Rooting Against Steak (there's a first time for everything)

Every Tuesday I get home around noon, make a cup of tea if it's cold enough, think about studying French, decide not to study French and read the newspaper with Abuelita or dick around on the internet instead.  Normally Maite is bustling around, peeling potatoes, stoking fireplaces, humming and basically being Molly Weasley.  But today I got home and she was fuming.  Being extremely astute, I of course did not notice this and instead asked the exact wrong question, which was "Where's the dog?"  Referring to her daughter's dachshund, who we are babysitting this week.  "THAT DOG IS BEING PUNISHED!" was her response and I almost dropped my cup of tea, I don't think I had ever heard Maite speak in a raised voice.  She then explained that Pioja had climbed up on the counter and somehow got on the stove where the leftover steak and our entire lunch was sitting in a huge pot, waiting to be cooked.  She knocked over the pot (this is the biggest pot I've ever seen and can probably fit three dachshunds, if we ever wanted to cook them) and ate all the steak that Maite was planning on serving four grown people, three of whom are Chilean.  The whole meal probably weighed more than she did. 

My first instinct was to laugh (wrong) but for the sake of the look on Maite's face, I didn't.  I have never ever been happy about wasted food, especially steak.  But now we're having a big pile of veggies for lunch instead, and after three days of steak and rice, I could not be happier.  I imagine Lalo (host dad) will have a fit, he hates vegetables. 

P.S. Look at this:

 There's no way to explain this house other than it must be the place where everyone puts their dead appliances to rust together. 

A List of Great Things

Because it's important to be thankful.  Here is what I'm thankful for this minute.

1.  Free movies.  Turns out the Cine Club at my school shows free classic movies on the weekdays.  Yesterday I watched the Godfather and the today was Apocalypse Now (guess it was Brando/Coppola week).  The rub is that they've been doing this all year and I've just ignored the fliers (dum dum dum).  One thing I have really missed this year is accessibility to movies, both new ones and old standbys that I used to watch monthly (10 months with no LOTR is an anomaly).  I get that you can watch movies on the internet, but most often the quality doesn't cut it for me and watching on the computer is not as fun as on a screen, especially the big screen.

2. Abuelita's quips.  I can't wait until I'm 93 and get to say whatever I want.  Examples: 

"You are much prettier when you aren't hungover." - At lunch the other day (she's probably right).

"You're going to make a wonderful housewife."  - Whenever I do the dishes (daily), it's a compliment.

"If you want to stay in Chile it's simple.  Just find a man and marry him." - Oh, so that's how you do it.  Simple.

"You don't want to get fat." - Whenever I refuse a second helping of anything (daily).

"Poor Seba." - On Chilean President, Sebastian Piñera.  They're on friendly terms, apparently.

"I saw on the news that even girls are protesting!" - On the Patgonia and education protests.

"I need to modernize." - After requesting that I paint her nails blue.

Also, after she says anything funny like above, I always smile, laugh or nod sagely, but Maite always says,  "Ay, mamá!"  




3. My hot water bottle.  The best invention.  I don't know how I ever got through winter without warming up my sheets with the guatero while I brush my teeth (although I suspect central heating has something to do with it).  Chileans call it "pololo," meaning boyfriend because it heats up your bed (good one, guys).  Abuelita and I have matching ones.

4.  Street dogs.  They are such a part of this city and South America...I'm never afraid of walking around at night because I'm never alone.  Some dog is always following me.  I'll miss you guys.  There's The Dog We Don't Touch, Big Balls Chip, Wolf Dog, Chica, Don Jimmy (RIP), Señor Pulgas and of course, Guiseppe/Rat Face/Red Eye. I would give you all a hug if I wasn't afraid of your diseases.  Sigh...I'm going to miss South America.  

The most famous dog (he has his own fbook page).  Photo by Jac.

A Well Documented Year

I learned a great many things these past ten months and one of my favorite lessons has to do with the thousands of pictures I took.  I've been here about 300 days and I have about 2,000 pictures which makes about seven photos per day.  Of course, I took more pictures on some days than others (I'm looking at you, Macchu Picchu) but that's seven more than I have ever been accustomed to taking of daily life activities like say, eating lunch.  But guess what: I love all my pictures.  This new thing had to come over quite a few obstacles to become one of my favorite new things and I will outline them for your reading pleasure now.

 One of my all time favorites from the continent.  Aguas Calientes, Perú. 

First.  My generation has a problem with public overexposure.  The fact that I am even writing this on the internet is Exhibit A.  So personal photo myth #1 that I used to believe is that since so many people my age take pics, there is no need for me to worry about it.  This is still partly true, in that I still rely on my peers to document drunken revelries, and let's face it, no party these days is complete without gems like this to remember them by: 

Thank you, McSnicks, party documenter extraordinaire.

