Padres

Padres: "pah-drays" n. parental unit, momsicle and popsicle, momma and papa, the folks, the voices of reason (sometimes)

After a far too long respite from blogging, I'm finally back! I have a good excuse, however. The padres finally traversed the 5,000+ miles to Chile. In the week leading up to their arrival I was running around frantically buying power converters, sending them far too long emails with lists of things to bring, researching fun things you can do in a meager four days, and squirming with anticipation (and skipping a class or two along the way). At long last, directly from the airport, they crossed the threshold of my big yellow house, enveloped in the welcoming arms and excited cries of my host mom before they even got to me. My parents had their first famous Chilean mixed drink, the Pisco Sour, within minutes of arriving, complemented by the Chilean version of Pringles and dip (slightly strange to see Pringles on a silver platter but I'm not complaining!)

My TWO families...and Shelby my gatita!

My host mom (so confused... both my mamá and my mom together?!) prepared a huge fish lunch (which is more like a four course dinner for twenty) for our entire families. My host sister Marcela was luckily in town from Santiago, so all three siblings were present together for the first time (the sisters having been "dramatically feuding" for the past several weeks). It was much easier to converse than I originally anticipated, thanks to Marcela and Paula who both lived in the US and can speak English and help me translate. My Dad's ridiculous personality had them all cracking up for days despite his complete lack of ability to speak/read/understand/pretend Spanish (and is still commonly chuckled at despite the fact that he went back the USA), and my host mom couldn't stop gushing about how "linda preciosa" my real mom is. 

Of course, Mark (the pops) HAD to rent a car, it's practically encoded in his DNA, so he got lost looking for the Sheraton Miramar, the largest, fanciest hotel on the coast, impossible to miss, while Mom and I sat outside waiting for him for half an hour, having walked there in five minutes time. We only had one night there and didn't intend to waste any time using it! After getting settled in our ocean-view room (every single room has a view) and seeing all the US goodies they had brought for me (á la Reese's, Pepperidge Farm, Diet Dr.Pepper, yumm), we headed down to the café for drinks/coffee and the sunset. Though the hotel is on the beach, it was still chilly spring weather for all four days they were here so we watched from our seats inside (which still look directly West over Valparaíso). Of course now, one week later, it's 75 and sunny. Mom and I later explored the gym and jacuzzi facilities while Mark agonized over the Tigers (who, you're welcome world, were able to knock the Yankees out of the post season). Finally, I had to take them to Entre Masas, only the best empanada restaurant in the world.

Quintay, Chile

In the morning, Dad and I rolled out of bed and back to my house to talk to his 8th grade Global Studies class via Skype. I translated their questions about Chile, the University strike, and life in general for  María José (a girl who rents a room in my house)to answer. Typically chatty Mark tried to contain himself in the background and we more or less ran his entire 45-minute class (for what was intended to be a 15 minute interview). After a successful class period, we returned to the Sheraton for a lazy start at the gym and went off in search of a good panadería on Calle Valparaíso (which is actually in Viña del Mar), my parents' favorite street, for all of its bustle and people milling about. We finally made it out to Valparaíso later to explore and search for one of Mark's different restaurant ideas. After getting horribly lost (despite our GPS) in Cerro Alegría (and a few others I believe), we arrived at our restuarant, and it was closed. CLOSED. So we moved on to option two...blocked by road construction. We must have done something bad in our past lives as dung beetles or whatever because it was past four o'clock by this point and we were dying of starvation. We finally settled on a café on the corner of a random street (I had a gigantic egg sandwich which was to die for) and later stumbled upon an artisan shop where Dad claims we spent over an hour buying amazingly cheap and well-made jewelry but lord knows he exaggerates when he wants to be watching Michigan football...not that he could have found it here in Chile anyways. Finally, we switched hotels to "3 Poniente", explored the other side of Viña near my CIEE class building a bit, got lost some more, and went out to ConCon to try the food at La Gatita, famous for its seafood and huge portions. Dad was impressed, Mom and I not so much. To make up for our disappointmen, we hit Bravissimo for some late night ice cream (including my parents' first Manjar flavor.)

Pizza Chef Mark, taking over Mama Sonia's cocina

On Saturday we all trekked out to Quintay, an old ex-whaling town on the water that has become a little scuba haven and tourist attraction for its seclusion, great restaurants, little museum, and great view. We met with my Mom's friendfrom the States and her son, who ironically lives in Santiago and who they were visiting at the same time. We found some great jewelry sold by artists along the beach and took tons of photos. Our meal at "Miramar" was equally awesome. Hopefully I'll stay with Jeremy and his wife Alexa the next time I visit Santiago! By the time we got home, it was time to eat again (for the Americans...the rest of the Chileans in the world were probably happy with their bread and tea). We went to try some Kuntsmann (yes, it's actually a Chilean beer) and I had one that is actually mixed with pineapple juice, try it sometime it's pretty good. We got lost so much driving around anyway that we bought some ice cream bon bons on the street and finished them by the time I was dropped off back at home.

If you're still with me, I know you're my true friend!  Thanks for bearing with me in this incredibly long tome of a post. 

My sisters

Drummers and fire breather!

On Sunday, we cooked pizza from scratch for my host family, something they had never cooked/eaten before!? Patty made one of her famous salads and I "warmed" the Oatmeal Carmelitas that she had made in the states (my favorite!). Every other bite was someone begging for the recipes. I was so glad to be able to give my family a meal for once and even happier that they enjoyed it. After lunch, we went to Museo al Cielo Abierto, an outdoor free graffiti mural museum in the hils of Valparaíso. It was an adventure in itself fitting my three siblings as well as the three of us all in one car, but everyone enjoyed themselves and no one had ever been there (or heard of it) except me so it felt good to be able to pass something interesting along to the Chileans. We all even stumbled upon the end of the carnaval "Mil Tambores Para Violeta Parra," with a group of drummers in the park playing for a big crowd of happy onlookers. After heading back to the hotel and exploring the neighborhood a bit (and finding yet another fun artsy store to buy Christmas presents in...yep people they're all for you), we went out for our "last supper" at the Italian restuarant Divino Pecado (Divine Sin), and it was indeed divine. It was so good I'm considering posting a picture of (yes, I took a picture) my mini pancetta and flank steak kebobs that were each on a toothpick. Dad couldn't stop raving about his food and I was afraid he was going to try and ask for a recipe in gibberish. 

Alas, last day. On Monday we ran some last minute errands (aka buying alcohol, etc. and more presents to take back to the States), ate at Entre Masas again, drank our last pisco sours, did a whirlwind trip through the Calle Valparaíso artisan market, and said our goodbyes to my other family. So strange...I have two families. 

Looking back on it now, a week later, I feel an overwhelming sense of nostalgia and a strong desire for these next two months to just hurry up so I can embrace the holiday spirit and bake cookies and see the rest of my extended family and friends, but I keep reminding myself that a) I would be in New Orleans if I wasn't here anyway and b) I'll miss my family here even more from the moment I wave ¡Chao! and step onto the plane.