaurant called “La Paila,” which serves wonderful Northern-Argentinean food. We’ve only eaten there once, but my host parents are really good cooks, so every night for dinner is basically a gourmet experience.
3) I didn’t think it was possible, but the ice cream is better here.
4) I was right about the Argentinean accent; it has definitely taken some getting used to. I try to speak like my family, but I can’t do it without feeling really strange. I imagine it would be comparable to visiting Alabama and trying to speak with a southern accent. It just doesn’t fit.

In my next entry, I’ll talk about some of the really awesome academic things we’re doing here. It may involve some short history lessons, but I promise they’ll be well worth your time.

Love,
Jenna!

The best of Temuco.

Our SIT group spent the past week in a rural village near Temuco, about 8 hours south of Santiago by bus. We stayed in pairs with indigenous Mapuche families and immursed ourselves as much as possible in the culture. The following is a series of highlights from one of the best weeks of my life, in no particular order:

1) We realized within the first 5 minutes of our visit that "indigenous" didn't necessarily mean living with thatched roofs and dirt floors, like many of us had anticipated (see picture below). Most of our families had electricity, running water, and a television. We did, however, lack hot running water, so I only managed to give myself one cold bucket bath during the week. For those of you who are familiar with my hygiene habits, though, that wasn't too out of the ordinary.

2) Rachel, the other SIT student, and I went to church with our family, and somehow I ended up giving a speech in Spanish to the entire congregation. I managed to produce a few cohesive sentences, and for that I was very thankful. I said something like, "Thank you for having us...we're very excited to be here and to share this experience with you..." Booya! This happened just a few hours after arriving Sunday morning. Talk about first impressions.

3) The food was heavenly yet deadly at the same time. We basically ate an entire cow for lunch and dinner. And lots of sopaipillas (fried dough would be the best way to describe them). We knew we were in for a week of hearty eating on the first day when we asked for "just a little bit of food, something small," and got this:

4) We had a class of Mapudungun, the indigenous language of the Mapuche people. I'm sure you can guess just by the name of the language itself that it's rather difficult. We all struggled with the pronunciation but had a great time trying nonetheless.

5) I taught Rachel and my host siblings (Raul and Mabel) how to play Dutch Blitz, only the best card game ever (and it just so happens to originate in Pennsylvania). They absolutely loved it and were thrilled to receive their own set as a gift.

6) We learned how to play palín, the Mapuche sport. It's very similar to field hockey, only with a much longer and narrower field. We were actually pretty bad in terms of skill but made up for it in aggressiveness. We all came away with a few battle wounds.

7) Perhaps one of my favorite aspects of the week was the music. Raul, my host brother, plays multiple instruments and is currently studying to be a music teacher. He and his four younger cousins formed a music group in 2006 (with Raul as their teacher) that plays a lot of traditional music from Peru and Northern Chile. Rachel and I were lucky enough to see them perform a few times during the week. Even if just a practice or an impromptu performance at a family gathering, they gave me the chills. Did I mention they have a CD? It's incredible. Also, every once in a while after dinner, my host father (whose name also happens to be Raul) and I would sing hymns from the Spanish hymnal. Harmony is a beautiful thing. I can think of very few things I enjoy more than harmonizing with a fellow singer.

THIS IS A VIDEO OF THE MUSIC GROUP

8) I prayed for the first time in Spanish. Out loud. For a large group of people. My host father liked to volunteer me for things like that and catch me off guard. It was like the church speech all over again. Again, I survived, and managed to put together a few sentences that I assume made a bit of sense judging by the intermittent "amens."

9) Every night after dinner, and sometimes more often, we would drink mate (pronounced MAH-tay). It's a huge cultural thing here, almost as popular as in Argentina. It's comparable to tea in taste, but it involves so much more community. There's only one mug for the table, filled with loose herbs and hot water. You drink out of a silver straw that has a filter at the bottom, and once you've finished, the server wipes the straw clean, fills the mug up again, and passes it on to the next person. We would spend at least an hour every night talking over mate. I plan to bring a few mate mugs and straws back home with me and start a new tradition with my friends.

