On forgetting, and remembering

Winter has arrived here in Santiago. I find myself praying for rain and the clear air that inevitably follows as the smog chokes the city and it's inhabitants, slowly, like the second-hand smoke on a Saturday night in the TAB. My students are also praying for rain, so that there is more snow on the ski fields. And the housekeeper down the street wants rain so she doesn't have to water the grass "every goddamn day" (her words not mine). The earthquake was only 6 months ago, and yet we have more or less forgotten. Even the TV news only covers the reconstruction about once a week now, 5 minutes for the earthquake and 55 minutes for the football. However, occasionally when I turn the tele on, and see someone lining their temporary housing with flattened milk cartons to insulate it, or sleeping in a tent under a tarpoulin surrounded by sandbags to try and keep the water out, or someone is speaking about the below zero temperatures they are enduring while waiting for some solid shelter because their house was destroyed six months ago in a massive earthquake, I think that perhaps I can deal with the smog, and that skiing is a luxery, and that we should try and remember these things, and not forget.

Riding the bus

The place to really know a country isn't in the airport, at a restaurant or nightclub or in the natural history museum, it is on the public transport, especially the bus. Every country that I have ever visited has highlighted this to me - buy a cheap seat (or stand) and ride the bus for an hour in any direction and see what happens. I couldn't recount all of my experiences on buses, from nursing other people's children and teaching them nursery rhymes, having songs invented about me, seeing a rush hour bus crammed with people suddenly turn into a dance floor to meeting a woman going to the market who showed me her baby goat wrapped in a shawl and then introduced me to 10 of her family members in the terminal. Of course not every day is like this, but usually, if you have your eyes open, something is going on. Even if it just observing the people, heading home exhausted from work, or excited before a night out.

Of course the buses in Santiago are a kind of theatre, with everything from poetry readings to beat-box rapping constituting entertainment (I kid you not I got both on the same journey the other night). There is comedy and theatre, usually ad-lib which while very daunting to the new-comer (especially when it is rapid chilean spanish) can be hilarious. And there is always someone trying to sell you bandaids, mints or icecream (depending on the season). So go on, next time you have no idea about a country, try it out. Get on a bus and see where it takes you. I am sure it will be quite a journey.

What a difference a year makes

Never a truer statement. I have been here for a year. My astute readers might argue that I actually arrived at the start of February in 2009, which is correct, but I say I really arrived in Chile with my trip to the vendimia (grape harvest) last year, where I met my first real Chilean friends. And as the title suggests, what a difference a year makes.

Last year the vendimia was a fantastic weekend away, but I didn't understand anything. I couldn't remember anyone's name as they all sounded so foreign to me, I didn't understand anything anyone was saying to me, I couldn't sing, I couldn't dance, and while people did their absolute best to include me I couldn't even figure out what the deal was with food. This year was completely different, the exact opposite. I have so many friends there, was never short on someone to talk to, understood what was going on, sang, danced, and of course worked. Sometimes I think I am making no progress at all, but it's not true. It is still hard work, but I can do it. For a change I am able to make the odd joke, instead of being the butt of the jokes and not really knowing why. (Of course sometimes I am still the butt of the jokes but that happens in English too).

So I will continue studying, as the light in my head has switched on and I can finally see what I am reading.

On questions of stability

People always ask me "But why CHILE??". There are so many other countries in South America with bigger reputations than Chile, Argentina is known for it's lifestyle, food and drink, whereas Chileans are seen as much plainer. Columbians have a voracious appetite for life, and Peruvians are open, friendly, and have awesome food. So why Chile? Until now my answer has always been stability. The economy is strong and stable, the government is similar, however, I never factored in the power of the earth itself. Now when I reply with "stability" people look at me as if I incorrectly translated the word from Spanish into English, a kind of confused but understanding stare.

And it is true, natural disasters didn't really influence my planning at all. However, natural disasters can destroy every ounce of stability a country has in mere minutes. Law abiding citizens can become animals, looting goods that aren't necessary, or buying food in loads and selling it for double price on the black market. In times of disaster and catastrophe everything changes, money no longer has value, and power is simply the person with the biggest gun. I am lucky. I wasn't here when the earthquake struck, nor do I live in an area particularly affected by the gravity of the disaster, but it is maybe something that people should factor into the planning and consideration of any trip. I never took it seriously before, but I will be adding it to my checklist for future adventures.

In Chile, luckily, there is stability. The government deployed troops to keep order, the main business centre resumed functioning after only a week, and efforts to construct essential buildings and housing are ploughing ahead at the speed of a high horsepower tractor. The comparisons between the quake and following reactions here, with those in Haiti, show that I was at least half right about the power of stability.

