I spent most of February in Santiago Centro, the heart of the city, living with 19 other volunteers and random travelers in Andes Hostel. Santiago is like any other big city--fast-paced, fairly dangerous, loud, and smoggy. Side note: the 80s are huge here. Never in my life have I seen such a concentrated mass of mullets, 80s garb-glitter, ripped jeans and all, and death metal t-shirts. The rat tail is all the rage. Young and old, girls and boys. They love it.
Nonetheless, it always amazes me how fast a place can come to feel like home. A place that felt so foreign and distant at first came to be very comfortable in just a few short weeks. Looking back, training was busy. We took off running from the moment we landed. Sessions lasted from 9am to 7pm Monday through Friday. Most days ended with a refreshing beverage on the roof of the hostel. By the way, Chile is known for their wine for a reason--beer here leaves much room for improvement.
Yet here I am, only days later and all of that feels a world away. A short plane ride (50 minutes) or a long bus ride (7 hours) from Santiago and I've officially arrived in Concepción. Long story short, I live in the burbs. Power lines, same house different color, strollers, joggers, all of it. That said, there are also stray dogs, horse and buggies carrying entire families or loads of foods clomp down the street, and trash lines the canal. The word "contrast" comes to mind...
The house has a Christmas theme- green with a red door. I am safely situated in my little room equipped with your-run-of-the-mill bedroom furniture. No window, but a nice little sky light lets in a cloudy stream of sunlight during the day. Biggest surprise: Internet. I am (literally) hooked up.
My family is great. As another volunteer described it, it's like a Chilean Brady Bunch. I live with my mother, Gladys, a sweet, funny, caring women in love with Marc Anthony's music. She works hard to care for her children-myself included. She says we are the queens of a house full of boys. My Dad, José Bernardo, works in the small town of Puren-the family moved to Conce to educate their sons- about four hours away by bus as a school administrator. Unfortunately, he is only able to come back once every two weeks. He loves to talk and thinks it's funny how slow he needs to speak so I can understand. Also, I was quick to learn of his passion for intense inspirational music. Specifically, The Secret Garden- The Dawn of a New Century. Most of Sunday morning was spent listening to a mixture of Anne of Green Gables and Irish Orchestra music through fuzzy speakers. He left on Sunday afternoon, and he's sent me emails each day.
I also have two host brothers. So far. Cristóbal, 19, was a former DuocUC student. We went running the first day and he helped me learn a few tricks for the crazy bus system. He also introduced me to my new favorite treat--chocolate with rum and raisins and Spanish cards.
Yesterday, another "brother" moved in. Nelson is a student in his fifth (of six) year of school at the University of Concepción. He studies the American equivalent of IT. He lives next door and has quite the affinity for reggatón music. Thanks to facebook, we are already friends. Officially.
In few weeks, the other son, Bernardo, will return from a summer of work exchange program in Delaware. There is also a forth housemate possibility. According to Gladys, he's suffering from a break up with his "polola," girlfriend, and may be too heartbroken to start the school year. Updates to come.
Each day brings it's own set of frustrating language barriers and random random contrasts, but I can say for sure that this skinny little country has been good to me so far. Buenas noches.
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