I am now in a tiny little black forest village called Salzstetten. I am staying with a host family whose numerous members seem to constantly come and go so that I can't tell who actually lives here. There's the older couple, their grown sons and daughters, one of the daughter's two young children, and a guinea pig. The two little kids are both very animated- with the exception of the son while he watches episodes of sponde-bob spuare-pants, during which he might as well be comatose. The rest of the time he is running around, playing with everything, constantly bringing me random household things, and throwing tantrums. I guess he must be almost 4. The little girl is almost two, but already understands everything you say and can talk pretty well. She is a little angel compared with her wild brother, but they get along really well.
Their mother spent time as an exchange student in Los Angeles, but so far I have only spoken in German with everyone, so my conversation ability has improved already... the grammar is all still a little beyond me- trying to remember that past tense transitive verbs use 'have' and intransitive ones use 'been' trips me up a little. I haven't even tried to nail down the article declinations in conversation, either. But my german class starts tomorrow, so I'll start to work on all that.
I practiced in my host family's house for the first time today. They said that they'd hosted a Taiwanese student a few years ago who was also a bassoonist. I played some well-known tunes for the kids, who were intrigued, and the family insisted that I was a better player than the other musicians they had previously hosted- probably out of politeness, seeing as my reeds are all on their deathbed and my technique is shaky after weeks of sparse practice. They said that I can practice here as much as I want, but I will try to see if there is some other place in the neighborhood I can go to practice- a church or community orchestra space.
I'm surprised by how beautiful the summer is here- maybe it's a consequence of living without real seasons in CA for 10 years. Here everything is bright green and when there's a breeze you smell all the plants. most of the buildings here are centuries-old farmhouses with flower gardens and fruit trees around. Traveling here, I have hardly ever been on what could be considered a highway by US standards. Everyone drives through fields and hills on little windy roads. At least one californian ran to puke in some bushes after our bus arrived in this rural area.
The food is pretty good here, too. We had a picnic yesterday, during which the two little kids climbed naked into a fountain and chased each other around screaming. I was pretty impressed by the quantity of various food items comprising the lunch: different sausages, breads, cheeses, fruits, salmon and beer. The Kebab places that everyone told me about are pretty good, but it's a strange sensation- it tastes like real food when you eat it, but afterwords in feels like you've just eaten a hot dog.
At our orientation in Tubingen, they tried to convince us to buy liability insurance, which covers anything that I destroy out of carelessness or recklessness during my stay in Germany. A lot of people signed up for it, too. I guess most people in Germany have it, but I felt a little weird paying for something that I've never heard if and have lived without for the rest of my life back home. Hopefully I don't carelessly set fire to any buildings or I'll regret my decision.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
I have a cell phone now. my number is 0716-35718250. I think that the German country code is 49. I really don't know how one calls from the US. I think from skype you don't put in any country code- just the number... maybe without the zero... I don't actually know.
I'd be happy to hear from anyone, but remember that it's 9 hours later here.
I'd be happy to hear from anyone, but remember that it's 9 hours later here.
Monday, August 10, 2009
germany
I'm here in Endingen, which is a tiny town among so many tiny towns each with lots of pointy red roofs and a few churches clustered around medieval town centers. I have been mostly spending my time practicing bassoon and enjoying a large variety of cheeses.
I spent my first week in Europe as sort of a camp counselor for German middle school kids who go to Switzerland each year to hike and canoe. We camped by some little town that, despite boasting a population of 66, dates back at least to the 17th century- probably older. Once on a hike we passed a bridge which spanned the Franco/swiss border. I was excited enough to walk across for a couple minutes, but none of the European kids was as impressed by the possibility of casually strolling across an international frontier.
We all sang campfire songs- most of them in english, actually. T was impressed how much English these kids can speak at such a young age. Definitely a few 11 to 14-year-olds whose English unquestionably surpasses my German.
The kids were all pretty interested in hearing about California and such. I entertained them with some circus tricks and dance moves which they then requested for the rest of the week.
A couple days ago I went to France with Julian, his sister, her husband, and their infant son. On the way to a medieval castle we stopped at a sort of monkey petting zoo. I politely fed the monkeys popcorn and didn't mention that I've always hated monkeys. They're like terrible little perverted, bad-mannered people. The castle was really cool, though. It had been restored in the first years of the 20th century under the order of Keiser Wilhelm II when that region was still in Germany.
Tonight Julian, his brother, his father, and I went out to a winery/restaurant for some local cuisine (potatoes, sausage, mustard...). The owner and his wife were honored to have a foreign guest, so they hot out the accordion and sang some German songs. Then they brought out a guitar and I played some willie nelson and elvis and then Julian dug into his endless repertoire. There was a brazilian lady there as well who ended up singing a few of the well-known bossa novas, and who turned out to be Julian's neighbor. We all played and sang late into the night while the owners kept bringing wine.
Tomorrow we will go to Freiburg, where I hope to open a bank account and to activate a cell phone that Julian's sister had extra. The next day I'm off the Tubingen to meet the other CA kids and to start my German program.
I spent my first week in Europe as sort of a camp counselor for German middle school kids who go to Switzerland each year to hike and canoe. We camped by some little town that, despite boasting a population of 66, dates back at least to the 17th century- probably older. Once on a hike we passed a bridge which spanned the Franco/swiss border. I was excited enough to walk across for a couple minutes, but none of the European kids was as impressed by the possibility of casually strolling across an international frontier.
We all sang campfire songs- most of them in english, actually. T was impressed how much English these kids can speak at such a young age. Definitely a few 11 to 14-year-olds whose English unquestionably surpasses my German.
The kids were all pretty interested in hearing about California and such. I entertained them with some circus tricks and dance moves which they then requested for the rest of the week.
A couple days ago I went to France with Julian, his sister, her husband, and their infant son. On the way to a medieval castle we stopped at a sort of monkey petting zoo. I politely fed the monkeys popcorn and didn't mention that I've always hated monkeys. They're like terrible little perverted, bad-mannered people. The castle was really cool, though. It had been restored in the first years of the 20th century under the order of Keiser Wilhelm II when that region was still in Germany.
Tonight Julian, his brother, his father, and I went out to a winery/restaurant for some local cuisine (potatoes, sausage, mustard...). The owner and his wife were honored to have a foreign guest, so they hot out the accordion and sang some German songs. Then they brought out a guitar and I played some willie nelson and elvis and then Julian dug into his endless repertoire. There was a brazilian lady there as well who ended up singing a few of the well-known bossa novas, and who turned out to be Julian's neighbor. We all played and sang late into the night while the owners kept bringing wine.
Tomorrow we will go to Freiburg, where I hope to open a bank account and to activate a cell phone that Julian's sister had extra. The next day I'm off the Tubingen to meet the other CA kids and to start my German program.
Friday, August 29, 2008
back in sf
Finally back at SF State. I'm taking conducting, orchestration (which seems really fun- the final project will be orchestrating a piece for full orchestra and having the sfsu symphony give it a run-through), ancient through baroque music history (which i took in chile, but i think this one will be more in depth), symphony, chamber music, and i'm trying to get into a very full biology class so I can graduate next semester. I don't think i'll do wind band... but if i do i might pl ay some contrabassoon- skill i need to learn sometime. I also got a job at the tutoring center on-campus. training starts tuesday. I'll be doing essay-writing, reading and study skills... possibly remedial math, but i sort of hope not, as I haven't studied math since high school calculus...
Though I'm once again in my country of birth, I feel foreign again. I live on the corner of 30th and Lincoln in SF, a block from Irving street. Irving is a great neighborhood with the full gamut of services offered, but all with an oriental angle. Hardly any english is spoken around here. A lady from whom I bought a toaster (what house doesn't have a toaster??) recommended in broken english that I check out the big supermarket down the block, assuring me that it had everything. That sounded great, so I went down there only to find shelves and shelves stocked with things I could not begin to name... pickled... vegetable..? animal..? I got some half-and half (sweet nugget of white-people food!) and looked for the most normal bread. I settled on a bread sort of like cinnamon-swirl, but with sweet mung-bean paste instead of cinnamon. It's pretty good toasted. I might buy it again. I related my experience there to my housemate (who i barely ever see... it's really like a live alone here) and she said that sometimes they'll have a bucket of live frogs.
