La subida de la cruz

Let me start by saying that no amount of words, and no words in particular, could ever express the experience of this weekend, so here is a play by play with no embelishments and some photos to walk you through the subida de la cruz. On Saturday the family had their annual celebration of the cross, and it was every bit as fantastic as they had made it out to be. The week went by in a flash, with everyone running around preparing every last detail for the party, relatives arrived from around Chile and Peru and the house filled up with people, food, beer and flowers. Saturday morning I headed to Lluta with the family where we met up with others who had been there since Thursday and Friday (there were three women hired to help cook, along with Yaya and the women from the family).

Martina, Camila and me headed to Lluta

 

Matias and Yayo preparing the candles, Claudia blessing the crosses

Scarlet Tanager, they migrate from the USA to this region 

The hill, on the right

Dinner

Martina, Camila and their cousin Rocio

The altar

The men were finishing the final touches on the torches that would light the path, building firework stands and drinking beer, because what better time to pop the first top but before 9 am? At around 10 we made our first trek up the hill to set up the torches to light the path at night, decorate where the crosses would be placed, set up the generator to power the lights and to take up case after case of beer. If there is one thing you can count on at a Chilean party it is that there will never be a shortage of beer nor grilled meats. One man climbed with all the tiki torches tied together around his neck, another with the generator strapped to his back, others with beer cases balanced catiously on their heads, some with decorations and me with a couple of gallons of oil for the generator. I never cease to be amazed at each person's ability to make it to the top, let alone weighed down by absurdly heavy and awkwardly shaped necessities. We spent a couple of hours at the top, and naturally had to break into the night's beer supply. Because one had exploded on the hike up and obviously we had to drink the rest to find the broken can...but seriously. Logic. Around noon we headed back down, though a few of the guys stayed at the top claiming that they needed to fix a few things, but definately just finishing the beer. By the time we reached the bottom, friends and more relatives had arrived, by the end of the day there was about a hundred people, and the women were busy cooking and preparing their specialty cocktails.

Fireworks stands

Starting the first ascent

 

Torches and generators

 

Decorating and setting up

 

Martina posing and climbing with Camila

Vladimir arrived with some friends of the family and the priest who would conduct Mass at this time. Lunch was accompanied and followed by more drinking and music, gossip sessions and countless introductions. The altar with the cross was blessed and Mass was set up. Before beginning the priest did ask that everyone leave their beers and food in the back before devoting this time to God. Wah. After what felt like hours of sitting and standing and sitting and standing and singing and hand holding and kissing your neighbor, the service was over and everyone went right back to their drinks.