10) Our wonderful family: Raul (father), Lucy (mother), Mabel (sister), and Raul (brother, nicknamed Ruly). They welcomed me and Rachel into their lives with open arms and showed us hospitality like we've never seen before. There wasn't a dry eye in the house on the night of our departure. And to think, we were only there for a week. It's hard to believe.


I think I can speak for the majority of the group when I say that we didn't want to return to Santiago, partly because we knew there was a lot of work (and noise and pollution) waiting for us, but mostly because the week with the Mapuche people was so peaceful. Getting attached to our host families was a contributor, too. It really was a once-in-a-lifetime experience for us. I'm currently trying to figure out what I can study during the research period in May in order to return to the community, or at least be nearby.

This week we are trying to soak up the last few days in Santiago before flying to Buenos Aires, Argentina on Saturday. We'll be there for two weeks, again staying with host families in pairs. And then before you know it, it will be May, when we conduct our individual research projects. EEK. It's going too fast.

I hope all is well with you! Keep the updates coming :-)

Fried eggs, fried brain.

We spent this past weekend in beautiful Valparaíso, Chile, and let’s just say that if I didn’t have to get back to the States pronto, I would spend my summer there. It’s just undeniably gorgeous, or “magical” as my mother says. It really is. Something about the colorful houses built on these steep hills, right on the water—it kind of reminds me of Cinque Terre, Italy.

We ate some wonderful seafood and made a special effort to eat “chorillana,” a traditional Chilean dish which deserves a special explanation. If I weren’t already to die of a heart attack, I will now. Picture this (slash look at the picture): steak on top of fried onions on top of fried eggs on top of french fries. Yes, it is possible to eat that many fried things on one plate and still live to tell the story. Too good. Deadly, even. (FYI: each plate is for two people to share. Does that make it any better?)

The weekend wasn’t all for exploration and relaxation, however. We visited an all-girls technical school in the city, a small rural school 30 minutes away, and had a panel discussion with Valparaíso branch of the Teacher’s Association—all very interesting and a nice break from the sometimes monotonous class schedule in Santiago. At the rural school I made friends with two very adorable sisters named Javiera and Belen, which reminded me so much of my time in Peru. I knew them for all but two hours, yet still felt sad leaving them behind. I mean, really, how could you not instantly fall in love with these faces?

We returned to Santiago early Sunday afternoon in order to avoid any danger on the streets. As I mentioned in my last post, March 29th is the “Día del Joven Combatiente,” a day of remembrance for the Vergara Toledo brothers who were killed in 1985 after a confrontation with the police (during the Pinochet dictatorship, of course—they were leftists). This day, however, represents much more than the death of these two young brothers; it has turned into a day to express anger toward the many human rights violations during the dictatorship years. Every year this day moves farther and farther away from being a silent vigil: protests, looting, police confrontations, bomb threats, small fires, etc. This year, so I’ve heard, wasn’t as lively as in years past—some say because of the soccer game versus Peru that everybody was watching—but I was still able to hear more sirens than usual throughout the night. It’s kind of an ironic day, I think. That is, protesting the violence of the Pinochet dictatorship with…..more violence. I guess I didn’t live the dictatorship years; I can’t even begin to comprehend how people choose to react. Some, like the young people on March 29th, choose violence, while others prefer to ignore the subject completely. From my experience, however, most people talk about the years between 1973 and 1990 as “uncharacteristically Chilean.” They acknowledge the dictatorship as a dark and weak time in Chilean history, yet they’re sure of the fact that it won’t happen again, that they’ve moved on, that they’re once again embracing democracy.

________________________________________

Tomorrow, Thursday, is a significant day for many reasons: it's the second-to-last day of Spanish class, our last school observation, and also the day of the national teachers' strike. The school I'm observing assured me that they will still have school despite the strike, but there's no guarantee that I won't arrive in the afternoon only to find empty classrooms. That's actually what happened to me on Tuesday this week, and that wasn't even a strike day. I walked 30 minutes to the school, found out that the children were sent home early for some strange reason, then turned around and walked right back. When class happens to be in session, though, observing can be quite the experience. The school seriously lacks resources, just like most municipal schools in Chile.