Today I left in a hurry for an appointment at school and forgot my keys in my house. While I waited for my landlord to get back and let me in I went out for Pho at a place I've been eyeing for a few days. The place smells wonderfully like all the roast ducks hanging in the window. It's so packed that if you come in alone, as I did, they sit you down with random people. Since everyone else was Vietnamese, I was a little self-concious of my chopstick abilities... but I keep up pretty well. Along with the giant bowl of brothy, noodly, beefy pho they give you a glass of hot tea (nothing like hot tea and spicy soup on a hot day!), lots of sauces, fresh bean sprouts and fresh basil. All for $5.50. The prices are generllay really good in the neighborhood. Peaches are only $.59/lb. A lot of gestures, nods and smiles go on between me and the waiters and shopkeepers. It's almost like I'm more foreign here in SF than in Santiago.
I'm off now for a run to the beach through golden gate park.
Though I'm once again in my country of birth, I feel foreign again. I live on the corner of 30th and Lincoln in SF, a block from Irving street. Irving is a great neighborhood with the full gamut of services offered, but all with an oriental angle. Hardly any english is spoken around here. A lady from whom I bought a toaster (what house doesn't have a toaster??) recommended in broken english that I check out the big supermarket down the block, assuring me that it had everything. That sounded great, so I went down there only to find shelves and shelves stocked with things I could not begin to name... pickled... vegetable..? animal..? I got some half-and half (sweet nugget of white-people food!) and looked for the most normal bread. I settled on a bread sort of like cinnamon-swirl, but with sweet mung-bean paste instead of cinnamon. It's pretty good toasted. I might buy it again. I related my experience there to my housemate (who i barely ever see... it's really like a live alone here) and she said that sometimes they'll have a bucket of live frogs.
Today I left in a hurry for an appointment at school and forgot my keys in my house. While I waited for my landlord to get back and let me in I went out for Pho at a place I've been eyeing for a few days. The place smells wonderfully like all the roast ducks hanging in the window. It's so packed that if you come in alone, as I did, they sit you down with random people. Since everyone else was Vietnamese, I was a little self-concious of my chopstick abilities... but I keep up pretty well. Along with the giant bowl of brothy, noodly, beefy pho they give you a glass of hot tea (nothing like hot tea and spicy soup on a hot day!), lots of sauces, fresh bean sprouts and fresh basil. All for $5.50. The prices are generllay really good in the neighborhood. Peaches are only $.59/lb. A lot of gestures, nods and smiles go on between me and the waiters and shopkeepers. It's almost like I'm more foreign here in SF than in Santiago.
I'm off now for a run to the beach through golden gate park.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
I'm back in the city of kings, and recovering from a gnarly sickness that's kept me bedridden almost 5 days now. Edit has been taking great care of me. It's nice to have someone watch over me like this after being without family for so long. i finally went to go see a doctor (seeing a doctor here costs like $3) and she prescribed me Zitrobac (azitromicina). I don't know anything about drugs, but 500mg a day of this added to my diet of chicken soup and pepto bismol has really helped out. ¡Gracias, Zitrobac!
Iquitos totally blew me away. I'd never had a romantic moment ruined by a cloud of giant jungle mosquitos before Iquitos. The diet there is pretty much river fish, bananas, rice, fruit i've never heard of, chicken, and grubs. Big ol' gnarly white grubs with red heads. they put three of a stick and grill them like shishkabob. To avoid hipocracy, I must try all food, so of course i had a couple sticks of grubs. They were good, too! crunchy on the outside, creamy and sort of greasy on the inside... the heads were a little hard, though. There's barely any beef. People fry stuff, but mostly everything is grilled. Ceci's family cooked lunch for me. They have no stove or anything like that. the only appliances are the TV and stereo. they put bricks on the dirt floor, light charcoal between them and cook everything on a grate over this. Someone asked me if I liked to go camping. These people's lifestyle was camping as far as any 1st worlder is concerned.
Despite the humble lifestyle of the Iquitos folk, you couldn't ask for more decent, generous, friendly people. When someone is going to go out, they go into some curtained-off area of the house which appears to have a bucket of water and they come out perfectly groomed, wearing ironed clothes and makeup and smelling very pleasant. I wish the gringos in the hostel could accomplish the same with a conventional bathroom.
When one meets a family there, it's hard at first to know how everyone is related, who's kid is who's etc... These relations, however, don't seem to be such a big deal as they'd be in my own culture however. If the cousins have always slept in the same tiny house togehter, they're practically brothers. Personal space and property are not nearly as rigid. Neighbor kids would often come wandering through the house or looking in the windows whe I was visiting there. This communality especially applies to babies, though. Here you really do see a village raising a child. A few times now I've had people I hardly know thrust babies into my arms if they need free hands for a moment.
The flow of life is much more natural there. Having babies doesn't seem to be seen as a catastrophic earth-shattering existance alterer as it is in the US. People aren't as judgemental about your education or family, nor are they as self-concious. I was going over to a friend's house for the first time and she sort of made a quick disclaimer en route that her family's house was simple and not to expect much. Of course I said that it didn't matter at all, but it's still a little shocking to see a pharmacist go home to a dirt floor with chickens running around the house. Despite the conditions, the dwellers of these houses are very civilized and rediculously friendly. You don't find such rampant friendliness in the developed world. Everyone's too suspicious and busy watching out over their stuff and their image. putting myself in Iquitos showed me this side of myself. If someone starts talking to me, and it turns out that they have the most benign of intentions, I'm still suspicious, going over various situations of how the might just be tricking me into thinking that they're friendly to somehow take advantage of me. Sure, this sort of thing happens, but hardly ever. For the most part people here just like making friends.
Nobody has computors of cameras or anyhing like that, so there's hardly any family photos. It's weird thinking that people don't have their baby pictures, but then it doesn't seem like there's so much resistance to time here. Anyway, Ceci hasn't been to Iquitos to see her family in 3 years and hasn't even met her nephew, so I told the family that I'd photograph them so that she could see everyone. They took it all pretty seriously, washing, putting on nicer clothes than normal, etc. The mom made sure that I waited around to take pictures of her son that was at work and then come back to take pictures of her husband. Her husband showed up much later. I guess he works as a guard somewhere because he showed up with military boots and pants and a shirt with some kind of government logo (all well-worn and dirty). Despite his serious demeanor, he made me feel welcome. When he talked it almost seemed like he was showing off his grey teeth which were completely outlined in gold. A lot of people have that here. I guess it keeps cavities out while looking totally badass. He asked me my name and said that his brother's name is also Augusto. Then, he told me his name is "Segundo. Segundo Pacaya." No doubt one of the most badass names I've heard, but his saying it made it that much more so. When he got there, it was almost night, so we went outside where there was some more light. A big crowd of neighbors came out and stood around watching the couple get their picture taken. I printed out some of the better ones to give them.
I was only there 6 days, but made some good friends that I will stay in touch with. Ceci's family invited me to stay with them when I come back, but I can't even imagine where all of them sleep when night falls on that little house.
I never did end up doing much out-doorsey jungle stuff... but whatever. leave that to the foreigners who come all the way down here to keep themselves as separate as possible from the people who live here.
There are more photos up on my photobucket. The address is in a past blog entry.
Tonight at 2:30am it's back to Santiago. I was going to go by bus, but then Ursula couldn't for some reason. Also, I'm barely free of this infirmity and it'd be a terrible idea to start some giant odyssey in this condition. I will live in a cool house with some mexican friends.
hope all is well in california.
Iquitos totally blew me away. I'd never had a romantic moment ruined by a cloud of giant jungle mosquitos before Iquitos. The diet there is pretty much river fish, bananas, rice, fruit i've never heard of, chicken, and grubs. Big ol' gnarly white grubs with red heads. they put three of a stick and grill them like shishkabob. To avoid hipocracy, I must try all food, so of course i had a couple sticks of grubs. They were good, too! crunchy on the outside, creamy and sort of greasy on the inside... the heads were a little hard, though. There's barely any beef. People fry stuff, but mostly everything is grilled. Ceci's family cooked lunch for me. They have no stove or anything like that. the only appliances are the TV and stereo. they put bricks on the dirt floor, light charcoal between them and cook everything on a grate over this. Someone asked me if I liked to go camping. These people's lifestyle was camping as far as any 1st worlder is concerned.
Despite the humble lifestyle of the Iquitos folk, you couldn't ask for more decent, generous, friendly people. When someone is going to go out, they go into some curtained-off area of the house which appears to have a bucket of water and they come out perfectly groomed, wearing ironed clothes and makeup and smelling very pleasant. I wish the gringos in the hostel could accomplish the same with a conventional bathroom.
