Let it Rain

I have been meaning to write for a while now. Its been hard though, this week has sort have been a big one, a messy one. A strange one. I have been thinking a lot, but every time I go to write nothing comes out. I have lost my voice. Again.
I don't like this feeling, not being able to write freely. I don't like not being able to put emotions into words or paint a picture with my voice. Its too eerily familiar.
This past week every time I have tried to write something, the words haven't made since on the page. They were too disjointed or mangled. They didn't make sense.
I guess thats how I sort of feel right now. Disjointed, mangled, like I can't make sense. Its how I feel about a lot of things I suppose.
One night, late, after the club had closed, my friends and I sat on a park bench and talked about the world. Or, they talked, I fell asleep. I remember hearing them talk about how fucked up the world is and what it would take to change it. Then this homeless guy came along and started talking to us. I couldn't help but think what perfect timing it was for him to approach us. He was an appropriate example of the fucked up world that we live in. He ended up giving us a blanket because he could see that we were cold. The irony of a homeless man giving us a blanket made me want to throw up. It also could have been all the alcohol that I drank earlier that night, but I am pretty sure it was tragedy of the irony of the situation. It got to a point in the conversation where we asked him why he was alone, and he sat down in a heap on top of his bundle containing all of his belongings and started to cry.
He started talking about God and how God's love keeps him going. He made me question my own standpoint on God, since I have been questioning it for a while now. Mostly because of a lot of fucked up shit I have been through. Like if he truly exists then where the hell was he when I needed him? Where was he when I asked for his help, when I needed a sign that it was going to be alright? I feel like a preacher would tell me that he wanted me to find the strength within myself to prevail, to carry on. I could handle it if I really gave it everything I had inside me. At my church they always said to find the strength of God within yourself, or may God's strength be with you, something like that. But I think that it is because of this inner strength that I question his existence. And the origin of this strength was myself, not God. If I had not found this strength, I would be dead by now. So, if there is a God I would really like to ask him something "What the FUCK was that for?" And do not tell me to find the answer within myself, I'm done with that shit.
But there was this homeless guy, who has probably been through more shit than I have and he has all the faith in the world. I don't get how he still believes. I don't understand how he can get out of bed everyday knowing what lies ahead. Solitude, discrimination, shit. I couldn't really figure him out either, if his words were truly genuine. I would like to believe that they were. It would make the fucked-up-ness of this world more bearable I suppose. But I don't know, I don't know what he was really all about. But I am glad that we met him, and I am grateful for the way he makes me think.
So I am thinking that this experience, among other things, has affected my ability to write anything worth reading, because I don't know the answers to the things that this made me think about. I don't know why I had to go through the shit that I did, why God is never around, if this guy was for real, is my life what I want it to be, or if I'm going in the right direction. These questions are all that I have been able to think about for the past couple of days. They flow through my head like one of those rain sticks that you find at the discovery channel store. You turn it to one side and listen to it rain, like looking at something from one perspective. Then flip it over, look at it another way and let the thoughts drip through your head. Letting the raindrops seep into the cracks, discovering thoughts you had never thought of before. So, here I am. Looking for some answers in the rain inside my head. Right now its like a hurricane.

