It's a dark day here, dark and cold. Santiago is a dry city with dry summers. It never rains here unless it's winter. Never. ha.
It's raining hard, and it has been all day, and I'm in one of those moods, you know? I just keep eating chocolate.
I found out this week that I needed to get a Chilean ID card and register with the police with 30 days of entering the country, thanks to mom, who has been scouring all Chilean websites for random information. you know it's true mom. BUT, I am so thankful because I wouldn't have known without mom.
I also found out that my bank is being bought out and so my bank account numbers and check card will only work until March 9th (the first week I'm in Conce and when I have to register, pay my tuition, and buy books and stuff). Great timing. sweet.
But who cares? because I am officially a visiting Chilean resident of sorts. We went to get my chilean id card today, and it turned out to be quite an ordeal, even before it started raining.
Pancho and I set out at 8am. I already knew that I had to go to the International police to register Before I went to get my ID card, but Pancho just kept telling me that I could do that after, so. . . I shut my mouth.
Did I say it's been a rough week?
I totally blame Valentine's day, ha. just kidding.
Although this is a great time to say THANK YOU mom and dad for the wonderful package I got this week with chocolates, my backpack, a teddy bear, a really cool and nerdy calculator that instantaneously translates all metric units to/and from us units, along with a few other surprises. You are the best family ever.
It has been a challenging week also in terms of my language skills--I feel like I am sorta walking a tight rope. or walking a tight rope and juggling. or walking a tight rope, juggling, and chatting to the guy walking behind me. At least that was it seems like to me because I've taken eight years of spanish, eight years of verb conjugations and vocabulary that drifted in and out of my head between graduations, starbucks, final exams, and late nights. Years of living a life where it was fun to learn and study spanish, while my real life kept going on the side.
In English.
So, this week was sorta like a Welcome message,
Welcome to your new life. It's not in English anymore.
no really. seriously. think and breath and be, in spanish.
I had this moment this week (I have these moments a lot) when I looked up at Rodrigo, and I told him the reason I was more stressed was because I realized suddenly--Oh I'm not just studying this to learn it on the side, this is sorta for survival.
so on this tight rope I'm walking like I've been trained to do, one foot in front of the other, without panicking, and I'm taking deep breaths, but pretend like I'm juggling all the thoughts in my head, and in order to clearly carry on a conversation with the guy behind me. . . I have to have the thoughts aligned in just the right way in every moment so that my words come out right.
Are you exhausted? I am. Because this is not easy, and I knew it wouldn't be--but still- I'm doing so well in my language classes. I know the forms and the rules. I don't make mistakes on my quizzes. But trying to speak consistently and correctly--that's a whole nother thing- But it just takes time.
time.
time.
to fix my thoughts in my head. and people, in general, don't process that slowly when they listen.
I finally know what it is like to stutter. I get so frustrated because I have all the right words in my head, but now I'm trying to conjugate everything correctly (unlike when I first arrived ) and use all the right objects and pronouns in the right places and throw in my new vocabulary, and it just takes me a minute, and Pancho is sitting at the table looking at me, or saying "did you understand?" and of course I did, but I just want to scream:
JUST GIVE ME A MINUTE. I WANT TO SAY IT RIGHT.
but I can't so I just stutter and stumble, spit it out and then autocorrect and usually autocorrect again.
patience young grasshopper. I know. I know.
So, back to the registrar, I shut my mouth, got a number, and waited for about 45 minutes-and when they called my number I went to the module, and she asked me for my card from the international police, which of course, I didn't have.
So, we left and went to find the international police dept. This is the point where it began to shower freezing rain. Pancho didn't know where it was. I love the way people ask for directions here. They just steer the car as close as they can (without actually hitting) to the nearest other car and roll down the window and scream, "hey friend-where is_________?" I love it. we did it about three times before we found the place. I got a new number, waited about an hour until they called my number and when to the module. The plump and pleasant man went through the whole process with me, and then
asked me for my photo.
"ummm. . . photo? I don't have a photo. I didn't know I had to have a photo." I almost cried, but he just looked at me for about half a second, shrugged, stamped the paper and said "sin foto." (without photo)
God bless him.
So, we went and got photocopies of everything. still pouring freezing rain,
and returned to the registrar. We're were in pretty good spirits the whole time. I wasn't even upset. We got my card (it won't come in 'til March 5th, so I'll have to come back to Santiago to get it). Everything has been so easy so far that I've almost been waiting for something to be a little complicated, the most important word I learned in serving learning at BSC was "flexibility." I pretty much carry the word around in my pocket here.
In terms of my classes, this week has been great. My grammar classes, like I said, are good, and Rodrigo helps me a lot and is just generally fun to talk to. He introduced me to a little Salsa music and told me about the live Salsa clubs in the city. I hope I get the chance to check one out. Dirty Dancing Havanna Nights, here I come. Ha, just kidding. maybe.