Chileans have grown up with this instability, and lack of security. Their past has seen not only literally shaky ground, but fragile economies and governments. It seems that crisis actually brings the people together, gives them strength. The rebuilding process is almost therapeutic, stone by stone, laying the foundations for new growth and opportunities. And that is the attitude of today, "Fuerza Chile" (strength Chile). The foundations are good, and the reconstruction is simply allowing space for new interpretations.

I'm back!

Back in Chile that is. And I am going to try much harder to actually update this, now that I know there are actually people other than mum who read it - awesome! And thanks for the support Mum....

So I am back, and nothing much has changed despite the big shake-up (the earthquake of course, not the government which has also changed but is still fairly central). The overpass bridges on the highway have come away from the road, and there are large sheets of metal connecting the two, but I didn't see any that had completely tumbled (they do exist apparently). A few houses are looking worse for wear with big cracks, but it isn't dramatic like in the south. Apparently there has been some serious damage in Valparaíso, which I guess I will see when we go this weekend.

Two months without Spanish doesn't do much for being able to communicate with people, and my housemates and I are all finding it a little frustrating. I will get back there though, just need a bit of patience and time.

The biggest change that has happened is that the rabbit has fallen in love with the dog. It is the complete opposite of when I left and the rabbit was living on top of some boxes in the patio just to stay clear of the dog. Now he follows her around like a love-sick teenager, and is acting very much like a hot-blooded teenager.... What do they say - going at it like rabbits?! Not only that though, he grooms her and kisses her and sleeps with her. She isn't that keen and bites him every now and again, but it seems like a case of "treat 'em mean to keep 'em keen". He also eats her food. Was pretty cute when they were both snuggled up on my knee the other night though.

That's about it at the moment. But I will leave you with this thought: why is it that when the choices of food on the plane were meat or pasta 4 out of the 10 people around me asked for chicken?

Chau, kiwikaz.

Was going to put a picture of the lovebirds curled up together but can't seem to get it to work today. You will have to have a look on FB.

Election results

Change is in the air. Chile had it's second vote today for the president and Piñera won (affectionately known as Pirana). So the government has changed from the left to the right, for the first time in 20 years (since Pinochet). Turns out that either all those people didn't go on holiday, or it didn't really matter. On a different note, I am astounded at the number of people that didn't vote. It is compulsory but only if you are on the role, therefore many people simply don't enroll. Strange, for a country where they had no choice for so long, that they don't embrace their right to choice now. I don't understand, but I guess that I am a voter.

Election time

It's election time in Chile. Well to be fair, the first round of voting was last weekend so I am a little slow with this update, but it is an ongoing process here.

The way they run their elections is significantly different to in either Australia or New Zealand. They have two houses, deputies (of which there are many and they basically filter out the poor bills in the first round) and then the senators (of which there are fewer). This doesn't sound too different to an upper and lower house system to me, but I am still a long way from understanding either of these systems! They also have a president who they elect usually in two rounds of voting. If in the first round no one candidate obtains a majority they have a run-off vote the next month between the two mist popular candidates. This is usually what happens as apparently it is quite difficult to achieve a majority in the first round. This year there were 4 candidates, of whom three were strong. This is in contrast to other years when usually there are only two strong candidates (one centre right and one centre left). There was a split this year in the centre left coalition, and therefore two centre left candidates ran. Because of this, the original candidate for the centre left (Frei) actually ended up more on the right... very complicated but quite interesting.

Anyway, the most interesting thing in this story is that the first round of voting is finished, and Piñera (right) and Frei are in the run off election. This election takes place on the 17th of January, when many of the supporters of the right are on holiday. You can only vote in your electorate here, which means that a significant number of the voters on the right simply won't vote, because they are on holiday. The second run-off election is always held at the same time of year and the party on the right always has the same problem. Does this make it a truly democratic process? Isn't the whole idea of modern democracy that every person has an equal opportunity and right to vote?

Voting takes place on a Sunday, and all establishments serving alcohol close at 12pm on Saturday night, and you can't buy alcohol for the entire voting day. Apparently you have to be sober to vote. Actually, nearly everything is closed on voting day, supermarkets, restaurants, even the corner shop only opened in the afternoon. Made it difficult to find somewhere to eat... not only do you have to be sober but also hungry apparently.

Anyway, that is my take on the Chilean political system. There are of course many more ins and outs but I don't think I can explain them without a diagram (yes I have truly become a TESOL teacher - everything in diagrams).

Gotta go,
Chao y nos vemos pronto
KiwiKaz