Mendoza: Part II

Some of my readers (okay, that sounds completely pretentious) may remember that I had an eventful trip to Mendoza last year.  It was a free trip put on my the Chilean government and I spent more time at the border than in the actual city of Mendoza.  This time I was prepared for the worst.  I bought snacks, charged my iPod, brought a book, but this time the traveling went off without a hiccup.  We took an overnight bus, which left from Santiago around 11pm and arrived in Mendoza at about 5am with less than an hour at the border.  Everything was going perfectly.  Famous last words.

Arriving at 5am was a bit of a surprise.  All the experience I'd had and others had at the border pointed to a longer trip and we expected to arrive around 8 or 9am and then we were hopeful we could check into our room.  Turns out, you can't really do that at 5am without buying a bed for the night and that becomes tricky when the whole hostel is booked.  Luckily we were in South America, which means that things stay open all night so we went to try to find a club.  The clubs weren't letting anyone in so we found a cafe that sold liters of Argentine beer (Quilmes, my favorite) and sat outside in the cold trying to pass the time.  After some walking and exploring we decided to retire to the couches inside the hostel.  After less than two hours of sleep we went to exchange our money into Argentine pesos and get breakfast to alleviate the crankiness that was quickly building.  After some sandwiches and coffee we were rejuvenated and we arrived back to the hostel to find that we could check in.  I enjoyed one of the best hostel showers of my life there.

The hostel offered a wine tour on a bus for a mere 75 Argentine pesos (about $20 US) which included tastings at two different wineries, an olive press and a chocolateria.  The first winery was family owned and small.  They had quite a few varietals and gave us a nice tour.

Vineyards at Cecchin Family Winery

Tasting at Cecchin

From left: Emma (my coworker), Me and Jenna

Friends outside Cecchin.  From left: Jami, me, Jenna, Kortnee

I bought a bottle of Malbec there, which is a varietal in which Argentina specializes, and then sadly broke it on my way out of the hostel the next day.  It's alright, though, because my friend shared her Malbec rosé with me, which was something I'd never heard of before.

Vineyards at the larger winery

After Cecchin we went to a larger more industrial winery.  The tour there was quicker and they showed us their underground storage.  Frankly, I'm a bit of a veteran when it comes to wine country so the tours didn't peak my interest too much.  The tasting there had a bit more variety and we tried a couple varietals I had never heard of. 

Onward we went to the olive press.  Our tour guide was pretty weird and kind of spoke like a robot so I didn't get much out of the tour but the olive trees were lovely and the old equipment was cool to look at.  We had a tasting of oil, olives and tapenade that couldn't have come at a better time since no one had eaten since breakfast and we were all full of wine.

The spread at the olive press

Finally we hit up a chocolateria/licoria that I actually visited last year.  We tried a lot of chocolate, chocolate liqueurs, dulce de leche and smoked cheese.  I wanted to buy everything in site but on the meager salary of a teacher I could only afford the bottle of wine I'd bought earlier.  And that of course I later destroyed.

That night we had dinner at a parrilla, which is an Argentine restaurant that specializes in meat, meat and more meat.  Everyone ordered steak, because you just have to order steak in Argentina.  I split a steak with Emma and our meal also came with a bottle of Malbec and dessert.  Needless to say we were fat, happy and a little tipsy when we left the restaurant.  We passed the rest of the night sipping on some of the wine we had bought throughout the day and I and about half the group called it an early night so as not to be completely dead the next day.

Jenna and me outside our hostel

We checked out at 10 and had about three hours to kill before half of us left for Santiago.  The rest of the group was determined to squeeze every single drop of adventure out of the trip so they planned another overnight bus trip.  Having been to Mendoza once before I wasn't dismayed to leave a little early in hopes of getting a good night's sleep.

The bus trip home was almost uneventful.  About and hour before we hit the border one of our bus' tires blew out, rocking the bus and scaring the buh-jeezus out of me and my friend, Lindsey.  Our driver pulled over and the men on the bus promptly exited and got to work putting on a spare.  I couldn't help but note the difference in the attitude of the passengers in comparison to what I would imagine would be the attitude of the passengers in the same situation in the US.  No one was flipping out, no one was getting on their Blackberrys, no one was screaming at the driver.  Everyone sat patiently until we could safely drive to have it repaired and that fact alone made the experience so much more tolerable.  The energy in the air wasn't strained and irritated, everyone was calm and chilled out.  I love this country.

