A Day in the Life

This is what my walk to the train looks like. It's truly amazing use the Andes as geographic orientation in the city. In New York, I use the Empire State Building to orient myself, which isn't exactly on the North/South axis, but it's close enough. Here, however, the mountains are a huge topographical marker that stretch across the continent. It's an epic view. When I look towards the mountains, I am reminded that on the other side is Argentina, that my ancestors may have gazed at this same body of land, and that nature - something so terrifyingly beautiful - must be respected.


Where else does one see palm trees, bare trees, snow-capped mountains, and highways in one setting?


A Day in the Life...(woke up, got out of bed, dragged a comb across my head...)
Note: The following is not really what most days here are like. I just felt like writing. It's in question and answer style, which is appropriate because most of this dialogue actually occurred in my head.

9:45am: Why is it freezing? Because there is no central heating in this city.
10:00am: Why am I still in the shower? Because it is the first time it has been this hot for this long in days.
11:30am: Why am I still at home studying my astrological chart when I meant to leave two hours ago? Because the only thing I really have to do today is buy school supplies and pick up my stipend from the Tufts office. Relax.
12:00pm: Is Home Center the Latin American version of Home Depot? I'm going to say, yes.
12:10pm: Is my Spanish advanced enough to find the materials for my ceramics class in this Home Depot look alike? No. Must find help.
12:20pm: Why is this Home Center worker asking for my phone number? Because he has no Chilean friends that are his age. Great, that makes two of us.
1:00 pm: How much do I enjoy going to the Tufts office and finding people from the program sitting around eating lunch? A lot. Meera, Tilly, Katrina and I had a nice chat about thesis writing.
3:15 pm: Why don't I get to go to Spanish class and socialize with the rest of the Tufts in Chile group? Because the teacher said it would be a waste of my time. Instead I should take three classes at UChile that are going to take up tons of my time.
3:30pm: Am I going to survive Sociology of Economics, the class with a 7 page syllabus, in SPANISH? Hopefully.
4:00pm: Why does Chile not have normal sized papayas that I can replicate for my ceramics project? Perhaps because Santiago is too far south to have plump and delicious fruit (not that I think papaya is delicious - yuck).
4:05pm: Why did that girl look at me like I forced her to trip over my bags? I still don't know.
4:07pm: Why do old ladies think it's okay to weigh their banana(or "platano" as they call it in Chile) ahead of you when you were obviously waiting there for the man to weigh your mini papayas? Okay, maybe she was waiting too, and I just didn't see her...
4:18pm: How did you manage to say your phone number incorrectly and put 5000 pesos on SOMEONE ELSE'S phone? Because you clearly don't know the difference between the numbers 44 and 45 in Spanish. See, I do need that Spanish class.
4:25pm: Why didn't I ask Carmen Gloria about picking up my Chilean ID card at the Registro Civil when I was in the Tufts office? Forgetfulness. Typical.
4:40pm: Why have I been sweating profusely for the last four hours? Because it's about 21 degrees centigrade, and I'm wearing a NorthFace coat. Plus social anxiety doesn't help.
4:45pm: These directions are not difficult, so why can't I find the Registro Civil? Because there's a sauna inside my coat, my feet hurt, these school supplies and groceries are getting heavy, oh and I'm in a foreign city.
4:50pm: Why didn't Carmen Gloria tell me that the Registro Civil would be CLOSED? Murphy. Or she thought that I knew that it wouldn't be open after 14:00 hours. Blast.
5:00pm: Should I sit and rest in this unpopulated area under the bridge? No - must avoid robbery, especially after picking up weekly stipend. Must keep walking.
5:15pm: When did I leave this 1000 pesos in my pocket? Don't know, but I'll give it to this homeless woman begging by the metro station.
5:20pm: How badly do I have to pee, and how much do I regret buying a huge bottle of water that would weigh my arms and my bladder down this much? Have to pee very badly. Resent the water even though it kept me from eating fried street food and sugary snacks.
5:40pm: Why do groups of 8 year-old-boys look at me like I'm the Ice Cream truck, and yell at me from their soccer bus windows? Maybe because I look like a 10-year-old girl? Probably not.
5:42pm: Why do 40 year old men look at me like I owe them some kind of sexual favor, or stare at me like I'll do a dance/turn into a wild animal/give them magical powers if they look at me for long enough? Maybe because I often feel like a 40-year-old woman? Probably not.
5:47pm: Will coming home to once (once, is like tea time at 6:00pm. It's meant to be a snack between lunch and dinner), and my host mom watching Chilean talk shows about teen relationships make my day? Yes.
7:49pm: After writing this entry, does this day seem as cruddy as it felt? No.