Moving Forward in the Southern Hemisphere

Hey kids,

An initial draft entry for this blog was pushing 750 words, so I decided to scratch it all and start anew. Besides that discarded draft bing a reflection of sloppy writing, I realized it might also be an indicator that I should post more often, with shorter posts. I'll work on making these posts happen more often.

Much has happened in the almost two weeks since I've posted: I've explored some new areas of Santiago, registered for classes, done some (but not nearly all) of my class readings, and, I like to think, started to make some friendships here. I've also been enjoying the somewhat adventuresome task of figuring out what food to make for myself (hint: avocados tend to be a main ingredient). This weekend I'm moving to an apartment in downtown Santiago on Saturday and I'm hoping to maybe go rowing for the second time on Sunday and perhaps find time to search for a bike. I also have a short essay/reflection due in a week and a half on a novel I haven't read yet (Brazilian author, Spanish translation), so I think I should maybe crack open that book at some point too. No guarantees though.

Getting into the routine of academic life has been a bit of a process down here. The first problem I encountered revolved around course registration: we international students received a big blue book on the first day with class options, schedules, and classroom locations. I dutifully went through the book highlighting classes I wanted to go to, then trying to find the classrooms indicated in the book. The problem with this, of course, is that the schedules and classroom locations are often changed after the printing of the book, with an email to everyone who has electronically registered for the course letting them know the changes. Those emails never reach international students because we can't register online like Chilean students. The result, as you might imagine, is somewhat frustrating and confusing.

On the first day of class I had arrived early for my first scheduled class, tracked down the indicated classroom, and dutifully took a seat in the back. After jotting down notes as the professor explained the syllabus, it suddenly occurred to me that what I thought would be a history class really had no need for a linear algebra section in the syllabus. That realization that this wasn't in fact a history class was followed by a couple of minutes of steeling myself to walk out on the lecture (from the back of a 100+ person class). When the prof paused to open a classroom window I thought I should take my chance, only to be interrogated by the prof (who was more watchful than I'd have given him credit for) as to why I was leaving only fifteen minutes into class. I then explained to everyone, in somewhat broken/nervous Spanish, that I was an exchange student and had already taken the last math class in my life and had no interest in taking any others. At least I think that's what I said.

Needless to say, I quickly learned to check with my neighbors to ensure I was in the right class. And, as of last week, I am successfully registered in four classes here: Populism in Latin America (PoliSci), The City and the Novel in Latin America (Literature), Twentieth Century History of Latin America and Chile, and Nineteenth Century Themes of Latin America and Chile. So far I'm most excited about my populism and 20th century history classes; the readings for those classes (a combination of texts in Spanish and English) have been super interesting.

I feel like things are slowly moving forward down here. An exchange student who's been down here for a semester already described to me a phenomenon about figuring out Spanish language skills that I think is actually applicable to being an exchange student in general: There are good days and bad days. While at first they seem to alternate perfectly, with time, the space between the bad days grows to several days and then to weeks at a time. The bad days, when you miss friends and family at home, get frustrated with Chileans, or just feel crummy, don't ever entirely go away, but there will be fewer of them. Deep, I know. But what that really means is that while there are times here where I'm overwhelmed by the proposition of creating a new network of friends, making a different city home, and being away from my base of support, I'm also exhilarated by the opportunity this presents. I've got a list (in my head, at least) of Chilean and South American destinations I want to make it to, of new dishes I want to try to cook, and of skills I'd like to have by the time I leave. I'll be lucky to make it through half of them.

As always, thanks for reading. Check out some of these shots from the last couple weeks of wanderings.

I joined the university's bike advocacy group for a bike ride up an extinct volcano in Santiago. Cool view of the Andes east of the city and the smog that Santiago is blessed with. Photocred: VoyenCleta UC

 The boat storage area on Lago Aculeo where the rowers from Universidad de Chile row. They use a combination of vintage Argentinean- and new Chinese-made boats.

 After rowing, we had a barbecue at one of the rower's time-share houses overlooking the lake. Photo cred: Manuel Reyes

View from the patio looking down on Lago Aculeo at the Cordillera de la Costa (the shorter, westernmost mountains running down the length of Chile parallel to the Andes). Photo cred: Manuel Reyes

Aún estoy vivo!

