"in the midst of rain"

Ok-this is the last mini-entry in my mega-blog.

Considering how it rains almost every day in Concepcion-it was a quite a change to head to the desert. So much sand. Looking down through my tiny plane window I felt like I was watching a movie, that the giant stegosaurus like sand sculptures-it was so surreal--no green, no blue, just sand-lots of sand.










[I took like 360 pictures or something in San Pedro. I want to show some of them to you on the blog, but you should really check out the whole album if you have a chance. I will put the picture link to the album at the bottom of the blog.}

Several times throughout the weekend I felt like I was surrounded by surreal images. . . looming sand dunes sprinkled with foot prints, full moons beneath rainbow sunsets, geysers, salt formations, dirt roads and clay huts---the desert. Taking the hour bus ride from the airport to San Pedro de Atacama, I began to feel engulfed by the sublime beauty of the desert sand surrounding me. Who knew that there were places like this in the world? I have never been to a desert. Bama is pretty green for all of you who are wondering, like 65% forests or something crazy like that, so this was quite an experience for me. Akshai was running around doing little sand dances because he felt like he had stepped right back into Arizona, but I was mystified by this thing, the desert.

In many ways it has a calming effect-that sand--sorta like laying on the beach surrounded by the sound of waves--except this time it was always the whipping of the wind, the sand swirling around, dancing into your ears or onto your eyelashes.

Sometimes I felt very lost, as if at any moment I would take one more step into the sand and fall in. . . just fold myself into the huge mound and sleep. (I mostly had these feelings when I was hiking up large sand dunes and thought I might not make it to the top).

I had the same sorta feeling I had when we hiked in Torres del Paine--very small-a speck in the grand scheme of nature--a grain of sand--and although that feeling can be overwhelming and a little scary, it's also cool--to feel small and simultaneously significant and insignificant.

wait til you see the pictures.

I studied all week last week because I thought I had two tests on the friday before our holiday weekend. All my friends left a day early, so I was left studying. I arrived at both of my classes to discover that the tests had been delayed--and that of course everyone else knew--except me. bummer.

I took an overnight bus to Santiago--I almost missed my bus because I was confused by the signs on the buses and thought my bus hadn't arrived when really it had been there all along but had a sign for a different end destination. But--I finally asked and made it on to the bus (the last passenger) and as my bus-luck usually goes was seated next to an extremely large man. [I know that I say this every time--but I am not exaggerating.] They may have less obesity in Chile than in the states, but I have met the majority of the chileans that fall into that Category. They ALWays are seated next to me on the bus. The three times I have taken an overnight bus I have been seated next to unusually large folks. Which isn't a big deal (I mean I'm not a small person, and I come from a family of what they would call Giants here in Chile-I miss feeling short) except that I was a little uncomfortable, and he snored loudly the entire time,so I didn't get much sleep. I arrived to Santiago about 5am, took a taxi to the airport and was safely waiting for my plane to arrive in the gate about thirty minutes early and snacking on an apple.

The three hour plane ride was spectacular as if for Karma's sake I had an open seat next to me on a booked flight-so I had space to stretch and enjoy the view. They gave us these great snack packs that had peanuts, a brownie, and the manjar filled cookie thing. Remember manjar? It's awesome.

anyways, I landed about 10:30ish and then got on an hour and a half bus from Calama to San Pedro which was gorgeous. We were driving through the desert, and I couldn't unglue my eyes from the windows. The thing that I think surprised me most is how diverse desert landscape really is. It's not just a big pile of sand. There are mountains and valleys and crevices and all sorts of random formations.

We arrived to this San Pedro:

This is just one picture of the town.

We grabbed some lunch at this neat little restaurant that had a folk band:



Our new friend Christina that they met on the bus.

Then, we decided to go SAND BOARDING. I can't even begin to tell you guys how exciting this was. I, as you know, am only semi-athletic. And since I have spent most of my time here studying, reading, and eating--I'm not in my most tip-top shape even though I walk a lot. So. . . we basically get in our guide's pick-up truck and he drives us down through this valley called "Valley of death." We park and look up at this Gigantic sand dune. This is us preparing to sand board:


That's Tim (another fullbrighter), Kathleen (our german friend), Christina (random cool girl we met from Michigan), Akshai, Olivia (random cool girl we met from Texas), and TJ (another random cool kid we met from Michigan who randomly went to elementary school with Christina and just happened to run into her in the Chilean desert).


This is me when I was still clean and sand free.

Christina


Ok. . . so Christina took this next photo of me with my board before we began our adventure, and then she thought my pose was cool so I took one of her. Look closely and you will see which one of us is a real sand-boarder and which was of us was just posing.