When one meets a family there, it's hard at first to know how everyone is related, who's kid is who's etc... These relations, however, don't seem to be such a big deal as they'd be in my own culture however. If the cousins have always slept in the same tiny house togehter, they're practically brothers. Personal space and property are not nearly as rigid. Neighbor kids would often come wandering through the house or looking in the windows whe I was visiting there. This communality especially applies to babies, though. Here you really do see a village raising a child. A few times now I've had people I hardly know thrust babies into my arms if they need free hands for a moment.
The flow of life is much more natural there. Having babies doesn't seem to be seen as a catastrophic earth-shattering existance alterer as it is in the US. People aren't as judgemental about your education or family, nor are they as self-concious. I was going over to a friend's house for the first time and she sort of made a quick disclaimer en route that her family's house was simple and not to expect much. Of course I said that it didn't matter at all, but it's still a little shocking to see a pharmacist go home to a dirt floor with chickens running around the house. Despite the conditions, the dwellers of these houses are very civilized and rediculously friendly. You don't find such rampant friendliness in the developed world. Everyone's too suspicious and busy watching out over their stuff and their image. putting myself in Iquitos showed me this side of myself. If someone starts talking to me, and it turns out that they have the most benign of intentions, I'm still suspicious, going over various situations of how the might just be tricking me into thinking that they're friendly to somehow take advantage of me. Sure, this sort of thing happens, but hardly ever. For the most part people here just like making friends.
Nobody has computors of cameras or anyhing like that, so there's hardly any family photos. It's weird thinking that people don't have their baby pictures, but then it doesn't seem like there's so much resistance to time here. Anyway, Ceci hasn't been to Iquitos to see her family in 3 years and hasn't even met her nephew, so I told the family that I'd photograph them so that she could see everyone. They took it all pretty seriously, washing, putting on nicer clothes than normal, etc. The mom made sure that I waited around to take pictures of her son that was at work and then come back to take pictures of her husband. Her husband showed up much later. I guess he works as a guard somewhere because he showed up with military boots and pants and a shirt with some kind of government logo (all well-worn and dirty). Despite his serious demeanor, he made me feel welcome. When he talked it almost seemed like he was showing off his grey teeth which were completely outlined in gold. A lot of people have that here. I guess it keeps cavities out while looking totally badass. He asked me my name and said that his brother's name is also Augusto. Then, he told me his name is "Segundo. Segundo Pacaya." No doubt one of the most badass names I've heard, but his saying it made it that much more so. When he got there, it was almost night, so we went outside where there was some more light. A big crowd of neighbors came out and stood around watching the couple get their picture taken. I printed out some of the better ones to give them.
I was only there 6 days, but made some good friends that I will stay in touch with. Ceci's family invited me to stay with them when I come back, but I can't even imagine where all of them sleep when night falls on that little house.
I never did end up doing much out-doorsey jungle stuff... but whatever. leave that to the foreigners who come all the way down here to keep themselves as separate as possible from the people who live here.
There are more photos up on my photobucket. The address is in a past blog entry.
Tonight at 2:30am it's back to Santiago. I was going to go by bus, but then Ursula couldn't for some reason. Also, I'm barely free of this infirmity and it'd be a terrible idea to start some giant odyssey in this condition. I will live in a cool house with some mexican friends.
hope all is well in california.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
I arrived here in Iquitos last night. I wanted to come by land, but it would have been a 24-hour bus ride followed by four days of boating down the amazon... had i a lot more time this option could have been fun, but then again it could have just been hell. I may like adventure, but I´m no Henry Morton Stanley. besides, i already have lots of bussing ahead what with the trip back to santiago. Lan had a promotion on a round-trip ticket here and i found a place to stay for $6 a night, so i cleared out.
Iquitos, despite being a pretty big city, is not connected by highway to the rest of south america. It is isolated by jungle and rivers, so the only way to get here is by boat or plane. It is basically an island, surrounded by huge rivers, including the amazon. There are hardly any cars here, seeing as they are hard to bring in. the transportation consists of motorcycles and motorcyles convirted into three-wheeled sketchy taxis. Everything is super cheap. yesterday I had a quarter roast chicken, mountain of rice, fried plantains, salad, and this weird purple corn drink that they make all for under $3. They make all sorts of different hot sauces here, most of which are super good.
Edith's maid's niece, Ceci, who comes over most days, was born in Iquitos and most all her family is here. She gave me their address and some photos of her graduation to give to them. This morning I took the photo album, got in/on a moto taxi and told him the address. We ended up going well outside the center of the city and towards the river banks where the buildings are wooden with thatched roofs and constructed on stilts for the flood season. close to there, in a little funky brick house with a dirt floor, I found Ceci's sister-in law and her son of 4 months. Everyone else was out. She took me to see Ceci's mom, who sells fish. They were very happy to meet me and recieve the photos, and invited me to come over later. When I came back there was lots of family- more than I could imagine all living in that little house. Her borther has a motorcycle and gave me a tour of the area. We were eating some barbecued cow hearts by the docks and met one of his friends who has a boat and offered to take me, for a small price, on a river trip to see some wildlife, including this type of pink river dolfin that everyone here talks about (there's even a statue of one in the city). The whole family made me very welcome and invited to me come back. I'll take some pictures for Ceci, seeing as she barely ever gets to come visit, and hasn't even met her little nefew.
The place I'm staying is all anglophones with nylon zip-off pants, bandanas and tank-tops. I must have been absent the day when all of the backpackers recieved their uniforms. Pretty much everyone I talked to there has tried or is planning to try this hallucinogenic herb that grows here. I'm sorry, but if some guy calling himself a shaman is selling drugs to whatever foreign stranger desperate for an authentic jungle experience, he's no shaman... he's just a native dude looking to make a buck. This one girl from ashland said that, while her borther 'kind of saw something,' the only effect she reaped was waking up in the middle of the night and, in a hurry to get out of her tent and vomit, tripped and got a gnarly black eye. I think the jungle is far-out enough without the help of mind and stomach-altering herbs, thanks anyway.
Iquitos, despite being a pretty big city, is not connected by highway to the rest of south america. It is isolated by jungle and rivers, so the only way to get here is by boat or plane. It is basically an island, surrounded by huge rivers, including the amazon. There are hardly any cars here, seeing as they are hard to bring in. the transportation consists of motorcycles and motorcyles convirted into three-wheeled sketchy taxis. Everything is super cheap. yesterday I had a quarter roast chicken, mountain of rice, fried plantains, salad, and this weird purple corn drink that they make all for under $3. They make all sorts of different hot sauces here, most of which are super good.
Edith's maid's niece, Ceci, who comes over most days, was born in Iquitos and most all her family is here. She gave me their address and some photos of her graduation to give to them. This morning I took the photo album, got in/on a moto taxi and told him the address. We ended up going well outside the center of the city and towards the river banks where the buildings are wooden with thatched roofs and constructed on stilts for the flood season. close to there, in a little funky brick house with a dirt floor, I found Ceci's sister-in law and her son of 4 months. Everyone else was out. She took me to see Ceci's mom, who sells fish. They were very happy to meet me and recieve the photos, and invited me to come over later. When I came back there was lots of family- more than I could imagine all living in that little house. Her borther has a motorcycle and gave me a tour of the area. We were eating some barbecued cow hearts by the docks and met one of his friends who has a boat and offered to take me, for a small price, on a river trip to see some wildlife, including this type of pink river dolfin that everyone here talks about (there's even a statue of one in the city). The whole family made me very welcome and invited to me come back. I'll take some pictures for Ceci, seeing as she barely ever gets to come visit, and hasn't even met her little nefew.
The place I'm staying is all anglophones with nylon zip-off pants, bandanas and tank-tops. I must have been absent the day when all of the backpackers recieved their uniforms. Pretty much everyone I talked to there has tried or is planning to try this hallucinogenic herb that grows here. I'm sorry, but if some guy calling himself a shaman is selling drugs to whatever foreign stranger desperate for an authentic jungle experience, he's no shaman... he's just a native dude looking to make a buck. This one girl from ashland said that, while her borther 'kind of saw something,' the only effect she reaped was waking up in the middle of the night and, in a hurry to get out of her tent and vomit, tripped and got a gnarly black eye. I think the jungle is far-out enough without the help of mind and stomach-altering herbs, thanks anyway.
Monday, February 11, 2008
After almost four years, I am once again in the City of Kings (Lima). It's good to see the folks that I know here. Though I never forgot how dirty, funky and empoverished the city is, it still shocks me. I went to the beach with Sara and some of her friends. Along the way we passed miles of crazy little shacks built directly onto dust dunes... maybe they're technically sand dunes, but there's a thik layer of dust all over everything everywhere. I can't imagine how these people live. There didn't appear to be any signs of plumbing or electricity, or even a decent pathway to ascend the giant dunes to one's home. It seems that there's no natural vegetation anywhere in the region. any place where people haven't planted grass or shrubs is just barren grey dust. This includes all the mountains surrounding the city, too. Every surface in the city is coated with a mix of naturally occuring dust and soot from all the cars, which have no sort of fume regulations. Almost anyone you see in the street is filthy, with exceptions for people who work in offices.
