Fiestas Patrias

Fiestas Patrias: "Fee-est-ahs Pah-tree-ahs" Chilean Independence Day, 18th of September.


1. Algarrobo, Chile
Fiestas Patrias kickoff! I headed about an hour and a half outside of Valparaíso with my brother Dani and his three friends (finally, I was the only gringa amongst Chilenos) to celebrate Chile's Independence Day. Unlike the USA, Chile celebrates for an entire weekend, with most schools off for the entire week (mine included!). Stocking up at a supermarket in Viña del Mar before departing, we headed off with bags of "wraps" (same word) and enough "snacks" (same word again) to feed every single stray dog in Valparaíso. We stopped to walk along the beach, soaking up some long awaited sun and exploring the goods for sale in the various artensanías. I bought a present for a friend (you'll have to wait and see who you are!) which was the first time I've bought anything from an artensanía because I'm a procrastinatory shopper, always making up an excuse not to spend potential travel money because "ehhh i'll be here for three more months, I can do it later, right?" Those of you who know me well are rolling your eyes, but I truly do hate spending my precious Chilean pesos (aka "luka" which means bucks). Apparently I'm not the only one. I was flabbergasted when my brother sent me an email less than 24 hours after our trip telling me to wire 3500 pesos ($7 US) directly to his friend's bank account because he paid for our food with his credit card. After an appalled Facebook status and much head shaking, I told my brother how strange this was that he didn't ask me in person and instead gave me his friends banking number and he explained that its incredibly common for friends to settle money this way. Learning new things every day.

Algarrobo, Chile. (Fran, me, Dani, César, Cio)

But I digress. We all met up with all of Dani's psychology student friends where 13 of them were crammed into a rented cottage close to a great empanada place and "las ramadas," the Chilean version of a state fair put on by nearly every city during Fiestas Patrias. We all enjoyed a very 4th of July-esque casual afternoon before grabbing some empanadas (my favorite being the "Neopolitana" which consists of the fried empanada dough on the outside stuffed with cheese, oregano, diced tomatoes, and ham) and exploring the stands at the fair. The games are all very similar to those at an amusement park, but far more low tech and family operated. Sadly no one seemed to win anything (of course) in the ring-toss-at-bottles game or shoot-the-duck. There were a few unusual things, one being the continuous greyhound dog races and having to pay to play foosball (which is called "taca taca" in Chile so when I was asked if I knew how to play,  I shook my head and they all screamed with glee and disbelief proclaiming I must live under a rock).
Our little group of 5 went to see the sunset at the beach (you have to park faaaaar away per usual) and ended up playing frisbee keep-away with a stray dog who suddenly appeared because frisbee is encoded in canine DNA. I managed to teach three more Chileans how to play so Dad, you can consider my life a success. The Chileans watching us in amazement have probably never seen that many Chilenos keeping a frisbee away from a dog in their lives.
sidenote: I have also now taught 4 Chileans how to use the word "Nifty," which is technically a Chilean ice cream brand, and they find it absolutely hilarious. 
Once we got back to Valparaíso, Dani and his friend Fran and I went to the gigantic "ramadas" at Sporting Club Viña (where I usually play Ultimate Frisbee on their many fields) where traditional Chilean foods, games, dances, and drink (try this: Pisco Sour). I didn't end up dancing any Cueca (despite my many lessons) but there were plenty of caballeros in complete outfits with the spurs and hat and all.

2. Olmué, Chile

mi familia: Dani, Vela the dog, Sonia, Marcela, (Paula)

Asado dinner table- complete with cowboy décor

For the actual Diez y Ocho (18th of September), my host family went to my host Mom's boyfriend's house way out in the boonies at the base of the hilly National Park, La Campana. We had a huge asado (barbeque) dinner with lots of meat and empanadas (surprise surprise). Dani, Fran, and I hiked up a bit of the cerro (hill) to see the breathtaking view and just sat talking for a while, all in Spanish. After dinner we rented a horse for an hour (no paperwork required, God Bless you Chile) and took turns trotting up the steep hill with her. The true adventure, however, was driving back through all of the holiday traffic for two and a half hours for what should have been a half hour drive. My host sister Marcela exclamed "We're moving slower than Windows 93!" and Dani countered, "Psht more like Windows BC."