We pulled into the "mechanic" which was an empty field with a shack in it that appeared to be abandoned.  After a couple minutes we saw a young boy (maybe 13 years old) cruising over on an ATV.  He dismounted and promptly began to work on the bus.  No one seemed to be concerned about this so Lindsey and I hopped off the bus and played with a local stray puppy for a while.  After less than an hour we were all back on the bus and headed to the border.  Another uneventful border experience, three more hours on the bus and I was back home in smoggy Santiago with a couple more stamps on my passport and some more good memories under my belt.

Photo credits: Jami Herring

Article from Santiago Times

It's hard to believe poverty like this still exists in a world where some people spend $1,000 on a pair of shoes. 

Te quiero, Chile.  Superas esto.  Superas todo.

Nonstop violence and insecurity rule in a community overrun by drug-dealers 
 

Locals know La Legua as a drug-trafficking hub, riddled with violence and heavy with fear. Tucked into the borough of San Joaquín, just a half hour from downtown Santiago, La Legua's problems were unknown to most Chileans until a Catholic priest, Father Gerard Ouisse, made a desperate cry for help last week.

In a letter, Ouisse told the prosecutor's office that the people of La Legua live as though still under dictatorship, ruled by fear and insecurity. Many keep their kids out of school, too afraid for their safety to let them out of the house. 

"We live every day under intolerable violence," the letter reads. "We are powerless, forced to hide in our homes while drug-dealers own the streets and walk freely carrying guns. . . . It's common for parents to call their children from work to know if it's safe to come home or if they must wait for the shooting to end."

Authorities arrived in droves the next day. Sen. Soledad Alvear, along with the mayors of San Joaquín, Peñalolén and Puente Alto, visited Ouisse's parish in San Cayetano church. There, they heard first-hand accounts of residents witnessing shootings and hiding in fear. 

Afraid of retaliation, the residents of La Legua who spoke up begged media to withhold their names; they forbade photographs as well. Since word of his letter got out, Ouisse has been under police protection.

Rodrigo Ubilla, undersecretary for the interior, has been charged with developing a plan to "recover" La Legua. Ouisse has begged that the plan not be centered on violence. 

"Repression is not the solution," he told The Santiago Times in an interview. "What we need most of all is long-term social help based in education. We need to recover lost time, and help reintegrate criminals into society, so that La Legua won't be a ghetto any more."

Local politicians echoed Ouisse. 

"We need policies to look out for children whose parents are in prison," said Sen. Alvear. "We must proactively intervene to keep young people from committing crimes, instead of taking measures once the crimes are committed."

Manuel José Ossandón, mayor of Puente Alto - another southern Santiago borough with a reputation for violence - harshly criticized the way La Legua has been treated in the past, and said the current violence is the result of many years of bad social policies. 

"In Chile there is a hidden poverty," said Ossandón. "Many times is not monetary, but is more closely tied to culture, education, quality of life, human development, and the acceptance of violence. Year after year we make the same mistakes, and build new La Leguas all over the country."

Ouisse made sure to note that La Legua is also filled with people who volunteer to "work in solidarity" and help improve the community. "We have soup kitchens, drug rehabilitation and disability programs," he said.  

Ouisse emphasized La Legua's being "a community that wants to move forward, has fought and wants to keep fighting to restore its dignity."

An Afternoon of Lemonade and Art

Inside the artist's studio

Recently I had the pleasure of spending the afternoon with a local artist, Paul Fuguet, in his home with a few friends, pisco sours and a fantastic barbecue.  I met him through a mutual acquaintance and he invited me to a "garage sale" of his 2010 art.  He's moving to Valparaiso in a week and needed to get rid of some of his excess art.  It was a rainy afternoon peppered with stimulating conversation and culture.

