(full day)

What did I do today?

1. I learned about how to teach from two very experienced and engaging women who work for the Chilean Ministry of Education.

Being taught how to teach, even before getting into the classroom, makes a surprising difference in my confidence level and readiness to tackle the job almost at hand. It's not that what they say necessarily seems revolutionary, but nine months of existing in survival mode in the French classrooms makes me very appreciative of the strategies they're sharing with us. Hearing their suggestions, most things sound pretty straightforward and intuitive--but as I learned outnumbered and in the heat of many moments, that just isn't always the case. I feel like these cursory workshops could completely transform my experience as a teacher. Hurray!

2. I was kissed by the Chilean Ministra of Education at the Chilean Presidential Palace.

The program I'm here with is an initiative of the Chilean government, and all the participants are volunteers, so as part of our orientation day today, we all went to the Palacio de la Moneda (there's a picture of it in the last post) for a picture with the Ministra, who wanted to thank us for coming. After the picture, we were allowed to go into the courtyards, and while looking around, I was suddenly embraced and kissed on the cheek by the Ministra who smiled and looked very moved, patted my arm with a "Gracias" and moved away towards the exit. I was completely caught off-guard by her warmth and genuine emotion. Chile has generally been far more welcoming than France was, and this bodes well for my time in Rio Bueno (where I'll be going). It's nice to feel wanted.

3. I enjoyed a free admittance to the Rapa Nui (Easter Island) Culture museum at the end of afternoon Spanish classes (my teacher was a language assistant in France last year--small world!).

4. I came to an opinion about the perros callejeros of Santiago.

Perros callejeros is the term for the ownerless dogs that live on the streets of Santiago. I like them just fine. They are everywhere, but they are calm and don't bother people or bark too often. They just share the city with everyone--accompanying you for a stretch, perhaps, or napping in corners. They even respect the traffic patterns--it's strange to watch dogs crossing at crosswalks and at the appropriate time. Additionally, there seems to be about 90% fewer dog turds on the sidewalks here than in France, where almost all of the dogs are personal pets with "responsible" owners.

5. Lastly, and most pleasantly, I enjoyed a reunion long in coming with a good friend who arrived here this morning with her husband. The friend is the famous Amy from the infamous "Getting to Italy" story that so many of you have heard in all its gory glory. Despite the fact that all three of us graduated from Berry, we seem only to see each other in foreign countries. It was a bit surreal that we were just meeting up in Santiago like it was the most normal thing in the world...but at the same time, the general pattern of my life seems to be ensuring that unlikely international rendez-vous become just that-- the most normal things in the world.

(a weekend's worth)

In the interest of expediency, a selection of photos from the last couple of days in Santiago without much commentary:

Part of the Andes from the plane early Saturday morning. The mountains on the other side of the plane were more "majestic" so to speak, but I was more than impressed with my side of sunrise peaks.

First food in Chile, and first spending of Chilean Pesos. I went on a short walk Saturday evening before dark (which is early here, as it's winter) after 5 hours of blissful sleep under heavy blankets and all stretched out in a real bed. I went in the first place that looked warm and not too busy. I figured this way I could stumble through some rusty Spanish without feeling rushed. It was just the right place to stop--I had a chance to confess my green(go?)ness and ask for her suggestion. This is what she handed me--a hotdog buried in tomatoes and mashed avocado, with a little mayo on top. Oh, and that's pineapple juice she made for me right then--amazing juice seems par for the course here.

Obviously, if this is the land of fresh-squeezed juices and avocados as a standard condiment, I'm in the right place. :)

A couple of blocks from our hostel is the where the President (a lady named Michelle Bachelet) lives. It's the Palacio de la Moneda. Unlike the White House, there's access just up to and even into an inner court in the building--traffic runs just in front of the entrance.

Adjacent to the Palacio is this sign, reading, "Best justice, best country." Alright, then.

On the way up the cerro Santa Lucía, a hill peppered with interesting (and pretty European-looking) architecture, which affords some great views of the city and the surrounding mountains. There are peaceful sleeping dogs everywhere, too.

Another shot on the way up the hill. I love the Yellow so much I'm going to capitalize it.

Going directly from summer to mid-winter with no gradual autumn transition gave me an opportunity to appreciate the differences between summer and winter light in a new way. This sunny day had such a distinct atmosphere than a sunny day in July at home.

Challenge: find the Emilee!

No ordinary paint job.

Getting closer to one of Pablo Neruda's homes...

...with a Llama on the way! His house was right near another hill (that I haven't been up yet)--which has a zoo. There were, naturally, llamas to ride outside, face painters, and all sorts of kid-friendly vendors.

Mural outside Neruda's home. The text translates to, "...And it was at that age that poetry came looking for me. I don't know, don't know where it came from, from the winter or the river."

This residence is called "La Chascona," which is a Chilean term for "the messy-haired one." The property was designed as a secret hideaway for Neruda and his mistress/third wife, who had crazy hair. I really enjoyed the tour, and only regret that it seemed a bit rushed, since our otherwise-fantastic guide was ready to get home after the last tour. No other pictures, as they weren't allowed. But know that it was fascinating!

Well, that's it for now. Today was the beginning of orientation, which will last for the rest of the week. Not too much else to report, except that I'm happy to remember what it is I love about travel and the person that changes in context force me to be.

The Spanish is going well enough, and I'm eager to improve. On a funny note, the instructor for my Spanish course this week was a language assistant in France last year--it was fun to converse a bit with someone in Chile who recently returned from the same French school adventure as I did!

Buenas noches!

(chilly)

Just a quick word from the hostel in Santiago--after a whirlwind 3 weeks, I´ve hit the third continent, and officially entered Winter #2 of 3 for this calendar year! All I know so far is that it is, in fact, Winter, but sunny, and that the Andes I saw from the plane and the trip into town are seriously breathtaking!

Wish me luck as I try not to accidentally speak French to everyone!

I´m off to a nap before I go exploring--this trip was about 27 hours, but easier with my luggage checked and no train-loading to speak of :)

Bisous, besos, schoene Gruesse and much love!

(america)

Well, there you have it. After a 25 hour train ride, a happy weekend of parties in Berlin, and a 23 hour plane adventure, I've made it safe and sound at least as far as Atlanta. It's strange to be back, as expected, and I'm not even quite "back" yet--James is picking me up from Molly's apartment later this morning, which I'm at because my awesome old roommate came to get me when I didn't make my last flight. There will be more updates soon--there's even a play-by-play of my train ride that I'll be posting here soon, when I have my own computer up and running and am a bit more settled.

Coming home to a place that doesn't feel like home anymore is always strange, but a generally positive experience, all the same. Homesickness for a life in Europe that already seems so far away is setting in, but I'm enjoying the rediscovery of American pleasures I'd forgotten about: I could grab a sandwich at midnight, Molly poured me up a big glass of milk to drink with a Savannah pecan praline, there's air conditioning to combat the oppressive humidity, and I'm certainly excited about the series of giant reunion-hugs coming my way oh-so-soon.

On the neither up nor down side, however--I'm not sure how I feel about arriving home and finding out that the pennies look different. Even though it feels like I might never have left at all, there are those little elements that reassure me that a great year in Europe isn't a figment of my imagination, after all.

But seriously, what's up with changing the pennies?