3. Mendoza, Argentina
Given my ten days sans-escuela, three of my friends and I decided to take a bus about five hours accross the border over to Argentina. After some problems at the border, they finally decided to let the poor sad blonde gringas into the country to buy wine and chocolate. We stayed at Hostel Lagares in a 6 person bunk room but had it to ourselves. Hostels are wonderful for their community feeling: you have to share the bathroom with other travelers, everyone uses the kitchen together and shares the one computer and one TV. We met people from Germany, Poland, and even one from New Orleans who knew one of my Tulane friends who is in my study abroad program.

wine tasting in classy biking clothes

On our first night we found some hearty Italian food (lasagna for me) and chatted up the Argentinean waiter who invited us to go out and celebrate the first day of Spring (a holiday for them) the next night. Sadly we were stood up the next day but ended up meeting the entire University of Buenos Aires futbol (aka soccer to you Americans) team while we were waiting around! We found incredible  ice cream as well at "Bianco & Nero" that would have cost $10 a scoop in the US for the quality and deliciousness, but was incredibly inexpensive.

too original (cheap) to eat at a table

On our first full day we ventured out on our self-guided bike/wine tour, packing our own lunch to eat along the way. Mr. Hugo's Bike Rental has a deal with our hostel (if you stay 3 or more nights, so our 3 night trip worked perfectly) so we were given free bikes for the day. It was a gorgeous, warm, sunny start to the spring so I was able to wear shorts for the first time since I left the States in July. Despite some butt pain from our slightly questionable bikes, we had an amazing day touring local wineries and little chocolate/jam shops. My favorite purchase was a coconut chocolate bar I bought that tasted more like cookie dough. Anyway, rather than pay to eat at the expensive bodegas, we sat beneath the trees with a bottle of wine out in the dusty fields and shared our crackers, cheese, salami, and apples with a sweet stray dog we named Rudy.

Andes Mountains

my best friend the escapee

Day two was a bit colder. By a bit I mean at least 20 degrees. No matter, we braved the wind and cold and trekked out to the Zoo where we made friends with some escaped baboons, feeding them popcorn given to us by a zoo worker despite the "Don't Feed the Animals" signs clearly marked on the popcorn machine. It made me a bit sad to see how overpopulated their cat exhibits were, with many of the big cats alone in a cramped cage. Their birds, however, were gorgeous and I also discovered a newfound love for a wooly, horned breed of sheep called "Ovejas de Jacob," or Jacob's Sheep. That night we also endured Chicago-like cold to go check out the brave souls of the artisan market and their hand-made crafts. Beautiful jewelry and leather goods that would cost an arm and a leg at a craft fair in the US were but a few dollars.
Our trip home was an adventure in itself. To make a long story short, we were on at least 4 different buses for a total of twelve hours. It should have been one bus, five hours. One of our "rescue" buses was double stuffed, the stragglers standing or squatting in the aisles until we reached the  border. However, one of our breakdowns was in the middle of the Andes Mountains for three hours, so we made the best of the situation and explored the stunning landscape, stopping along abandoned train tracks or giant boulders resting on patches of snow. By the end of the fiasco, everyone on the bus were good friends, with plenty of inside jokes and Mate Tea to share.

Lots of Words. One Epic Week of Fiestas Patrias.

Felicidad en Rabuco

Felicidad! n. happiness "fell-ee-see-dahd"

Moving on from a rather sad post, I have yet to fill you in on the fun trip I took last weekend to Rabuco, Chile. Out in the countryside a bit over an hour away from Viña del Mar, we were surrounded by huge cerros (or "mountains" as someone in Ohio would call them) and nestled into a valley of farmland. The farm we spent the day at is owned and run by a family originally from Santiago who had enough of the smog and bustle and decided to get back to nature. They raise goats, wild flowers, horses, and fruit (probably more, but that's what we had time to see!). They even had a litter of puppies running around and offered them to us for free...sadly I couldn't take one.

