New address as of tomorrow

Well. Things happened really fast, as they tend to do in life once you get on the ball ... and I'm moving into the new, beautiful, modern, gorgeous, spacious, comfortable, pristine apartment TOMORROW. Thank you God.

My new address is:

Breanna Bart
Manuel Montt 111, Departamento 1406
Providencia, Santiago, CHILE


Letters are always welcome : )

Calm after the Storm ... or not

Last week was one heck of a whirlwind. In the best way possible.

Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday ... the fun don´t stop till you drop.

I can finally and happily say that I have a family here ... Chileans included. We have a big, cozy group of amazing people with such different stories and walks of life - but we all have one thing in common - the belief that life should be FUN.

They are pretty much the same crew that I talked about in my last post; the ones who went to Fiesta Nikkita and After Office. Mi querido hermano is Esteban and my sugar daddy is Coco. Kathryn, Stephanie and I are known as the Familia Fome (fome in Chilean spanish actually means ´lame´or ´boring´... hahahah.) I think we were coined Familia Fome because unlike the Chileans, we can´t handle going out until 7 AM every Friday, Saturday and some weekdays. I honestly don´t know how they do it ... these people don´t sleep, I tell you. There´s been many a good night that we´ve stayed in to wrap up in blankets, eat some chocolate and watch a good movie.

I don´t necessarily want to recount exactly what happened last week because it would be more of the same. Dinner parties. Dancing. Walking and exploring the city. Yoga. Spinning. Seems to be routine these days. Which I definitely don´t mind.

I have to confess something: I caved.

I lasted three months without Starbucks. I plugged my ears all those times the Chileans starting raving about their favorite drinks and how amaaaaazing Starbucks is. It was only so long before I had to give in. I think there´s something about growing up in the Northwest too; something about walking around on a nippy day clutching a warm, steaming cup of coffee. It´s in our blood.

Well, the weather turned chilly here and guess where I went? And once I started, I couldn´t stop. I went three days in a row last week. Kathryn, to the left, is my fellow partner in crime. The funny thing is - I´m not even a huge Starbucks drinker back home. I prefer the little Mom and Pop coffee stands that come three to a street block in Seattle. But when you´ve been drinking powdered Nescafe for three months -- Starbucks is a little sip of heaven.


Another thing : Our landlords are officially stark raving mad. On Monday night, well actually Tuesday morning at 1 AM, they came over to our house to shout, scream, yell, jump up and down, and call us ´pigs´, ´mierda´and ´putas´. In front of our friend, Esteban. The jokes on you, landlords. I´m pretty sure they were tripping on cocaine.

We had a dinner party on Sunday afternoon with seven people, three of which live in the house. It was quite the elaborate feast - Esteban is seriously a gourmet chef. Dishes got dirty and chairs got moved around. When we were done, we washed all the dishes minus the cups we drank out of while watching a movie afterwards. Those were in the sink, waiting to be washed when we got home from work on Monday. Maybe we didn´t push the chairs back in the "correct" way ... I don´t even know. Something about the fact that we had a dinner party and enjoyed the space WE are renting and paying for really set the landlords off. And I mean really.

I thought they were going to whip out a knife and threaten us or something. I´m truly grateful that Esteban was there, even though it was a horrible thing for him to witness. I´ve never seen two 40-year-old men behave in such a way to three young-20´s women.

I think the fact that when I pay $300 a month (which is half of my monthly salary) to live in a house that the landlords don´t even live in, it means I am renting it and am therefore entitled to use it as I please, escaped them. They believe that since they own it, they have every right to dictate how we are supposed to live there. They come over several times a day to inspect the place and make sure we aren´t throwing raves or anything. I totally agree that the house should be treated with respect and when someone makes a mess, they should clean it up. By all means. But there comes a point. And they´ve crossed the line.

Unfortunately, I have to wait until June 12th to move out. The contract explicitly states that I can get my deposit back a month from when I told them I was moving out - which was May 12th. They are not getting away with money that is not rightly theirs. Even though they´ve kept everyone else´s deposit, I´m making sure I get mine back. I´m following the rules of the contract and they will too. They will. How naive I sound. But I´m not going to let it go easily.