La Ola Gigante que Nunca Llego

I just realized that I have completely overlooked something that I feel I should address. Last Thursday night, as the world knows, Japan was shaken by a tremendous earthquake ranking an 8.9 on the Richter Scale. This earthquake also triggered a 23 foot tsunami that plowed through the northeast coastal region and sent its waves pulsing outwards trough the Pacific.
On Friday morning, I woke up to a phone call from my program coordinator here in Chile telling me about the earthquake in and how the Chilean government had issued a tsunami warning for Chile's entire coastline. The phone call itself wasn't very traumatic it was afterwards that the news began to sink in that I started to feel scared. I have minimal experience in dealing with nature's destructive forces. A tornado hit my town in Maine last summer, but I was working in New Hampshire and wasn't there to experience the panic that it must have caused, the same panic that must have terrorized the people of Japan. A friend texted me everything that happened, giving me a play by play. But she was fine in the end. My family was fine. My friend's house had some serious damage, but everything really turned out like the rest, just fine.
I watched a documentary on tsunami's once, right after a massive one cleared out most of Indonesia a couple of years ago. So of course that is what I think of when I think of a tsunami, an enormous wave driven by an inconceivable force that contains the potential of destroying entire islands. I pictured the big casino here in Vina and the ritzy Sheraton hotel both being swept away by a single wave, the ships in the harbor colliding into apartment buildings and the stray dogs of Vina running for the hills, leaving us all to drown. I thought of my boyfriend who was camping on a peninsula in New Zealand, not having heard the news until it was too late. I thought of him being trapped in his tent as the waves approached the shore where he was camping and taking him out to sea. All very scary thoughts.
My friends and I had planned to go to Valpo that Friday but the tsunami almost made us cancel our plans. I am glad that we didn't. So went back to Valpariso and took an ascensor (elevator) up onto the top of a hill where you can see the sea for miles. It made me feel better being up high with people who understood what I was saying and being able to see the the ocean. It would have been amazing to witness the waves from up there. I felt like if something that powerful and destructive was going to happen, I wanted to see it. And I wanted to see it from that hill. I expect it would have been one of the most incredible things I would ever have seen in my life.
When we headed back to Vina we learned that the road connecting Vina and Valpo was closing at 9pm because of the government issued warning. When I got home my host family was there and told me that I couldn't leave the house anymore. So I went online and learned that everyone that lived at sea level was being evacuated to higher ground. My host sister took me out onto the balcony and showed me that all of the cars were in the garage and the streets were deserted, even the dogs could sense what was coming. It was a Friday night and everyone was at home. My family kept telling me that all of this was just precautionary and that there was no reason to be worried, like this sort of thing happened all the time. And maybe it does, I didn't really want to know at the moment. It was not until my host brother left to go to a friends house that the threat of anything actually happening was incredibly slim, which contradicted what that stupid documentary had told me years ago. I thought that the worst thing for a tsunami was open water because without anything to slow it down, it gains more speed and momentum. But if my host mom let him leave, it must not be that serious. At 1am I was finally able to sleep since the tsunami was due to arrive at 12:31am. If anything was going to happen it already would have.
In Vina nothing happened. Maybe a couple waves were a few feet bigger than normal,  and a few friends had to abandon their homes that night, but everything here is OK. Just like Maine after the tornado.
After the scare and the stress, and as the death toll continues to raise in northeast Japan, I am eternally grateful that I am OK. That Vina is OK and that everything here turned out just fine.

Fresh Cut Grass

After a long afternoon of walking and exploring Vina I returned home to my apartment building. Climbing the stairs, which I swear, have got to be as tall at Mount Everest, I was met with the smell of freshly cut grass which sent a pang of nostalgia up my spine and quickly settled in the pit of my stomach. This is the first time since I have been away that I have missed home. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt so blindsided by the feeling of homesickness that I felt guilty for not feeling it until now. I stopped on the path and inhaled. And exhaled, and inhaled again. I didn't expect tears to come, but they did. Just like I didn't expect the nostalgia to sting so much or feel so heavy in my heart, but it was.Very heavy. 

I hate the feeling of homesickness almost at much as I hate the feeling of vomiting your guts out after a night of heavy drinking. The cause of my detest probably stems from the mindset that I am here and I want to live here. I want my head and my heart to all be in one place and not scattered into different places all over the earth. Over time it eats away at you, creating little tears until something like the unexpected scent of fresh cut grass sends you into a meltdown. I hate this feeling, but it is kind of the life that I have chosen, well sort of. It really all just happened. Family in Maine and Brazil, Germany and Switzerland, friends in New Hampshire, a boyfriend in New Zealand, and now I am in Chile. I am already finding more people to love and get close to. 