Today I took a walk after lunch to go see some ruins that I had noticed earlier a few blocks from the house (this place is covered in pre-colombian ruins). Some guy watering the flowers said that I couldn't get inside the fence because they weren't done with the excavation. I still got to check them out from a few meters away, though. A sign said that they were from around 1200 A.D. It's cool to see what folks were building here during the same era as notre dame in europe. Afterwords I started walking down an avenue that kept getting increasingly shady and industrial until it ended with wherehouses and little bars filled with filthy drunken people in terrible physical condition. The neighborhood was dominated by a big dusty hill covered in miserable dwellings with seemingly no access. I was already getting sketched out by being so notable as a tall, blonde white guy. People get all silent as a walk by. One crazy old drunkard stumbled out and tried to say something in english to me. As soon as I made the mistake of acknowledging him, a crowd started forming. Some people wanted to know if I was a journalist because they couldn't imagine what else I'd possibly be doing there. The bartender, after offering to introduce me to her daughter, pointed to the nearest direct street out of there and said that I should leave before I was assaulted. I quickly took her advice.
I met up with Ursala, who is from Lima and here visitng her dad. We went out with a couple of her friends in the little town in which she grew up outside of Lima. She and I will return to Santiago together via Bus. We are planning on it taking a little over a week.
A couple days ago I went to a birthday party of one of Edith's friends. True to the latin party spirit, after about an hour of polite conversation they all got up and tarted dancing to reggaeton, cumbia, merengue and salsa. An old lady there was telling me that I needed to practice dancing in order to meet lots of women. After talking with her a while I learned that she was born in the jungle region of peru in 1915. I said that I couldn't imagine how life must have been in the peruvian jungle early in the 20th century. Without thinking about it, she replied that it was 'comfortable.' She elaborated that the quality of life was better- especially the food.
Tomorrow I will go see the jungle for myself. I wanted to go by land, but a girl who's from the city that I want to go to, Iquique, said that it takes 5 or 6 days to get there, considering that one must go a lot of the way in boat. I found a cheap flight and a hostel that costs $5 a night. I have malaria pills and have been vaccinated for yellow fever, so I ought to be ok.
Today I took a walk after lunch to go see some ruins that I had noticed earlier a few blocks from the house (this place is covered in pre-colombian ruins). Some guy watering the flowers said that I couldn't get inside the fence because they weren't done with the excavation. I still got to check them out from a few meters away, though. A sign said that they were from around 1200 A.D. It's cool to see what folks were building here during the same era as notre dame in europe. Afterwords I started walking down an avenue that kept getting increasingly shady and industrial until it ended with wherehouses and little bars filled with filthy drunken people in terrible physical condition. The neighborhood was dominated by a big dusty hill covered in miserable dwellings with seemingly no access. I was already getting sketched out by being so notable as a tall, blonde white guy. People get all silent as a walk by. One crazy old drunkard stumbled out and tried to say something in english to me. As soon as I made the mistake of acknowledging him, a crowd started forming. Some people wanted to know if I was a journalist because they couldn't imagine what else I'd possibly be doing there. The bartender, after offering to introduce me to her daughter, pointed to the nearest direct street out of there and said that I should leave before I was assaulted. I quickly took her advice.
I met up with Ursala, who is from Lima and here visitng her dad. We went out with a couple of her friends in the little town in which she grew up outside of Lima. She and I will return to Santiago together via Bus. We are planning on it taking a little over a week.
A couple days ago I went to a birthday party of one of Edith's friends. True to the latin party spirit, after about an hour of polite conversation they all got up and tarted dancing to reggaeton, cumbia, merengue and salsa. An old lady there was telling me that I needed to practice dancing in order to meet lots of women. After talking with her a while I learned that she was born in the jungle region of peru in 1915. I said that I couldn't imagine how life must have been in the peruvian jungle early in the 20th century. Without thinking about it, she replied that it was 'comfortable.' She elaborated that the quality of life was better- especially the food.
Tomorrow I will go see the jungle for myself. I wanted to go by land, but a girl who's from the city that I want to go to, Iquique, said that it takes 5 or 6 days to get there, considering that one must go a lot of the way in boat. I found a cheap flight and a hostel that costs $5 a night. I have malaria pills and have been vaccinated for yellow fever, so I ought to be ok.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
I put up a few new mixed photos of Brazil and Colombia. Come and see for yourself at:
http://s200.photobucket.com/albums/aa10/gusinchile/
http://s200.photobucket.com/albums/aa10/gusinchile/
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Pirenopolis was fun. the crazy guys i was staying with took me all around in their 1970 volkswagon beetle, whose only mode of ignition was pushing, as its key had been lost of broken years before and its hot-wire cables relied on a battery that really didn't have the umph. nonetheless, once started, the car went anywhere. they took me to a swimming spot that required driving on roads through hills in the wilderness that didn't look fit for anything but a horse; yet that car only required our getting out and pushing once. I had the honor of driving it around at night on the colonial-era stone roads while its owner laughed and yelled 'é um tank de guerra, velho! te falei!'
today Mare and i met up with her friend who took us through a favela. she works as a nurse in a small hospital there and knows people inside, so we were ok to go in. i guess it was about what i expected of a brazilian favela. i got my hair cut there. afterwords they took me to meet Mare's great-grandmother who will complete 100 years in June. she was one of the coolest people i've met. she was much more awake and sharp than a lot of young people i know, telling stories, asking after members of her family, and telling me about her past. she came over from italy when she was 16 to work on a farm, got married at 17 and had her first baby when she was 18. On this trip I've gotten to meet a lot of interesting people inhabiting very different realities.
I went with Mare to her church last night... not catholic, however. I guess there's a large evangelical population here, despite brazil being the largest catholic country in the world. it was a new experience for me. the women and men enter at different doors and sit on different sides of the church, and the women must wear white veils on their heads. in the front, some men bring in instruments to play along with the hymns... i hate to be a music snob, but it was pretty out of hand. sometimes you cold pick up a melody. the service had a pretty tight program to stick to, but the parts were very interesting to see. one part, in which everyone was to pray aloud for about 15 minutes, was dominated by this guy sitting infront of me who started shouting praise to the lord and kept going for a much longer time than i thought possible, considering that it seemed like improv. finally old ladies started to stand up to see who it was. when he finally made a pause everyone shouted amen at once and the minister quickly continued to the next part of the program which was a finger-wagging/waving/pointing preacher. and the end the orchestra, comprised of a few saxophones, violins, valve trombone, and euphonium got another chance to play through all their rests.
são paulo is the largest of any city i've ever been to. one drives for miles and is still in the middle of skyscrapers as far as the eye can see. if i'm not mistaken, it's the third largest city in the americas behind mexico's federal district and new york city. I'm glad that I came back here, because there's a lot of culture to see, and Mare's family and friends are super nice.
today Mare and i met up with her friend who took us through a favela. she works as a nurse in a small hospital there and knows people inside, so we were ok to go in. i guess it was about what i expected of a brazilian favela. i got my hair cut there. afterwords they took me to meet Mare's great-grandmother who will complete 100 years in June. she was one of the coolest people i've met. she was much more awake and sharp than a lot of young people i know, telling stories, asking after members of her family, and telling me about her past. she came over from italy when she was 16 to work on a farm, got married at 17 and had her first baby when she was 18. On this trip I've gotten to meet a lot of interesting people inhabiting very different realities.
I went with Mare to her church last night... not catholic, however. I guess there's a large evangelical population here, despite brazil being the largest catholic country in the world. it was a new experience for me. the women and men enter at different doors and sit on different sides of the church, and the women must wear white veils on their heads. in the front, some men bring in instruments to play along with the hymns... i hate to be a music snob, but it was pretty out of hand. sometimes you cold pick up a melody. the service had a pretty tight program to stick to, but the parts were very interesting to see. one part, in which everyone was to pray aloud for about 15 minutes, was dominated by this guy sitting infront of me who started shouting praise to the lord and kept going for a much longer time than i thought possible, considering that it seemed like improv. finally old ladies started to stand up to see who it was. when he finally made a pause everyone shouted amen at once and the minister quickly continued to the next part of the program which was a finger-wagging/waving/pointing preacher. and the end the orchestra, comprised of a few saxophones, violins, valve trombone, and euphonium got another chance to play through all their rests.
são paulo is the largest of any city i've ever been to. one drives for miles and is still in the middle of skyscrapers as far as the eye can see. if i'm not mistaken, it's the third largest city in the americas behind mexico's federal district and new york city. I'm glad that I came back here, because there's a lot of culture to see, and Mare's family and friends are super nice.
