Feliz día del padre

So, not to just go off on machismo in Chile, but truthfully, every day is Father's Day here. Like, no joke, our father's day celebration today did not differ significantly from other meals we've had together. My host mom made the meal, my host dad sat at the table and waited for his plate to be brought, and he subsequently waited for his coffee and ice cream to be brought to him after the meal was done. My host mom then clears the table and does all the dishes herself. This is every meal in my house. Every single evening after dinner, my host dad says something along the lines of "gordita, traígame un cafecito porfa", (honey (lit. fatty) bring me a coffee, please) and although sometimes the answer is "get it your ownself" mostly she just brings him his coffee. He also refuses to prepare his own plate. At lunch, when he comes in from his office and the rest of us are already eating, my host mom has to put down her fork and get her husband his meal, all nicely arranged. We do not do family style dishing up here, because that would mean that Cristobal would have to get his own food off a central serving dish (oh the ignominy!) and put it on his own plate. How dare he have to do something so simple for himself? So yeah. Machismo. One thing that really truly bothers me about Chile, and is definitely an area where the US wins hands down. Also I ate rabbit. I'm not really sure how many other meats I've eaten that I probably wouldn't have if I'd known what they were, but I know they exist, because sometimes at dinner it's just better not to ask these questions and eat the carne in front of me.

Also this isn't really at all related, except that it has to do with my host dad: he found out that COPA (my study abroad program) offers us a tour of Villa Gribaldi and the cemetery next Friday; as an educational tour of the main torture facility of the Pinochet regime, and a chance to see the memorials to the desaparecidos and dead. He said, and I quote: "Oye pero todo eso de Villa Gribladi… es una mentira, po'" (All of that stuff in Villa Gribaldi is lies). He thinks that all the memorials and all this stuff about the disappeared and such is just a lie concocted by the leftist governments to follow Pinochet. And he just says it. It's not like other countries where military dictatorships happen, and after they're over, everyone agrees that they were wrong and that they killed a whole lot of people. In Chile, half the country still thinks of Pinochet as "mi general" and they still worship the ground he walks on! And the other half was oppressed by him or tortured, and have family or friends among the desaparecidos. "but all of that was just because the commies were going to rise up and kill us all! Us poor hardworking middle class!" Says my host father who just bought a Wii ($450) on a whim. I love my host family, but I can't stand my host father's politics. Not to mention, my host mom showed me a slide show which tried to tell me that all communists are rich people from Hollywood and that it's the right wing conservatives who actually do good and actually help the poor. And my host dad says that's why he supports the extreme right; they're the only ones who actually help anyone…

But yeah. Happy father's day. I really need to stop distracting myself with silly rants and just get back to the paper I'm supposed to be writing, but I really had to complain a little bit about that. Also, I find something problematic about COPA having our end of semester meeting in the swankiest country club in town. I mean… I'll post pictures soon, and this place was insane. I was intimidated by the wealth. And it was up on a cerro overlooking the city, and there were large indoor-outdoor heated swimming pools, hot tubs, amazing food; and even though I had a good time, I felt it was problematic to be a gringa and to be in a place that so obviously caters only to the absolute elite. Why is it all right for us to be in this place, when I know that my host family probably wouldn't even make it to the second gate, and they're pretty upper crust. It really drives home the economic disparity of Chile, to see the guy who sleeps in the park near my house, and then go to this exclusive club. But yeah, back to real work now!

Here is what our administration building looked like after it had been toma-ed. They were having a meeting in there while I was taking these pictures, and we went to talk to one of the girls. She said that after their meeting she'd be happy to let us in and show us around their toma-ed builiding. I'll have to get some more impressive pictures of the massive desk structures they throw together to block gates and stuff at other campuses. I'm impressed by the sheer artistry of it! Anyway, this is what a toma-ed building looks like. I guess in the video footage from BBC you can see the desks and chairs blocking the gates. It's pretty impressive.

