La ciudad patas pa'arriba

Hola todos,

It's nearly been two weeks since I arrived, but it feels like much longer. Thanks to a long orientation with the other 30 Americans and 7 Georgetown students  in my program, texts, emails, Facebook messenger, and Skype, the reality of just how far away I am from home has taken a while to settle in.

I've moved in with my wonderful host family (Ivan and Marcela with their children Emilia and Cristóbal, nanny Rosa, and dog Amelio and cat Tom), figured out to navigate this crazy maze of a city on my own, and started classes despite a university-wide student strike that means that my classmates are international students only.

I can't name a specific moment when the distance set in. It's been a gradual submersion rather than the quick icy plunge eleven years of diving (and 3/4 of a very proud summer of coaching) accustomed me to. I had my host sister help me illustrate the physical distance between here and home:

That is more than two palm's lengths!

But, what the week and a half here has taught me more clearly and definitely, is that physical distance is     not what matters. What has actually made me feel far away is cultural distance. The realization that there is no one, no place, and no thing in my daily life here that I know is one who's impact I could not have predicted.

I have had moments of hilarious frustration that I would never have expected. A trip to buy slippers in a Chilean shoe store turned into a half hour quest to find the right-footed pairs to a mountain of left-footed slippers. We finally gave in and asked a little old lady (always the right person to go to with your gingo problems), who let us know what was clearly displayed on the sign we had missed:

Right foot only displayed

My attempt to buy one bunch of bananas instead of a kilo from one of the stalls on my street (picture ramshackle stores overflowing onto the streets with fruits and vegetables all priced with hand-written cardboard signs) resulted in me exasperatedly purchasing one banana to the extreme amusement of everyone around me.

Taking the micro (the speeding, swaying, overflowing, colorful public buses here) is a serious accomplishment and surviving a my host brother's 5 year-old birthday party was as exhausting as an 80 minute rugby game.

However, I've realized that these difficulties come hand-in-hand with the greatest opportunity I've ever been offered: the opportunity to discover. I can't do full justice to what I've discovered about Valparaiso, this crazy city of contrasts and lives piled literally and metaphorically on top of each other, so far. Here are some pictures to do the job:

My host sister and brother Emilia and Cristóbal, playing in the jardín under our house

My walk home from school

My favorite trees here, aromos, in a park in Viña del Mar

My perrito, Emilio, the schnauzer mediano

The sunset ove the Pacific ocean

The central class building at la Católica

My house at the top of a VERY large hill

A view of the cerros at night 

Cristóbal's birthday party

Bandit cat graffiti on Cerro Concepción

A slide that I absolutely had to go down

Another view of the cerros at night from the metro station

The UNREAL view from my window

 The Chileans I have met so far are quiet, introspective people. They are great observers and when prompted, offer their thoughts so eloquently and honestly. One of my profes explained that traveling is the way we get to know ourselves. Seeing and living another way of life will reveal similarities and contrasts. This allows us to see ourselves and what we know through different eyes. It is by that process that we truly get to know ourselves and our world.

As a speaker at a talk on what Valpo means quoted from an old Chilean song,


Yo los quiero decir lo que he observado
Para que nos vayamos conociendo

I want to tell you what I have observed

So that we can continue getting to know each other.

I feel sometimes that that's what this city is saying to me.

Love to all from afar, poh.

(The title of this one is my favorite Chilenismo so far, literally: the city with its feet in the air)

Que te vaya bien.

Hello all! I’m not sure I will be nearly as witty or well-spoken as I’d like for my first blog post - the first leg of my journey has stolen a lot of my sleep and focus – but it’s time to begin:

For the last few weeks, I had felt as if I were hurdling head-over-heels towards my departure. Time had been slipping through my fingers as I tried desperately to tame my monstrous to-do lists, say my goodbyes to loved ones, and pile six months worth of belongings into my suitcases. Leaving for the airport yesterday afternoon, I was certain that time’s sprint would continue at pace and I’d be landing in Santiago before I knew it whether I was ready for it or not.

My flight from Atlanta to Santiago arrived this morning at 8:10. I however, did not. Thanks to a ground stop at the Atlanta airport all of yesterday afternoon and early evening and mysterious mechanical problems, I was delayed, rebooked, delayed, rebooked, and delayed again. After a lot of generous use of the Delta app that resulted in having to stand at a charging station for an hour while my phone refueled, several desperate explanations of my situation to various Delta help desks, whose excessive height makes me feel like a little kid,  and an extra forty minutes circling in the air before being allowed to land, I arrived in Atlanta three hours late. Needless to say, I missed my flight to Chile.

So, I write from the Holiday Inn and Conference Center. My time in the airport last night included more lines (it seems as if half the world is stuck in Atlanta), tense conversations with airline representatives, and a lot of resting my head on countertops until I finally got to my room at 2:00 AM (which is honestly the latest I’ve stayed up in a while). I will instead be flying from Atlanta to Miami this afternoon at 4:00, then departing from there tonight at 11:00.

Though the view of the torch from the 1996 Atlanta Olympics is not what I was expecting and this process has been frustrating, stressful, and disappointing, I can see the good in it. I’ve learned a lot about airports and flying and gained confidence in myself as a real adult and solo traveler. Nearly everyone along the way, from my neighbor at the charging station trying to get back to his infant son, to the over-worked, mistreated ladies at the Delta counters, to the man who offered to lift my very-heavy suitcase into the overhead compartment, has been friendly, commiserating and kind. I’ve met people and had wonderful conversations that would never have occurred without the sort of instant camaraderie reliably conjured by  shared distress. Rather than spend the night in the airport food court like hundreds of others, I had a place to sleep - ie: toss and turn -  last night (Thanks M & D). My suitcase miraculously does not appear to be lost.

And most of all, this crazy delay has finally slowed time back down. In a way, I think I needed this extra day. Sitting here in this hotel room a continent away from where I need to be, I can finally say that I’m really, truly, ready to start my adventure.

(And for those of you who don’t know, my adventure is this: a semester studying at Pontificia Universidad Católica de Valparaíso, living with a host family, hiking, traveling around Chile, and discovering. Stay tuned for further explanation of what I’m doing, where I am, and what in the world my blog title means.)

Love to all.