From my mere four days of observation, it seems to me that the teachers have all but given up on being creative or taking advantage of the time to teach lessons. Classrooms act more like holding cells than learning environments. Boys in seventh and eighth grade whistle and say very inappropriate things to me and my partner without any sort of punishment. Teachers often struggle to gain control of their students. It's a very physical example of what we're learning about in our seminars: the privatization of the educational system during the dictatorship, the huge disparity between public and private education, the necessity to have money to receive a good education, etc. Basically, combine all these things, add a bit of politics, and there you have the reason for the teachers' strikes and the ongoing fight for educational reform in Chile. It's such an ironic situation, actually, because the law that changed the educational system so drastically for the worse was passed on the LAST day of Pinochet's dictatorship. His LAST day in power! Nineteen years later, and they're still trying to untangle this stubborn knot. Unfortunately, there are people from the Pinochet's government who still hold powerful positions (and some would say a very conservative right) who impede this untangling process. It's all very complicated; we've only begun to scratch the surface of some very big questions. But really, with a program name like "Education and Social Change," what better time to be in Chile?

Well friends, I don't know about you, but my brain is fried. It could be all this writing, or maybe playing translator all day......or the chorillana. Mmmm.....chorillana.....
Ciao,
Jenna

Shoutout for the week: thank you, Katelin French, for your letter! I miss you too!

OH! And a video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eBdYMeyDJgI
I took it while ascending one of the Valparaiso hills in the famous "ascensores."

Quickie.

Hi everyone. I just wanted to post a short update since I noticed it's been over a week since my last post. Our group travels to Valparaíso for the weekend (it is nicknamed the "Jewel of the Pacific" for good reason) and we're all quite excited to travel and see more of the country. Next week I should have lots to write about because a) there's a teacher strike scheduled for Thursday, b) Sunday is the anniversary of the death of two young brothers who were killed during the dictatorship ("Dia del Joven Combatiente" is the name of the day; aka Day of the Combatant Youth---lots of protests and vandelism occur), and c) we finish up our school observations, which have certainly been eye-opening.

A quick look into my Chilean life: our group is getting to know more and more Chilean students as the time passes. We're starting to feel a much deeper connection to Chile because of these new friendships (not to mention improving our Chilean slang and swear word vocabulary). Below is a picture of me with Rodrigo (left, the son of our academic director) and his friend José (right). I also met a group of really nice girls at the university who are studying to be English teachers. Needless to say, our conversations are quite interesting, as we switch back and forth between English and Spanish. All this is to say that I might need to come back and visit my new friends in the future (holla Lindsey!).


A shoutout to some very special people:


Thanks Aunt Kathy, Uncle Kevin, and Miss Kendall Paine for the love!
If you follow suit, you too could be featured on my blog. I'm just saying......

Cuídense,
Jenna

PS For those of you who are Spanish-inclined, here's a video from the birthday party of our academic director, Roberto. His speech is really quite beautiful. Our singing, not so much.
VIDEO!

Understanding "Anti-US"

First things first: a bit of business. I want to try and explain the Chilean attitude toward people from the United States. A word of warning: please understand that this is from my personal, very limited point of view, taken mostly from interactions with my host mother. So here it goes…

First of all, I’ve learned to identify as “Estadounidense,” one from the US, instead of “American” because South America is also part of America; people get slightly offended. ¿Cachai? But that’s only somewhat related to the issue at hand. I think a bit of historical context is needed to really understand the current Chilean mind-set. I’ll try to make it relatively short.

In 1970, Salvador Allende became the first democratically elected Marxist president in world history. I’m not much of a political analyst, but I do know that the US is not particularly fond of communism, especially in a rapidly-developing, influential country such as Chile. Needless to say, the CIA’s fingerprints are all over the 1973 coup against Allende’s government. What was to follow is Chile’s darkest moment in recent history: seventeen years of military dictatorship, lead by Augusto Pinochet. Thousands died, tens of thousands tortured, overall just a really painful time (economically speaking, too). I heard that in the first two years of the dictatorship alone, an estimated 1/10 of Chilean families experienced arrest, torture, and/or exile. My host mother’s father and grandfather were tortured, along with many other family friends. Can you imagine?