All (or a few) of my shenanigans

So I find I discover something new and weird almost every day here, and one of my revelations in the past week is this weird fruit called “caqui or kaki”. It’s a winter fruit, apparently, and unlike other fruits that grow in winter, caqui trees lose all their leaves and just keep the fruit. My host mom described it as “una fruta triste y sola” because it looks so lonely there. However, one of our neighbors has one of the trees, and the effect for me is more like Christmas decorations. You know, oversized Christmas lights on a leafless tree. It just happens that these lights are attached, and apparently make a delicious snack.

Another revelation is the ridiculously large amount of English-language porn on Chilean television. I swear, if I turn on the tv past 11, porn is on every other channel. Porn and soccer, and bad American reality tv, such as that horrible thing about the playboy bunnies. And of course, “Rock of Love”; my host sister is obsessed with that one. I was kind of hoping that the reality tv craze would not have such a strong hold on other countries, but Chile is the US’s protégé in all things American consumer pop culture.

In other news, I am now a married woman. Don’t worry, our vows are not official, but there was a ceremony one interesting night in Barrio Bellavista. My friends Chris and Tim and I were all out at about one o’clock in the morning, and the homeless guy at the table next to us asked us to watch his coke while he ran to the bathroom. Of course, being the nice people we are, we agreed, however unreasonable we thought it that someone would actually steal his coke. Which they didn’t, until right as he was coming back and thanking us for our guard services. Some punk kid yoinked the coke and was walking away with both the glass and the bottle, and the homeless guy had to run after him to regain his prize. PS, if you’re ever interested, read up about the different social pandillas they have in most Latin American countries. When I say punk, we’re not talking some kid who thinks he’s a badass. We’re talking eighties heavy metal, hot pink Mohawk and chains look. Usually with motorcycles. My favorites are the pokemon though. I’ve probably mentioned them before. Then Homeless Guy asked if it was all right that he join our table.

His name was Carlos (I’m pretty sure, and it’s a safe bet anyway since half of Chile’s male population is named Carlos or Pablo. Or Juan. Seriously not an exaggeration). After sharing his life story, he told me I was beautiful; not an unexpected comment from a Chilean guy on the street. He thought that I was too pretty to be going without protection, because of all the uncouth Chileans running around, and that my friend Chris was just as good-looking. At least, that’s what I think he said, but he was kind of a mumbler and I was sitting the furthest away from him. Anyway, somehow he decided that beautiful people like us need to be together, especially so that way Chris could protect me from all the ordinarios (ghetto losers, and yes that was a classist comment on his part) running around. So we had an impromptu ceremony, where Carlos joined us forever in holy matrimony. Of course, I still couldn’t understand exactly what he said, but I believe it was something like “ésta es una promesa. Una promesa para siempre.” So I guess I’m off the market!

Anyway, that’s probably enough for now. The tomas (sit-ins or takeovers) at the University of Chile are pretty intense right now, and I haven’t gone to one of my classes for about two and a half weeks, and there’s no end in sight. Here’s a video from a protest last week: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/7424932.stm

It happened right outside one of my universities, and the metro station right there got flooded with the tear gas they were spraying, and they had to shut it down for a while. I was there that morning, but I missed all the fun. My host sister got caught with the gas when she was coming home from class, though. While I commend the Chilean students for being more politically active than us lazy American teens, they’re sort of screwing me over on the one class I needed here for my major. Kind of a bummer, but I’m sure it’ll somehow work out. In the meantime, there’s a teacher protest tomorrow so I don’t have class in the morning, and the truck drivers are in protest all across the country. So much political action… the US really needs to regain some of its politically active spirit, because if it’s widespread enough, the government cannot keep turning a blind eye.

So yeah, these are the sorts of shenanigans I get myself into here. Oo! Also, another good life experience – I went skinny dipping in the Pacific Ocean. Really good times; good, clean, invigorating fun! J