Naranjal 

The farm house had an open air kitchen as well as a yard with gazebos, pool, and surround sound. (I guess they couldn't leave all of Santiago's luxuries behind). With Fiestas Patrias coming this weekend (Chile takes an entire week off to celebrate Independence Day on September 18th), we were taught how to make empanadas from scratch by a chef and as were toured the naranjals (orange groves) and acres of land, the chef continued to cook a feast for us upon our return.

Cueca profesional

The naranjals were unlike anything I would have expected in Chile during the winter. Row upon row of ripe oranges hanging from trees, ready to be snatched by hungry gringos on their long tour of the farm. I probably ate four, even bringing one home for my host mom. We also were taken out to see the horses and the unripe avocados and plums. Once back at the farmhouse, our chef had prepared a smorgasbord of empanadas, fresh pan (bread), chicken from the stone oven, quiche, rice, avocado and tomato salad, and potato salad (actually very common here). For desert we had fruit salad (also very common) and later raspberry and apple pie as well as galletas (cookies). By the end all of us were laying on the grass, too full to move, think, or speak.

Campeonato de Cueca

After lunch, we were lucky to see professional cueca (national dance of Chile) in full costume as we digested. It's a very coquettish dance with handkerchiefs and lots of circling around one another. Once able to move, we had to learn the cueca ourselves. Fortunately, I'd already gone to two cueca lessons and wasn't completely lost, but sadly my partner and I did not advance to the next round of our gringo championships (four rounds in total, the winners received a handkerchief and tiny hat ornament...which were of course immediately worn as real hats). To complete our day of pre-Fiestas Patrias activities, we all played "Chilean" games, aka sack races, egg on a spoon races, and 3-legged races. My team won two of the events, and two lollipops as a result. The only difference between the Chilean version of these games is that the losers for once did not merit their own lollipops and were left prize-less.
A very successful and full day indeed. Pun intended.

Ah before I forget! I have officially experienced 7 temblores (tremors) and 1 terremoto (earthquake) by US standards. Chileans, however, just shake their heads at correct me, "No, 8 temblores." At four AM two nights ago we experienced a 5.9 magnitude "tremor" that was strong enough to wake nearly everyone, yet I for once barely noticed it and was more aware of the fact that my host mom opened my door to see if I was awake and the light woke me up. No damage was done. In the United States the press would be having a field day, but I heard nothing about it on the morning news. To put it into perspective, the recent East Coast Earthquake in the USA was just a 5.8 on the richter scale.

Felipe

I regret not having written about this sooner, but in the wake of the tenth anniversary of September 11th I was reminded that Chile had been suffering the entire week prior as well. On September 2, 2011 (just over a week ago) around 6pm, a military plane carrying 21 people crashed into the Pacific Ocean while travelling to San Juan Fernández Island, also known as Robinson Crusoe island. Aboard the plane were journalists and staff members of the news station TVN and the program "Levantemos Chile." Also aboard were members of a non-profit group dedicated to the economic stabilization and rebuilding of infrastructure after the 2010 Earthquake that devastated Chile as well as members of Chile's Ministry of Culture and the Chilean Air Force. 

credit:http://www.lacopucha.com/wp-content/uploads/el-
ultimo-vuelo-del-alcon-Felipe-Camiroaga.jpg

