A little thing called the gym

I just joined a gym down the street from my apartment and have taken three classes there in as many days. Those include: spinning, yoga and pilates.

HAHAHHAHAHAHHA.

Chileans are surprisingly into fitness in comparison to what I observed while studying in Spain. At la hora pick or la hora del taco (remember this is Chilean Spanish we´re talking about...), when everyone is seeping from the offices and flooding the streets, treadmills and ellipticals are few and far between at the gym.

The spinning class was in a tiny glass room atop the gym filled with aging stationary bikes. The class began with throbbing electronica/trance music. The instructor strutted into the room in his short shorts, thrust out his chest and hopped on the bike. He then proceeeded to make ¨Uuuuuahhhh!¨noises throughout the hour-long class. There were no instructions; just a series of grunts, hoots and hollers.

Somehow, the other participants were able to translate his ¨Tarzan¨into a language of meaning and would systematically move their hand positions according to the instructor´s inflection. Nevertheless, the class was an amazing workout and I left hobbling down three flights of stairs.

The yoga and pilates class were nearly one and the same. This instructor flitted into the room, twirling his shoulder length hair with his finger and bent over abruptly, posterior pronounced proudly in the air, to push the play button for similar electronica/trance music. The warm-up for both classes consisted of the same downward gyrating motions with legs twisted and splayed in all directions. I began to wonder if I had walked into the wrong sala - was this ¨Beginner´s Thrust¨?

But oh no.

Then the fun began. The heart of both classes were yoga and pilates. However, with all that thrusting, we only had about 20 minutes left.

Both yoga and pilates classes cooled down to opera music blasting from the speakers. The instructor, with upmost grace and eloquence, placed himself upon the floor and swept his ballet fingers through the air, toes pointed, and rotated through a series of moves.

Um, thrust, warrior 1, ballet. Got it.

The one month mark

A month has come and gone. Hard to believe. In some ways, it feels much longer and in other ways, it feels like I just got here.

The one month mark is an important time to reflect on the expectations I set for myself and my experience in Santiago. I attempted to leave the States sans expectations because I didn't want to dissapoint myself or have false hopes. This resulted in an incredible month full of surprises, adventures and fun. However, there are goals that I'd like to accomplish while I'm here. After all, this is the first time I'm truly "on my own".

My goals:

• Become fluent in Spanish
• Enrich myself culturally, i.e. going to museums, theatre, festivals, etc.
• Make Chilean friends
• Play a positive role and influence in/on my students' lives
• Learn how to live on my own
• Live with no regrets (!!)
• Grow as a person through unfamiliar situations and meeting new people
• Travel to Peru and Ecuador at some point in this journey

Check, check and check.

I'm working towards these goals BUT as I'm reviewing them, I realize that it's very easy to acknowledge them and accept that over the course of this year, they will somehow accomplish themselves but an entirely different thing to actually pursue them on a daily basis. Haha, not that I'm going to go up to Chileans on the street and ask, "Will you be my friend??". I think everything boils down to enjoying each and every moment that life presents me cada día. This year is an extremely blessed opportunity and I am so grateful.

My students fill me up with joy. As I was leaving work on Friday, I got rushed by 30 sixth graders clamoring to give me a hug. And remember, sixth grade is the beginning of middle school - when it's not necessarily cool to show unabashed emotions anymore. They chose to spend their recess inside the classroom talking with me instead of playing "Who has cooties?" outside. Little things like that make me realize why I am here. Yes, I'm here to teach English but it's much more than that. It's a cultural exchange. I am equally interested in learning about each and every student as they are about me.

Those tenth graders though ... they are in some aspects one of my favorite grades. I'm equally terrified. When I walked up the stairs to the classroom on Thursday, they were all waiting outside and as soon as they saw me, burst into riotous applause. That lasted about ten minutes - long after we'd all made our way into the classroom. The boys then quickly got to work looking up words in their English dictionaries to complete their pick-up lines. I don't quite know yet who is in charge of who.

I'm interviewing on Wednesday with a language institute five blocks from my house. They need someone to teach Tuesday/Thursday classes from 7 - 9 pm. They are adult-only and would provide a nice balance to those middle and high-schoolers. Not to mention a nice boost to my meager paycheck! I hopefully then would be able to sock away some money each month to make my goal of traveling to Peru and Ecuador a reality.

On that note, I'm off to watch a movie with my landlords and roommates before bed. Buenas noches!

