Let's Talk About La Campana

First heres a picture. 

Second, they call that Cerro La Campana. For those of you who don’t know, “cerro” is Spanish for “hill”. Does that look like a hill to you?!

(enter your “awh hell naw!” here)

Ok good, I didn’t think so either.

            Everyone and their brother (meaning a bunch of kids from my study abroad program) have hiked this bad mamma jamma. So I have been waiting and waiting for my chance to conquer the hill. And so the chance was born.

            Our Chilean friend Kenneth (who actually looks german) decided to skip his Friday class and accompany us ladies to the hike of death (for his 4^th time or something crazy like that). He drove, we spoke Spanish in the car, the drive up north was beautiful, life was great. Then we started walking. Excuse me but when the heck did walking get so hard?!! I was struggling big time. After about 10 minutes of labored walking I reached that point of no return: if I started sweating now it was NEVER going to stop. So we stopped to take off our outer layers. It was at this point that Kenneth spots my water bottle. This is not your ordinary water bottle, people. This bad boy is a liter and a half. And HEAVY. He cocks his head to the side and says, “hay un fuente a la mina” (there’s a fountain at the mine). At this point all Spanish has flown out the window:  A FREAKING FOUNTAIN?! WHY THE HECK HAVE I BEEN CARRYING THIS THING?! Kenneth, knowing quite a bit of English, laughs at me and advises me to leave the water behind. So Erin and I (she also came overly prepared) end up setting our huge bottles in a bush on the side of the way.

I imagine that delight of having a post-birth, baby free belly is about the equivalent of the relief I felt when I lost that store bought water that caused me so much pain. (But lets be real for the record, I would have rather lugged that whole water bottle around Chile than have a kid right now.)

Now baby bottle free, we hiked and hiked, attempting to speak in Spanish but ultimately failing in the end. Although putting one foot in front of the other appears to be a simple enough task it is not. When you can feel the burn of buns and thighs being sculpted into pure stone every ounce of your brain power is needed to lift a foot, push it forward, and put it back down again, all while breathing, keeping balance, and trying to remember the last time you applied sun screen. If ever the Olympics gets a little creative and creates "the fall games” I would officially suggest the port of Speaking Spanish as a Second Language While Hiking.

The rules are as follows:

1.     A native Chilean Spanish speaking guide will lead you in your hiking adventure.

2.     He/she will initiate a conversation with the hiker.

3.     The hiker must continue conversation.  

4.     Every time the hiker makes a grammatical mistake they have to repeat the "Tres tristes tigres…" tongue twister

5.     Every time there is a pause of longer than 5 seconds on the hiker’s end of conversation the hiker must do 5 calf raisers on the nearest rock

6.     The hiker is disqualified if he/she cries

7.     At the end of the hike the points will be tallied like they are in golf. The hiker with the mostest wins

8.     No one is going to even make it to this point at some point each hiker will be curled up in a ball crying out of sheer frustration at the loss of Spanish abilities while hiking

**There is no gold metal awarded. Only a 1.5 liter bottle of Nestle Pure Life Water will be received as a permanent reminder of a fruitless struggle.

Now where were we…

Ok so we make it to the mine/water fill up station. We are not alone. There is a group of Chileans. And 2 frisky cows. Let's be perfectly frank. These cows did NOT belong there. And as cute as it was to watch a cow wrestle with thin air, it was not fun to see that thing turn and run in your direction. It turns out that no, the cow was not gunning for me because it could smell my fear, it wanted water. Had I know that he wanted water I would have saved my bottle and thrown it at him while he was a safe distance away. Let me also point out here that I’m not afraid of domesticated animals. Horses, llamas, gold fish, all fine with me. But cows? Lets get real. Those things have horns. And I have a face and belly that I would prefer stay un-trampled.

 So to further avoid catastrophe my friend Jenna and I decided it was time to use the facilities. And by facilities I mean the nearest un populated area with good tree cover. Long story short, after a very detailed and visually demonstrated lesson about how to successfully pee in the wilderness I am holding Jenna’s pants because she just can’t do it. I in the mean time am so thankful that I have already successfully taken my own advice because I was laughing so hard that I would have gone right then and there in my own britches.

And from there on out things are pretty standard. There’s a lot more hiking, and more hiking, and climbing some rocks, and hikking, and picture taking, and finally the “summit”. It’s a beautiful view despite the fact that there are clouds below us, blocking parts of the view. But nevertheless, the view was breathtaking and although I already knew it would be, I told myself that it was worth the hike. We munched some food, took more pictures, shot a baby video for a short documentary we would like to call “Kinientos Dias de Mochilla” (500 Days of Backpack). And thus the honeymoon phase of this adventure comes to a close.