As a self-proclaimed “woman of the left,” (and I don’t mean Democrat…think way farther left) my host mother has very strong opinions of the Pinochet era, the US involvement in the situation, and the effects of it all that she still sees today. On the one hand, she offers a very, I mean very, interesting perspective to what I’m learning and my general experience in Chile. On the other hand, however, our relationship comes with a few expectations. She admitted to me that she has a very strong anti-US attitude (rightfully so), and that one of the reasons for hosting her first study abroad student was to break that prejudice. Talk about pressure, right? Well, you’ll be happy to know that so far I believe I’ve represented the US quite well; we’re forming a very strong relationship, my mother and me.

One can imagine that there are many people in Chile that have similar anti-US feelings (again, rightfully so), but it can be rather frustrating to encounter them and know that I won’t have the opportunity convince them otherwise. At the same time, though, I don’t feel like I have the right to convince them of anything. Does that make sense? It’s almost like I empathize with their opinions of the US and don’t even want to try to justify them—1) because I probably couldn’t articulate it in Spanish and 2) because I’m pretty sure I would feel the same way in their position.

Pictures of women who are still missing from the Pinochet dictatorship.

Me and Yarella, my host mother.

On a lighter note, here’s a story for you: I met a fellow Richmond Spider in Santiago a few days ago. It’s such a small world, isn’t it? Walking back from class, I hear “Hey, Spider!” coming from a nearby internet café. How did he know I go to UR, you ask? Well, I’d like to say it’s because we Spiders have a certain way of carrying ourselves, a certain air of intelligence…..but alas, it was the gigantic spider on the back of my t-shirt from the UR bookstore. Anyway, he graduated in 2007 and is teaching private English lessons in Santiago. It was a very strange experience but really fun to reminisce with someone about Richmond.

Here are a few pictures from our wine tasting tour this past Sunday:

Sad with empty glasses.

That's better.

Getting a tour of the second vineyard of the day.

And last but certainly not least, I have another video for your viewing pleasure.

CLICK HERE TO WATCH THE COOLEST VIDEO EVER!

Hasta luego!

A video...just for fun.

This is the "Casa SIT," where our group meets to eat lunch, do homework, and have afternoon classes. You can meet some of my group members and visualize a bit more where we're spending a lot of time.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cv_Awt-yXeI

Love,
Jenna

Story time.

I accidentally took a bus 35 minutes outside Santiago. How did I manage to do that, you ask? Well, it was actually quite easy. I took bus number 201e (“e” for express) instead of bus number 201. Careless mistake. Bus 201e apparently goes straight to the highway and doesn’t stop until it reaches its final destination...in the middle of nowhere! Obviously, I survived to tell the story—without any major physical injuries or emotional breakdowns—so that’s a plus. I opted not to tell my host mom the story; why worry her when I already learned from my experience, right? Instead, I decided to get her opinion of the 201e bus: “I almost got on the 201e bus today,” I said. “Where does it go?” To which she replied: “Oh, no, no, NO. Never get on that bus. That will take you halfway to Argentina.” I took a [fake] mental note of her advice. Ay, ay, ay, so much trouble over a little “e.”

Last Friday our SIT group visited a municipal school in Santiago and had a sort of cultural exchange with the students. In pairs, we ventured to different classrooms and had absolutely no idea what we were supposed to do once we arrived. (That seems to be the SIT trend.) About an hour later Estefania and I had gotten to know our 4th grade class very well—what they like about their school, their favorite subjects and after-school activities, etc. We learned some Spanish jokes, too, none of which I can reproduce. The students kept their end of the deal and asked us question after question, mostly in some form of “What is Pennsylvania like?” or “Which do you like better: Pennsylvania or Chile?” I talked about my small town called Ephrata—the farms, the cows, the Amish, the contrasts to Santiago. Somehow at the end of my explanation I had them thinking that everybody in Pennsylvania uses a horse and buggy for transportation. I’m not sure if that’s what they wanted to hear or if it was just lost in translation; either way, it was really cute.

Below is a video from our visit to the school. As a part of our very warm reception, a few students performed some traditional Chilean dances. It was so beautiful and reminded me so much of the children in Peru.