As you can tell, I´m a little rattled. I´ve never been threatened by two insanely worked-up, tripped-out and irrational adult men before. For leaving a dish in the sink. And maybe not pushing a chair back under the table. In a house that I live in and they don´t. It was a frightening experience. Stephanie was crying afterwards and would tear up throughout the next day.

But life goes on. And so it does. This weekend we are hoping to take a nighttime tour of the old, elaborate and grand cemetary that houses all the big Chilean names. The tour has all the pre-requisites of a good time - ghost sitings, dramatics, and a Chilean history lesson. Anyone who knows me well knows I´m equally petrified and intrigued by ghost stories. True story: I was so frightened after watching The Sixth Sense that I slept in my parent´s bed. I was 13-years-old.

Activity = life-long happiness

Dancing. Bowling. The cinema and arcade games. Tennis. Biking. Yoga. Cooking. Spinning class.

Last weekend was not lacking in things to do.

I took it upon myself to fill my schedule with things I love after feeling a little down last week. Ta-da! I am loving life. Of course, I am still amazed at how often I think of home and all the wonderfulness it entails but I do realize I have it pretty dang good here. Living in another country will always encompass up's and down's; much like life anywhere. It's important to realize, however; that one is not captive to their feelings.

The weekend began at 12:45 pm on Friday, when I got home from work. Getting up at 5:30 am has its advantages, namely being that I get home that much earlier. Spinning class at 1:15 pm. Homemade dinner en la casa with the Belles and then ... Fiesta Nikkita! Fiesta Nikkita happens once a month in Santiago at rotating choice locations throughout the city. This month happened to be at a posh two-story club located up winding cobblestone streets behind Barrio Bellavista. Of course, thanks to the connections we are somehow fortunate enough to have, we were able to cut to the front of the line and receive VIP bracelets upon entrance. We went with our normal After Office crew, being Esteban and Coco plus friends. Some of their friends remind me of Chilean frat boys. There was, however; a Frenchie and her Mexican boyfriend who were boisterous, suave and fun. Tonight, Tuesday, we are heading over to her place for dinner with the same crew from Friday.

I think I finally crawled into bed at 6:30 am. Welcome to the Latin American life of carretes.

The rainy, gloomy Saturday afternoon was spent watching Federer take on Del Patro in Madrid. That's tennis for those you who are going, "Huhh?!". The Belles were kind enough to watch the match with me. On Saturday night, Kathryn and I went to Angels and Demons with Gustavo (one of our doctor friends). We went to Hoyts cinema in La Reina, which rivals and definitely comes out ahead of many movie theaters in the States. Three stories high and glistening with modernity, one might have the sensation of being swallowed alive upon walking in. We showed up for the 8:30 pm film but because it was the first weekend that the movie was out, we had to wait until the 10:30 showing. No problem ... because those arcade games were calling our names. Gustavo didn't know what he was getting himself into when he went with two early-20's American ladies to the movies. However, I think he was the most into the games by the time we left the arcade to wait in a line that snaked down three flights of stairs for Angeles y Demonios.

I won a competition earlier in the week through a Santiago online English-language magazine, Revolver (http://www.revolver-magazine.com/), for a free bike tour of Santiago. Sunday morning it was! I was able to take Kathryn along for free and with a group of about ten people, we rode our beach cruisers to the important downtown historical sites and attractions. It was the perfect way to spend a Sunday morning. We ended the tour at El Mercado Central, the largest and most extensive seafood market in Santiago. There, along with the eight members of our tour, we endulged in Paila Marina, a seafood stew chock-full of any and all kinds of seafood you could imagine. Bliss.

As we wandered back from El Mercado Central, we happened upon a protest and festival celebrating the right to smoke marijuana. Two guys sporting waist-length dreadlocks were jamming reggae onstage to a crowd of about a thousand people in the middle of a busy Santiago street. Traffic was cut off. With the carabineros (Chile's police force) standing by and watching, the free love crowd lit-up and indulged in their "right" to smoke. It was quite the scene.