Mass

Sunset from the house

The band which accompanies the cross up the hill at night was set to arrive at 7pm, and at around 5 a small group of men went up to restock the beer supply, light the torches and candles and start the generator. Along with cell phones these men brought walkie talkies. And at about 5:30 messaged to say they had forgotten the 'key' for the machine. And Vladimir and I had to take it up. By this time the sun had set and the wind had started and the torches really didn't light anything for us. Not to worry, Vladimir had a head lamp, which he shared after I apologized for laughing at it earlier. At the top we waited. And waited. And then waited some more. Nothing is ever on time in Chile, the band arrived at 7:20, which is amazing, and then proceeded to have a small concert. While we watched and froze from the top. A little after 8 everyone arrived at the top, the crosses were placed in their stands where they will remain until this time next year, a fire was built, right next to the firework stands, the fireworks were lit, while we all stood next them, the band played, everyone danced and drank and danced and drank for a couple of hours (Yayo and I danced in an absurd fashion that caused everyone to stop, watch and take our photos) until the elders who could not make the hike walkied to say that dinner was ready, and the drunken, dark descent down the hill began. Yayo took my hand and proceeded to more or less surf down the hill, he is the happiest human being I have ever met and to watch him sand surf after we'd both had a countless 'few' was the funniest thing I have ever seen in my life. The band slipped and stumbled down with their instruments, no one could see anything and somehow everyone made it back down to the house without injury. At the house everyone was served dinner, a whole pig (Martina had taken me to see a pig in the morning and confused because she couldn't find it...probably because it was being prepared for dinner), slabs of barbequed beef, chorizo, hot dogs, potatoes, bread, rice, beans, veggies and the most wonderful Peruvian sauce made with eggs and peanuts (two things that shouldn't complement each other but magically worked). At this point a second band set up and played, yes, there were two bands hired for the event, one cumbia band and one traditional for the ceremony, and people started dancing. I was lucky enough to be asked to dance by the drunkest of invitees, something that once again people stopped to watch and photograph, and then I headed back out front to the BBQ and with Vladimir and some of the family friends until Boris called everyone back inside to dance. Obligatory. My previous dance partner was replaced by an old man who had shimmied at me earlier, the cutest little boy (who when he arrived ran up to me to say hello and waited for me squat down and kiss his cheek, all the while puckered up to kiss mine), Vladimir, Yayo and a student's father. The bands took turns playing until 3:30 in the morning, and Boris danced through the crowd placing beers into any empty hands, proudly smiling and stumbling all the while (he is the one who brought this tradition back and the whole family adores him for having done so, as it Claudia's family cross). After the bands stopped, Boris gave a speech, we ate some sandwiches and whatever else could be scronged up to fill our hungry bellies, and around 4 went off to bed. Vladimir and I had the pleasure of sharing a room with my shimmy obsessed dance partner, the world's loudest snorer, who between his snores and his eroctic sleep conversations, allowed me almost zero shut eye. I gave up before 8 and decided to help clean. Everyone was a little quieter in the morning, and Sunday found my house full of sore, hungover people, all of us in jammies with our hair doing whatever it wanted. Conversations were minimal. We left with my family at around 11 am because some of the relatives had to catch a bus back to Iquique. This meant that the back was full of luggage and coolers, Claudia and Boris in the front, Vladimir, myself and Tia Puala in the back, with four kids on our laps. Nine people in a vehicle designed for five, and with nowhere to put our feet without stepping on something. When the police drove past it was our responsibility to shove the kids heads down so it would appear legal. A sight that was almost as funny as Yayo surfing down the hill. I am so grateful to have had the chance to be apart of this tradition, just as beautiful as the people who hosted us.

Boris with the crosses after setting them up

The crosses and a man praying behind

 

Fire and fireworks

  

Band, dancing and general festivities

Saying goodbye to the cross before going down

 

Dinner

Grilling and dancing

More Chilean coneundrums

This past week once again flew by. I had all twenty four groups at school (first week I had), had my two clubs and worked with the debate teams for a bit as well. It was a lot for one week, but because of how busy I was, before I knew it, the week was over and we're back to Monday again. Once again I am looking at the same kind of week, and by the end of it I will be more than half way done with my teaching contract. Time is just flying by, I kind of want it to go slower, but also am so excited for it to be done so I get to Peru. 

Playa el Laucho

This weekend we went back to Lluta for a day to finish some repairs on the house and get it prepared for this weekend's big celebration, for which they are expecting about 60 people to join in on. Plus the band they are hiring. Saturday was spent hanging the rest of the ceiling, building a wall to cover an uglier wall and tearing down a rotten raised bed out front to put up a new one. None of the things we built are straight, and neither is the house itself, no one planned what was to be done, but rather just kind of kept making the same mistake (like filling in the raised bed before finishing putting up the wall, so the dirt all kept falling out, surprise). It is really funny now, but was oh so very frustrating at the time. Especially for ''Bulgaria'', as he had to do most of the work, and then undo it, and then redo it. Now we are done, though the family is going up Thursday and Friday this week to finish a few more things before Saturday. I plan to go Saturday morning, although they are wanting to me skip work on Friday, something I can't do following my contract anyways. And three-four days would be a bit much, and maybe would be the death of me. Read on.

