(a pact with winter)

Tu as donc fait un pacte avec l'hiver: ce doit être ton destin.

My dear former French professor commented on a recent blog post. He said several lovely things in a homey language that seems far away to me these days, one of which was the observation "so you've made a pact with winter: it must be your destiny."

I think he's right, and I love the way he said it. I'm shivering in July for the second year in a row, on schedule to have another 7-month winter. I do get tired of rainy days and cold toes, and I'll have missed two Autumns, which is a bit sad I suppose. My skin misses out on the fresh air that my lungs enjoy and sometimes I'm just so over the hassle of layers. But my soul is much more at home in the winter, I've discovered.

Yes, I have always relished coziness. I get tired of layers but I love to have on a scarf. I miss wishing for a cup of hot tea when I'm dripping down another summer day; I'll often find myself just wanting to want to curl up under heavy blankets at night instead of keeping one leg on top of a thin sheet. In Chile, the coziness factor increases with the coldness--for an afternoon without central heating, there's the extra enjoyment that comes from standing near the fire in the evening. For the more frantic first chilly moments in the morning, there's a more extreme pleasure in holding a mug of instant coffee before starting the day.

I think that my "pact with winter" runs a bit deeper than just seasonal taste, though. I can't say why, but I feel more like myself when I know it's cold outside. If I have a heavy heart or serious matters to stew over, I'd rather it be winter around me--I feel more clear-minded, and more at peace about where I'm going. Sometimes just more at peace about having no earthly idea where I'm headed. Something about sharp, cool breaths and hard shivers makes me feel about as alive and ready as anything else.

You'll hear me complain about the cold, it's inevitable. But don't pay me much mind--it's good for me.

(address)

Emilee Head

Simón Bolívar 2582

Osorno

CHILE

(let's try this again, shall we?)

Blog's got a new look--to me it has quite the Chilean feel to it--green and wet and chilly and a little magical. This is especially appropriate since (for those of you who might not know, though I can't think who that would be...)--I'm back in Chile.

Last time here was pretty miserable, so naturally I'm back for more. Glutton for punishment? Nah, we all know me better than that. Though I'm pretty sure there are kernels of pessimism in my character that I like to think keep me grounded, I try to make plans with the optimistic bits. Optimistic planning, pessimistic expectations, and I usually come out decently pleased with how things are going.

So I'm back in Chile, figuring that it's GOT to be better this time around, having planned accordingly. I spent a lovely week in Santiago catching up with old gringo friends and skipping out on program orientation as I adjusted to the short days and shivers of winter in July, and then moved down South to Osorno. Osorno is about 40 minutes south of my previous Chilean location, and is a bigger town (there are traffic lights, for instance) with more friends. I live with a friend of friends named Maribel, and so far we've been getting along quite well. She is 30, studies English pedagogy (like most of my amigos here), and is a mother of three: Alvaro (9), Martin (3), and Emilee (2 months).

You read that right--Emilee is my tocaya--namesake. I didn't know Maribel before I moved in two weeks ago, but through the magic of facebook and mutual friends, she saw my name, liked it, and named her baby Emilee Paz. I get called Emilee Bess a lot in the house to differentiate, and I like that.

I spent last week helping run an English Immersion camp for high schoolers in a town called Angol, about 7 hours north of Osorno. I felt iffy about it going in, but it turned out to be a great experience--I bonded with my co-volunteers, thoroughly enjoyed our "campers," and lived to tell about experiencing my first temblores--little earthquakes. The kids thought camp was really great, and we were proud of the work they did. I'll meet my new students when classes start on Monday, but I have a good feeling about the teaching this time around, too--my co-teacher Gisela is sweet (and young), and so far it looks as if the other people at the school are glad I'm coming.

Well, my battery is about to expire, so I'll leave you with that brief overview of things here in Chile. I plan to be better about blogging than I was the past few months--so check back!