Gustavo called in the afternoon wanting to play tennis that evening. It was my first time playing on clay and definitely a different sensation. After tennis, he dropped me off at home so he could go to mass and I could shower and then picked me up an hour later to go bowling with his little brother and some friends. Did I mention that Gustavo is on the national bowling team of Chile? He takes it quite seriously. It was neat to see how the "pros" do it. Gustavo and I took on the other three and we barely lost. Hahaha. I got home at midnight and collapsed into bed, ready to take on the colegio this week.

Luckily Thursday is a free day because it is El Combate Naval de Iquique, a day of celebration and remembrance of Chilean Captian Arturo Prat losing his life during a naval battle between Chile and Peru. Chilean patriotism became known as "Pratiotism". The event inspired thousands of Chilean youth to join the army and eventually seize the land from Peru.

On another note, Stephanie and I (and maybe Kathryn) will be moving out of our six-bedroom house on Manuel Montt to a new, modern apartment building on the other side of the street. There were several deciding factors that went into the decision that eventually overpowered the 'con' side of moving out. The house we live in is OLD and therefore, has holes in the walls, no central heating during the winter, lukewarm water and no water pressure for showers, a kitchen sink drainage system that brings old food up into the shower drain and out into a puddle of food while one is showering, owners that do cocaine and bring over their cokehead friends ... among other things. It's time to move. We should find out today if we get the apartment and will begin moving shortly. I'm really looking forward to having my own space as well, as living with six people gives the place a slight 'hostel' feel. The apartment building also has a pool and a small gym on the bottom floor. Yes please!

That concludes this week's edition of what I did last weekend. Hahaha. Besos!

It was bound to happen

I miss home. I miss the Unites States. My family, my friends. My culture.

I suppose this is an inevitable part of being away and living in another country for a year. There´s always the honeymoon phase, to be followed by the realization that this is it.

Is missing home taking the easy route? It´s easier to be at home, or at least in the Unites States, surrounded by modern comforts and people who know and love you. It´s also easy to point the finger at cultural differences when things aren´t always perfect. "If only I had known that ... "

Am I making enough of an effort to integrate myself into the culture? I have my American friends (I also have Chilean friends but live with my gringas and therefore spend the majority of my time with them) and I read books in English. When I watch tv shows (I rarely do ... and when I do, it´s online), they are in English. But I feel like maintaining some part of who I am; the American part of me, is important.

Is living in another country enough?

I am immersed in the Chilean culture at work. There is another gringa, Sarah, who works here but I probably see her once or twice a week because we work on opposite sides of a huge school. Walking out the door everyday is an exersize in Chilean culture... Riding the subway to and from work. Eating at restaurants. Going out at night. Taking weekend trips. Going to museums. Taking long walks down the tree-lined city streets. Doing yoga and spinning classes at the gym.

Is that enough?

Where does one draw the line of integrating sufficiently into the culture and life while it still being ok to retain American aspects?

For example, the teachers at my school truly get offended when they see me reading books in English (I am a self-proclaimed book worm). They say, "You´re in Chile. WHY are you reading books in English?"

Beeeeeeeecause I am in Chile. And if I was to give up everything about who I am ... I think I´d lose myself.

Is that a fair thing and way to think, say and act?

I don´t know. You tell me.

Being friends comes at a price

¨What´s a blow job?¨

That´s just one of many questions that echoes down the hallways at IOM when I wander past.

My students seem to latch onto any bad English word they learn and are persistent at coaxing the meaning out of me. I´ll leave them to figure out questions such as that.

I´m starting to realize there is a fine balance between being on good terms with my students and being equal friends with them. I am only three-years-older than the seniors after all. But those three years make the difference between being high-school educated and university educated.

Yesterday, two girls asked me to let them into la sala de ingles so that they could crawl out the window and escape from the confines of the colegio.

I´m happy that they feel I´m their pal; someone to help them out with problems they might not ask one of the older, more conventional teachers. But I´m still a teacher and my role remains so at the risk of losing my job otherwise.

The lines between teacher and student are definitely more blurred here. One of the teachers at Kathryn´s colegio openly and repeatedly asserts her strong attraction for one of her students. And our director did tell us stories upon getting here of teachers falling in love with and later ending up with their students. Can you spell S-C-A-N-D-A-L?