While University of Richmond is on Spring Break, we're just starting to get into the intense class schedule here in Santiago. Presentations, interviews, articles to read, Spanish to learn... I think I had forgotten what homework was. Wake up, Jenna. Study abroad isn't all travel and relaxation. In fact, from here on, there will be much less free time to just spend with our families or walk the streets of Santiago. It's a fine tradeoff, though, because instead we're investigating some some really profound questions that would challenge us even in English, I think. I will go into greater detail about the class material once I've had time to process another week or two, I promise.

Random facts: 1) At this moment, we are an hour ahead of the East Coast. HOWEVER, we turn our clocks back an hour this Saturday and will then be in the same time zone. 2) It is nearing the end of summer here, but temperatures have been stubborn, and don't seem to want to cool down. Most days have been in the upper 80's, sometimes into the 90's.

Hasta pronto!

¿Cachai?

Everyone says “cachai” in Chile about once every few sentences. It originates from the word “catch,” so it’s literally saying, “you catch?” like “you know?” Cachai was the first “Chilenismo” I learned, and every day I learn another two or three. They’re slang words and phrases, basically. But gosh, there are so many! I feel like I’m learning Spanish all over again.

When I return to the States, I will be fluent in Chilean slang. Spanish in general? We’ll see. And of course, Argentina will be a completely different story. New accent, new slang, new social behaviors. It would just be much too simple if every Latin American country spoke the same way. I mean, really, how boring would the US be without the southern twang, the slang of Philly and New York, or, my personal favorite, the Pennsylvania Dutch inflection? Is it pop, Coke, or soda? Awesome or wicked? Coffee or “cwafee?” Exactly.

Ok, so there’s the slang…and then there’s the accent. Oh, Chilean accent, how you confuse me so! Here are a few examples for the Spanish-inclined among you: when saying “mas o menos,” one will hear “mah o menoh.” Where did the “S’s” go, you ask? Beats me. “Pescado” (pess-kah-doh) sounds like “pescao” (pess-kow). “Me gusta” (may goo-stuh) becomes “me guta” (may goo-tuh). Okay, enough illustration for now; you get the idea. Long story short, in a conversation with a native Chilean who doesn’t tone down the accent or slow down at all, I understand just about 10%. At the end of the day, my brain is fried. Sometimes literally, I think. Talk about a great experience, though! It has definitely been a lesson in humility, having to ask so many questions and feeling out of place all day.

Moving on…



The transportation in Santiago is worth mentioning. It is absolutely wonderful for the most part: super efficient, relatively new, and best of all CHEAP, but nevertheless, it has been my main source of awkward encounters. I wish I had a picture to illustrate what I experience on the metro each day. Believe me, if I were to have sufficient room to move my arm to reach inside my bag, pull out my camera, and take a picture of this scene, I would. Actually, that’s a complete lie. Then I would look even more like a foreigner than I already do. Let’s just visualize for now, shall we? Picture this: it’s rush hour, which means wall to wall people on the metro. The man standing beside me holds on to a ceiling handle; my face comes entirely too close to his armpit. It’s summer here, so he’s wearing a tank top. In case you just recently finished eating, I’ll stop there.

I often find myself in the middle of the pack because the good spots around the handlebars have been taken, so there’s nothing around me to hold on to. Not that that really matters, though, because we’re so squished together that we all kind of lean on each other as the metro train sways back and forth, school-of-fish style. I have never been surfing, but “freestanding” on the metro is certainly a physical activity that comes close in my mind. As the train slows down for the oncoming station, I can’t possibly imagine another body fitting into the leftover space, but without fail, somebody always jumps on, almost losing a nose as the door closes. And then we all breathe a little less. It’s that simple.

Well, that’s enough cultural observation for today. I hope all is well with you; don’t forget to keep me updated on your lives, too. To my friends at UR: have a wonderful Spring Break! Enjoy what’s left of the snow!

Love to all,
Jenna

PS Just so you know, I do have classes and homework. More on that later.

My address. Por fin.

Jenna Garber
c/o Roberto Villaseca
Ernesto Riquelme 226, Tercer Piso
Barrio Brasil, Santiago Centro
Santiago, Chile

Another update on the way!
Love from Chile,
Jenna

Así es la vida.