I wish I could just appreciate the feeling of longing to be close to someone when I am far away, since it says something about how much they mean to you and you to them. Like I said before, I feel guilty for despising it. Like I am ungrateful for being where I am right now. I know that it is always harder watching someone leave and being the one left behind, like I have now done to my family twice. But life cannot always be fun and games, going to clubs and the beach. But life is not a fairytale, nor would I ever want it to be. Sometimes you just have to break down on a bench in the garden and cry.

First Week... FIESTA WEEK!!

What a week! The party at the club last week was so crazy! Well, the process of getting there was actually a lot crazier than the club. Some of us wanted to walk, others wanted to take a taxi, taxi's were called but none of them showed up... we ended up on a bus. Which we thought was the wrong bus, but then turned out to be the right one. The club was called Scratch and it looked like you could contract something that would make you scratch, if you know what I mean. The place looked sketchy. But, we had a great time. Here are some pics:

Good times yeaa. So, after arriving home at around 5am I slept for a little while and then went with my host mom Meg to the most wonderful Farmers Market I have ever been to. There was just mountains of fruits and veggies and all for very little money. We ended up almost not being able to carry everything home, we got so many yummy things to eat. It was beautiful.
After we arrived home I got ready and left to go on a tour of Valpariso, one of the cities next to Vina del Mar. At the beginning of the tour we went on a boat/lancha that took us around the harbor. We saw sea lions!!

Valpo, as everyone here calls it, used to be the biggest sea port in Chile, before the Panama Canal that is. It is still a big tourist destination and is a beautiful. In 2003 it was made one of UNESCO's world heritage sites so now they are trying to restore the old buildings and preserve the older parts of the city. Most of the residents live in the hills or the cerros that lead to the sea and it is the only city in the world like that. In the cerros there are limited roads and most residents use public transit. Each cerro is like a different neighborhood but they are all connected so you can't even tell when you pass over from one cerro to the next. The roads/paths/caminos are steep and narrow and all the walls are covered in artistic graffiti. Valpo is a beautiful city. At the end of our tour we went to a very traditional restaurant to eat chorialla. Chorialla is a traditional Chilean dish that was born in Valpo. It is french fries covered in scrambled eggs with onions and topped with steak. It sounds really strange but it is sooo good, and soo very bad for you.

This week some of my classes started, but only my Spanish classes. I have Grammar class and Composition and Chilean Culture class. They meet 2-3 times per week. My other classes are going to either start next week or in April, which is a little strange to me, I am not sure why they do not all start at the same time. My other classes Contemporary Themes which I know will have a lot of history, more work to do and then another class is called Cultures in Contact. Cultures in Contact is a class with half Chilean half international students and we learn about each other, there will be a lot of field trips I think. Well, I hope.

The past couple of days have been hot so I have been able to go to the beach!! It is not usually very warm here since it is already fall. It is much hotter in the summer months of December and January, and now it is only going to get colder. I am excited for it though, I enjoy cold weather, especially fall weather. Sweaters and pants and jackets :) I have been going out a lot, hehe. The traditional drink here is a pisco sour, not really sure what is in it but it tastes limey and yummy. The wine is awesome, even the really cheap stuff. Its all good.

This weekend I am going to Santiago for a tour of the city with my group. We are going to see all of the famous plazas and buildings and stuff. The day after I hope that I will be able to go hiking! I am very excited for it so I hope everything works out.

Mullets and Mohawks

This past week has been Orientation Week. Woop Woop. I met all of my fellow intercambistas (exchange students) and have been having a pretty awesome time so far. I have done a lot of stuff, for lack of a better word. Orientation consisted of various activities and lectures. We talked about how to live in a foreign country, focusing on Chile (uh duh). We talked about living with a host family and how its not nice to eat all of their food or take forever in the bathroom, or burn their house down (shout out to Corey). We also talked about Chilean daily life, like how to avoid being mugged and other important things, like what a taxi looks like (black and yellow black and yellow), how to take money out of an ATM (+/- 500 pesos to the dollar!), where to buy wear sunscreen (you have to ask for it at a pharmacy because they keep it behind the counter, and its expensive!! I had to pay almost $40! But I have already been sunburned twice and Vina is close to a hole in the ozone layer so...), what a colectivo is (a group taxi), how to avoid gypsies (run away) and what to do in case of an earthquake (head for the hills).