Martina and me hanging out

While in Lluta I was bit by a mystery bug, and as I found out Sunday morning, I am allergic. I grew what appeared to be third knee overnight, another ankle and my collar bone on one side was notably larger as well. Needless to say that as soon as I showed it to Claudia, she called to get my insurance figured out so I could go to a doctor for free here. We went to Urgent Care at a clinic, checked in and I was called back. It was my first experience at a foreign doctor, and to be honest I was nervous. I had no idea what to expect, didn't know what had bitten me (there is a type of fly here called jerejeles that when they bite me I swell and itch a lot, but never this bad, just like the dust mytes in Europe, a small allergy) and I went back alone. The doctor came in and asked what seemed to be the issue with the supposed bite, I explained that I had gone to Lluta, but that the bites from the jerjeles never had been this bad (keep in mind I use 100% DEET spray, so these little bugs are powerful enough to get past that), I lifted my leg, turned it to show the doctor the biggest bite and he let a long chuuuuuuucha (fuuuuuuuck). Professionally surprised by the size of my leg. After reviewing that I had no known drug allergies, he called for a shot and prescribed me some cream. A nurse came in, asked if I was going to follow through with the shot (lots of people don't have the money to follow through with the prescriptions, but my program provides insurance that covers all of this), then told me to flip over on the exam table and she'd be right back. I sat there thinking ''No way am I getting a shot in my ass in Chile. No. F-ing. Way.'' When she came back in and saw I still sitting normally, she said ''Oh, you know I suppose I could do it in your arm, it'd be easier anyways.'' Thank goodness. She then proceeded to give me an IV shot, which was weird as it was for allergies, the doctor gave me a list of hypoallergenic foods to avoid for three days as they could make my allergic reaction to a bug worse...no. The list doesn't even include some of the most common food allergies, like lactose and gluten. But it does include Milo, Chilean Nesquick. Oh the absurdity of foreign medical care. In a developing country. This morning I woke up to a practically normal sized everything, a small bruise where the shot was done (she was a bit rough, and they were all gloveless...) and I had coffee, despite what the paper says. I am not allergic to coffee. I am allergic to a bug. Overkill. Chilean conundrums at their finest this weekend.

The knees

What not to eat

The knee last night post clinic

Lluta and lots of luck

  

Martina at cheer and dressed as Ana from Frozen (obviously). I'm keeping her, she really wants to meet Tonka and Kassi and build a snowman.

Where I run

This past week was, once again, a short week here in Chile. As Labor Day fell on a Thursday, Wednesday was a half day leading into the long weekend. My school, as did all the others, had something for the teachers after school got out on Wednesday. Some schools had BBQs, mine had an empanada. Way better. Empanadas are delicious, flakey pastry dough stuffed with all things good, and fried. For the win. Over the weekend, my family went back to Lluta to bring the cross down the hill. During the weeks leading up to the celebration the cross stays in our house, set up as a sort of altar, this year in memory of Yaya's grandparents. In Lluta we hiked the hill, painted the stand, changed the cloths on the crosses and lowered the crosses down. For the two days in Lluta the crosses were set up there, and the family members prayed and blessed it (back in Arica there was a special mass on Saturday that they brought the cross to to bless it). Once the crosses were brought down, there was a BBQ and an endless supply of beer, whiskey and drunken ''I love you this much'' speaks from the Chileans to their new adopted family, the gringos. The following morning, Boris decided to put up a ceiling. Because the best way to cure a hangover is heavy labor and loud noises. Being a girl (keep in mind Chile is very gender role centered), I didn't get to help, bummer. Instead I watched as Boris and Yayo made the complicated plans, incorrectly measured the already crooked house, and handed the boards and tools up to poor Vladimir. Who was paid in beer and slaps on the back. Trooper. After the ceiling we went to the river to cool off, Yayo 'baptized' us. That's what he is calling his splash attack, and then we packed up and headed back to Arica. Saturday was a beach day, and Sunday Matias's birthday party. His birthday was cinco de mayo, and he loves that it is a Mexican holiday as they spent summer vacation in Cancun, he is ten. He knows everything now. This week, as well as the following, is a full one, with all the classes, clubs, debates and dialogue competitions. Rumor has it we are going back to Lluta this weekend, to put up another ceiling, as the following is the family's cross day. I cannot believe how quickly everything is happening here, but feel so lucky everyday to have the opportunity to be apart of this amazing experience and with such an amazing family.

Painting the base, and the altar in Lluta

      

BBQ and view from the house in Lluta

River of Lluta

Yayo so happy to go for a swim, in cut-offs

    

Yayo asked Vladimir and I to pose with them, and then attacked

Four people, two crosses, three seats. Long car ride.