REAL SAND BOARDER
WANNA BE-- Am i holding that thing like more like a musical instrument or a clutch purse?

me and akshai:
The gang.

Now remember, to see larger versions of these pictures just click on the link at the bottom of the blog and then click on the slideshow button.


Sand boarding is basically like snow boarding on sand. the board looks the same, you stand and move the same ways. I have never been snow boarding-I've never really done any type of boarding, unless knee boarding counts. As you can imagine, as I stared up at that huge dune my first thought was:

How am I going to make it up to the top in the first place?

and my second thought was:

I'm going to die. ha

anyways, we slowly hiked up the sand dune with our boards.
on our way up

Once we made it to the top , we saw that the bottom of the other side of the dune was much higher--so we could practice on that side while we learned until we moved up to the mac daddy dune. This is what the scenery was like from the top:

By the way, this was my board:


Our super cool instructor:

Akshai surfing the dune:

me looking like I know what I'm doing:


christina-non-stop entertainment:

This is how I spent the majority of my boarding experience:

just kidding--but it was exhausting to have to climb up the dune each time after you went down. by the end, I was like. . . umm you guys just tell me when you're ready to leave, and then I will make one last marvelous run down to the truck.

It was breathtaking:


Me right before I crashed and burned:


Look at me go!


I totally know how to sand board now, and let me tell you-I feel about ten percent cooler over all:


After conquering the dune:
. Whew.

We were out there for two hours, but it seemed like five. We had an absolute blast--most of us started out our boarding runs pretty well but the majority of the runs ended with either a face or a rear-end in the sand. I wasn't so lucky. I always started out all right, but when I fell-I fell hard-like rolling, flipping, swimming in the sand. If you can imagine--I had sand EVERYWHERE-in my ears, my face, down my shirt and pants. (we sand boarded in our bare feet). and I laughing commented that you could probably judge how good a sand boarder was based on the amount of sand they had on them-the less sand, the better-obviously.

I looked like the little four year old in the sand box who sits down, begins grabbing hand fulls of sand and throwing it on her head and down her pants-covering herself completely before she begins to eat the sand.

that was me.

I wasn't the worst in the group, but I was close. I still had a blast though. Akshai was a master sand boarder, but the best in our group was definitely Christina--she sand boards and was super amazing. She was also just a general treat to have around because she was always happy and optimistic. Random friends are the best kind.


So, that ends day one. We ate at amazing restaurants all weekend. Unfortunately, the town definitely charged tourist prices, but it was worth it.

I bought a hat, scarf, and gloves because we heard that our day 2 tour was supposed to be freezing cold:
that's color coordination at its best friends.

Day 2 began at 4am!!! We were picked up outside our hostels and began the two hourish bus ride to the geysers (I slept most of the ride). Here's Tim at 4:


It was just daylight when we got to the geysers, and I don't even know how to summarize the experience. They were amazing, but it wasn't just the geysers. It was the way the light played with the smoke as the sun rose and the way the shadows bounced off the water with the blue sky and bright landscape in the background. It was so cold that our fingers and toes were actually seriously numb for at least two hours:



Check it out (here's just a few of the many I took):






I was just standing around when I saw the light hit just right and starting snapping shots of Tim. I'm really proud of these pictures. They make me feel like a real photographer:



Especially this one:

Isn't that cool???

Tim:


In front of the biggest geyser called the assassin:


We saw some cactus. This is me looking like I'm grabbing the cactus-


We were worn out when we got back. We bought some supplies and had a barbecue in the hostel:

I bought that sweater there, sweet huh?

Day 3 We went to the Valley of the moon or Valley de la luna. SUPER COOL

These tours were all really cool. This one started at a neat cliff overlooking another valley. Tim, Elizabeth, Rachyl (all fullbrighters) and me went on this tour. Here we are posing on the cliff:




walking down into Valley of the Death:

our guide:

group shot:

then we went through a cave, spelunking if you will:




Then we headed to the Valley of the Moon. And in order to see the sunset from the best place we had to hike up this HUGE dune. I hate sand hiking because it's like step, swoosh, slide, step, swoosh, slide. But it was totally worth it once we got up:
The valley of the moon on our way up to the top of the dune. See why they call it that?
and WE made it! almost died but we made it:

view from the top:


sorry this one is sideways:



and on the way back down:







and our last night at a great restaurant with an open ceiling with a bonfire in the middle of the floor:
Akshai mid-sentence:


So--I guess that's about it. Well, a couple of other things happened. Two chilean guys told me they thought I was European.