Art for sale, too rich for my blood.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He was throwing out a few paintings from his "dark period" that caught my eye.  It's an image of Violeta Parra, a famous Chilean singer with a tragic life story.  He told us that we were free to take the paintings with us without having to pay for them.  It doesn't hurt to be blonde when trying to obtain free art.

Violeta Parra, mine is the one to the right

The artist's tools

Artist and me

Enjoying the scenery

Lollapalooza (Outdoor Imported Music Festival)

 Have you ever noticed how you can look forward to something for so long and then out of nowhere it's over and it almost feels like it was a dream?  I feel that way about Christmas every year.  In fact, that's how I feel about almost all the significant events in my life.  Sometimes it makes me feel like my life is flying by at lightning speed.  I bought tickets for Lollapalooza almost three months ago.  Back then I was still in California.  I hadn't met any of the people I spend all my time with these days.  I had never set foot on the Duoc campus or taught a class of university students.  It almost feels like that was a different life.  It hasn't been that long but so much has changed for me since then that I think about that "Melanie" and she seems almost like a distant stranger.  Like a little sister I had but I don't know anymore.  Well, not quite that heavy.

Anyway...
LOLLAPALOOZA WAS AWESOME!
The first three and a half hours of our time there were possibly the most frustrating of my life.  We arrived at will-call to a giant crowd of people seemingly completely disorganized and all fighting for their tickets.  As is typical of Chile they were completely understaffed and unprepared for the enormous amount of people trying to get to their tickets at the same time.  The number had to be in the thousands and there were perhaps 8 people manning 3 tables trying to get the tickets out.  Once the crowd started to get out of hand the carabineros (police) were called in to try to organize us to little avail.  They came in in droves, with their threatening water cannons on their giant tanks, trying to quell a potential riot.  Somehow I was ushered into a line that didn't go anywhere for nearly 2 hours.  The only reason I made it through to get my ticket was because I started yelling at a Brazilian woman who was screaming at everyone and the Chilean policemen thought it was funny.  One of them thought I was so funny he asked me for my number and then proceeded to call and text me constantly for the next three days, but that's beside the point.  Below is a picture of the SNAFU at will call.

Will Call madness

 Ticket in hand I happily ran into the park and spent the day watching some great bands.  The first day it was Cypress Hill, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, The National and The Killers.  The Killers put on a great show and have been one of my favorite bands since high school.  You can see a little glimpse of their show below.  Edward Sharpe was great too despite the fact that his show was in an indoor arena which meant that it was like sitting in a sauna for an hour, half of which was silent due to technical difficulties.

The Killers

 The second day we were able to walk in with the wristbands we'd received the day before and not having to wait in the will call line made all the difference to how the day started.  I had 100x more energy and I knew that a great day was ahead of me because there were almost twice as many bands playing as the day before that I really wanted to see.  The day started off with 311, which was nice and mellow.  From there I moved on to Chico Trujillo, which is a Chilean band.  They were so much fun and we spent the whole show jumping and dancing around.  This is them below.

Chico Trujillo

A new friend and an old Chilean friend

 After Chico Trujillo we met up with some other Teaching Chile participants.  I think almost the whole program was at the festival.  We sat in the grass and listened to the Flaming Lips and Sublime with Rome.  Those two groups are so chill and relaxing it was wonderful to just sit barefoot on the lawn in the sun, sipping on piscolas and enjoying time with friends. 

One of the larger stages

 As the sun went down Jane's Addiction came out.  The frontman of Jane's Addiction, Perry Ferrel is the genius behind Lollapalooza.  Although I'm not the biggest fan of his music you have to respect a guy who can successfully throw a party for tens of thousands of people.  The last act we saw of the day was Kanye West, who was disappointing as always for which I was incredibly thankful because I did not feel the least bit guilty about leaving early so I could get on the metro with no problem.  I fell into my bed completely exhausted but so very very happy and content I fell asleep in about ten seconds with a smile on my face.  As usual, I needed a weekend to recover from my weekend and Monday came all too soon.  Back to life.  Back to reality.

Grazing in the grass is a gas, can you dig it?