Which leads me to myth #2, that you have to put every photo you take on the internet.  Well, you don't.  I have quite a few pics on fbook but not all of them.  This is an unknown concept for some of my peers.

Myth #3 was that you can't take good photos with little point and shoots.  It's sort of astonishing to me that I ever thought this.  These things cost like, $200 and I thought you couldn't take great photos without one of the even more expensive ones?  Well, I was wrong, and before you people with really nice cameras jump out of your seats to tell me about how great your Nikon 30093.74 gamma that transforms into an x-wing is, let me say that I'm sure it is and I'm not denying the shots that come out of those cameras.  But having really expensive stuff around makes me nervous and I learned how to use my little canon and could not be more pleased with it.  Just look at THIS:

I am very aware that it is impossible to take a bad photo of penguins.  

 The final and fourth myth was the thought that since I am not a (capital P) Photographer, I have no business being creative about photos on my little canon (goes along with myth #3).  I feel kind of dumb about admitting all this, it all sounds really stupid now.  Since when have I, Erin, who can name 50 breeds of dogs in four minutes, been afraid of being creative without permission?  And who isn't giving their permission, anyway?  Jeez.  Well, I got over that and frequently go rule-of-thirds crazy.  Yes, I took a photo of raindrops on grass and yes, I like it. 

Another souvenir from a great walk.

 I have to give some credit here, though.  I would not have come to this hobby (is that the right word?) on my own.  Left to my own devices, I would probably still think that travel photos can't be anything other than bad shots of me smiling in front of things, which are still definitely necessary, but not the only possibility (this is all so obvious to me now).  So, thank you to my trusty travel buddy and great friend, Jac.  Who herself has a beautiful photo blog here.  She takes all her photos with a "little Canon", although it is a little nicer than mine, it isn't one of the crazy ones and she knows nothing about lenses.  She will tell you that she only takes good pictures because she takes so many, and she certainly does.  But maybe that's just it.  A good (lower case p) photographer has got to be prolific.  And darned if I'm not trying, or at least trying harder than I was ten months ago.  

The famous Jac, camera safely in hand. 

Caminar

I do not take my ability to walk for granted.  Not everyone can walk, you know.  Not everyone has functional legs that will take them any which way they please.  Lately, as a thank you to my knees, ankles, feet, toes, hips and buns for working, I've been a-walkin.  I can make it to school in an hour if I focus but if I want to be leisurely and stop and take pictures, it's more like and hour and fifteen.  Time flies when you're listening to Wait Wait or Stuff You Should Know (I prefer to pretend that Chuck and Josh are hot young guns so I ignore the parts where they mention they're like, 40).  I like it because that cup of crappy tea when I make it home tastes a little better when I've been in the cold for an hour.  And I can stop and take a picture of anything I want, like this:

In other news, please recall that the seasons are switched in the Southern Hemisphere so today is the seasonal equivalent of December 14.  And I have to say, December royally SUCKS without Christmas.  It is so fracking cold that I wait until the last possible moment to shower (kind of a bad idea for a person none too intent on showering regularly in the first place) because I don't want to take my pants off but then stay in the shower for twenty minutes because it's so toasty.  Wait, I've got more.  It's so fracking cold that I sleep with my bra at the foot of my bed because if I don't, it's like strapping ice to my skin in the morning.  Like camping.  However, I have started reading by the fireplace downstairs while Abuelita knits and the sky tries to take the house down, which is pretty cute.

Always Hungry

If I have talked to you while down here there is a good chance you've heard me both complain and rave about Chilean food.  One of the things I am most looking forward to about going home is to eliminate from my diet mayonnaise, white bread, ketchup as an acceptable topping on white rice and overcooked pasta, low quality vegetables, ceylon tea, nescafé, the "juice", boiled hot dogs, boiled vegetables, soup from mix, ham, shellfish, and eating meat every day.  I am a girl that loves a rare steak but this is excessive:  

 If you were thinking that four people would have a hard time eating all this, you were mistaken.  Welcome to Sunday in Chile.  In the words of Big Joe: "Full is a state of mind."

But what Chile lacks in healthy food, it makes up for in fried things, meat and fried things with meat in them.  And for every minute I spend complaining about Chilean food, I could easily (and do) spend twice that talking about how good the good stuff is.  For example, I simply don't know what I'm going to do when I can't get empanadas at any time of day or night, probably cry.

  They really are that good. 