Friday, January 25, 2008
I left Brasilia and arrived here in Pirenópolis after a 3 hour bus ride. I sort of wished the ride was longer because i was enjoying the landscape. It's a pretty little town built in the 1700's (by lots of poorly-treated slaves) during a gold rush here in the state of Goiás. Despite having spent a month in Brazil, I've only been in large cities, so it's nice to have a few rural days before going back to São Paulo. At my hostel the lady tried to get me to take a private room instead of the comunal one. I was looking forward to meeting some other people (and saving some $) so i turned her down... only to realize that I was the only one at the hostel, so it really made no difference. Fortunately she has two crazy sons who i've been hanging out with. There's hardly any tourists here right now because of a yellow fever outbreak in the area that's been all over the news in recent weeks. Not too many people have died, but it's enough to scare away lots of people. I've had my vaccination, so I'm not at risk... and malaria is only up north in the amazon region.
Brazilians love waterfalls... well, who doesn't like waterfalls, really? but no, they're all about waterfalls here. Any place you go to, they want you to see waterfalls. all the turist places all filthy with posters of waterfalls. the first thing they tell you about is their abundancy of waterfalls (after asking you if you've been vaccinated for yellow fever). i guess i'll take a hike later and see a few.
Brazilians love waterfalls... well, who doesn't like waterfalls, really? but no, they're all about waterfalls here. Any place you go to, they want you to see waterfalls. all the turist places all filthy with posters of waterfalls. the first thing they tell you about is their abundancy of waterfalls (after asking you if you've been vaccinated for yellow fever). i guess i'll take a hike later and see a few.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Said goodbye to chelsea yesterday at the bus terminal in são paulo. shes going to the northeast, so it wasn't really worth my while to go back to rio for two days. the bus took a full three hours to finally get onto the highway out of sao paulo. i guess that's to be expected in the third largest metropolitan region in the americas at rush hour. all told it took about 16 hours to get the the terminal in brasilia. despite the crying baby, foul bathroom an lack of air conditioning, the trip really wasn't that bad. i had a good book and even slept some. luiza said that the family car was occupied, so i' have to take a taxi to her house. i tried asking the smelly, but seemingly friendly old man next to me how much a taxi should cost to luiza's neighborhood, but we could barely understand eachother and gave up. i'm always wary of taxi drivers, so when i finally got to brasilia i asked a guy in the terminal if there was a bus that woul take me where i needed to go. it turned out he was a classical guitarist picking up a peruvian pianist an they were going to the same part of the city as i, so they offered to take me. his car had taken a beating- according to him it was the result of some sort of jealous girlfriend sitatuation. i was thankful for the ride, so i didn't mind brushing some broken glass off the seat. on the way we stopped at his work to pick something up, and he took me inside to meet his co workers. i guess he does autopsies for the police or something because there were a couple pretty grisley looking corpses laying around on operating beds inside that showed signs of untimely death... kind of startling early in the morning, but, once again, i was thankful for the ride.
luiza and her distractlingly beautiful friend showed me around brasilia today. it's one of the wildest looking cities i've seen. i guess back in the 50's they planned the whole thing out an just constructed it in the center of the country where there was nothing but wilderness. i'd seen pictures of some of the architecture before, but seeing it in person is really impressive. it's like a 50's idealised futuristic city in marble... but outside of the center it's just apartment buildings on roads with letters and numbers instead of names.
in a few days we'll go to ouro preto to celebrate carnaval. supposedly it's one of the best carnivals in brazil. the city looks pretty cool in photos... colonial and everything.
são paulo was really fun. chelsea's friends are complete badasses. the dialect down there was really clear. i had no problem conversing. here, however, it's back to not being able to unerstand a damn thing anyone's saying. it's frusterating, but i guess this is how one learns languages...
florianopolis was incredible as well. we met up with some locals and had wild times.
hope all is well in the US. i've barely gotten homesick my whole time away, but there's times when it sinks in... like last night the bus stopped at a rest area and while i was walking around i had a lonley moment when i considered that i was alone at 4 in the morning somewhere in the interior of brazil... but generally my time on the roa in south america has been one of the most amazing experiences of my life. i've found myself in countless amazing situations... lamentably, they don't en up on the blog, but rest assured that they're happening.
luiza and her distractlingly beautiful friend showed me around brasilia today. it's one of the wildest looking cities i've seen. i guess back in the 50's they planned the whole thing out an just constructed it in the center of the country where there was nothing but wilderness. i'd seen pictures of some of the architecture before, but seeing it in person is really impressive. it's like a 50's idealised futuristic city in marble... but outside of the center it's just apartment buildings on roads with letters and numbers instead of names.
in a few days we'll go to ouro preto to celebrate carnaval. supposedly it's one of the best carnivals in brazil. the city looks pretty cool in photos... colonial and everything.
são paulo was really fun. chelsea's friends are complete badasses. the dialect down there was really clear. i had no problem conversing. here, however, it's back to not being able to unerstand a damn thing anyone's saying. it's frusterating, but i guess this is how one learns languages...
florianopolis was incredible as well. we met up with some locals and had wild times.
hope all is well in the US. i've barely gotten homesick my whole time away, but there's times when it sinks in... like last night the bus stopped at a rest area and while i was walking around i had a lonley moment when i considered that i was alone at 4 in the morning somewhere in the interior of brazil... but generally my time on the roa in south america has been one of the most amazing experiences of my life. i've found myself in countless amazing situations... lamentably, they don't en up on the blog, but rest assured that they're happening.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
my last few days in santiago were fun... i had a barbeque with a bunch of friends. and then went to jose luis's house. he's a composition major from mexico city. he showed me some of the stuff he's working on- super cool. I now have many invitations in the mexico city aread with food and tour guides.
I think juan and i leave medellin for girardot on sunday and from there go to bogota. colombia has been amazing. every time i'm in a car or bus i want to videotape out the window the whole time because it's such a trip seeing the quotidian goings-on.
We eat lots of meat all the time here... and everyone takes lots of showers... i can't convince juan that one shower a day and sometimes not changing pants is ok... he's trying to convert me to his latin ways. wearing cologne and tighter pants, maybe... but i draw the line at going to the 'hairdresser' and getting a pedicure. i'm still an hombre estadounidense!
I think juan and i leave medellin for girardot on sunday and from there go to bogota. colombia has been amazing. every time i'm in a car or bus i want to videotape out the window the whole time because it's such a trip seeing the quotidian goings-on.
We eat lots of meat all the time here... and everyone takes lots of showers... i can't convince juan that one shower a day and sometimes not changing pants is ok... he's trying to convert me to his latin ways. wearing cologne and tighter pants, maybe... but i draw the line at going to the 'hairdresser' and getting a pedicure. i'm still an hombre estadounidense!
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
I'm here in Medellin Colombia staying with Juan, who is a very good guide. Today we went with his mom to her work, which i think involves being the go-between for a big underwear company and people in super poor neighborhoods who sell it's products. it was amazing to see the neighborhood and meet some of the people there... i'll have to post photos and video of it, because it's hard to describe my impression of it. hm... i was excited to get back and write about my experience, but now i can't think of how to put it. I always like to think that i know about low standards of living in far-away countries and have a pretty accurate impression of it all, but every time i actually go to see this sort of thing first-hand it never ceases to leave a giant impression on me. A girl was walking me around her neighborhood while juan's mom was meeting with the girl's mom. I commented that there were a lot of huge vultures and she mentioned that a few years ago when there was a lot of gang violence there they'd come and eat the bodies of the murdered people left in the bushes. I was obviously shocked not only from this charming little anecdote, but also that it came so banally from a 15 year old. She also pointed at a ruined little shack directly behind us and said that the guy living there was tortured by a gang who then killed him and destroyed his house. Juan's mom's friend commented that all people from their class in medellin have had to witness a lot of heinous violence of this nature. She offhandedly mentioned some girl's body turning up in a bag by her house. Later, between chatting about today's soccer game, she told me about how her dad narrowly escaped being murdered by guerillas that killed her uncle and grandfather and how, when they first moved to medellin, her brother was murdered for refusing the join the neighborhood gang, who were later killed by police during a bank robbery. She said that she had almost met pablo escobar once because he was giving away houses to many empoverished people in the city. Juan's friend was telling me about how guerillas were trying to take her part of the city a few years back and helicopters came in the fight them... but she added that it wasn't really in her neighborhood, so it wasn't so bad.