Pre-Lollapalooza smiles

Photo credits: Jenna Rymer and Kortnee Byrd

(Trying to) Stay Positive

Some days I wake up, look in the mirror and think ¨What the hell am I doing?¨

I don´t mean to sound as though I´m not enjoying my time here in Santiago.  This place is, and always will be, one of my favorite cities in the whole world.  I love where I live, I love my friends and I even love my job.  The problem is I only love my job when I´m doing it.  The rest of the time it´s kind of a nightmare.

I´m in my fourth week of teaching.  I can hardly believe it.  I still can hardly believe anyone would hire me to be a college professor.  When I think back to week one I remember the optimistic thoughts I had.  I was sure things would start to come together, that I would get more guidance, that I would get paid, etc.  To my chagrin, none of this seems to be happening.  I´ve been a part of the Chilean school system before so the disorder isn´t exactly a surprise.  It is a surprise how much worse it is on the teacher´s end.  Allow me to enumerate my woes.

1) It seems that the likelihood of receiving a paycheck on payday (this Friday) is incredibly slim.  Apparently it is entirely typical for the first check to be late.  They shared this information with us and said ¨So don´t worry about it.¨ I´m sorry, it´s tough not to worry about not being paid when you´ve been working for a month and your rent is due, your fridge is empty and your metro card is low.  I think they are laboring under the delusion that we are a bunch of rich Americans with unlimited funds and while my parents will never let me starve or lose the roof over my head I shouldn´t have to ask them to send me money.  I´ve been working as a full time college professor as a month.  Give me a break.

2) We don´t have our login information necessary to access our online resources.  This means we can´t assign our students online assignments which are not only 10% of their grades (supposedly) but are also useful practice for the quizzes we give.  Also, somehow, lacking our login information is another reason our paychecks are going to be delayed and as many times as I have emailed my director(s) and as much as they are ¨trying to work everything out¨nothing seems to be getting accomplished.

3) We still don´t have a locker.  Now, this isn´t the biggest crisis in the world but more of a further indication of how little we seem to mean to this institution.  Apparently all that is necessary for us to gain access to our shared locker, which the American English teachers have every semester, is for a formal email to be written requesting it.  A) How ridiculous is it that that is necessary for us to be granted a locker? B) How ridiculous is it that if that´s all that is required we haven´t gotten it yet?  The answers to A & B are ¨completely ridiculous.¨

4) Our listening exercise CDs to use in class don´t work.  How hard is it to burn a CD?

5) While all these woes have been shared between me and my other three American English teachers for four weeks now and while we have each communicated these woes to several different directors not only has nothing been taken care of, we never receive communication about when these things might be taken care of.  This is what frustrates me more than anything, the sheer lack of communication.  I feel like I´m constantly fumbling around in the dark.

The Teaching Chile directors have been as helpful as they can because now we are mostly in the hands of Duoc.  I know that our directors are busy and dealing with a lot, but frankly so are we.  We are dealing with living in another country, speaking a foreign language, teaching at a college level without training and all the while having to worry about being paid and having to field questions from our students that we don´t have the answers for.  The time I have in the classroom is an incredibly positive experience but I´m afraid that so far the time outside has not been when it comes to dealing with my job.  I hope things change because I want to teach for another semester but honestly the last four weeks have me seriously considering taking my chances with finding another job in July.

Week 1

Ay. Dios. Mio.  "Week 1" is hardly the title for this entry since I haven't written in about two weeks but since this was actually the first week I did any teaching I decided to go with it. 

We got back from our blissful beach vacation without a hiccup, arriving the day before the program was officially set to start.  When we left the hostel 5 days earlier it had been completely empty and when we came back we found that it was packed to the brim with Teaching Chile participants.  Jenna and I were moved into an 8-person all-girls dorm room where every bed was occupied but one.  I feel I don't really need to describe the chaos that accompanies 8 girls sharing a room, especially when each one of those 8 girls also has luggage for the next 10 months.  The room was almost a disaster from the get-go and would only get worse as time wore on.  But that first night was so exciting with all the new people to meet that we could hardly think about the days to come. 