Other Chilean staples that I love: 

Choripan

Choripan is chorizo in pan (bread).  Chorizo is a DElicious South American sausage that is usually grilled.  It isn't a hot dog, don't even.  You nestle that sucker in a little french bread roll that you heated up on the grill and open yourself a beer and you've got a classic Chilean appetizer at the asado (bbq).  The first time I had this, I thought it was lunch, so I had two.  Then I was served the steak and potatoes...

Just call me a Pavlov Dog. (That was so lame)

The Completo
I complained about them earlier, and I still think that boiled hot dogs, especially when served next to a pile of white rice with ketchup, are GROSS.  But did you know that when you put a small hot dog in a huge bun and top tomato, avocado, mayo and saurkraut on it, it is actually heaven?  I don't even like saurkraut!  Hello Completo.

Hot dogs are awesome when the hot dog is not the main event.

Once (pronounced on-say)

 Since we eat a big, meat heavy lunch every day, dinner is a much smaller affair and I really really like it.  It's called once and it is usually toast (made from hayullah, basically a Chilean bagel, sort of) with a bunch of different stuff to put on it.  Jams, butter, ham, cheese, tomatoes, avocado and whatever is in the fridge--it all goes great on toast.  And it does!  It's a really nice way to eat something a little lighter before bed.  Best when accompanied by tea or coffee.

The weird things in the upper left are potato pancakes.

Put an Egg on It
Not sure how to round out that meal of...absolutely anything?  Put-An-Egg-On-It.  (Sunny side up)

 

Egg & Lentils, one of my favorite lunches.  Really.

Other Culinary Treasures:

Trufas

Jac (via her blog) when she first discovered Trufas: "Oh golly, trufas.   They’re like balls of mellow, approachable, chocolate dough covered in more chocolate.  I just learned about them and there’s this cute little place called Café Donde La Negra that has been my dealer."

Berlines

Jac (via above blog) when she first discovered Berlines: "...those caramel filled doughnut things.  They’re probably the answer to everything."

Manjar

Jac on manjar: "Manjar = this extremely popular dulce de leche/caramelly business.  (One might ask, “what ISN’T filled with manjar here?”)"

Sopaipillas

Fried dough heaven.  Just found out my host mom fries them with...lard.  Heart, I am so sorry for choosing Chile.

This post is long.  As you may know, I could dedicate a whole blog to food.  Thanks for hanging in there, dear (and by now I imagine hungry) reader.  See you in just over a month!  (WHAT?!)

An Update on the Weather

"If people think nature is their friend they sure don't need an enemy." - (the ever quotable) Kurt Vonnegut

So a huge volcano violently blew up pretty close to my town last Saturday and I thought maybe it wasn't actually that big of a deal or something until Tuesday, when I started getting questions about it from up North.  Apparently ash travels faster than news from Nowheresville, Southern Hemisphere (zing!).  If  you happened to read something on the internet (like this or this) and wondered if that was anywhere near where I am, it is!  Here are some photos taken by friends of mine from my town:

 Thanks Max!

Thanks Stefan!

Awesome pics, guys!  I read somewhere that the plume is something like six miles high which is just nuts.  Also, we can't see the plume anymore because it's been raining intensely since Sunday.

Luckily,  the wind was not blowing in our direction, or we would be covered in literal feet of ash, like Argentina.  The cloud reached Buenos Aires yesterday, shutting down the airport and mucking up the air (sucks to your ass-mar!) and water.  This is insane because BA is hundreds of miles away.  Hundreds!  People are being evacuated and we are all on high alert for any post-eruption earthquakes.  But something positive did come out of all the craziness.  I learned that the word 'eruptar' does not mean 'to erupt' ('explocionar') but rather, 'to burp.'  Can you imagine if I would have left Chile without learning that?  Me either.  

Muy VIP

Hilarious Spanish thing:  "You have sleepy face" (tienes cara de sueño) is a perfectly appropriate, correct and mature thing to say.  Basically it means, "you look tired."

So in this blog I use the word 'I' quite a bit.  That is sort of the whole point of a blog, I know, and I've come to terms with it.  But today I'm mixing it up and will be using the words 'she,' 'her' and 'that crazy old bat' a little more.  No, I will not be doing this post in the third person (worst idea ever?); I'm dedicating this post to an awesome Chilean, who I happen to live with, my Abuelita Chilena. 

About the cat: Lalito looks cute but don't be fooled, he is fat, always gets into fights, sticks his big fuzzy balls in your face when you're trying to do homework and he smells bad.  Yes, I live with Smelly Cat. 

