There’s no party like a Chilean grammar school teachers’ party! Friday night JEB (Jose Elias Bolivar) had a fiesta for a visiting official. Food and drinks galore! Once the formal dinner was over, the catering staff thoughtfully left behind a huge cake and sodas and rum – the teachers spend half the evening pouring ron into my cup…
Transcript:
Teachers: starting to pour without asking
Me: “Ok pero solo piqueno, por fa!
Teachers: laughing “No! Mas mas mas RONNN!!!!”
And then they would dance the quaka.
My host teacher also pulled me aside to say: “is necessary frequent the bars, Margarita!” Lovely evening – home at 3am!
Saturday night was a movie and boxed wine night with other volunteers in Angol. Today we went for a long hike in the Angolese mountains – my host mom made me eat two huge beef sandwiches for energy and then gave me a plastic bag full of grapes for the journey. Beautiful countryside – looks a lot like Lake Tahoe. We jumped off rocks into 40 degree which probably wasn’t too smart. On the way out, a toothless cow herdsman chased me (with his two cows, so needless to say, it was a slow effort), screaming “te amo!” The life of a gringa!
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
why oh why did i only take french classes?!
Pajamas in public.
The result of speaking no Spanish. I was in bed, attempting to lesson plan and figuring out how to email my teacher the lesson plans I was probably supposed to send her earlier this weekend, when my host mama walked in. As usual, I only got about 25% of what she was saying. Thinking I was supposed to go outside and say bye to her son, I started walking out of the room (without shoes, which is a huge problem because everyone wears shoes inside and my refusal/forgetting to wear shoes indoors has been a topic in the teachers’ lounge) but she grabbed shoes and a fleece and put them on me. I was wearing pajama pants. I went out side and Daniel was sitting in the car waiting for me, which is when I realized how little of what she was saying I understood. I got into the car wearing a fleece, pajama pants, and my rainboots. It is not raining. In fact, it was warmer than usual. Daniel, like most people, over estimates my Spanish capabilities. Still extremely confused about what I am doing, I attempt to make conversation in Spanish. Evenutally I figured out we were supposed to run errands as he was giving me a tour of Angol, which is fantastic, except that it meant I had to go into the equivalent of Home Depot and also the grocery in pajamas. Embarrassing, to say the least.
This tour also informed me that the area I had planned to run in tomorrow is the worst part of Angol and is “muy peligrosa.” Our street, however, is “muy tranquilo.”
The result of speaking no Spanish. I was in bed, attempting to lesson plan and figuring out how to email my teacher the lesson plans I was probably supposed to send her earlier this weekend, when my host mama walked in. As usual, I only got about 25% of what she was saying. Thinking I was supposed to go outside and say bye to her son, I started walking out of the room (without shoes, which is a huge problem because everyone wears shoes inside and my refusal/forgetting to wear shoes indoors has been a topic in the teachers’ lounge) but she grabbed shoes and a fleece and put them on me. I was wearing pajama pants. I went out side and Daniel was sitting in the car waiting for me, which is when I realized how little of what she was saying I understood. I got into the car wearing a fleece, pajama pants, and my rainboots. It is not raining. In fact, it was warmer than usual. Daniel, like most people, over estimates my Spanish capabilities. Still extremely confused about what I am doing, I attempt to make conversation in Spanish. Evenutally I figured out we were supposed to run errands as he was giving me a tour of Angol, which is fantastic, except that it meant I had to go into the equivalent of Home Depot and also the grocery in pajamas. Embarrassing, to say the least.
This tour also informed me that the area I had planned to run in tomorrow is the worst part of Angol and is “muy peligrosa.” Our street, however, is “muy tranquilo.”
Saturday, May 22, 2010
bus trip!
“Where are you from?” is the token phrase of Chilean men hitting on gringas. Gringas, by the way, is not an offensive term. In Chile, it just denotes foreigners. I learned this when I recently walked into a grocery store and was greeted with “HOLA GRINGA!” Anyways, I left Angol yesterday for Osorno. It’s about a seven-hour bus ride south, into Region X or Los Lagos. Aside from getting stuck sitting too close to the bathrooms, it was a beautiful ride (once I got used to the fragrant bathroom scent stench. We arrived in Osorno and met some of the other volunteers at a hostel. Bar, bar, bar, bar in club, club. Our cover got us free drinks until the last bar turned into a club at 2am. Chileans go out tarde! Lots of token phrase throwing, not lots of cute Chileans. The bus ride back to Angol Saturday was rough.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
back to school
Back to school, back to school. Harkening back to my high school days, I woke up at a miserable 6:45am. My school teacher family also has to get up at such an ungodly hour (dios mios!) so we had breakfast and caught up on the morning’s news, thanks to CNNnnnCHIlay. Remembering to avoid a mouthful of powdered milk, I didn’t lick my spoon clean of Nescafe this morning.