Alegria

So the craziest thing happened the other night. I couldn't fall asleep. Because I was happy. Normally I'd be frantically searching for something to knock me out, desperate to avoid being tired the next day. But I rode those waves of happiness ... and the big yawns that followed on Friday. Insomnia due to happiness isn't the worst thing in the world.

Everything is still going excellent.


My two Southern Belles, two of the four closest girl friends I've made here, are moving into my six-bedroom apartment on Friday. I made a choice to move out of the hostel provided for us for a month, early, as I wanted Santiago to feel like "home" as soon as possible. Because of that, I haven't spent as much time with the group of original teachers. It will be nice to be back "in the loop" again.

The first Southern Belle, Stephanie (from North Carolina), is as classy as they get. Big pearl earrings, scarves and dresses, always dresses. Until you give her a few drinks and she's suddenly the bawdiest person in the room. It's fabulous. Kathryn is actually from Washington D.C., but went to school in North Carolina. She has an insane amount of energy and if I could describe her in a sentence, I'd say she flits around like a fairy. She bounces from one place to the next faster than the human eye can follow. Both are in long-distance relationships, Steph with a 30-year-old and Kathryn with a 21-year-old. They are 24 and 23, respectively.





I have a second date tomorrow with someone I met at the castle last week. His name is Cristian and ... he's 31.

Buuuuuut, before you react to the ten year age difference, let me tell you something. And keep in mind that this is my perspective and my experience, not a generalization. I believe that the rate of maturity is different between countries. In Chile, people live with their families until they are 30 and often times longer than that. They don't pay room and board, instead using their post-college salaries to save up for a house. Not until then do they move out. Their mothers cook for them and do their laundry. Whereas in the states, when we hit college age, we are out of the house and post-college, on our own completely. So while Cristian may be ten years older, it doesn't feel like a huge age gap. Plus, he's not in that "phase" that guys my age seem to be stuck in since puberty. Which I am definitely not complaining about.

This second date with Cristian entails sushi. Which scores big points in my book. I'll let you know how it goes...


Many of my students are clamoring to add me on Facebook. Which I think is a very foolish idea. Here's what I wrote to Javier, a 9th grader:

Gracias por encontrandome! The rule at O'higgins is that I can't be facebook friends with my students until I am done teaching there. So I will add you next December, ok?? : )

And here's what I heard back, a few hours later:

Holy /@"#$%!!!This is disgusting¬¬, I thonk you will accept me at home but whit this @#$%\& I´m wrong.I will need to wait untill christmas to have you on Facebook.Well, I can´t do anithing, so I´ll be waiting for you... Sorry about those vulgarities but that makes me angry.Oh, and I need to tell you something, I found you very gorgeous^^

HAHAHAHA. He obviously felt very strongly about being Facebook friends.

Well, it's time to get ready for work. I shall return soon to write of more substantial matters.

Las fotos de Chile

Just wanted to let anyone who's interested know that I have two albums of pictures from Chile posted:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2184583&id=27214413&l=89852

AND

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2184588&id=27214413&l=c7bc5


...enjoy!!

You talkin' to me?

That's right .... meet the new high-school English teacher. Thank you, thank you very much.

After a week and a half of rotating between all grades at Instituto Bernardo O'higgins de Maipu, we've reached a consensus. High-schoolers and I suit each other very well.

Apparently I relate quite well to those days of either being foolishly confident in one's supposed knowledge of "worldly" things or blissfully unaware of one's presence in an increasingly complicated and interconnected world. Hmmmm...

I remember those days of high-school all too well.

In addition to knowing exactly what grades I will be teaching, I now know when I will be teaching as well. Which, apparently, is something of an accomplishment at my school. There are still new "offical" (if you will) teachers that are scrambling to figure out what classroom they're supposed to be in next. And I do say, what a nice schedule I have.

I begin at 9:30 on Mondays and Wednesdays (I have an hour commute so anything earlier entails a painful wake-up), at 12:15 on Tuesdays and 8:00 on Thursdays and Fridays. However, as the law of work generally follows, the earlier I get to work, the earlier I get off. So, for the most part, I am home at 2:30. I'm in the process of hunting for a second job so I don't have to pinch my pesos and have an interview next Tuesday at a language institute a block from my school.

Overall, school is going very, very well. I leave work each day with a big smile plastered on my gringa face.