    

Camila's 'Chinese hamsters' and my sad cinco de mayo celebration

The way things are fixed here. Salt lid and rope to keep the TV on. Imagine what the ceiling looks like...

Because it's Chile

The past couple of weeks in Arica have flown by. School is finally back to normal (which means normal interruptions such as Holy Week, exams, holidays, etc) and I am loving it. The students are so much fun. They are quirky and obnoxious as all adolescents tend to be, but how boring would it be if they were any other way? Working with so many levels is a bit overwhelming, and sometimes hard to keep track of, but Chilean students are all about fairness. You can bet that if I mess up the class, they will tell me. I have twenty four groups per week, they wear uniforms and have the same hair and eye color. It would be nothing short of a miracle if I didn't make at least one mistake per day. As far as recognizing them outside of school...forget about it. Unless they have on their uniforms when I am out with the other volunteers and they say Hola profe, we all wave. Because there is no way for us to keep track of who they are talking to.

Life outside of school is great as well. I went back to Tacna, with Vladimir, not grandma, last weekend and this weekend will be going to Lluta again to start getting ready for the big day, the family's cross day. It is a much bigger deal than I realized, I was given an official invitation, with my name (misspelled), even though I live with the family and there are three on the fridge already. They were insistent that Vladimir passed by to get his yesterday as well. No texting a day and time. Grandma has made a total of four trips to Tacna to check on the progress of the cloths for the cross, and this weekend we start preparing the cross for the big day two weeks from now. It is all so official. And confusing. And beautiful. Mainly confusing. As are most things in Chile. Read on for to see what a typical day in Chile is like.

Life in Chile is is a maze for any foreigner, and speaking the language has hardly made it any less confusing. Because in Chile they don't speak Spanish. They speak Chilean. They invent words as they wish, change conjugations because why not, eat half of what they should be saying and, to top it off, don't ever finish the ends of their words. Oh, and they change the meaning of words that already exist. Up is down, down is up, or maybe it's to fix, or maybe, depending on the mood, it is a direction. On a rare occassion, down can even mean (wait for it) down. But that's only if they're feeling crazy. Privacy and personal space is not a concept. A closed door is not a barrier. A locked one hardly provides a challenge, as my window opens to inside the house, they open that to talk to me. Pee time is not me time, because there are openings above the doors where wall or window should be, so it's conversation time. It is not required to be fully clothed to walk about the house, but heaven forbid you don't have shoes on inside, that's disgusting, cochina (piggy). It's fine to breathe down the neck of the person in line in front of you at the grocery store. Even if you are the only two in the store, who wants space of their own anyways? There is no drinking allowed in the streets. Unless you put it in a bag. Or are one of the many homeless drunks or drug addicts that call the street their home. Because you can drink in your home. Loopholes. You cannot possibly survive without bread. The toilet paper does not go in the toilet. You have to ignite the gas to get hot water, and shut it off immediately after using. Unplug whatever is not in use. But leave on any light you wish to, even if you leave the house. Do not leave the house alone, maybe it will run away. Be terrified of any natural disaster, stranger, car, animal or object. Always. Always ask permission before leaving a room, entering a room, standing up from the table, etc. But don't wait for an answer. Be kind to everyone, but gossip is as necessary as bread. Telenovelas are a family event, even the children can tell you who killed whom, who slept with which hooker and who we should all be hating this episode. Collective gasps and dios mio are exchanged through the show, my stiffled giggles are not welcomed. The characters are real people. Therefore, a normal dinner conversation includes  extensive gossip about the curly haired Brazilian in the whore house in Istanbul who is missing, and her black mother in Brazil planning a trip to search for her. No one bothers to learn the actual names. Chileans are some of the most confusing and intrusive people I have met, but for it they are the most wonderful and caring. If I need anything, any one of them would drop what they're doing and offer a thousand solutions to my problem. Each more complicated than the previous, without a single one being of any help anyways. Because it's Chile. Cachai?