That night the hostel threw us a little party.  Well, they charged $7 a person and made us sushi.  I and two other girls opted to make our own dinner and then just join the party later, thereby saving about $5.  By about 8pm the party was hopping.  It seemed like everyone had brought a bottle of wine and there were close to 50 of us there.  There was Spanish and English flying around as well as accents from all over the US, Ireland, Britain and Canada.  People from as young as 21, freshly graduated from college all the way to a couple in their 50s who woke up one day and said "Hey, I'm tired of working at a desk job."  We partied well into the morning, even the people who had just gotten off a 12 hour flight and eventually retired to be prepared for the meeting the next morning.

That next morning we officially met Bruce and Andrea, our directors.  Our parents.  Our caregivers.  Our guardian angels.  They run the program almost solely themselves and they manage to stay two of the most positive and engaging people I have ever met.  You would think that constantly trying to manage a group of 70 (in total) foreigners in South America as well as running a business that doles our English teachers to Chilean universities would make someone stressed and unpleasant.  Bruce and Andrea are the complete opposite of that.  They are warm, helpful and they watch out for us like a lioness watches out for her cubs. Seriously, when we were getting our Chilean ID cards there was a Chilean woman there who was angry about us being there and said we were taking too long and we should let the Chileans go ahead of her.  Andrea, who is Chilean herself though she speaks perfect English, took it upon herself to basically tell the woman where she could stick her attitude.  It was awesome.  Anyway, we had a meeting with them, which I thought would maybe some teacher training but was really more just some helpful tips about living in Chile, most of which I'd already heard last year.  It was nice to get to know our directors though.  The training would come later...right?

Sunday we had a free day and then Monday we had to take what is called the TOEIC.  I don't remember what that stands for, but it's the same test our students have to take at the end of the year in order to pass the class.  It's an English comprehension test.  Ridiculously easy for a native speaker but I could see how it would be tricky for a non-native speaker.  It was interesting to try to look at it from that point of view and I guess that was the point.

Tuesday we went to get our Chilean IDs.  This is not a particularly complicated process but it is a long one, mostly involving standing in lines and waiting around.  And of course the aforementioned awesome telling-off by Andrea.  Afterward she took us to an awesome sandwich shop owned by a Korean guy who makes Korean-Chilean infusion sandwiches.  They were fantastic.

Wednesday we had kind of an official day, meaning we had to dress in business casual.  We went to one of the Duoc campuses, the closest one to our hostel, and listened to a couple presentations.  The first one was by the head honcho at Duoc.  "El jefe."  He told us about Duoc, some of the history, what its mission statement is, etc.  Basically it's a trade school with degrees in things like graphic design and IT.  Since it is business oriented they require all their students to take at least 2 semesters of English so that they can have better luck in the business world.  That's where we come in!  Cheap labor that actually really works because the best way to learn a language is to be immersed in it.  After his presentation a young man named Scott, who's been here for 8 months and who does exactly what we do, got up to do a presentation about what to expect when teaching.  He is just so great.  I have never seen someone so excited and passionate about the job they do.  He put everyone at ease and made us feel like this is going to be the best year of our lives.

Thursday all we had to do was find our campuses.  Some people had meetings with their individual directors but the teachers at my school didn't.  We knew we had them on Friday so we wanted to make sure we knew how to get there on time.  The commute wasn't short, that's for sure.  It's going to take some getting used to.  If I can get a seat on the metro then it's a good time to grade work but if I can't then it's 45 minutes of my life I'll never get back.  Some days I have to be at work at 8:15 which means leaving my apartment at 7.  I guess this is what it means to be an adult? 

Teacher's lounge...am I allowed in there? Oh, right.  I'm a teacher.

Renovating

Cool, right?

On Friday we met with our director and the other English teachers.  Okay, finally we'll get some training.  I mean, we have to teach in 3 days, they have to train us, right?  Uh, no.  The meeting lasted for about an hour.  They gave us a little manual, some books and told us they'd send our schedule and lesson planning materials by email.  Everyone was super nice and seemed really eager to give us any help we needed.  Except, of course, that pesky training.