My school seems really cool. Last night I ran a marathon with some other kids from our group. Check out the pics on my facebook page at: http://www.facebook.com/kaci.l.greatorex

It was only 3km. Don't ask me if I ran the whole thing. I will lie and tell you I did. I have explored a lot, walked around, gone into stores, talked to people. Vina is a pretty small city, now that I have been around I can usually find my way around from anywhere. The streets are easy to follow and my host mom has taught me which ones to avoid at night. I have officially touched the Pacific Ocean the other day when my mom took me to the beach. It was cold, but thrilling. After we watched the sunset over Valpariso. The farther the sun went down, the more the hills glittered in the evening dusk.

I'd say we are a nice group of kids, about 25 or so of us, mostly girls and we are from all over the U.S. Argentina, Spain, Germany and Brazil. I like that each one of us Americans is very different, but how could be not be all being from a different region of the U.S. We all talk differently too, you can tell who is from the north, south, midwest and everything. I like that us kids from the states are all different, we have our own stories, backgrounds and will all have different futures when we leave here. I think we defy the stereotype of what some outsiders think it means to identify as an American. It also changes your sense of self identity because I think that we all, whether we would like to admit it or not rely on the image of a stereotypical American to identify ourselves abroad. Part of our identity is to be judged as something that usually isn't true. And yea there is also the view of everyone being different in America, the great melting pot, but thats not usually what people think of first.

While along the lines of talking about things Americaish, it is incredible how many American stores and restaurants are in this city. It is something that I was not prepared for and could not have expected. And it is not just that globalization has this city by the balls, this city is westernized, or more specifically Americanized. There are American fast food chains like McDonalds, Starbucks, Dunkin Doughnuts and Subway, and retail stores like Nine West, Hush Puppies, Lacoste, Oakley, Scott and Aldo. To me its strange, but they don't look out of place here. I asked my host mom why there were so many American stores here and she said that its what people here want to buy, American brands. Oh the irony, I have come to study abroad for difference, to be thrown out of my comfort zone and I get a grande mocha frappachino.

Amidst all of these American stores and fast food eateries (which by the way are way better here) I still am in Chile and I do feel out of place. I am happy about it though. When I saw all of the stores from the states I was worried that I wasn't going to get what I came here for, but after a few days I realize that that was so silly of me to think that. Naive even, to think that here would be remotely like there. Since I am here and not there. Chilean Spanish is extremely difficult to understand. People keep telling me that if you can understand Chilean Spanish you can understand any Spanish. Wish I knew that before I signed up for this haha! Among the brand name stores are artisan fairs selling all sorts of mementos from Chile, leather walets, cloth and knitted bags, mini statues of animals, knock off Ray Bans (I intend on getting a hot pink retro pair). I got a wallet and a change purse for about $10 USD. Certain things here are a lot cheeper than I expected them to be. The other day I went to the farmacia to get deodorant, facial cleansing cloths and body lotion and it all cost me under $10 USD. That kind of stuff would have cost probably around $25 in the U.S. and they were all the same brands. Incredible. I feel like I should stock up before I go home.

So, some strange things about Chile... no one is ever on time, except for exchange students, because we don't know better yet. We eat lunch at around 3pm. The milk is weird, like in Brazil, it comes in a cardboard box. The fashion seems to be stuck in the 80's, some girls have big hair wear bright colored leggings, high top nikes and big chunky colorful jewelry. The cool guys have mohawks or mullets... or mullet mohawks and skateboard. We would think of it as terrible style (which I do) but I appreciate their confidence and forms of self expression. Drinking in public is legal. People can still smoke in public places. Stray dogs are everywhere... and will follow you if you give them any attention. Chile is cool. I like it. And gypsies are very very sneaky.

Tonight there is a party at a nightclub for all new students, nothing like partying with the freshmen... all too familiar.