Chileanos

Wherever you go, people are more the same than they are different. Our time here has revealed that the differences between Chileans and NorteAmericanos are mostly negligible, with a few differences of note:

In general, we all have two eyes, ears, and nostrils, a mouthful of teeth and hairy legs. Chileans love their families, free time, desserts and cars, although are not near as enamored with their kitchen appliances as we are. Like us, most have dreams hindered by responsibilities, incomes mired by cuentas (bills), and vidas (lives) inundated with the pursuit of the aforementioned. They are concerned about their waistlines, bank accounts, and poor people, but not enough to stop eating, start saving or volunteer.

But there are differences as well. Chileans hate it when the busses strike, are not afraid of staring one down to make it stop, and are more apt to be tear-gassed when they do. Most have strong feelings about the Colo Colo soccer team, have sung the fight song while riding the metro, and are more likely to be tear-gassed when at a game. They basically support their government, can freely speak out against it, but are more likely to be tear-gassed if they do.

They sweep their leaves, talk funny, and love white bread. They eat late, work slow, and wouldn’t know a good cup of coffee if they burned their tongues on it. They are good business people, dress nice, but have a queer reverence for receipts. Cab drivers can be warm in a cold kind of way, outgoingly introverted, and pleasantly crabby.

I’d love to introduce them to zucchini bread, rakes, and Dr. Scholls inserts. I’d advise them to reject American restaurant chains, Latin American Idol, and the proposed highway development along the beautiful Avenida Vespucio. I hope they embrace their fleeting culture, on-line bill pay and Mercado Libre (think ebay).

For the past 11 months, I’ve been one of them. While I don’t have an identity worth stealing, I do have a carnet, a Chilean ID card, that I proudly show to whoever cares. I’ve enjoyed this change of self and am thankful for the opportunity to be someone different for a while. However, my visa expires in July, so soon I will just be estadounidense once again.

Sisma

(picture taken by Ciervo while waiting for the metro one morning)