Backtracking: Fiestas Patrias

As I mentioned briefly in a previous post September 18 is Chilean Independence Day, or "Las Fiestas Patrias." While Las Fiestas Patrias are a big deal every year, this year happened to be extra special because we were celebrating Chile's bicentennial! In 1810 Chile gained independence from Spain and all the people rejoiced and stopped speaking with a lisp. Today, we spent four days eating and drinking red wine and dancing! Specifically, we dance La Cueca, which is Chile's national dance, and which, I have to admit, I loathe. Compared with other latin dances it is just so... unsexy. Why not make Salsa the national dance? Or Rumba? Or Pachanga? Sadly, no one asked for my opinion on the matter, and so the last day of classes before the long weekend, our Spanish teachers insisted that we learn La Cueca. There is a short video below of Spanish class, followed by a longer video of my Chilean family dancing La Cueca at our Fiestas Patrias party, or "carrete". The last video is also from the carrete at our house. Check out abuelo in the green sweater in the back!

Back in Arica

Hello, and thank you for your patience!


What I failed to mention in my last post about Putre is that it is located at 3500 meters. For those of you who, like myself, have no point of reference when it comes to altitude, that's high up! Naturally, our director Rossana wanted to make sure that none of us experienced altitude sickness during the drive up, so rather than go directly from point A to point B, we stretched the 2 1/2 hour trip from Arica to Putre over the course of 5 hours. We also chewed "hoja de coca," which happens to be same plant that cocaine comes from. I was a little skeptical at first that chewing on a leaf would actually help the pressure in my head, but it did-- and almost instantaneously. So we may have dabbled in illicit drugs, but on the bright side, no one threw up! 


The altitude does have it's advantages, and one of them is a sky so clear and blue and beautiful that you don't even care that tilting your head back to look at it makes you a little dizzy. I tried to take pictures of the sky, but my pictures don't do justice to the real thing. If Elisa were here, I'm sure she could've done something way more artistic. Instead, here are a few of my amateurish shots.

Most of these pictures are from the last day of our trip, when we visited
the highest lake in the word, Lago Chungara.

To be honest, I don't know the name of this mountain. But I will find out!

How gorgeous is this!

That would be a llama and alpaca crossing sign

Just one of the many beautiful sunsets

A dip in the "piscina" (pool)  before getting into the hot springs

I am on the left wearing sunglasses

While we were "bathing" Rossana, Veronica, and Leo were preparing lunch for us--
they even brought peanut butter and whole wheat bread because they know how we
gringos love that stuff (of course they can't understand why!)

Putre sin Internet

Putre Without Internet


Dear gentle readers, 
Please accept my deepest apologies for being out of touch for so long. I am alive! My group is currently on an excursion to the city of Putre, where Internet is apparently difficult to come by. Llamas, on the other hand, are a dime a dozen. Alpacas, too.


Over the past four days, we have been visiting rural health outposts and meeting with members of the indigenous Aymara community, including the medicine man and the midwife. The population of Putre is just over 1,000 people, 90% of whom are Aymara, so the medicine here is strongly influenced by traditional Aymaran practices. Still, traditional Aymaran practices are slowly becoming less and less prevalent, as evidenced by the fact that the Señora Fausta (the midwife) has no apprentice. 


So much more to write, but today is our last day in Putre and we are visiting the hot springs so I have to get going! I will be back in touch this weekend with more details about the excursion and about the Fiestas Patrias. Promise!

¡Fiestas Patrias!

This weekend we are celebrating las Fiestas Patrias, or Chilean Independence Day!!! It also happens to be the bicentennial! Pictures forthcoming. 


Also, I killed a giant spider last night with a sandal. My first and dear God I hope last. Eww. 

¡Que rico!

How rich?

How flavorful?

I don't even know... 

I am not sure exactly how the phrase translates, but every time my family members try a new food they all say, "¡Que rico!" At first I thought it meant a very hearty, filling food (like a meat and potatoes type dish), and then I went through a phase where I thought it meant sweet (like a dessert), but now I've come to the conclusion that is just a blanket expression used to convey one's satisfaction with a particular dish. 


Anyway, the food here is excellent, but the eating schedule is very different than what I am used to at home. Thee first meal of the day is a breakfast that consists of "pancito" and tea. 

Pancito. Clearly Dr. Atkins never made it big in Chile...

Lunch, or "almuerzo," is the biggest meal of the day, and it is very much like the American dinner. The whole family come home from work or school midday to have lunch together. I think the high schools have a slightly different schedule because I don't cross paths with my siblings when I come home for lunch, but Iván comes home from work every day for almuerzo.  He also sometimes takes a siesta before going back to work-- makes my day every time I hear him snoring! 


Then there is Las Once eaten at about 6pm, which is very similar to breakfast, and finally La Cena, eaten at around 10pm, which I have not really been able to figure out yet. I have heard that some families treat the La Cena as if it were a mini-almuerzo, but in my house La Cena is more of a glorified snack-- fruit, yogurt, etc. 


Overall the system works for me. The only thing I have modified to suit my American tastes is breakfast. Rather than pancito and tea, I have Cheerios and tea, and save the pancito for Las Once. My Chilean family was fascinated when I brought Cheerios into the house. ("So you eat it with milk? Hot or cold milk? Plain milk or strawberry milk?") The first time I actually ate the Cheerios Jessica was there, Abuela was there, and even Cote came in to see what was going on. I was able to cajole them into giving it a try, but I don't think anyone will be partaking with me. I didn't hear any exclamations of "¡Que rico!

How to Fake It

When you are living among people who speak a language other than your own, there is bound to be some confusion. Normally, I would advocate asking for clarification if you don't understand something, but sometimes you  just don't feel like asking for clarification for the zillionth time. In times like these, the idea is to convince whomever is speaking that you are following the conversation when, in fact, you are not. Most gringas just stick to nodding and repeating, "sí," but I have developed a few other mannerisms that are much more convincing in my opinion. As Ursula the Seawitch once said, it's all about body language, so you want to lean forward slightly as if you truly are engaged, and you also want to purse your lips and furrow your brow a bit so it appears as if you are really considering everything they are saying to you. Also, I like to alternate between "sí" and "ah" just to keep things interesting. This formula works especially well if someone (for instance, a parent) is explaining something to you or telling you a story-- in other words, in conversations in which the other person does most of the talking and you are the listener. I would not recommend using these strategies when someone asks you a pointed question. And I CERTAINLY would not recommend this strategy with possible jotes.* If a boy/man says something to you that sounds like a question, there is an entirely separate set of mannerisms you need to learn. Do NOT employ the "nod and sí." In these instances, you smile very sweetly and say, "Lo siento. No Entiendo," or "I'm sorry. I don't understand." Then, as you wait for them to repeat or rephrase the question, you look at them expectantly and widen your eyes to show just how eager you are to understand whatever it is they are trying to communicate. This will no doubt endear you to them even more.

Me entiendes? No? That's okay.  

Some of us gringas with Alfonso, age 3. 

When I asked who was on his sweatshirt he said, "Mi amigo Pooh!"

*jote= creeper

La Romi