During a few years in the late 80s early 90s, pablo escobar payed a huge sum to anyone who killed a police officer, and more money depending on his rank. For this reason, Juan's uncle, who has served many years as a high ranking officer, had to grow out his beard and go into hiding.
Right now the FARC is big in the news because one of their hostages, a lady who was kidnapped around 6 years ago during her presidential cadidacy, just turned in a video looking miserable, but alive in the jungle. Juan's cousin in Bogota told me that they have around 1,000 hostages out in the jungle. I was sort of surprised that the large figure, so he tried to reassure me, saying that, in comparison to colombia's population of 40 million, a thousand really isn't too many. I declined from replying that it's scary somebody would even consider the hostage population comparable to the entire population.
Everyone i talked to agreed that the new president, uribe, has been really hard on the guerillas and for this reason, it's possible for us to even enter neighborhoods like the one i visited today. Also, crime is supposedly down thanks to La Mano Negra, a sort of unofficial police force that kills criminals.
Nevertheless, the activites of the FARC and the reign of escobar don't hold a candle to the 'period of violence' of the 1940's and 50's, involving the right and left wing political parties having and all-out show-down. According to Juan's mom, there were so many dead that police would cut off the cadaver's heads and line them up in the park so friend's and family could come and see if their loved ones had turned up.
The city seems pretty safe now... i'm still cautious and everything, but everyone is super friendly and happy to meet me. They treat foreigners really well. Whereas in chile i'm sort of a rejected outsider, here it's not such a big deal that i'm from another country... sometimes people act sort of honored to meet me, which is weird... but generally i'm just treated like a family friend, rather than some sort of bizarre space alien.
Juan is a super good host. the first night i was here he took me out to a club and his girlfriend brought a friend to dance with me. Juan lends/forces upon me his clothes so that i conform to the latin style. He makes sure that i get to know the whole city... i've now hung out with various people from the social extremes.
I will write more later, but a friend's aunt just opened a restaurant and we're going to it's grand opening. hope all is well
During a few years in the late 80s early 90s, pablo escobar payed a huge sum to anyone who killed a police officer, and more money depending on his rank. For this reason, Juan's uncle, who has served many years as a high ranking officer, had to grow out his beard and go into hiding.
Right now the FARC is big in the news because one of their hostages, a lady who was kidnapped around 6 years ago during her presidential cadidacy, just turned in a video looking miserable, but alive in the jungle. Juan's cousin in Bogota told me that they have around 1,000 hostages out in the jungle. I was sort of surprised that the large figure, so he tried to reassure me, saying that, in comparison to colombia's population of 40 million, a thousand really isn't too many. I declined from replying that it's scary somebody would even consider the hostage population comparable to the entire population.
Everyone i talked to agreed that the new president, uribe, has been really hard on the guerillas and for this reason, it's possible for us to even enter neighborhoods like the one i visited today. Also, crime is supposedly down thanks to La Mano Negra, a sort of unofficial police force that kills criminals.
Nevertheless, the activites of the FARC and the reign of escobar don't hold a candle to the 'period of violence' of the 1940's and 50's, involving the right and left wing political parties having and all-out show-down. According to Juan's mom, there were so many dead that police would cut off the cadaver's heads and line them up in the park so friend's and family could come and see if their loved ones had turned up.
The city seems pretty safe now... i'm still cautious and everything, but everyone is super friendly and happy to meet me. They treat foreigners really well. Whereas in chile i'm sort of a rejected outsider, here it's not such a big deal that i'm from another country... sometimes people act sort of honored to meet me, which is weird... but generally i'm just treated like a family friend, rather than some sort of bizarre space alien.
Juan is a super good host. the first night i was here he took me out to a club and his girlfriend brought a friend to dance with me. Juan lends/forces upon me his clothes so that i conform to the latin style. He makes sure that i get to know the whole city... i've now hung out with various people from the social extremes.
I will write more later, but a friend's aunt just opened a restaurant and we're going to it's grand opening. hope all is well
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
i'm making travel plans and trying to learn as much portuguese as i can before i go to brazil. i was originally going to bus around a lot, but now i'm planning on just going to a few places in order to know each better... so my tentative plan is as follows: give notice to my landlord that i'll be out at the end of november, leave my stuff in hannah's room (she's keeping it and paying rent for the months she's not there), staying on my professor's futon because i have my bassoon final on december 5th (talk about pressure to practice at home...). fly on the 6th of december to salvador de bahia and kick it there for a week and a half with some friends of a friend (who i'm going salsa dancing with tonight!), then bus down to rio to meet up with chelsea. i hope to stay and travel with her and her friends until around the 20th of january at which point i'll fly to medellin to see juan. he promised to take me to the caribbean coast and possibly to ecuador. i plan to stay in colombia for two or three weeks and then go down to Lima to see the family i stayed with and visit a couple new friends... hopefully do some touristy peru stuff outside of the city, too. Ursula and I will meet up there (she's from lima, so she has family there) and search online for apartments before starting our bus trip back to santiago. en route we're planning on going to arequipa, san pedro de atacama, and la valle de la luna.
in the meantime i've started practicing portuguese somewhat regularly with a couple friends and working in a textbook.
today i had rehearsal with my accompanist and it was the first time that i felt i had played the piece worth a damn... he said so too. i'm going to make some reeds this week to start getting prepaired for juries.
i like chile more as i understand it's humor better. some books, articles and movies i've seen have helped me through my brief period of angst toward the country.
i've got a beard/moustache grown in... i'm going to leave it until the end of the month to complete the fidel castro costume for halloween. I was considering just leaving the moustache, getting the right glasses and suit and being Allende. Liz then suggested getting darker glasses and a military suit and being pinoche, but i think i'll pass on both of those options and roll with the further-from-home politician so as not to offend.
in the meantime i've started practicing portuguese somewhat regularly with a couple friends and working in a textbook.
today i had rehearsal with my accompanist and it was the first time that i felt i had played the piece worth a damn... he said so too. i'm going to make some reeds this week to start getting prepaired for juries.
i like chile more as i understand it's humor better. some books, articles and movies i've seen have helped me through my brief period of angst toward the country.
i've got a beard/moustache grown in... i'm going to leave it until the end of the month to complete the fidel castro costume for halloween. I was considering just leaving the moustache, getting the right glasses and suit and being Allende. Liz then suggested getting darker glasses and a military suit and being pinoche, but i think i'll pass on both of those options and roll with the further-from-home politician so as not to offend.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Last night I was trying to get an essay done and not planning on going at out all when, de repente,three dudes, two of whom i vaguely knew, showed up at the door looking for my roomate, hanna. We all got to talking about our various experiences living in chile and comparing it to our own countries (they're from peru, brazil and spain). We all decided that foreigners were given a much warmer welcome and inegrated much quicker in our countries than in chile. Hanna stayed at home, but we all went out hoping to find food, despite it being late sunday. We went to a colombian restaurant that was packed with colombians dancing to a live merengue band. We nonetheless managed to find a table in the corner and hung out until a bona-fide bar-brawl over some skanky looking girl broke the place up. outside we met up with a friend of a friend of a friend of mine and we all went to hang out at suecia, a street in my neighborhood boasting the most 'fleite' (sketchy, dodgey) clubs and bars in central santiago. the brazilian guy and the spanish guy were quickly lured away by some uber-fleite guys describing some seedy club, but sebastian (distant connection), henry (peruvian) and i hung out. We all talked about how our friends should have been more careful about getting in a taxi with sketchy dudes promising a seedy club and how one generally has to be careful in cities. This led to sebastian dogging on the peruvians in santiago, basically calling them a bunch of thieves and the base of santiagan crime. Henry and I both just bit our lip and until he changed the subject and left. Peru and Chile have a huge rivalry going back to the war of the pacific and continue to insult each other's countries in social situations. After he left, Henry and I ended up hanging out there until 4 in the morning talking about history and politics of the americas in which he's super well-versed. I was telling him that, initially, the US had supported Hussein told him about the picture of Rumsfeld shaking hands with saddam. I was sort of embarrassed that he knew who rumsfeld was, seeing as i barely know anything about the peruvian government. When he asked what we thought of Fujimori in the US, i was also rather ashamed to tell him that, largely, we thought nothing at all of him, seeing as hardly anyone would even know who he is.
