Hasta Mañana, Shilena

A couple of nights ago, I was lying in my bed under five blankets pulled up over my nose and tucked in tight around me, wearing two shirts, a jacket, pants, two pairs of socks, and a winter hat, curtains drawn tightly, willing my body heat to hurry up and make things toasty. And I thought to myself, if I were at home right now, how would I be sleeping? With the windows open, ceiling fan going full blast, thin sheets flung to the end of the bed, in shorts and a tank top. I never thought I would miss the humid misery of a South Carolina summer, but here in the chilly, gloomy, coastal fog capital of the world, where no one has heat and you can't get warm without some serious effort, I find myself fantasizing about just that. I can almost feel that wall of sticky air that hits your face as soon as you step outside and the spikes of grass that poke at your bare feet as you flee the scorching pavement, hear the comforting chirpy drone of frogs and crickets from my spot on the screened porch, taste the sweet tea and the homemade peach ice cream and the ripe, juicy tomatoes from my grandfather's garden...

The last few weeks have been brought extreme ups and downs. One sunny weekend afternoon, I was stunned to hear the tragic news that a friend of mine here, Ramon, had committed suicide. I learned to know Ramon at a weekly Baha'i study circle I've been attending with friends, where he shared his insight with us in his quiet way. For me, it is saddest to realize that I had only begun to know Ramon when his life ended far too suddenly. Numb and baffled, I gathered with our friends, helped Ramon's roommate move into a different apartment that he would be sharing with a cousin and several friends, then spent the evening cooking dinner and just being together. Thankfully, I had never before experienced the suicide of someone close to me, but in many ways it felt almost more difficult to suddenly be confronted with such a situation with a group of friends that I am still very much in the process of getting to know. It was hard to know what to say, how much to say, whether to say anything. So we didn't talk too much specifically about what had happened, but I felt that just the act of being together was important. At dinner, we took a moment to remember Ramon, to wish him peace and answers to all the doubts and frustrations that troubled him. I wish I had had the chance to know him better--he seemed a kind and thoughtful soul, and he is missed. I am thankful for the thoughts and prayers you all have offered for Ramon, his family, and our group of friends over the last several weeks.

There have been happier moments, of course. A picnic and professional soccer game with the group of foster children I'm helping to mentor. A unit on Chilean poetry in my culture class. Countless outings with friends to see movies, eat sushi, go dancing. Asking our dryly witty history professor to have class outside...which turned into him inviting us out for coffee instead of having class...which turned into him buying us all a beer instead of having class. An entire weekend spent holed up in my room for hours at a time writing nine pages of literary analysis (wait...maybe that doesn't belong here).

This week I got to meet the boyfriend of my good friend Erin. Kyle was visiting from California, and Erin and I decided to show him the real Valparaiso. So we headed to the Jota Cruz Casino Social. The Jota Cruz, one small-ish room tucked away down an unassuming alleyway in downtown Valpo that you have to be careful not to miss, is claimed to be the birthplace of the infamous porte
--> On a happier note, I recently got to meet Kyle, my friend Erin's boyfriend from California. The three of us started out at the Jota Cruz, a legendary Valpo hang-out, to indulge in a snack known as the chorrillana--a large pile of french fries covered with sauteed onions, scrambled eggs, and meat, and served with bread (don't ask me why) and Chilean pepper sauce on the side. Yes, it sounds strange. Yes, it is a nutritional nightmare. But believe it or not, it's actually pretty delicious. Wash it down with a Del Puerto Barba Negra (a dark beer brewed locally in Valpo) and happiness ensues. Just be sure to share it with at least two other people. The charm of the Jota Cruz is accentuated by its decor--practically every surface in the restaurant is plastered with mementos left by customers, names and messages scrawled on walls, tablecloths, and even bathroom mirrors, photos stuck to shelves. One of the owners offers nightly entertainment, singing and playing Chilean guitar music. Kyle, Erin, and I had a great time chowing on our chorrillana (I eat the fries and the onions and leave the meat for everyone else) and talking.

Afterwards we decided to stop by our favorite little cafe and nightspot, Ritual. Kyle, a cigar aficionado, was eager to find a puro to complete the evening, and serendipity led us to a small tobacco store close by. And so it was that I smoked my first Cuban cigar (no worries, this will not become a habit) as we continued our delightful conversation well into the evening. As usual, Ritual was fun and relaxing, with small doses of the unexpected sprinkled throughout the experience. First of all, my cute little tiger-striped kitten friend was there and we had some quality cuddle time before he resumed his random freaking out all over the place, jumping on tables and into laps, chasing things across the floor, and generally creating feline madness. Later, an unassuming-looking guy with a guitar on his back walked in. And when he started to sing, his voice blew us away--loud, full, clear, and rich. He charmed us with some Chilean folk tunes and then finished the set with "Stand By Me" in perfect English.

A tranquil Monday evening gave way to a wild Wednesday night as I joined a group of students organized by the university, bound for the World Cup qualifying match between the national teams of Chile and Bolivia! As expected, rabid fans of La Roja were crazy with anticipation--we spent the two hour bus ride to Santiago learning various chants and songs for the game, including a few with quite pointed and rather ugly political comments aimed at the Bolivians that I chose not to repeat. I spent the evening with Lindsay and Jon, two fellow exchange students, Carlos, an English professor at la Catolica who's just come back from a year spent teaching at Oberlin College in Ohio, and Philippe, who recently graduated from la Catolica and is now employed by the International Program while he writes his thesis in geography.

We arrived early, got painted up (colors of the Chilean flag on our faces), and then waited with bated breath in our gallery seats as La Roja dallied around for twenty or thirty minutes before scoring the first goal of the evening. After that it was a downhill slide, and they scored three more times to beat Bolivia 4-0. A stadium full of 60,000+ Chileans watching their team win a World Cup qualifier is a sight to behold! I don't know if I've ever received so many hugs from strangers in my life. Triumphant and satisfied, we were safely back on the bus before the celebratory rioting started in downtown Santiago, and went out to do a little bit of (much calmer and less violent) celebrating in Vina del Mar before heading home to go to bed around 3:30 or 4:00 in the morning. Our housekeeper, Mari, laughed at me the next morning when I stumbled bleary-eyed but happy into the kitchen for breakfast...at 11:00 am. "Looks like you celebrated more than the Chileans!" she said with a smile. My Chilean mom, dad, and brother eagerly pressed me for details when they arrived home from work last night. Chile is now one step closer to South Africa in 2010!

The second day of June marked the end of my third month living in Chile, and I'm now nearly halfway through the fourth. I am currently finishing up my classes at the university and working on the final projects and papers that will be due in a few weeks (a political science analysis of gender equality and Chilean democracy, a final paper on Latin American short stories, a presentation on Chilean folk music and its queen, Violeta Parra). The semester officially ends during the first week of July, but many of my classes will probably finish before that. I'm hoping to spend the first two weeks of July traveling to a few spots in the south of Chile (Punta Arenas, Chilo
--> é, the Lakes District, etc.) with friends before welcoming my family towards the end of the month. When they arrive, we'll be spending several days around the Valparaiso area and traveling to northern Chile to visit the Atacama Desert. It is unreal to think about how fast the time seems to have gone, but at the same time I'm feeling ready to move on...to get back to school...to see familiar faces...to think about what comes next...to stop eating so much bread!

It's been both a trying and a wonderful semester, and I'll try to keep you updated with plenty of reflections in the days to come.