I had this long intense conversation about Alabama and the south with some folks who made the statement that people from Alabama "don't leave Alabama" implying we were all too stupid to leave. Some kid was even like I mean Meredith you're the first person I have ever met from Alabama, has anyone else Ever met anyone from Alabama??" I am finding more and more that people have an extremely skewed and generalized view of Alabama and the south as a whole. People are mystified that I am from Alabama, and I hope that I help to re-adjust people's negative images of Alabama and the South, by people I mean Chileans and other US citizens. I realize that Alabama has its issues, but there are brighter and duller people in Alabama, just like there are in EVERY state.

Don't we always come back to the place where we realize that all-encompassing generalizations never completely hold up. I mean seriously.

seriously. When people ask me where I'm from here--I usually don't say the US first, I say Alabama. I am proud to be from Alabama, proud of where we are and how far we are from where we've been, proud of where we hope to go--

somos lo que somos. We are who we are. and all we can do is try to be true and honest to ourselves.

I've been swamped lately with tests every week and apartment searching. I have two more tests this friday on four different books, so I'll be reading for most of the week. Hopefully, I am headed to Santiago next weekend to visit with some friends from San Francisco who will be flying in.

I am really behind on post-card sending. I promise as soon as I get a chance to breathe I will send out another batch. I miss you guys so much-if you get a chance send me an email and let me know how you are--

now-CLICK on this picture to see the full album:

San Pedro de Atacama

and then make sure you click on slideshow.

I'm adjusting to autumn here--in the midst of rain.

hope you and yours are happy and safe,

una aurora,
Mere

This poem is from my favorite book of Neruda's, Residencia en la tierra

and I'm super tired so I'm only going to type it in English this time, sorry:

Autumn Returns

A day in mourning falls from the bells
like a trembling vague-widow cloth,
it is a color, a dream
of cherries buried in the earth,
it is a tail of smoke that restlessly arrives
to change the color of the water and the kisses.

I do no know if I make myself clear: when from on high
night approaches, when the solitary poet
at the window hears autumn's steed running
and the leaves of trampled fear rustle in his arteries,
there is something over the sky, like the tongue of a thick
ox, something in the doubt of the sky and the atmosphere.

Things return to their places,
the indispensable lawyer, the hands, the olive oil,
the bottles,
all the traces of life: the beds, above all,
are filled with a bloody liquid,
people deposit their confidences in sordid ears,
assassins go down stairs,
it is not this, however, but the old gallop,
the horse of the old autumn that trembles and endures.

The horse of the old autumn has a red beard
and the foam of fear covers its cheeks
and the air that follows it is shaped like an ocean
and a perfume of vague buried putrefaction.

Every day down from the sky comes an ashen color
that doves must spread over the earth:
the cord that forgetfulness and weeping weave,
time that has slept long years within the bells,
everything.
the old tattered suits, the women who see snow coming,
the black poppies that no one can look at without dying,
everything falls into the hands that I lift
in the midst of rain.

Vuelven las cosas a su sitio, (Things return to their places)

"Somos lo que somos" We are what we are. That's what the man who works at the concession stand told me. He's the whimsical bright-eyed sort that I'm sure was a magician in another life. We are what we are. And in addition to the many things I am,

I am behind in my blogging. Way behind. It may take me days to write about all of this-so hold on to your socks. I may post mini-blogs so that you guys can read along as I go through the past few weeks. How long has it been? almost a month?? sorry--but you will know that the blog is officially done when I put the poem up. So keep checking below because entries are going to keep appearing below.

Let's start with Shania. A few weeks ago, I found myself in a lovely little karaoke pizza bar in concepcion with a truly international crowd: my friend Kazu who is Japanese, my friend Kristin who is Canadian, and my friend Felipe who is Chilean. And for the first hour this man with greasy hair is paid to sing by himself-I've talked about this Chilean phenomenon before. And then after his hour of glory in the spotlight he opens up the floor for eager singers. Now in my limited but rich Karaoke experience in Birmingham Alabama, mostly in a classy Karaoke joint called Stars, people LINE UP to sing--I'm talking about wait three hours to sing one song kinda intensity. And these people ARE NOT joking around. Alabama is home of the american idols right???? And these people--the people that sing Karaoke at home, they are american idols in their dreams--heck--they probably tried out--you probably saw them on television and thought, "Now that is a Karaoke God" or not. The point is that Karaoke is serious business at home.