Well, you've gotta be grateful for the little things in life.

After a serially/seriously delayed flight from Dallas-Fort Worth, I finally got to Santiago on Monday night. Unfortunately, the night wasn't over then. Before leaving for Santiago I reserved a room in a private university residence, made a deposit to secure my spot, and gave the residence a rough estimate of when my flight was supposed to arrive. Then my flight got delayed because of ice storms in DFW, and instead of arriving midday Monday I was told I would arrive around 8 pm local time. I let the residence know by email, I even called them to make sure there'd be someone at the residence when I arrived to let me in...

Obviously there was no one there to let me in when I showed up. It didn't help that I had told the taxi driver the wrong address, and that I was getting in around midnight instead of around 8 pm, as I had estimated (delayed flight, again). To my great fortune, though, I had chosen a super nice cab driver, who helped me call the residence on his cell phone during the half an hour period while we searched for the residence. We finally figured out that I had given him the wrong address, and we made our way to the correct spot. By that time someone had been woken up to let me in; she vainly tried to help me carry my enormous suitcases through the narrow hallways, eventually letting me struggle with the bags by myself. She showed me my room (a closet, more or less), and I collapsed into bed.

The next morning I was awoken by a knock on the door. One of the residence employees was at my door telling me someone was on the phone asking for me. I picked up the phone to hear a woman saying, "James, I'm the agent who stamped your passport last night when you passed through customs at the airport, and I'm calling because I made an error with your stamp."

So that was a little disconcerting. It turns out, she had stamped SAL (salida, or exit) on my passport, instead of (ENT, entrada). Although Chile's computer system would show that I had entered the country legally, someone only looking at my passport might have reason to believe that I had entered the country illegally. She explained this all to me, and suggested that we meet so that she could fix the stamp, so we agreed to meet in a metro station half an hour later. Forty-five minutes later (or a Chilean half hour, I think) we found each other in a metro station. While I had expected she might bring a new stamp, she instead whipped out a ballpoint pen and doctored the stamp, writing ENT over the letters SAL. And while I had serious doubts about this "solution," I was able to register on Friday with Chile's International Police without this causing any problems.

If after reading this you're shitting bricks about going through Chilean customs, don't: my overall impression was that the system was effective and quick. And the fact that the agent who helped me made a mistake is not nearly as notable as the fact that she tracked me down (I didn't provide a phone number, so she had to look it up through the police) to let me know she had screwed up and then, after working all night, met up with me that morning (still wearing her work suit) to find me. Before coming to Chile I read a lot about how Chile's progress in creating stable institutions and reducing corruption; while I can't pretend to have seen much more than a small picture of Chile's government functions, what I have seen has given me confidence.

All of that happened within about twelve hours of my arrival in Chile. Throughout this week, I find myself looking back at what I've done that day and been exhausted at the thought. That's not to say I've been super busy: I've spent plenty of time reading for pleasure and perusing Facebook; rather, so many things are new to me, and it will still be some time before I can relax into any kind of routine. Slowly, though, I'm figuring things out. Food hasn't been easy: while I have access to ovens, stoves, and fridge space, that's just about it. Today I finally made my way to Líder (Walmart Chile) and bought a couple of pans, in addition to some basic ingredients like rice, beans, and pasta. These will go a long way to supplementing my current diet, which has been heavily influenced by wonderfully cheap Chilean produce (peaches and nectarines are especially good right now). I'll spend the next couple of days attending classes; on Wednesday I can begin registering myself permanently. In the meantime, I've found a small community of rowers in Santiago, located Calle Jorge Washington, and told every Chilean who will listen about how cool I think it is that we basically share the same flag. Most have at least feigned interest, bless their hearts.

That's a lot of text for just one post. I'll update with some more of what's going on here soon enough. Till then, here's a few photos of this week's wanderings, all part of my gradual quest to make Santiago home. Thanks again for reading.

Metro Santiago, Línea 5

Santiago's Plaza de Armas. It's undergoing restoration efforts, scheduled to finish in June