Bittersweet Goodbyes and Hellos

Last weekend started with a tremor.

Literally. I was standing in the kitchen with my host brother, David, making a quick breakfast. As I stirred my (always disappointing) Nescafe and he slathered mashed avocado on a roll, everything in the apartment suddenly rattled violently for a few seconds and then stopped. I thought at first that something had happened to the gas water heater that lives on the wall in the kitchen; my host dad was taking a shower in the bathroom next to the kitchen, so it sort of made sense. But when I looked at my brother, he gave me a big grin and a shrug, and said something helpful like, "We have earthquakes here." Ah, of course. So I've now had my third or fourth seismic experience this semester.

It was 8:00 on a Saturday morning, and I was headed to Valparaiso to take an exam. Yes--I had voluntarily signed up and paid around $100 to take a four-hour exam on a Saturday. Had I lost my mind? Maybe. But I thought it would be worth a shot for the chance to earn a Spanish proficiency diploma from the Instituto Cervantes in Spain. Nice resume padding, if nothing else. I managed to roll out of bed and get to the university on time. My friend Sarah, also evidently a fan of intellectual self-punishment, met me there and we buckled down for the first three and a half hours of exam-ing: reading comprehension, writing, listening, vocabulary, grammar. It might not have been so bad (I had been practicing for a couple of weeks) if not for the monstruous headache that invaded my shoulders, neck, and head halfway through the morning. It didn't let up, either, as Sarah and I went to a cafe nearby for a lunch break. I was tempted to scrap it all to go home and sleep off the pain, but my well-honed frugality and relentless determination prevented me from doing so. I made it through the final section of the exam--fifteen minutes of preparation and fifteen minutes of conversation--and headed home to enact the previous plan. The three hour nap that followed, along with a couple of ibuprofen and lots of water, knocked out the killer headache at last.

I would have been happy to chill peacefully at home that evening, but my feeble protests of intellectual exhaustion and nap-induced disorientation did not stand up to a scolding from my host mom, something along the lines of "You're not an old woman, you are young! Go out! GO OUT!!" (She obviously doesn't understand my lifestyle as a reclusive nerd.) So I turned to my back-up plan and called my friend Jon, who had invited me to a birthday party for his Chilean host mom. I met him and another friend, Carolina, and we proceeded to hang out until the wee hours of the morning, eating yummy party food, making awkward conversation with middle-aged party guests, and dancing to everything from salsa to reggaeton to 80s pop hits (Chileans have very questionable taste in music). Afterward, Jon accompanied Carolina and me to our respective houses and I went to bed.

There were big plans for Sunday, as well. I have gotten involved with a group of exchange students from the university who have organized a Big Brothers/Big Sisters type service project. One of our professors put us in touch with Gina, a foster mom in Valparaiso who is caring for seven foster children in addition to two of her own. The children all come from homes where physical and sexual abuse and other tragic situations were the norm, and so cannot live with their own families. Gina takes care of them and makes sure they receive the medical and psychological attention they need, which is stressful for all of them and especially taxing on her. So the object of our program is to create some fun and self-esteem-building activities for them and give her a little space to herself. The program is called "Tias y Tios" (Aunts and Uncles) because that's what the kids call us--Tia Kelsey, Tio Tom, Tia Jessica, etc.

So on Sunday we gathered the children and took a trip to the Botanical Garden in Viña for a day of picnicking and playing outside. I have to say that it really lifted my spirits. It is heartbreaking for me to think about the horrors that these beautiful children have seen and experienced, and I am utterly amazed that they can have any semblance of normality at all in their lives--perhaps they are just that much stronger than I am. I particularly connected with Javiera, a gangly and adorable 9-year-old. She had the scars of a terrible burn on her tiny arm, and I wondered for a while about what could have happened, but I was more captivated by her boundless energy and sweet personality. We played hours of soccer, took two trips to the lake to see the ducks and geese, climbed bridges and explored caves, named plants and took photos. She cracked me up with her questions and observations.

"Tia, why are those people still parked there if that sign says no parking?" she asked in all seriousness, genuinely astounded by their blatant violation of Botanical Garden rules. "Well, Javiera, apparently they just aren't paying very good attention," I responded. "Oh. Ok. Let's run!" she said with glee and sprints off, glancing back expectantly over her shoulder with a huge gap-toothed smile. On our second trip to the lake, she commented casually, "Oh, there are those people parked where it says no parking," with a little attitude of faint disdain but resignation. Hilarious. And wonderful that she could still maintain that much innocence. Yes, I am an unabashed bleeding heart. At the end of the day we were all deliciously exhausted, and so the tias, tios, and kids all piled onto a bus and headed home. They showered us with goodbye hugs and Javiera took my nametag as a souvenir of the afternoon. Amazing. We will do three or four more big events with them before the semester ends.

I returned to my apartment in time to watch a live streaming video of Maryville College graduation on the internet--it was strange to watch it from thousands of miles away, those little pieces of my life in miniature walking across a temporary stage amidst the tranquil tree-shaded lawn, surreal, disembodied and broadcast straight to my computer screen. I felt connected and infinitely separated all at once. It felt so final. But at the same time I was incredibly happy for all of my amazing friends, and I managed to hold back tears and focused on wishing them well from afar...

"The Lord be gracious unto you
and give you peace," they sing
And church bells toll in a foreign city
Bittersweet goodbyes and hellos