The Poetic Lunatic

Why do I always adore donating to the “artists” that jump unexpectedly on the microbuses? Let’s see, there was the Congo drummer who rapped loudly in Spanish, the guitarist who sung flamenco beautifully, and then today there was the poetic lunatic… He recited four long, romantic poems on the microbus – one of which is a favorite of mine by Pablo Neruda. In between poems, he did a comedy show by doing a weird voice with a green clown nose. Once again, I had to put my hand over my mouth so I could smile and laugh ever so quietly. At the end, he took the time to flail his arms about each row, either giving a “blessing” or to encourage donations; I never did figure that one out.

You know, I reckon if such a simple act can bring joy to my microbus travels, why not donate a wee bit to the cause? It takes quite a bit of courage and talent to do that nutty of a routine in front of an audience.

YEAH, for the microbus lunatics!
I’m ready for the next one.

Llamada de Emergencia

Finally uploaded!

This clip is 23-seconds of pure talent, to the song:

"Llamada de Emergencia"

(such a popular song here -- even mamá hums it in the kitchen) 99% of the time I refuse to dance reguetón... The other 1% is called dancing with three 9-year-olds on a Saturday night in Chile. This is merely a snippet of what the 45 minute dance session was like! :)

Ode to the Sea Lion

ODE TO THE SEA LION

Oh, to be a sea lion!

To chat with the pelicans

about the day's catch.

To lie around on buoys

as the waves take you to and fro

and the sun gleams upon your tummy.

To mouth at the passers by

if they dare disturb any of the aforementioned.

Oh, to be a sea lion!

-pablA nerudA-

Es Más

Song from our praise & worship band at church:
(you really ought to learn Spanish; it opens up your life to a whole new world -- much like that of Aladdin and Jasmine)

Siendo Dios
Being God
Cristo decidió tomar forma de siervo
Christ decided to take the form of a servant
Por esta tierra caminó,
Throughout this earth he walked
Como hombre vivió
Like a man he lived
A sí mismo se humilló
He humbled Himself
Por su amor el hijo su trono dejó
For love the Son left His throne
Y por amor el Padre al hijo entregó
And for love the Father's love turned over His son

CORO:
Triunfaste en la cruz por mí
You triumphed at the cross on my behalf
Anulaste toda deuda mi Jesús
You wiped away my debt my Jesus
Clavado en la cruz
Nailed to the cross
Del pecado y la opresión
Of sin and opression
Me libraste con tus brazos de amor
You liberated me with Your arms of love
Nunca más seré igual
I will never be the same
Por eso Dios le extaló
So God exalted Him
Nombre sobre todo le otorgó
And bestowed upon Him the name above all
Para que ante el nombre de Jesús
So that at the name of Jesus
Toda rodilla se doble a exaltar
Every knee shall bow to praise

Beautiful Vulnerability

Why do Americans tend to be portrayed as idiots in other countries? I mean there is more than just one characteristic than which is about to be unraveled, but this one concept is the one glued to my mind presently here in Chile:

We as a culture tend to be very trusting, friendly, and open. I live in a country where I would feel comfortable trusting most of the strangers I come across. Therefore, that same beautiful vulnerability can make us look like idiots when we enter through a cross-cultural door. For example, I walk down a street here, see a prim-looking and presentable person, and give them my camera to merely take a picture of me and the city life. With enough distance between us, this seemingly respectable person runs off with the camera. Thus, sometimes onlookers assume we have no brain. Think about it though … in the USA you could ask a person to take a picture on the street, in a garden, or in a restaurant. You can leave your stuff in most places while you go to the bathroom (or ask a friendly-looking stranger to watch it), instead of having to pack up every object. Heck, if you are studying in the library on campus, you can grab some lunch and chat with friends with an almost 100% guarantee that your laptop, wires, books, and even your pencil will all be in the exact place you left them. That is a treasure!

So honestly, Americans are not 100% idiots; we just need to accumulate the “USA button” and the “outside the USA button" to be aware of our cultural surroundings and norms. Maybe a little training here and there. There are other reasons why we look like idiots abroad, and that, my dear friend, cannot be explained through the venue of cultural anthropology...