Last weekend, I trekked three hours south to Pichilemu. This little surf town boasts some of the best waves in South America. I was fortunate enough to go with a Chilean who knew where to go to avoid the rest of us foreigners. We spent Saturday wandering the desolate coast line, observing the fascinating geography and rock formations and taking pictures. Barbeques are the thing to do during summer in Chile and our weekend wouldn't have been complete without one. We bought a huge slab of beef at the carnicería, marinated it in cerveza de miel (honey beer) and slapped it on the grill. Delicious.

Sunday morning was set aside for surfing, however; when we woke up, the weather decided otherwise. Horseback riding along the beach it was! And I didn't complain one bit.

Pablo, the Chilean, who accompanied Kate and I (Kate's a house-mate) is from San Fernando, a lush, green city an hour and a half north of Pichilemu. We visited his family on Saturday afternoon at their hacienda on a vineyard and enjoyed a home-cooked meal by his mother. Hello.

All in all, it was a fulfilling weekend and I feel very grateful to have been able to see the "real" Chile.

Tonight is Wednesday.

Wednesday nights are reserved for dancing in a castle on top of a mountain (it's really a hill but 'mountain' sounds much more dramatic). The place is called After Office and is invite only to the business people of Santiago. Don't ask me how we are able to get in ... because I don't really know. It's truly who you know, not what you know... and these folks are mighty fine folks. Men must wear dress clothes and a tie to ushered through the red velvet ropes and if the women aren't donning a cocktail dress, well, shame on them. It's definitely a different side of Santiago than one sees everyday. I enjoy the variety.

This picture to the left is the castle by day, called Santa Lucia.

And I now leave you to enjoy the rest of your day as I will mine...

Empezamos la adventura....

...and so begins una cuenta of an American living in Santiago de Chile.



Two weeks have passed since the grand adventure began and I can honestly say that Santiago feels like home. I love my job, my apartment, the friends I've made and the fact that I'm learning and seeing new things everyday.



On language...

Now, as you may have heard, Chilean spanish is NOTHING like the spanish we learned in school. No po. Some Chileans say it's almost another language. I do not beg to differ. While the basic structure and sentence construction remains the same, the proliferic use of unique Chilean slang and vocabulary in addition to mile-a-minute speech and words with endings left off makes expanding my language knowledge a daily adventure. Bakan. (Bakan means 'awesome' in "Chilean")





On Seattle...

When I say I'm from Seattle (which is much simpler than explaining that I live an hour and a half north of Seattle on an island that's not an island), most adults nod in recognition. The younger ones, however, aren't familiar with our Northern slice of the United States. The exception are Chilean teenage girls. While they don't know where Seattle is, they're eager to know all about Forks, WA ... thanks to the setting of the epic saga of forbidden vampire romance in the Twilight series currently sweeping the nation (and apparently South America).

On Obama...

Obama Barack is not only an American hero. Nearly every single class I've taught in so far has asked about Obama. In fact, the 12th grader's homework for last weekend was finding out when Obama's birthday was. Chileans seem to share in the excitement of a promise for a better future (well ... after we resolve our little economic crisis). Everyone here is also very aware of the worldwide financial crisis and while the country doesn't seem to be gripped to near paralysis like the U.S., people are bracing themselves for tougher times.

On my students...

Only in Chile would a teacher get whistled at by their tenth grade students as they walk to the front of the classroom. Yes, I admit ... it's flattering. However, can you imagine 20 pubescent boys hooting in unity at their teacher in the U.S.? Nooooo ... they'd be booted out of the classroom and given a lecture on sexual harrassment. Chile, my friends, much like all Latin American countries is a place of expressing passion. Hop to it - speak your mind. If you think someone's attractive, well, you're wasting your time by not saying so. This cultural tidbit of wisdom begins at an early age. Even the first graders are well on their way.

Girls are also very expressive and endearing. I've received several drawings with statements like, "I love you Miss. Breanna".

Salutations in Chile begin with a kiss on the right cheek and there's no better way to start one's day than 30 adorable six-year-olds rushing towards clamoring to be the first to kiss your cheek.

In our orientation, the directors of EducaUC told us that we might be some of the only foreigners the students will come into contact with. Therefore, inadvertently, we are a novelty to them; something to be watched and observed, admired and loved. I equally feel very blessed to share this with each student. It's an honor to be here, representing my country in a positive light as well as share in expanding each student's life and perspective. It's an opportunity for me to learn far beyond words can express. I will learn patience, develop leadership and make lasting connections with the 1,400 students at my colegio. A week and a day have passed by and I already feel like I am at home amongst my students.