The hiking back down part was downright dreadful. I don’t know if both of my knees have hurt so badly simultaneously in my whole life. Before this day I also don’t know that I’ve ever had the thought that jumping off of a mountain would be less painful than the thought of finishing a hike. Now I do. So one awful bad mood, 3 hours, and an attempted Spanish conversation about rugby and pole-vaulting later we made it to that special point in the trail. The place where we abandoned our water babies. But low and behold there they are, just waiting for us to reclaim them, weighing the same ridiculous weight as before, just mocks us. And here to me left the bottle remains. After our experience together I’m not sure if I have the heart to open her. Perhaps I will bring her on my next trip: the Atacama Desert. I’m feeling a new tv series coming on: (sing to the tune of the Carmen San Diego theme) “Where in the World is Kait’s Bottle of Water?”  

                                          (Post-hike...my face says it all)

En Fin.

***I hereby dedicate this blog post to Charlie Harrisberger, my darling ISA director in Texas, who for the last few weeks has less than subtly requested a new blog post.                                        This one’s for you kiddo. ***

In Case You Missed It

Ok its no secret, I’ve been a little floja (lazy) when it comes to the whole blogging thing lately. Its not that I don’t want you guys to know what’s going on but life here has settled down quite a bit. The things that I would write about al principio (at first) are no longer a big deal. So its hard for me to a) see a point in writing about ordinary life b) find the motivation/time to write and c) muster up the snarkiness required to make anything that I write entertaining. So there you have it, my formal apology for being a study abroad bum.

So lets catch up on some more interesting highlights of my life in the past few weeks.

Santiago:

Ok so I wrote about the ramadas at Fiestas Patrias but I didn’t tell the whole story. I also went to Santiago with my Chilean family so we could visit my host sister Milenka, her husband Marco, and their daughter Maisa. We stayed for 3 days in what I called “Spanish Land” because I only spoke in Spanish for 3 whole days. It was both exhausting and rewarding. I also discovered in “Spanish Land” that my Spanish vastly improves after drinking a terremoto. Who would have thought? 

Anyways, the big story from Santiago? A unique run in with one of the nicest men I have ever met:

So I’m at the rodeo. (where the cowboys don’t use lassos to stop their bull, they instead run the chest of their horse into the bull and run it into a wall. From what I saw the goal is to have the bull off the ground, completely stopped between your horse and the wall of the arena. Lets just say the PETA people would have had a field day at this event)

This poor little guy's face is clearly crying out for help

So I’m at the more violent than necessary rodeo, looking at the stalls where they sell souvenirs.  I finally spot the item I want. It has been a long search but my journey has finally come to an end. “Cuanto cuesta?” (how much does this cost?)  “mil quienientos” (the equivalent to 3 US dollars) “ok” and I start to walk away. “de donde eres?” (where are you from?) “Los Estados Unidos, obvio ” (The United States, obviously, pointing at my blond hair). And so the conversation continues. He aske me about my studies, how long I’m going to be here. I say that I’m super sad to leave so he reaches down and grabs a keychain off of the table and says “un regalito” meaning, a little gift for you. “en serio?” (seriously?!) and he tells me yes, of course, so you can remember your first Chilean rodeo and your time in Santiago. I give him a big time thank you and mentally decide to buy the trinket that isn’t actually worth mil quinientos just because this man is so stinking sweet. But it doesn’t stop there folks. By the end of this interaction I have a glass of chicha from the land of Pablo Neruda, a sombrero which has been slapped on my head, and a mata, a Chilean cowboy poncho on one shoulder. My mom is taking pictures. I am the only gringa in the entire place (as usual). People are beginning to stare.

And this my friends, is the result: 

Yes, I look absolutely ridiculous. But yes, I am enjoying it oh so much

The rest of my time there was pretty standard. A lot of being lost in conversation because all 5 people would be talking in warp speed at the dinner table. A lot of attempting and failing to communicate very basic ideas. And a lot of learning about Chilean conversations work. Overall I would call this day a success. 

And here's some pictures of my host niece because she's just so darn cute: 

 Maisa y mi mama Chilena 

Kayaking: 

Lets start off by saying that this has been on my Chile bucket list since I got here. So getting to do this (and for only $6USD) totally made my trip. I went with 2 other gringos and 7 Chileans and a Peruvian. It was an amazingly fun time even though I forgot a spare change of dry clothes...I was completely freezing my little buns off but like I said, fue vale la pena (it was worth it). I was with 3 guys, Scott, Nelson, and Oscar who have a wrap for doing stupid and crazy things while together... so we or may not have had security called on us. 

