Life in the Subjunctive

Ask any Spanish student to name the very best thing about her chosen language of study and chances are the subjunctive mood will be the first concept on the list.

The sarcastic humor of the previous statement will be lost on anyone except the serious Spanish student, who likely has many a vivid memory of hours spent poring over Dr. Mitchell's homework, consulting desperately with other Spanish nerds, and rifling through grammar textbooks...only to end up frustrated, confused, and on the verge of mental collapse over one impossible question: "Should I use the subjunctive here or not???"

Allow me to explain, with the aid of Professor William H. Fletcher of the U.S. Naval Academy (yaaay, Internet): "Spanish has a special class of verb forms, called the 'subjunctive', which are used to discuss potential or hypothetical events, or events portrayed subjectively. This subjunctive 'mood' (i,.e. mode of looking at things) contrasts with the 'indicative' mood, which presents information as actual, objective fact."

All of this to say simply that the subjunctive mood is not simply an inanimate linguistic tool, but a living reflection of a broader philosophy that permeates everything here. One example that I have found especially interesting lately falls within the realm of government and politics. Chile is not quite twenty years into a new era of democracy that began with the fall of military dictator Augusto Pinochet after the 1989 presidential election. Today, after their brief foray into authoritarianism, Chile is widely considered the most stable democracy in Latin America. And yet, in some ways their sense of political stability seems slightly off, at least to me.

In a conversation about history and politics with my host dad, he casually mentioned that the length of a presidential term here had been changed from 6 years to 4 years in 2005 (there are no consecutive terms here as in the States--one shot is all you get). Now, compared to some of the recent changes to term limits in other Latin American countries (think Venezuela), this might seem like a step in the right direction. But I tend to agree with Emma Sepulveda, of the Universidad Nacional de Rosario in Argentina, that "[having shorter term limits] can also prove to be a huge mistake if an elected official serves only a short period of time while doing a good job," as President Michelle Bachelet has done in the last three years.

No one here seems to think that this change to the Constitution is a big deal. And maybe it isn't; I'm sure my understanding is woefully limited. But the idea is mildly unsettling--or at the very least, thought-provoking--for a girl from a country where politics have USUALLY played out in the indicative tense (with a few notable exceptions...). Stability, adherence to long-established electoral rules, peaceful transfer of power. Very predictable. But how can you have stability if the rules keep changing?

The other interesting factor is that political participation by registered voters in Chile falls more and more every year, especially among younger generations. No one's tried to reach out to them. And they don't seem to care, which is surprising to me considering the history of Chilean politics (though apathy is obviously not a uniquely Chilean phenomenon). Once they got Pinochet out of there, it seems that a lot of people simply lost interest. Is the prevailing attitude complacency, or just a natural reaction for a people who experienced years of a living under a government that was completely out of their control? For whatever reason, Chileans seem comfortable, even satisfied, to live with a measure of uncertainty--in their politics and otherwise. By choosing not to participate, it seems to me, young Chileans are just asking to live in the subjunctive mood.

Now that I've properly introduced my unhealthy relationship with grammar and its questionable parallels to politics, I'll leave you with a mish-mash of experiences from my week. I apologize for the list format that I've been using lately, but eh well.

• I saw two naturally redheaded Chileans in the space of two days. Practically unheard of. O'Higgins lives!!
  
• I was THIS close to bringing home the tiniest, fuzziest, bluest-eyed baby Husky this week. Toddling around the sidewalk on a street near my apartment, it was an unwitting player in its owners' attempt to sell it. They almost had me. Dumb maternal instinct.
• I finally put some $$ on my student-rate metro card and took the metro home from class on Friday. Ahhhhhh. It was tranquil and spacious, and gave me a close-up view of the port and the ocean as we coasted along beside the coast. Nice.
• On Friday afternoon, I went out with my new friend Daniela, whom I met through the lovely Laurel (she studied at PUCV last summer). Daniela studies law at PUCV and her family lives nearby in a smaller city between here and Santiago. We went to a restaurant with practically nothing but ice cream on the menu. I think we will be good friends.
• This is why restaurants specializing in ice cream are really your best bet here: 1) Inevitably, I choose cute little restaurants with delicious offerings of fresh juices, sandwiches, and cheap lunch specials written on blackboards outside and sit down...to discover that only one of those options is actually available. 2) A vegetarian sandwich in Chile = a green bean sandwich. Really, guys? A green bean sandwich?
• I bought a cheapish plane ticket to Buenos Aires, where I'll be spending Easter weekend with my first cousin Sarah (studying in BA) and my friend Rachel from PUCV.
• This is the pigeon who lives outside my window and serenades me with strange clucks. I'm really freaked out that he or she might one day fly inside, but I refuse to keep the window closed and miss the few lingering days of summer weather.