I think one of the best aspects of studying here is meeting so many people from other countries and talking about their history and their country's situations. Reading piles of articles and statistics about a country will never hold a candle to spending hours talking to one of its inhabitants. Also, hanging out with Henry made me realize the responsibility i have while traveling abroad to represent my country. Whether i try to or not, i'm forming impressions about many different countries based on their citizens that i meet here. So far I have zero interest in ever going germany, whereas i'm already convinced i want to go live in peru and mexico forever. Hanging out with my peruvian and mexican friends is completely different than hanging out with germans, chileans or gringos. The former group goes out of their way to make you feel included, welcome and appreciated. No gesture goes unnoticed.
Living in Chile i'm learning the disadvantages of living within an economic powerhouse. In the US i don't notice it as much because our system is so integrated in my consciousness, but here I notice how affluence has taken its tole on social norms. It's not uncommon here to ask someone how much money he spends in a month or what kind of car he drives. Chile doesn't have a strong sense of tradition or cultural pride, but what is notable is their economic standing in latin america. As a result, Chileans are money-obsessed -as if it were their main cultural trait. This which leads to strong classism. Chileans want to know where to place you in their concept of class hierarchy so that they know how to think about you. In contrast, people i know from other latin american countries will just enjoy a person for his personality. They don't care if you don't dress fashionably and don't spend lots of money going out.
i've been having a lot ideas lately about the attitude difference between chile and other nations, but it's already mid-afternoon and i have too much practicing and essay-writing ahead.
One final note while i'm thinking about it: I only know a couple spaniards, but i can't understand them nearly as well as south americans. i feel like my spanish is really good, but that, since i've only been exposed to latin american spanish, spanish spanish is one of the strangest dialects for me.
I think one of the best aspects of studying here is meeting so many people from other countries and talking about their history and their country's situations. Reading piles of articles and statistics about a country will never hold a candle to spending hours talking to one of its inhabitants. Also, hanging out with Henry made me realize the responsibility i have while traveling abroad to represent my country. Whether i try to or not, i'm forming impressions about many different countries based on their citizens that i meet here. So far I have zero interest in ever going germany, whereas i'm already convinced i want to go live in peru and mexico forever. Hanging out with my peruvian and mexican friends is completely different than hanging out with germans, chileans or gringos. The former group goes out of their way to make you feel included, welcome and appreciated. No gesture goes unnoticed.
Living in Chile i'm learning the disadvantages of living within an economic powerhouse. In the US i don't notice it as much because our system is so integrated in my consciousness, but here I notice how affluence has taken its tole on social norms. It's not uncommon here to ask someone how much money he spends in a month or what kind of car he drives. Chile doesn't have a strong sense of tradition or cultural pride, but what is notable is their economic standing in latin america. As a result, Chileans are money-obsessed -as if it were their main cultural trait. This which leads to strong classism. Chileans want to know where to place you in their concept of class hierarchy so that they know how to think about you. In contrast, people i know from other latin american countries will just enjoy a person for his personality. They don't care if you don't dress fashionably and don't spend lots of money going out.
i've been having a lot ideas lately about the attitude difference between chile and other nations, but it's already mid-afternoon and i have too much practicing and essay-writing ahead.
One final note while i'm thinking about it: I only know a couple spaniards, but i can't understand them nearly as well as south americans. i feel like my spanish is really good, but that, since i've only been exposed to latin american spanish, spanish spanish is one of the strangest dialects for me.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
I knew that spring would come around this time, but it's nonetheless caught me off guard. I guess one doesn't realize how in tune his body is with natural cycles until a cycle starts going backwards. All the trees along the streets have leaves suddenly and there's flowers and insects everywhere. the days are longer and a lot warmer. everyone's planning barbecues... but that's hardly a change. barbecues are super popular here.
i've started to get into chiean cinema. i've only seen five of their movies, but they were all totally kickass. ursula and i went out to see a new one last night called 'malta con huevo.' it was one of the most whacked-out and funniest movies i've seen... kind of reminded me of 'happiness'... another great opus of our times. there weren't any subtitles and i still got every joke even though it was chilean spanish (the worst spanish in the world). so my spanish must be improving. one of my professors said that my essay (on chilean cinema) was outstanding.
life without a computer is just fine. i stil have my external hard drive with all my essays, music and photos... i've been reading more.
i've started to get into chiean cinema. i've only seen five of their movies, but they were all totally kickass. ursula and i went out to see a new one last night called 'malta con huevo.' it was one of the most whacked-out and funniest movies i've seen... kind of reminded me of 'happiness'... another great opus of our times. there weren't any subtitles and i still got every joke even though it was chilean spanish (the worst spanish in the world). so my spanish must be improving. one of my professors said that my essay (on chilean cinema) was outstanding.
life without a computer is just fine. i stil have my external hard drive with all my essays, music and photos... i've been reading more.
Monday, October 1, 2007
I survived chilean fiestas patrias. we all went up to la serena and dined (almost exclusively) on barbeque and beer. aside from the two kilos of tangerines that i brought, we had basically no fresh produce among us. Well, there's stories to tell in the paragraph, but we've all heard party stories, so i'll leave it at that. on the trip i also went to coquimbo with ursula and roxanne and we got the whole caravan to go to valle elqui... check out the photos on my photobucket album. with the rest of the break i went with gabi and her family to valparaiso and vina del mar.
sunday morning i experienced my first semi-violent mugging. i got up early to do some homework and get a coffee. unfortunately, no coffee place was open- it's hard getting used to a country in which catholic traditions really are more sacred than morning coffee. there was one guy in the empty streets with a nescafe bicycle/kiosk, so i got a cup of coffee and sat down on a bench with my laptop in my lap... ok- i know what you all are saying: dude! don't walk around some giant latin city alone with a laptop, especially if you're tall and blonde! well, usually i'm really conscious about stuf like this, but it was early on a sunday morning in a 'nice' part of town and there was hardly anyone around. i noticed some kid whispering something to the coffee guy who was kind of nodding. that was a sketchy red flag, so i decided to finish up my coffee and clear out. just then this other kid appeared infront of me, snatched the computer and started running down the street. i ran after him and after a block and a half chased him down, grabbed my computer back, and started running back the other way. unfortunately, the first kid i'd seen jumped me and all three of us started wrestling and punching in the middle of the street. i had a box-cutter in my pocket, but my better judgement overrode my masculine pride, so i decided to leave the situation with no stab-wounds on either side. I walked back to the corner where the coffee guy was and called the cops, who promised they'd send someone out immediately to make a report. the coffee guy started saying that he was gonna leave, but i put my foot infront of his kiosk wheel and obliged him to stay and talk to the police. In the meantime a couple prostitutes came up and started advising me as to which black markets i should scope out to buy back my computer. then this guy in a suit drove up with an open bottle of wine between his legs and started talking to the prostitutes, who told him about my ordeal. he started trying to give me advice, also. seeing as i wasn't in the best of humor i mumbled some comment about how stupid he looked driving around in a suit with an open wine bottle on a sunday morning. he started to get all pissed off, pulling the 'what did you say?!' card, so i cleared out. as a general rule i don't deal with angry drunk pimps... especially not on sundays. whatever. in the words of the great Jamie Bentz, 'I'm over it.'
that all happened before 7:30 in the morning... all told i actually had a pretty good day. i went to a kick-ass art exhibition with gabby and her brazilian friend and went to dinner at LeAnna's house. While I was over at LeAnna's eating a great dinner with a bunch of friends i considered what those dirty street waifs might have been eating for dinner and where they might've been sleeping that night... with that perspective it's pretty hard to hold a grudge.
i went to a bassoon repair guy to check out a couple pads that weren't shutting all the way and an A flat that's been super low. it was crazy seeing all his different tools and methods. i liked the way he talked about the instrument as a living creature that responds to environment changes and decides to play better some days than others. we hung out in his studio for two hours going over all kinds of stuff and he didn't even charge me. i might take it back to replace the string with cork.
pardon my not writing much... stuff does happen down here. i just don't get around to documenting much of it.