So then is was the weekend.  And Monday loomed as the first day I would ever teach a class.  I had some books, but I knew the students wouldn't have theirs yet so they were sort of useless.  I had some lesson planning guidelines, which are actually very helpful.  And I had...well...my charm and good looks?  That weekend we ended up going out quite a bit, possibly to alleviate the stress of the coming week and possibly because by then we would do anything to get out of the hostel.  I cannot tell you how sick I became of showers that only stayed an ideal temperature for 30 seconds before switching to ice cold or boiling hot.  Or floors so dirty that as soon as my feet hit the ground they were black.  Or a room so full of people that the lights didn't go off until 2am and the alarms started going off at 6am meaning that for about 2 weeks I got roughly 5 hours of sleep a night.  Sometimes less.  This is where my new roommate comes in.

I had received an email about two days earlier saying that a friend of mine had mentioned me to this girl and said I needed a place to live.  The price and location were right, according to the email so I agreed to come check it out.  The place is small, but perfectly adequate.  I have my own room and my own bathroom.  There is a housekeeper who comes twice a month and leaves the place spotless.  There is a rooftop pool on top of the building.  We live on the 11th floor and we have a balcony overlooking one of my favorite vistas in the world (the Santiago skyline.)  I saw, I wanted, I took.  After looking at the place and thinking about it for almost 20 whole minutes I decided to take it.  The price, location, bathroom, housekeeping and pool were too good to pass up.  Also, my new roommate is a Chilean girl in her early thirties, so I will be constantly surrounded by Spanish.  She seems really cool too.  We sat around watching "Friends" this evening.  I think it's going to be a good situation.  Here are some photos of the new apartment.

The kitchen

Living room

MY bathroom

My room

Santiago skyline

So I've now been teaching for a week!  I feel like a complete noob (newbie) but I'm slowly getting the hang of it.  It's the most bizarre thing in the world to be addressed as "Profe" when 3 months ago I was sitting in a university classroom.  I have basic and intermediate level classes.  No one really seems to speak any English but I find that if I talk slowly, mime and supplement with some occasional Spanish I can get by.  Today I had classes for the second time and I can already tell we're starting to have some good chemistry.  I'm having such a great time so far.  It's unbelievably cool that this opportunity has been given to me.  I'm freshly out of college and literally doing exactly what I want to do.  How many people in my generation, or in any generation can say that?  It's also such a humbling experience.  I've already had two girls tell me after a class that they've already taken the class but when they heard that a native speaker was coming to teach it they wanted to take advantage of the opportunity so they asked me if they could just sit in on my classes even though they won't get credit for them.  How cool is that?  And how cool is it that I get to teach people who are that eager to learn? 

It's also been humbling just to be in the part of Santiago that I am.  It's one of the poorer areas.  In fact, on my bus route home we pass railroad tracks where people have built slums up against a fence.  And a hundred yards away there are nice homes.  It is impossible for me to imagine living in poverty like that and it is also impossible for me to imagine how that STILL happens.  I really love this country like any parent loves an adopted child and I sincerely hope that while I'm here I can do some good for it.

Phew!  That might be my longest blog ever.  Next time I won't wait so long in between.  I have reliable internet now that I'm out of the hostel so it will be easier.  OH!  Favorite story about teaching so far.  Today I was working with my intermediate class, teaching them how to talk about childhood memories using "used to" and "didn't use to."  (By the way, every time I seriously think about English I realize how weird it is.)  Anyway, I had them write a paragraph about their childhood using "used to", for example: "When I was younger I used to play soccer, but now I don't."  One of the students turned in his paragraph and the first sentence was "When I was younger I used to have a girlfriend, but now I am happy."  I literally laughed out loud when I read it. 

Okay.  For real.  Good night.
Que estén bien!!!

Fotos (Viña, Valparaiso, ConCon, Algarobo)

Viña del Mar on a cloudy day

Outside Pablo Neruda's house in Valparaiso

Viña del Mar on a sunny day

Viña

Empanadas from Las Deliciosas in ConCon.  Now I've eaten there twice and Anthony Bourdain has only eaten there once.

Algarobo, a gorgeous beach town where my friend David's grandparents live

Traveling companions: Dave, Jenna and Kortnee from left to right

My new Chilean family

Algarobo at night

Marina in Algarobo