Again, here’s a bit of Isabel Allende, because she describes Chile so darn well: “I grew up with jokes about Galicians, Jews, and Turks. Our humor is black. We never let an opportunity pass to make fun of other people, whoever they may be: deaf mutes, the retarded, epileptics, people of color, homosexuals, priests, and the homeless. We have jokes about all religions and races. The first time I heard the expression “politically correct” I was forty-five years old, and I have never been able to explain to friends or relatives in Chile what that means.”

And thus has been my experience so far. In the same sentence my host mom managed to say that she’s not racist, that she thinks Asian men are ugly, and referred to Barack Obama as “negrecito,” which basically means “little black man,” all without thinking twice about this so-called “political correctness.” Interesting, to say the least. Allende notes that “Chileans don’t talk in terms of ‘racism’ but, rather, of ‘the class system’ (they love euphemisms), but there is little difference between them. Not only do racism and/or class consciousness exist, they are as deeply rooted as molars. Whoever maintains that racism is a thing of the past is dead wrong.” To illustrate: walking through the center of Santiago today, my host mom said that she can determine one’s social class by the color of their skin. She’s probably correct about 95% of the time. But “así es la vida.”

All this is to say that I’m starting to get a feel for Chile (Make no mistake: it's absolutely beautiful, and I LOVE it!). Orientation was a few days of paradise in a town on the beach called Algorrobo. Our group arrived in Santiago yesterday afternoon; now we have the entire weekend to spend with our host families. My family consists of just me and my host mom, who is 38 and one of the strongest and most interesting women I have ever met. She teaches Chilean history to middle school and high school students, so, needless to say, I’ve already received a few history lessons myself. She’ll be a great resource for me when classes start. We live in a cute little apartment just a 6-minute metro ride to the city center.

The SIT group consists of 15 people from all over the United States (and one from Quito, Ecuador). We are a super diverse group in terms of beliefs, ethnicity, Spanish level, home States, personality, you name it, and so far we’re getting along very well.

On Monday we will take a Spanish placement exam and begin classes soon after, along with the rest of the Chilean students, who are returning from summer break. And then the program officially begins!

In other news, the fannypack is back in style. Maybe you didn't get the memo.

And now I'll leave you with a few pictures...

The view from our hotel rooms in Algarrobo, the orientation site.

Will, Lauren, and Byron.

Lauren, Me, Kaia, Leland, Rachel, Maya, and Ali.

My new home.

Minette, our cat. This one is for you, Miss Nagel.

The view of Santiago from our balcony.

Cuidense!

Jenna

Are we there yet?

Sunscreen? Check.
Amishy gifts for host families? Check.
Laptop? Camera? Check and check.
Required reading completed? .....getting there.

Besides a few odd jobs I left for the last minute, I am officially prepared to head south (on Monday, February 23rd). First stop: Santiago, Chile! And on the way, I'll make fourteen new friends. Well, that's the plan, anyway.

I'm ready to experience a new Spanish accent, a different political climate, some famous Chilean fish and wine, and of course learning in a new culture. Hence, "Aprender de la experiencia:" learn by experience.

Isabel Allende, a famous Chilean author I'll reference a lot, describes her people like this: "Being so far from everything gives us Chileans an insular mentality, and the majestic beauty of the land makes us take on airs. We believe we are the center of the world—in our view, Greenwich should have been set in Santiago—and we turn our backs on Latin America, always comparing ourselves instead to Europe. We are very self-centered: the rest of the universe exists only to consume our wines and produce soccer teams we can beat. My advice to the visitor is not to question the marvels he hears about my country, its wine, and its women, because the foreigner is not allowed to criticize—for that we have more than fifteen million natives who do that all the time." (That is from her book My Invented Country, which I highly recommend.)

So there you have it. Self-centered, wine- and soccer-loving people are waiting upon my arrival. I'll just have to see for myself if Allende was right.

As far as my contact information......that, you'll just have to wait for. All of those goodie-filled packages and love letters can sit around a few more weeks, I'm sure.

Please keep me updated on your lives in Richmond, Ephrata, Lancaster, Delaware, Philly, etc. etc. etc. and I'll try my best to do the same.

¡Que Dios te bendiga!
Jenna