not trying to be racist or anything but i swear chileans walk differently than what i was used to. they seem to dart back and forth, changing direction without too much warning... just some hidden cultural cue that suggests they're about to veer off course. it's also like a gang-mentality... if you are walking alone you might have to deal with people walking three alongside each other blocking off any spot for you to squeeze through (no they don't fall behind and make a vertical rather than horizontal line). i've now become accustomed to intentionally sticking out my elbows and forcing my way through rather inhospitable crowds and passersby.
9's look like p's, g's look like q's and q's are backwards.
m's look like n's here and n's look like n's.
1's look like upside-down v's.
frutilla is strawberry and chileans think fresas are something else.
it's weirdly comforting to know that chile is a plastic nation, everything goes in plastic. i feel like i'm home! you have to anticipate the plastic and intercept the grocery item, pastry, whatever commodity it may be and ASSURE them you will live without being plastic-ed out.
[oh what is that you say sir? well i have another plastic bag right here i can use instead of your new shiny one!] - by the way this is pure sarcasm for those of you reading who don't know me well enough.
any decent mexican food ingredients are imported, very expensive and aren't high quality anyway (same for indian food).
the really good ice cream is so freaking expensive!
they can't make flan here (sorry guys, but you know it's true)! they call it flan but it's like instant jello mixed with some milk with really bad food coloring and flavoring.
all the vendor stands with sweets and snacks within 5 feet of each are making me fat.
i blame the US for using feet, inches, fahrenheit, non-military time and everything else that's weird and isolationist. late in the summer, i told a lady it was 85 degrees outside and she almost died.
i wish i didn't stand out like a sore thumb here. sometimes it might be nice to be mistaken as chilean. hasn't happened yet, doubt it will.
[girl in store] ¿eres chilena?
[me] ¿me pareces chilena?
[girl] no
let me throw a good one in here, though clearly goodness is not the aim of this post.... the bread and baked goodies are to die for!
learning chilenismos can be treacherous... you MUST inquire about every word you hear before re-using it because chances are it's quite inappropriate for nearly any audience.
i'm a little bit upset i haven't yet mastered my monthly trip to the bank. somehow I end up being the one who waits forever in line with my ticket while people diligently sneak up to the counter and get in before me! really i'm impressed. so, you wait for an hour and a half and then you fill out the bank slip when you get up to the teller. it does provide for good personal service, however.
3 cheers for chile, who has successfully denied Walmart access to its territory. chile can economically afford to support its local commerce and say no to the corporate giant. i guess that's what being close to the largest western exporter of fresh produce and copper gets you.
when people get pissed at you here, they might just throw a rock at you. watch out! yes it's true, the continual threat of minute legalities and lawsuits just doesn't exist here. if you want the story you need to leave a blog-like comment and ye shall know!
be careful, also, on a bike here. you might die, for a variety of reasons.
if people think heterosexism is bad in the states, they should come here.
damn cans of anything in the grocery store are either outrageously expensive for what you get or they're obsolete. don't take the 89 cent cans of chicken stock for granted anymore, you people!
you also can't go anywhere without seeing people make-out. it's a little excessive.
the peddlers on the street have inspired me to save objects like it's USA cerca 1929 (we're talking a serious reusage and monitoring of all paper products, cardboard, plastic bags, paperclips, twist-ties, tape and rubber bands).
i tried out this café, "classic café", that i had been wanting to patronize for quite a while and i was intrigued by the english name (which is an all too frequent occurrence for a country that very largely does not speak ANY english)... anyway, there is a sign "english spoken" in the window. i asked my waitor (in spanish) about it and he responded with... the old owner spoke a lot of english and he put that sign there but he's sold the place to the new owners and no one speaks english here now ¿cachai?
rumor has it chile recently has disallowed bringing in objects like peanut butter via personal air travel. confirmation of this could bring about a very sad day for me (as you all well know by now).
on another positive note, the metro pleasantly smells like freshly cut cedar. i've yet to figure that one out.
i've been amazed by the incredible bluntness, but at the same time, distant nature of people here... case and point... one of my students wrote on her exam "i don't want to see [that movie] because i don't like chinese actors" whoah! try that one on for size...
also, i ask kids in class... did you guys study? what i will get in return is an real sample size of who actually studied for the test (2 people raise hands, rest of class solemny shakes head "no"). they're completely honest; it's unique and refreshing!
chileans are incredibly good at getting by on limited energy resources (though if you think this is because they are environmentally courteous you would be dead wrong). no seriously, they wear warm clothes and always have their jackets on inside in the winter but heating is just not an option (too expensive). so, they are thrifty; drinking multiple cups of tea and wearing gloves that allow dexterity do the trick (for writing, teaching, computering). i have never utilized the benefits of solar whatever more in my life. my daily routine is dictated by what the sun decides to do. it makes all the difference in the world.
i am dying for drip coffee (oh elena's on central ave. in albany. get me some please). it took me 10 minutes to explain what regularly brewed coffee is to a very hip young man (in spanish of course) in response to him having made yet another latté when i thought i had successfully asked for drip coffee.
me: [in response to seeing him add steamed milk] no, no, um, just the milk on the side.
him: (confusion and unintelligible spanish). oh an expresso?
me: well kind of, more like an americano but not quite as strong, and not with steamed milk.
him: oh
me: it's like, you have the coffee grinds and you put hot water (like alot of hot water) through them and you DON'T add steamed milk (using hand signals here like i am in class) and the milk is added cold from the refrigerator.
him: [frowns] cold? we don't have that here.
me: [smiles] thanks. (yea i know you don't have that here but if you let me behind where you are i could make it for myself).
*according to some, there is a place where you can get
somewhat comparable drip coffee (Juan Valdez shops). Anyway, a friend of mine said a bunch of Chilenos went in, asked for instant and when the clerk explained no, only fresh Colombian drip-coffee, they walked out unsatisfied and unsatiated. Anything but Nestlé instant just would not do!!
on a more serious/focused note, experiencing these cultural differences has been a blast, completely fun and intellectually inspiring...