Here, not so much. My friends were loudly urging me to sing. For those of you who know me--occasionally I have been known to bust out a solo stage presence or the habitual group "You're so Vain," but only after I have been there for a while, have heard enough people to let the fact sink in that I couldn't possibly be the worst of the night.

But at this place (I can't remember the name) the guy opens the floor and gets crickets. Nobody wants to sing, and I am for a minute confused about whether or not Karaoke translates to something different in spanish, until my friends start pointing at me, and I get to be the FIRST one on stage. Actually, I was still looking through the book, so greasy hair kept singing until I was ready, asking me after he finished each song. Soooo--I chose Man, I Feel Like A Woman--I know, I know what you're thinking:

1. did you forget that you're an alto and the ohh whoooaaa ohhh oohhhh's are pretty high up?
2. Did you really sing Shania?
3. Man I feel like a woman???

But to answer those questions:
1. When you sing in your head it's always in the octave you're most comfortable in, and you forget that the song has its own notes
2. Yes-I felt that Shania not only honored my great Canadian friend Kristin, but also represented my alabama roots well
3. They didn't have "Whose bed have your boots been under" and people seriously actually sung along.

Let's just say it wasn't a disaster. It was pretty fun--I made a lot of instant friends, and. . . the best part is. . . I got a free pisco sour. They actually gave me something for singing!!! What country am I in again??

Kristin took some pictures, and I promise as soon as they surface I'll put them on. It was actually a total blast. Felipe sang too, but a chilean song that I didn't know. We still pretended like we knew the words anyway--at least that's one thing Karaoke here and Karaoke in the states have in common.

Service Above Self

Service Above Self.

Two weeks ago I gave my first official presentation as a Rotary Ambassadorial Scholar. I talked about my family and my state, the civil rights movement, and some southern authors. It was a big hit. After some minor technical problems, everything was up and running, and they had lots of great questions in the end.


About three days later, the weekend before last, I spent an amazing two days at my district Rotary Conference.

All I can say is that once again I am immensely proud to be associated with Rotary International, and extremely thankful that I have had the opportunity to meet so many amazing, thoughtful Rotarians.

The conference was more than informative: it was charged, passionate, invigorating, enlightening, thought-provoking, and inspirational. And I am not trying to brown nose. The Rotarians I met care deeply for each other. It was almost like being at a family reunion. Although they were always composed and formal, they embraced each other upon meeting, seemed continually thankful to be a part of such an amazing network.

Like the Rotarians in Birmingham, these Rotarians mean business. They take their roles in the community very seriously and amid all the laughter and memories, they were there to talk about serious issues. I have to admit that I was a little worried that I might be a little snoozy in some of the sessions, but it was quite the contrary. I was extremely impressed by All the speakers. I learned about things like the Chilean Education system and possible reforms, the Chilean Family structure and its implications, the Chilean navy, and much more. And I was continually impressed by the eloquence of the Rotarians who spoke-the representative of Rotary International's President-a past district governor from Argentina made several speeches which were thoughtful and impressive, summarizing the role of Rotary, its interconnected nature, and the places it is going.

In short, I was moved by the weekend. Moved by the relationships I saw-the projects that are happening--and the people that are involved. "Senalamos el Rumbo" (We) Lead the way. an appropriate slogan for an international group that has touched the lives of so many people, and continues to break down new barriers and internationally cooperate to make change.

Here are some of the pictures I took over the weekend (ignore the shoes and clothes-those were from my mom):

Rotary

10 reasons (only ten because although there are millions I have to leave some for a certain Holiday Blog that's coming up)

Ok I have to shout out some Mom Love right now. And she does really like Jon Secada, by the way, I have childhood memories that are filled with his voice in the background.

With Mother's Day coming up around the corner, I am filled with some major mom appreciation. Not to mention the fact that even though I get to talk to her pretty often, I just miss her voice a lot, miss laughing with her until we cry and begin to do that shaky heavy gaspy laughing-and I even miss arguing with her sometimes. I miss knowing i could get in a car and be with my family in four hours--it's funny how far away that seemed before.

But My mom, who is amazing, decided to send me some grand packages. Not just any packages, but the largest most intricate packages you could ever imagine.