Make 'Em Laugh

I cannot stop smiling.

It’s almost sad how much I thrive on social interactions. Like a dear friend says, “I think the worst form of punishment would be without the light of day and without a hint of social interaction.” I must concur. The good news is that I finished the 150 page book today. The not-so-great news is that I have to write the report tomorrow (shaky nerves support this declarative sentence). The fabulous news is that I explored Valparaíso today with a dear friend, Paloma (Dove). We spent about 3.5 hours together eating and roaming the beautiful Chilean streets. Gosh, get two nutty girls together and a camera and graffiti – and you’ve got it made in the shade with some lemonade.

So much is starting to pick up here on my end! And yet, writing has always been and still continues to be such a form of relaxation for me. Back on track, I would love to write a blog, holy cow even an essay, on the differences in education here versus back in the United States. Each is quite different – maybe another time. However, the funnier side must not be withheld from your knowledge bank… okay, so when I was in Costa Rica, I was in the middle of a mass with one of my close girlfriends, Irene, and in the middle of the aisle there was a scuffle. Two stray dogs had entered the service, growling and wrestling with all their might. But the show went on! The ticos continued singing the songs, meditative and all in the midst of the grrrr.

With that being said, I visited a history class last week. I kept hearing a cell phone go off in the middle of class – the strangest ringer I’d ever heard. It was a like a distorted meow. After about 5 minutes of this discourteous cell phone ringing, I looked to my left … and there was a stray cat meandering about our classroom. My mouth dropped ever so widely. I looked around frantically – not even the teacher was perturbed. I just smiled the whole class. Oh and then in my crazy poetry class, the last five minutes or so the prof decided to show a youtube clip to emphasize his point on Ezra Pound. In the process, he yanked out a cigarette and lit it up the last 5-10 minutes of class. Teaching and smoking. Teaching and Smoking. I couldn’t help but giggle subtly. It is not the action that produces the laughter as much as the thought of the REACTION of how this would be seen in an American classroom… Enough about the funnies. More to come later I suppose.

My English is starting to stink.
Maybe, just maybe, that means my Spanish is improving.
MUCHO GUSTO.

*More pictures have been added. Takers a lookers.*

Por Fin

Por fin, my classes are finally starting to come together.
I will have two classes with foreigners and two classes with Chileans -- TRANSLATION: advanced grammar, advanced writing, poetry with Chileans, and dancing with Chileans. Yes, I said dancing. Nerviously, I attended my first dancing class. Thankfully, yesterday there were only four of us, all girls. It was stinkin' amazing!! We will be learning salsa (my fav), tango (oh yeaa), merengue (all hips), samba (from Brazil), hip hop (whoot whoot), rock n' roll (bringing it back), and disco (who knows what this will include?). Yesterday, we had a taste of everything within one class period. During the American dances, the Chilean instructor busted out the moves better than any of the Americans in the class. I was giggling so hard -- I believe the class will be a mixture of intense aerobic workout and an addictive dancing class. Tomorrow the class meets again. Ready.Set.Go.

Houston, we have hit the winter rainy season here in Chile! To the right, you will see people getting splashed with waves of water by the speeding micro buses. To the left, you will see people trying to survive without owning a pair of rainboots or an umbrella. Directly in front of us, we have a gringa named Kerrie Isabel who usually loves rain but not when the cold is part of the formula. That concludes our uncomfortable commentary on Chilean winter rains.

I have been eating fruit like no other. Actually, I just engulfed a bowl of bananas, clementines, and kiwi (one of the main fruits of Chile). The picture of this blog features my 9-year-old sister eating kiwi "the American way." Truthfully, I think it's more my way than anything, but I just couldn't break that to her. Therefore instead of peeling the skin off (like most normal people do), I just cut it in half and go diggin' with a spoon = "the American way." When mamá asked Mariajesus if she wanted a kiwi last night, she replied, "Yes, but do not peel it like normal. I want mine the American way." I busted out one of my American flags to make it even more official...

Off to go read another chunk of that poetry book...