Exploring

Adobe house damaged by quake

Fishermen on Playa Chinchorro (near my school)

Chilean flag

Everything is settling back down and going back to normal in Arica post quakes, although they say a bigger one is expected. Today, tomorrow, or in fifty years. So until it happens, or not, it's business as usual. Damage was minimal but even still schools remained closed until Tuesday, giving ample time for inspection, trauma and students meetings and for me, ample play time. I've been going to the beach, playing with the kiddos and took a couple of day trips. Sunday Vladimir and I joined a tour group to Lake Chungará, the 29th highest lake in the world, at almost 16,000 feet. The lake gives way to three snow capped volcanoes and is surrounded by grazing llamas and birds of prey. Along the way we stopped at the famous candelabra cacti in the Atacama, the worlds driest desert houses cacti that exist by absorbing the morning dew, we had breakfast in small town where we watched a llama chase a cat and drank coca leaf tea, stopped at lookouts for photos, the lake and then a small town on the way back. It was a long day that exposed us to five different zones, beginning at the desert and going up to the mountainous lake. The altitude was higher than I've ever experienced and we found that we got dizzy moving at a normal pace, and forget about squatting down for the perfect shot. And thank goodness for that tea.

Atacama desert, driest in the world

 Candelabra cactus

    

View of Parinacota volcano

Coca leaf tea

Llama chasing a cat

    

Llama friends

    

Lake Chungará

Monday, seeing as there were still no classes, grandma took me to Tacna with her, the Peruvian border town. She needed to order the cloths for the family's cross celebration next month. I went as more of a chaperone and followed her to three cloth stores, one three times. A barber, phone center, malls, bowl shopping, pirated movie shopping, juice shops, pharmacies, the cousin's house, markets for olives and toilet paper sold in Costco sized quantities and the bus station to look for a new maid. Longest day of my life. She was so content to be out and about, being a typical grandmother trying to buy me ice cream and cutting in line because she's older. But nine hours was a bit much for me. I look forward to exploring Peru on my time.

This Tuesday it was back to school, I have now seen half of my students two weeks into my time teaching. Fingers crossed those tectonic plates stay put at least through this week. So I can meet all my students.

Martina practicing English

A little too shaken up

I wanted to take a quick minute to update everyone after last night's earthquake. Everyone here, my family, fellow volunteers, all of Arica and myself is fine. Yesterday night around 8:30 pm there was an earthquake of 8.2 magnitude off the coast of northern Chile. Luckily we were all at home, minus Boris who works in safety and evacuation here in Arica, when a tremor started. I had just gone upstairs and as the tremor escalated ran downstairs, by the time I was halfway down the shaking made it incredibly difficult to make it down. The family was huddled under the doorframe to the dining area, right next to the metal spiral staircase I stood under with grandpa, and in traditional Chilen Catholic fashion saying the Lord's Prayer while we waited for the quake to stop. Then everyone ran for their go bags, something I had not yet prepped but have now, and we evacuated. I live in the middle area of Arica, still classified as tsunami zone, though no tsunami has ever reached this far. Something grandpa pointed out, as he stubbornly told us he would be staying. Boris met us and joined the thousands of people in the street headed to the safety zone. Martina and I sang songs and played games the whole way, which honestly took both of our minds off how scary it really was. We were lucky enough to have family friends who live in the safety zone and so we walked the mile and a half to their house, where Boris left to go back to work, and we huddled around a half functional emergency radio and flashlight in our sleeping bags listening for updates until we all drifted off. The rest of the night was full of aftershocks, according to the news about 90, though for the most part they have been so faint it would be easy to confuse them for a truck driving by. This morning we woke to find that most of Arica was just as it was before the quake, with minimal damage, only buildings made of adobe fell, obviously mud is not earthquake proof. We went back to the house at 9 this morning and were lucky enough to have electricity and internet so I could call home. Then our water was cut for a few hours. And right when Vladimir came to use our internet because his area still had no electricity, it died. But the water came back. Can't win them all.

As I was finishing this entry last night, which means the part above refers to two nights ago, we had another earthquake, 7.6, and evacuated again. This one turned out to be a big aftershock from the previous, and after five hours of evacuation we all returned home. Needless to say things are a bit too shaken up here for anyone's liking and now we are out of school until Monday. It is an unreal experience to come from an area with almost no natural disasters, to one where everyone is constantly prepared for a couple. And though I'm not a fan of either, I think I'd prefer the tsunami. At least those comes with a warning.