So Ten reasons 10 reasons (only ten because although there are millions I have to leave some for a certain Holiday Blog that's coming up)
why I have the MOST AMAZING MOM that I don't deserve who should be given a trophy or chocolate or better yet a vacation for one to some place where some large harry-chested man named Sven (or dad-but that grosses me out) gives her a back massage while she sips on Pina Coladas and listens to Jon Secada's greatest hits playing softly in carribean breeze:

1. Sweaters. She sent me lots of wonderfully, warm sweaters, and it's really cold here. It was so lovely to be wearing my own warm things again.thanks mom

2. New things. Don't you love it when you're reminded how well your mom really knows you? My mom went out and bought me a pair of brown dress pants, a beautiful scarf (with green in it of course), and some awesome jewelry--all stuff that I literally jumped up and down when I saw because I liked them so much. Because my mom knows me, and since "we are what we are"--sometimes it's nice to be reminded that people know who we are and care.thanks mom

3. MOVIES--Woooo whooo-I got movies, I got movies, I got movies hey, hey, hey, hey.
movies in english, movies in english, movies in english--hey, hey, hey ,hey. (that only works if you imagine porky from the Little Rascals singing it)

My mom sent me movies.like great pride and prejudice great. thanks mom.

4. BOOKS! books in english, books in spanish, books I needed for class-books she just knew i liked and hadn't read yet. I love you mom.

5. Large black gloves that would withstand a hurricane. If my hands encounter a hurricane--they'll make it through. thanks mom.

6. THIN MINT GIRL SCOUT COOKIES that I promptly put in the freezer. nough said.thanks mom

7.large, colorful, Hawaiian looking things for my home mom--I think one of them was a towel and one of them looked like a puffy flower, but I know that mom sticks with her themes so I know it has some kitchen usage--not to mention that she sent a bag and tissue paper to put the gifts in to give to Ana Maria--Mom, she's always thinking.thanks mom

8.my blue pants. I have these blue wind pants kinda things that are big and baggy. I've had them for several years, and they're kinda feel good pants. You know how you have those?? Like pants you put on with big sweatshirts and scarves and lounge in--pants you feel more like you in--and I thought I had packed them but couldn't find them and thought they were lost forever, and my mom found them--up in the abyss of my room and I've already worn them like twenty times, and I feel better already. thanks mom

9. Chocolate Chips and Pancake mix!!!! Wooo whooooo I'm gonna make more pancakes and cookies! yea!thanks mom

10. she sent me so much more and she does SOOO much for me even though she does have three other children, two of which are preteen-teens. But she also sent me this little bear with a tshirt on that says love ya.

I love ya too mom. thanks. you're the best, and I don't deserve you.

Gender and The Nation in Hispanic American Novels from the 19th and 20th centuries

I don't really have to much to say that wouldn't bore you I'm sure, but this may be an ongoing theme in my blog because I love this class. Even though it is just me, this other guy that looks like he's over thirty, and the professor. That's right. I'm talking a lot. We are just talking about things that I love talking about. It's so interesting to me to see how identity struggles manifest themselves within the literature, the ways that gender and national identity intertwine and play similar roles, are constructed in similar ways.

I'm also super interested in thinking about the ways "America" has shaped its national and gender identity based on it's oppressive history as a whole--how North, Central, and South America are similar and different in their formations and searches for national identity. This is good stuff folks.

and this may have to become a weekly, Thursday episode blog after my class. ok. done.

I have been hesitant

to blog about this just because I'm not too sure about anything for sure yet. But I had a professor who asked me to go speak to another professor who runs the english department for students who want to learn english but are not English majors. and I had a cool bilingual interview with her, and she offered me a job (super part time of course).

But the coolest part, is that she would like me to stay with them for a while. Meanwhile, around the same time my professors had started mentioning to me that I should really enroll in the masters program officially. So, I'm thinking that at the end of the year after I go home for a few months, I may come back and teach for a year and a half or so and get my masters in latin american lit while I'm here. So what do you think? I promise I will visit more if I come back. I'm definitely not for sure or anything yet. I just really like my classes and am really excited by everything I'm reading, and I think it might be good for me. So, that's where I'm at now. . . and I'm still thinking about it--but I think I might love to apply to a comparative lit phd program when I get back (maybe) and this might be a great place to start. What do you think?

We're Moving

It's official. We are moving. Let's just say we are not content where we are. And by "We" I mean Akshai and I. We would like to cook, to have our own space, to feel more independent, to be out on our own. So, we are looking for an apartment, and I am absolutely stoked about it. I would love to live with Chileans too, but we are looking for a three bedroom so that we may have a guest bedroom for all of you who come visit!! Also, if I end up staying then I can rent out the other rooms once Akshai leaves, and that will be fun too. Ok--so there will be many more updates on this because we are trying to move within the next week or so. Wish Us Luck!!!!

Next up: my blog about the DESERT!!! I WENT SAND BOARDING-Wait til you see like the 300 pictures I took- stay tuned. it should be up sometime tonight! seriously-sand boarding!