All of these people were on a mission to assist in the  redevelopment of the island in the aftermath of earthquake's tsunami. To put this tragedy in perspective for those not familiar with Chile's celebrities, losing Felipe Camiroaga, the anchor and face of "Levantemos Chile" is like losing Matt Lauer, Jay Leno, and Brad Pitt on the same flight. Some would say it's more like losing Oprah.  Felipe, as he is affectionately called, was known for using his celebrity for public service and charity. My host mother couldn't go but a few hours without mentioning his name for at least a week, and confided that she cried upon first hearing the news. The only positive she could think of to brighten the situation was that now we wouldn't have to hear about the student protests, strikes, or talks with the president for a few days or weeks. Moreover, on September 11th, there was not one blip of news about the memorial services occurring in the United States nor the nearly 3,000 people that died in the terrorist attacks ten years ago, but my host mother assured me that Chile felt the pain of that day as well. I felt a bit lost, outside of my country with no one to discuss my emotions with nor easy access to news coverage, but I reflected quietly upon my experience on that third day of middle school at a new school where all I could remember was confusion and replaying that horrible footage late into the evening. It seems too easy to allow something so painful to become a pacified, accepted memory of the past; Chilean news also spoke little of the September 11, 1973 coup that overthew Chile's democratically elected president Allende and placed military dictator Pinochet in power, who went on to kill and torture thousands. However, my host mother emphasized that 9/11 is a horrible day for us all, but the wounds of September 2, 2011 are still raw. They just found parts of Felipe's body yesterday. 

Santiago

Sorry I've become such a floja blog poster!
floja: adj. "flow-ha" lazy
I saw that I've had 712 page views and realized that some of you really do care about what I have to say and want to know what I've been up to! So here goes:
Santiago: Last weekend I was able to visit the capital city for one day/night only, but managed to jam in as much as possible, including the Museo de Derechos Humanos (Human Rights Museum). However depressing the content and gloomy the weather outside, it was fascinating to learn about what atrocities were actually ocurring during Chile's years of military dictatorship that only ended a mere 30-odd years ago. As a student of African studies as well, I am always captivated by the human experience, learning about both the horrors as well as the positives that people have undergone in our brief history here on Earth.
Moving away from the dreary start of my trip, we also were able to split up into groups and explore. My friends and I chose to head over to the Universidad de Chile in the center of Santiago to see what damage has been done in the past several months of student protest, and it was breathtaking. Truly beautiful and heart-wrenching to see the amount of work put into the immense hand-painted banners and flyers that covered the massive yellow and white building of European architecture. The essence of tear gas was in the air, I myself sneezing at least 15 times, but we walked up and down the block listening to amateur soapbox orators and DJs blasting their thoughts from bull horns and giant stacks of amps. I bought a button for a dollar that reads "Vamos" (Let's Go!) in front of a Chilean flag.

view from about 3/4 up Cerro Santa Lucía

Friends Paige and Elyse at the bottom of Santa Lucía

We continued along our way, stopping in a few old, dimly lit churches that reminded me of Spain. We also explored the "Drug Store," a galeria style mall of sorts with boutiques and small, overpriced shops, and I was able to resist purchasing anything in order to save for my October trip to Machu Picchu. We even tried to get into the grand Palacio Moneda, but we were blocked out of it by some stern carabineros in green trench coats (that somewhat resembled kilts....) due to the frequent student protests. The entire lawn was even blockaded as if it were Mardi Gras, with only a few lonely street dogs lounging in the grass. Finally, we climbed the Cerro Santa Lucía, a sort of Central Park-esque oasis in the center of Santiago that rises above the city, with platform after platform of terraces and fountains, statues and neatly trimmed trees, a couple kissing on every bench. If you are determined enough to climb to the top along some treacherous staircases, you reach the highest point, a watch tower of sorts, with a 360 degree view of the city. All around you rise skyscrapers in every direction, and in the distance, if you can see past the unfortunately trapped and hovering smog, lie the Andes Mountains.
The following day, my class and I went to a Taller de arte, (Tay-air day artay), or artists workshop, to meet and work with the resident artist himself. He worked mostly in print making, all of his work done on wooden slabs and then pressed onto paper with black ink. Our class even carved our own...*cough*interesting...piece and everyone was able to operate the press.
Finally, we ate lunch at a Peruvian restaurant, many trying ceviche (although I was not a brave soul, my lobster ravioli was delicious, aka "rico") or Peruvian soda (which tastes like melted bubble gum).
Since my trip to Santiago, which I would consider a short and sweet success, I've also started my volunteer position which I think will be challenging but rewarding as I work with some extremely unmotivated little girls on their reading and math.