Ballet Steps

I was never one for cultural events, but my girls are working hard to change that. This week, they persuaded me to take them to the Teatro Municipal de Santiago to see Swan Lake. I most enjoyed the beginning, where about 20 “swans”, elegantly adorned in plain, stiff, white tutu’s, danced simple moves in unison. They performed the same graceful steps over and over again, making it appear effortless, while surely years of practice and painful blisters went into each step.

Apart from the theater, this was a relatively dull week, challenged by my self-imposed to duty to blog about it. Ciervo was globetrotting, while the girls and I learned to write numbers up to 100,000, practiced adding ‘–ly’ to the ends of words, and wrote about our noses (don’t ask). I enjoy my time with the girls, but it does not always provide much fodder for my diary.

But today I was reminded how the plain things we do over and over each day, now effortlessly, are the simple, elegant joys of being here. For instance, I didn’t consult my “look-at-the-goofy-tourist” map when walking downtown today, the girls ordered lunch at the café by themselves, and I remembered with ease girls RUT (the Chilean version of a social security number) that I made up for them when signing them up for another month of gymnasia ritmica.

Being culturally challenged has provided my girls an opportunity to educate me in many ways. I’ve learned that “talent” is obtained only through practice, and “poise” is simply making difficult things look easy. I have learned to wear pink shoes whenever possible, but still question the decision of putting men in tights. If this blog gives the impression that moving 3,000 miles from home has been easy, it just shows how graceful I’ve become. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go re-bandage my blisters.

Sisma


Enjoying a simple snack after the theater

Transantiago

Chile endures daily earthquakes, active volcanoes and extreme poverty, but nothing has affected the country quite like Transantiago. Santiago’s recently-implemented new transit system was meant to bridge the gap between its once chaotic bus system and the ever-expanding Metro. However, the mere word Transantiago evokes feelings of anger, hostility and bitterness in the hearts of Santiguinos, most of whom I just passed waiting at the bus stop.

Transantiago was poorly thought out and implemented which provided fuel for El Dia de los Combantantes, a day set aside annually (last Thursday) to remember two brothers who were brutally murdered under Pinochet’s regime. Demonstrations, riots and arrests marked this day for some. We had to endure the malls closing early.

Which led to our own Dia de los Combantantes: We fought over which pasta dish to share at Pasta Basta, who was to pay the bill, and the last spoonful of pebre (Chilean salsa). Other than that, our week with my suegros (in-laws) y prima (cousin) was pleasantly combat-free.

In fast, we had an outright fantastic time. They were transparently thrilled with seeing the girls, completed many transactions, and ate a months worth of transfats, Not much was lost in translation between Bob and Miguel (a Chilean version of my father-in-law), although the language-gap made for some chaotic conversations.

I’ll be transmitting this shortly. But first, I have to go break up the Noche de las Combantantes that is currently occurring in the girls’ bedroom. With grandma gone, we've had a typical Dia de las Complain-tantes followed by a Tarde de las Crab-antes. Hope your dias are more chaos-free.

Sisma