I went to Neruda's house this week, well, one of his houses. I found it all by myself. La Chascona-it means wild-haired-it's a reference to Matilda. Neruda built it for his lover, Maltida-her nickname was "Madusa," in secret. It's amazing. Like a tree house--The house could be a poem. that's how thoughtful it is. How craftfully designed. I can't describe it and do it justice, but a few details:
Neruda loved Walt Whitman, remember the poem "Oh Captain, My Captain"? Well, Neruda loved the ocean and he thought of himself as the "Captain" of this house. It's sorta designed like a ship. There's only one entrance/exit. The dining room is built like the main hull of a boat, a long and narrow room with a long wooden table, rounded ceiling, and large glass windows on one side. In its original form, there was a water cannal which ran along this dining room. So, I imagine, one felt as if they were actually in a ship. Neat huh? at the end of this room, there's a china cabinet, and guess what!! This is so cool--
there's a secret passageway in the china cabinet! I loved it. then you go into a small room which leads into a tall circular stairway (which is actually a stairway which came from a real ship!) and at the top of the stairs a room that was once a guest room I think, with a port hole for a window (that also came from a real ship). There were two more guest rooms in this area of the house--then we went outside, up some winding stairs and into a living room type place, which was built so that it feels as if you're standing in a light house. With almost all glass walls. Before the city was built up there was a beautiful view of the mountains. Up the stairs is the private bed room that they shared which leads out to a beautiful patio. Back downstairs and back out another door, we walked up to an outside bar and another living room-esque place, and then a library. All of these separate areas are in on different heights and it reallys does feel like a tree house. Ok, I didnt do it justice. My tour guide, Rogelilo (? I think) was great and almost ran me down after the tour was over (I was the only person on the tour) to walk me to the metro. He was super nice, cute, and way taller than me (super bonus here). It was nice to have the company because it was getting dark. Here's some pictures of the house:
Isn't it beautiful?? sigh. I was only allowed to take pictures outside. You can take a virtual tour if you go to the website I think. The sun in the window simbolized La Chascona or Matilda, and the other simbol is a P connected into an M, Pablo and Maltida eternally united.
Macarena, my lit professor, and I are going to go to his other house, Isla Negra, next saturday together. I'm excited. It's supposed to be the most beautiful house. She invited me to come and visit her sometime during my winter break. I think we also may try and travel together next summer. She and I have had some really meaningful conversations. I'm glad we are friends.
Claudia has been sick all week, really sick, with fever. I met her boyfriend, he's very nice. They are totally cute together. I made some more cookies, for Claudia. Which dissapeared in less than 24 hours.
New things I have eaten this week:
Fried egg and green beans (try it-you like it)
carrot omelot (80% carrot-20% egg) the jury still out on this one for me-it's a little odd.
some sort of corn casserole, strange, but good.
home made tomato sauce-to DIE for.
Oh, and this isn't new, but I have fresh avocados every day-EVERY day. so goooooood.
Ok , I know this entry is really long, like always, but Berti and I went shopping today. I'm trying to find water proof, hard core winter shoes for concepcion. and. . . I hate to say this. I felt like such an american, but. . .
we ate McDonalds. I know. I felt really bad until I ate a fry. . . yummmm, those addictive chemicals.
I didn't find my rain shoes, but I did buy a pair of five dollar shoes.
You know how when you go shoe shopping, and they never have your size because your size is a "popular" size. Well, ha, at first I felt like I was pretty unlucky because sometimes they don't even have my size-- none of the rest of my family could even dream of buying shoes here. but it turns out that It's good because my size is always the size left-because they're much bigger than the average size here. ha-sweet.
Berti and I are leaving early tomorrow to go to the beach, which should be fun. It really wasn't that bad of a week. I'm just moody. It happens. It's all Greys Anatomy's fault, really. If Meredith dies, I refuse to watch it anymore. --sorry, had to throw that in there.
I hope you and yours are happy and safe-
una aurora,
Mere
Mariposa de Otoño
La mariposa volotea
y arde – con el sol – a veces.
Mancha volanta y llamarada,
ahora se queda parada
sobre una hoja que la mece.
Me decían: No tienes nada.
No estás enfermo. Te parece.
Yo tampoco decía nada.
Y pasó el tiempo de las mieses.
Hoy una mano de congoja
llena de otoño el horizonte.
Y hasta de mi alma caen hojas.
Me decían: - No tienes nada.
No estás enfermo. Te parece.
Era la hora de las espigas.
El sol, ahora,
convalece.
Todo se va en la vida, amigos.
Se va o perece.
Se va la mano que te induce.
Se va o perece.
Se va la rosa que desates.
Tambien la boca que te bese.
El agua, la sombra y el vaso.
Se va o perece.
Pasó la hora de las espigas.
El sol, ahora, convalece.
Su lengua tibia me rodea.
También me dice: - Te parece.
La mariposa volotea,
revolotea,
y desaparece.
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