sunday morning i experienced my first semi-violent mugging. i got up early to do some homework and get a coffee. unfortunately, no coffee place was open- it's hard getting used to a country in which catholic traditions really are more sacred than morning coffee. there was one guy in the empty streets with a nescafe bicycle/kiosk, so i got a cup of coffee and sat down on a bench with my laptop in my lap... ok- i know what you all are saying: dude! don't walk around some giant latin city alone with a laptop, especially if you're tall and blonde! well, usually i'm really conscious about stuf like this, but it was early on a sunday morning in a 'nice' part of town and there was hardly anyone around. i noticed some kid whispering something to the coffee guy who was kind of nodding. that was a sketchy red flag, so i decided to finish up my coffee and clear out. just then this other kid appeared infront of me, snatched the computer and started running down the street. i ran after him and after a block and a half chased him down, grabbed my computer back, and started running back the other way. unfortunately, the first kid i'd seen jumped me and all three of us started wrestling and punching in the middle of the street. i had a box-cutter in my pocket, but my better judgement overrode my masculine pride, so i decided to leave the situation with no stab-wounds on either side. I walked back to the corner where the coffee guy was and called the cops, who promised they'd send someone out immediately to make a report. the coffee guy started saying that he was gonna leave, but i put my foot infront of his kiosk wheel and obliged him to stay and talk to the police. In the meantime a couple prostitutes came up and started advising me as to which black markets i should scope out to buy back my computer. then this guy in a suit drove up with an open bottle of wine between his legs and started talking to the prostitutes, who told him about my ordeal. he started trying to give me advice, also. seeing as i wasn't in the best of humor i mumbled some comment about how stupid he looked driving around in a suit with an open wine bottle on a sunday morning. he started to get all pissed off, pulling the 'what did you say?!' card, so i cleared out. as a general rule i don't deal with angry drunk pimps... especially not on sundays. whatever. in the words of the great Jamie Bentz, 'I'm over it.'
that all happened before 7:30 in the morning... all told i actually had a pretty good day. i went to a kick-ass art exhibition with gabby and her brazilian friend and went to dinner at LeAnna's house. While I was over at LeAnna's eating a great dinner with a bunch of friends i considered what those dirty street waifs might have been eating for dinner and where they might've been sleeping that night... with that perspective it's pretty hard to hold a grudge.
i went to a bassoon repair guy to check out a couple pads that weren't shutting all the way and an A flat that's been super low. it was crazy seeing all his different tools and methods. i liked the way he talked about the instrument as a living creature that responds to environment changes and decides to play better some days than others. we hung out in his studio for two hours going over all kinds of stuff and he didn't even charge me. i might take it back to replace the string with cork.
pardon my not writing much... stuff does happen down here. i just don't get around to documenting much of it.
Monday, September 10, 2007
We got e-mails from the
I finally called up the financial aid office and the guy said that they’d print my check for the Presser award on Thursday and get it in the mail. I don’t get the Nagel award, though because I’m not participating in SFSU ensembles (sorry mom…). To celebrate and went and got some decent speakers.
I talked with my Peruvian friend Sara and she invited me to spend x-mas in
I guess I should have started a new paragraph on the subject of food… but whatever… this isn’t for a grade. Killian made friends with a totally cool Spanish chick/lady. I invited them over for breakfast… in most countries it seems to me that breakfast means bread, cheese, and possibly bologna, but of course Killian and I are used to US standards, so I made them French toast, bacon, and fruit with yogurt. The Spanish lady had never eaten French toast and was sort of horrified at the amount of calories going on, so she started vaguely referencing having previously eaten, but al final she had a piece, but without syrup… Estadounidenses seem to have a reputation of being generally fat and porcious. I apologize for reinforcing this. But at least we eat within the boundaries of decency… my Belgian roommate was eating raw ground beef mixed with mayonnaise, mustard and capers. (!)
Music life is going alright… I finally started to get down to some serious reed work. I’ve now learned reed-making from three different professors… you’d think I’d be more consistent. My professor conseguired me an accompanist. I meet with him on Wednesday. I doubt he could live up to the legacy of John Chen… but we’ll see. We might do a bassoon concert in November at the university, so I’m working on the Elgar piece (Romance for Bassoon and Piano.)
My non-music classes are generally boring. Portuguese is fun, but I’m hardly learning anything. Spanish grammar is Spanish grammar and Chilean culture is practically a paradox. Well, I shouldn’t be so harsh, but it seems that 17 years of fascism plus heavy modernization took it’s toll on national identity. There’s not too much patriotism here… Then again it might just be my impression from living in the most urban neighborhood of the country… I bet in the campo there’s more visible culture. We had a couple classes on Chilean economy which were taught by a super intimidating old man who, as it turns out, studied economy and university of Chicago (this has great significance in Chile- look it up), served as secretary of the economy and finances for a couple years in the ‘80’s, works for the UN and the World Bank, and has lots of his books translated into English and sold on amazon.com. I talked to him about a Milton Friendman interview I read that had a lot to do with Chile and he agreed with Friendman that the free-market economy that Pinochet had allowed was what eventually lead to the collapse of the dictatorship and a return to democracy… he also referred to Pinochet as a fascist, even though he worked high up in the government during those years, so I guess he’s not a bad guy… just scary.
I guess that’s about all for now. The next time I write will probably be the next time I go to starbucks- I know! Silly gringo traveling thousands of miles to patronize the same old corporations, but you don’t understand! You can’t get good coffee here except at starbucks. It’s either half-milk/half coffe, or it’s a tiny espresso- no asking for “una café, por favor” without all kinds of inquisition. There’s a coffee maker here, so I tried buying grounds at the store and making it here, but the coffee they have tastes like the unspeakable and the little bag of safeway select coffee (how did that get here??) must be some kind of delicacy cause it’s like 6.000 pesos (12 USD) .
But I shouldn’t talk so poorly of
Hope all is well in gringolandia (they actually say that here!)
oye nelson, cual es tu e-mail? gracias por el comentario, pero no te pudia responder. saludos a tu familia... y a sr. granger jaja. sigue leyendo y tratare de escribir mas.Sunday, August 26, 2007
Matt and I went climbing for a the weekend with his friend Paulo, a little moustached, slang-using out-doorsman from Punto Arenas (the world's southernmost city). We got off the bus alongside the highway about an hour and a half outside of santiago and walked up a hill to where there's a bunch of composite rock formations that have runs bolted all over. I could barely get six feet off the ground, but all the crazy chileans up there were climbing over 12 meters of over-hung cliff. after dark we hiked up into a valley where a bunch of different groups were camping out. we joined a campfire group in which a guy with instruments and no musicianship was obligating everyone to try chewing coca leaves together with this hard, bitter/salty thing that he said grew on a plantain tree. while he was going on about the indigenous rituals involved, half of my mouth and my tongue became completely numb, so i discreetly spit out my mystical drug lump into the bushes. that night i slept in my hooded sleeping bag with a sweater, jacket, long-johns and socks while the guy next to me slept in his coat with his climbing rope as a pillow... as i was barely warm enough, i imagined that he must have been miserable, but he slept just fine and had set up his coffee making by the time i was crawling out of my sleeping bag all bleary-eyed and shivery. he told me how sometimes, when he's climbing a super long route, he'll just spend the night in his harness hanging off the cliff. later i saw him scaling a totally gnarly looking route while a bunch of guys yelled encouragement from below.
it was super refreshing to get out of the city and kick it in the bush with some gnarly dudes who are totally stoked to be outside all day drinking copious quantities of profoundly strong mate and tirelessly practicing an intense man/nature binding sport, even if i couldn't keep up so well. around my place they just keep the ol' bullshit box blasting garbage into the eyes and ears while paralyzing their other senses for hours (oye valerie, si estas leyendo eso, tendrás que reconocer la certeza de mi metáfora.) ...so i dunno... i might move out. my place is relatively cheap, the location is good and my compañeras are cool, but i'd like to be living with only chileans... preferably those who are into outdoors trips and share my hate of popmediagarbage fountains. matt conseguired a bomb spot... it's in a gnarlier neighborhood in an old super latin-american house owned by a chilean rasta who plays drums in a reggae band. i feel that i must change my path while the inspiration lasts... egg me on in the comment box.
it was super refreshing to get out of the city and kick it in the bush with some gnarly dudes who are totally stoked to be outside all day drinking copious quantities of profoundly strong mate and tirelessly practicing an intense man/nature binding sport, even if i couldn't keep up so well. around my place they just keep the ol' bullshit box blasting garbage into the eyes and ears while paralyzing their other senses for hours (oye valerie, si estas leyendo eso, tendrás que reconocer la certeza de mi metáfora.) ...so i dunno... i might move out. my place is relatively cheap, the location is good and my compañeras are cool, but i'd like to be living with only chileans... preferably those who are into outdoors trips and share my hate of popmediagarbage fountains. matt conseguired a bomb spot... it's in a gnarlier neighborhood in an old super latin-american house owned by a chilean rasta who plays drums in a reggae band. i feel that i must change my path while the inspiration lasts... egg me on in the comment box.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
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