Her real name is Genoveva something but I had to look it up because we only ever call her La Abuelita, Little Grandma.  But what this lady lacks in stature she makes up for in vivacity and a trait I'm calling with it-ness.  Because, people, she is with it.  Every day she puts on her pearls and her red lipstick (I'm totally experimenting with red lipstick when I get home, by the way) and she has a very excellent collection of cardigans.  She leaves the house about once a week for one of two reasons: heart check up with her cardiologist (who comes over for dinner sometimes) or to get her hair done.  Her days consist of reading the newspaper, sipping Nescafe (her only fault?), telling me how to be a lady and knitting.  And she knits the most beautiful things, mostly tiny cardigans and pants for infants.  

Back in September, she fell in the middle of the night on the way to the bathroom, messing up her hip.  It was terrifying, they drove her to the hospital at like 2am.  She was bedridden (what a terrible word) for a few weeks and her friends came over during the week to chat and drink Nescafe and eat cookies by her bedside, which was precious.  But after a month or so, she was back on her feet, with the help of a walker.  Today, she uses only a cane and can climb stairs!

She is an inspiration to me because she is a living example of aging well.  At 93, she keeps her mind active by reading and knitting (and watching Tempano, a real brain stimulant) and is just of a lovely disposition.  It's easy for me to say now, not faced with the tough realities of an aging parent or grandparent, but I really think that in the future I will open my home to my parents and grandparents before putting them in a nursing home, depending on their wishes.  But nursing homes don't really exist here, kids grow up with grandparents in the house and think it's a great thing. 

Often, she is more dressed up than I am at lunch.

So that's my Abuelita Chilena, I love her and she has taught me a lot about how different societies treat, house and perceive their elderly.  Dude, she doesn't even wear GLASSES!  Machine.

Tempano or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Telenovela

YOU GUYS!  My world was shattered this week when we learned that the killer is actually the ex-lover of the captain who also is the mother of his bastard daughter!  And it makes TOTAL sense, how did we miss it?!  Susana, you sneaky, psycho woman, you.

What I'm talking about is the latest development in Tempano, the prime time Chilan soap opera that my Chilean grandma and I watch together every weeknight.  The basic 'plot' is that a bunch of people were killed on a cruise ship in Patagonia, setting us up with a classic locked room mystery.  The suspects include the rich captain and his entire family, his lover/head of staff on the ship, her daughter (who also turned out to be the daughter of the ship captain), the chef who was sleeping with (turned out just for the money) the captain's sister and -- you know what, just check out this chart I made:

 

 Okay so now that we're all clear on who's who, here's the important stuff:  

 I have a massive crush on this guy: Javier, the detective of eternal scruff.  Hot but tortured and assigned to the case.  Just look at that leather jacket!

 She is the only person in the show who I would want to be friends with: Lissette, adorable worker on the ship who is just always in the wrong place at the wrong time (plus, they all judge her for being poor).  She always has on bangin red lipstick.

The show is bad.  Really not good.  Each episode ends with a freeze frame close up of someone's (who just received some shocking news) face and a fade to black and white.  The dirty secrets of the family never end, and who finds out and when is always a major plot point.  The most used phrase on the show is "¿Qué estás haciendo aquí?" What are you doing here?  No one can do anything controversial (usually involving kissing someone you shouldn't) without someone walking in on you, no one knocks, ever.  There is cousin love.  I know these shows exist in the US but I also know that they are on at one in the afternoon, not prime time.  So why do I love it so much!?

This is my third Chilean telenovela that I have sat through.  The first was Martin Rívas: Adventures of a Dreamer, set in the early 19th century during Chile's Independence War (the finale coincided with the bicentennial) and the other was The Family Next Door, about two rich Santiago families that hate and do terrible things to each other (this one was even wackier than Tempano, involving evil twins and a fake paraplegic).  The telenovelas don't have seasons, they're just one story that goes for a few months and then the next one comes on.  The funny thing is that the Chilean acting pool isn't that big so the actors are all recycled, Martin Rívas is one of the detectives on Tempano.  No one seems to mind. 

I have come to realize that I like Tempano the best because I understand what they are saying.  I have been here nine months now and finally, finally, I get it.  I didn't look forward to Martin Rívas because even though I knew crazy stuff was going on, I didn't know what or why.  And when you know, it's hilarious.  My understanding of Spanish has increased by 200% in my time here, partly, I know it, by listening to soap operas for an hour a day.  I'm still learning of course, and from Tempano, I've learned some really important phrases like, "lover," "to have an affair," promiscuous person" and "paternity test."  That, and it's become a little ritual between me and little grandma.  And lately, it's been pretty cold so she prefers to watch it in her room rather than in the kitchen, so we've been watching it in her bed, a scene that has brought my host dad to literal tears of laughter.  I'll ask him to take a picture one of these days.  

So, Tempano, just keep doing what you're doing, my grandma and I will keep watching, you are yet another silly yet beloved aspect of my Chilean life.  

 

Goodbye from the cast, who is judging you.