I drove the two blocks to school (seriously) with Sylvia who introduced me to the teachers at Simon Escobar (?). Lots of Spanish jokes went right over my head as I continued with my “smile and si” routine. My first class with my teacher, Faviola, was 8A, which has a rowdy reputation. I had to present myself to the class first. I had a PowerPoint prepared to show where I was from, who my family was, etc. The class was dead silent during my presentation, staring at me warily. Obviously my Miley Cyrus jokes did not go over well. The class, in turn, introduced themselves. Every single one of them, apparently, is thirteen and likes reggeton. For the remainder of the class, they got progressively more rambunctious – three had to be sent to the principal who subsequently came into the room. Her furious Spanish overwhelmed me but I think she was saying that if they didn’t behave, their mothers would be called, and they wouldn’t get to work with me, which I’m sure would be devastating to these kids. Joking (or “yoking!”). They left happily, however, and all screamed “BYE!” to me. Hopefully Miss Margarita will be a hit with 8A.
Each class is a didactic hour, so two periods equates an hour and a half. After a break of coffee, cake, and sandwiches, we headed back upstairs to 3A. The third graders were extremely excited to hear about California and Mickey Mouse, when they weren’t busy playing with their toy cars. They sang several songs for me and then worked on coloring.
The third class of the day was 1A. 1A travels with an extra teacher because they are MUY LOCO. The forty first graders cannot sit still for more than two seconds, but they are adorable. They also have perfect pitch and love to sing. It was a tiring day, but I’m excited to go back tomorrow!
I drove the two blocks to school (seriously) with Sylvia who introduced me to the teachers at Simon Escobar (?). Lots of Spanish jokes went right over my head as I continued with my “smile and si” routine. My first class with my teacher, Faviola, was 8A, which has a rowdy reputation. I had to present myself to the class first. I had a PowerPoint prepared to show where I was from, who my family was, etc. The class was dead silent during my presentation, staring at me warily. Obviously my Miley Cyrus jokes did not go over well. The class, in turn, introduced themselves. Every single one of them, apparently, is thirteen and likes reggeton. For the remainder of the class, they got progressively more rambunctious – three had to be sent to the principal who subsequently came into the room. Her furious Spanish overwhelmed me but I think she was saying that if they didn’t behave, their mothers would be called, and they wouldn’t get to work with me, which I’m sure would be devastating to these kids. Joking (or “yoking!”). They left happily, however, and all screamed “BYE!” to me. Hopefully Miss Margarita will be a hit with 8A.
Each class is a didactic hour, so two periods equates an hour and a half. After a break of coffee, cake, and sandwiches, we headed back upstairs to 3A. The third graders were extremely excited to hear about California and Mickey Mouse, when they weren’t busy playing with their toy cars. They sang several songs for me and then worked on coloring.
The third class of the day was 1A. 1A travels with an extra teacher because they are MUY LOCO. The forty first graders cannot sit still for more than two seconds, but they are adorable. They also have perfect pitch and love to sing. It was a tiring day, but I’m excited to go back tomorrow!
Sunday, May 16, 2010
la comida
Okay, I have to devote this blog to food. Everyone in Chile is on a diet and they have no idea what a diet is. A diet here consists of substituting the dreaded “azucar” with aspartame. So even though my host mom will eat pan galore, she diets by using fake sugar. Pan is for breakfast with jams and cheese and ham, and for lunch, with soup and salad and the main meat course, and with all the onces or teas with butter and jam, and with dinner in sandwiches. Chile loves bread as much as I do!
Saturday, May 15, 2010
new home
My room consists of a king size bed, complete with sheets and seven blankets. This is because indoor heating is an anomaly in Chile, which is as bad as it seems. Suffice it to say that I am justified in wearing rain boots inside. The top cover, currently home to my laptop may have been purchased off Urban Outfitters Home in the “shag rug” section, but it is super warm.
Today Lisa and I went for our run and found a massive street market. Despite mucho confusion, she got three of the biggest apples I have ever seen for approximately 5¢. We also saw a rabbit being skinned and cut into perfect purchasing pieces! And, most importantly, we ran into some Mormons. Two very cute Mormons, who presumably already have wives, but are missionaries in Chile. Despite lecturing us about their religion for far too long (although at our behest), los Mormones were really sweet and told us to call them if we needed help. Unfortunately, to do so we would have to go to their church. Spent the rest of the day walking around Angol and relaxing!