Or so you´d think. Bruce, our director, was sharing this with us as one of the ´warm fuzzies´ about being a young teacher at a colegio.

I´ll believe it when I see it ... however, I think that even if I was attracted to one of my students (and yes, some of them will make great future boyfriends and husbands for lucky girls), I would stop myself upon grounds of moral boundaries. And the fact that I always go for guys several years my senior. A cougar I am not.

I´ll keep you posted on if any of my fellow profes prance off into the sunset with their beloved alumnos...

Ode to a Mother

As time wraps its sly grasp around us, I realize we've come a long way.

I suddenly am not being shuttled off to Saturday soccer games with the neighborhood kids in the Mom-mobile or watching Full House after getting dropped off by Janet and her big, yellow school bus in the afternoon.

Now I'm a continent away from those sacred childhood memories and the special people behind them, learning to live like my Mother has taught me. Without fear. With love and appreciation for the simple fact of being alive.

Something happened when I went away to college. Our relationship shifted. While you will always be my Mother, I consider you one of my best friends. A warm, loving and wise face to turn to when I'm confused, hurt, upset or just plain happy and need to let my joy bubble out.

We are one and the same; me a product and result of the person you are. Every step I take in my daily walk of life is never far from you, no matter the geographical distance. I carry you with me.

Thank you for the times you listened patiently and the times you straight-up laid down the law. I realize now more than ever ... and keep realizing it ... that yes, Mothers really do know everything.

I'm excited for what our future holds together and excited to share the wonderful gift of life, love and wisdom you gave me with the world.

I wish I could be with you celebrating Mothers Day. Enjoy your special day and know that I'm with you in spirit.

I love you.

Sun, fun and WINE

Forget France.

Forget Napa Valley.

Hellooooo South America!

Not only is Chile renowned for surprisingly AMAZING wine but Argentina has it´s own little niche.

Argentina, you ask. Wasn´t I going to La Serena last weekend? Yes, I was. But you know how last minute travel plans are ... always evolving and hopefully for the better. So suddenly, at about midnight on Wednesday, I decided to go to Argentina the following night. And can I just point something out ... don´t you just love the fact that I can decide to go to Argentina at the last minute and pay about $40 US round trip to get there? I certainly do.

Mendoza it was.

If you haven´t heard of Mendoza before, it´s a town of about 100,000 people burrowed in the Eastern side of Los Andes mountains in Argentina. Mendoza is known for it´s wine and olive oil production. In 2008, National Geographic listed Mendoza as one of the top ten historic destinations in the world (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mendoza,_Argentina). Also, if anyone has seen Seven Years in Tibet, you might recognize Mendoza. The director of the film, Jean-Jaques Annaud, constructed a replica of Tibet in Mendoza that was used as the set of the movie.

Apparently I have this uncanny knack for being called up on stage during performances and shows. It doesn't matter where I am ... Las Vegas, Puerto Vallarta, Mendoza ... if there's a show and the performer needs assistence, they apparently see a huge, red bullseye on my forehead that I am unaware of.

Friday night proved to be one of those nights. We went to a tango show. And before I go on, let me clarify something... when it comes to dance steps, consider me hopeless. But oh no, the show must go on. And not just the show, but a competition. Amongst actual Argentinians that grew up tango-ing. Whhhhhhhhhy me?!

Thank goodness I'd had a few glasses of that delicious wine. I owned that stage ... down to the very last drops of applause from the audience. My friends said I did them proud.

Winter is rapidly approaching Santiago. Mendoza, on the other hand, seems to be reveling in the fact that it's still balmy and bright. Saturday was a day for sleeveless tops and shorts. And for bicycling a wine tour complete with 11 bodegas (wineries), an olive oil factory and a chocolate factory... which could spell D-A-N-G-E-R but proved to be good, clean fun.

I heart Mendoza. So much so that I'm taking my Mom for a long weekend when she's here for two weeks of language school in the beginning of November. My dad will join us in Santiago in mid-November ... pobrecito, he'll miss out on Mendoza.