In other news, CATE, I am currently enjoying a Cadbury bar. Sylvia insisted I get chocolate. How could I resist?
Today Lisa and I went for our run and found a massive street market. Despite mucho confusion, she got three of the biggest apples I have ever seen for approximately 5¢. We also saw a rabbit being skinned and cut into perfect purchasing pieces! And, most importantly, we ran into some Mormons. Two very cute Mormons, who presumably already have wives, but are missionaries in Chile. Despite lecturing us about their religion for far too long (although at our behest), los Mormones were really sweet and told us to call them if we needed help. Unfortunately, to do so we would have to go to their church. Spent the rest of the day walking around Angol and relaxing!
In other news, CATE, I am currently enjoying a Cadbury bar. Sylvia insisted I get chocolate. How could I resist?
Friday, May 14, 2010
a casual PRIVATE TOUR OF PALACE
This is a double decker blog entry – last night in Santiago and first day in Angol! Last day of training finally over! After our “coc tal” or cocktail, I went to the presidential palace. For a private tour. Seriously. One of my friend’s relatives works for the national police (unlike los Estados Unidos, there’s only one police in Chile and it’s an extension of the government, like the Army or Navy). He is in charge of security for the President and showed us all around the palace and let us take pictures of ourselves in the very room in which Allende shot himself and on the steps right outside the room the President was currently in. Amazing! The differences in security between the White House and Moneda Palace are incredible. First of all, you’re allowed to walk within a mile of the Palace – even right up to the front! This leg of the police seems to have stolen all the tall people from the short-legged country of Chile because all the guards are super tall and formal in their marching and serious suits and high boots. But the three grossly underdressed and giggling American girls got one of them to smile in a photo! After our touro privado con el capitan, we took a final wander around Santiago and got snacks for the bus.
Seriously, a double decker blog entry, like the TurTransfer bus I took last night. Lugging my luggage through the bus terminal was worth it. The bus seats recline all the way, a porter brings you a blanket and a pillow – with a smile, even at 2am! Lisa and I were served a healthy and hearty breakfast of an almond cookie, “Spirm” juice which I can’t drink, and canned peaches. As the sun rose and we noticed how into the countryside we were driving, we arrived in Angol to meet our families!
Seriously, a double decker blog entry, like the TurTransfer bus I took last night. Lugging my luggage through the bus terminal was worth it. The bus seats recline all the way, a porter brings you a blanket and a pillow – with a smile, even at 2am! Lisa and I were served a healthy and hearty breakfast of an almond cookie, “Spirm” juice which I can’t drink, and canned peaches. As the sun rose and we noticed how into the countryside we were driving, we arrived in Angol to meet our families!
Monday, May 10, 2010
bienvenido
Welcome to Chile! I have arrived in South America! To summarize the experience so far: indecipherable Spanish, baskets of bread, empanadas, Proyecto Aprender McGill 2010 plus otros americanos, walking tour of Santiago, street dogs (perros de corer), Coca Cola Light, cobblestone streets, smog, semi-comprehendible Spanish, and, of course, pisco sours. Our schedule this week is simple – get up at 8am for a breakfast of bread and butter and powdered coffee. Nescafe all the way! We head over to EOD training til 6pm and then back to the hostel it is. After dinner, which varies from stew to stew to stew and flan, which can be found the next morning at breakfast, too, we get $2 wine from the store and drink in the back of the hostel. After our cheap but high quality wine buzz wares off, we walk as a big, loud American group over to one of the cafes for pisco sours.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
adios norteamérica
From May to August 2010, I´ll be living the thinnest country in the world (though I doubt such an adjective will describe me soon)as I participate in “English Opens Doors” or Ingles Abre Puertas. Ingles Abre Puertas composes an integral part of the Chilean Ministry of Education, as a program that brings native English speaks from North America to Chile to inspire school children. I am assigned to the beer capital and breadbasket that is the Araucania Region. Google images make me think Araucania resembles California’s Lake Tahoe. Working as a teaching assistant, I will live with a host family somewhere in this beautiful region. As I practice my keg stands with local beer and cure my massive hangovers by inhaling excessive amounts of bread, just kidding, as I eat a reasonable portion of bread for breakfast and indulge in the occasional sip of beer on Friday evenings, I will be documenting my experience. I’ll be documenting my amusing attempts at learning Spanish and my earnest attempts to teach English – as I attempt to immerse myself into Chilean culture. From empanada tasting to pisco sour filled evenings to family dinners to travels to Argentina to cheering Chilean soccer matches– from the Toronto airport, bottoms up! To Chile!
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