The 3 crazies all surf so they were wearing wetsuits which means they spent half of their time in the water, not in their kayaks. They kept tipping each other out, trying to stand up in their kayaks, and splashing the rest of us. And when we got back they felt the need to jump off the pier multiple times (enter security). But the moral of the story is that we got the pictures, the boys got to be crazy, and we all got a good laugh out of it. My friend Deanna and I plan to return when it heats up and jump off the pier too ; )

 Me and my girl Deanna 

 Soaking wet. Thanks guys

The whole gang 

After kayaking:  

A group of us went back to Deanna's house. Deanna is a Chilean Gringa. She has lived in Chile since she was 4 because her parents are missionaries (meaning she is fluent in both english and Chilean spanish). So her family (2 parents and 2 siblings) are one of the greatest discoveries I have made here. Their house just feels like home and I already call her mom my mama. We had great conversation with about 11 of us around a huge table complete with ham and cheese sandwiches, tea, brownies, and a never ending supply of bread. It was great! And what made this night even better is that we taught my friend Oscar the phrase "dang girl!" So he says it all the time now. Its pretty hilarious. 

This Might Just Be Funny

So I'm at Logar de Niñas (the girl's orphanage in Viña), which is a regular weekly occurrence. But today is different (and by today I mean Wednesday). Its really bleh outside: kind of sprinkling, definitely cloudy, and even more definitely freezing. So instead of hanging out on the playground outside like normal we are inside on the ground coloring. Things are perfectly normal, the girls are yelling, fighting about sharing the colors, and continually asking for dulces (candy). Like I said, things are normal.  But then life gets interesting...

I'm sitting on the floor coloring with a little girl when I see another girl walking on her hands and knees like a dog. She even has a piece of paper hanging out of her mouth like a dog would carry something. So I say "mira! estas una perra!" (Side note: Here in spanish the nouns for both people and animals change depending on gender. Por ejemplo: mono is male monkey and mona is female monkey. This is information that you need to know before we continue the story) So here I am thinking that I said "look! you're a dog!" in an attempt to bond with her and create conversation. But no. she just gives me a look and keeps moving. So, thinking that i have just been ignored I say it again louder. No reaction. Its at this point that my friend Erin leans over and says "I don't think that means what you think it means". But no, I feel like a have a pretty good handle on my spanish so I respond "I'm saying she looks like a dog" and repeat the sentence for the third time. After this third time it occurs to me that I remember hearing "perra" used as a slang. And it is not a pretty word. So as it turns out "Bitch" the term for a female dog in english has the equivalent meaning in spanish.

Yes, I just called a 7 year old orphan girl a bitch. three times. right in front of her face.
that my friends, is what we call "lost in translation" or as I prefer call it, a "spanish fail"

So like I said, it may or may not be funny. I still can't decide.

But while you make your decision here's some pictures for your viewing pleasure:

Katy is one of my favorite girls. We refer to ourselves as Katy Uno y Katy Dos

Carrete

Carrete: bobbin. or in Chilean slang: a party.

You may be asking yourself why might a bobbin and a party be connected? Let me tell you. A carrete is a party that is like a bobbin. You pull the thread, pull the thread, but the thread just keeps unwinding and it seems like forever before you reach the end. That pretty much explains the Chilean take on parties: they never end.

Fiestas Patrias: Chilean 4th of July.

No, its not actually like 4th of July. Theres BBQs and fireworks but its so much more than that. No only do Chileans take pride in their independence, but their ability to throw a good party. Most people in the country are off for the ENTIRE week, and my friend Lucas was even given a "bonus" of about the equivalent of $150 USD so he could "celebrate the holiday right" (his boss' words, not mine). What in the world would someone need to spend $150 on you might be asking yourself. Let me show you.

 A Ramada (where a ton of Chileans go to party) is like a state fair (minus the pigs and beauty queens) Theres a ton of food, alcohol, games, rides, and merriment. 

 Anticucho: huge meat kabobs. These things rocked my world. 

 Games that no one wins. Ever. 

 Churros: Chilean funnel cake sticks. It was heaven

 Candied apples that my mama has an obsession with. At all times she could be found with the remnants of candy coating around her mouth. 

 Terremoto: sweet wine, fermenta (who even knows what this stuff is??), and pineapple ice cream. oooooooh baby!

 More asado, because I just couldn't get enough 

 Chicha: the grape version of spiked apple cider. And yes, that whole barrel is full of it. 

Me and mama with some chicha

And thats not even all. There were tons of stalls with clothes, jewelry, and trinkets for sale, carnival rides, cotton candy, a ton of beer, mote con huesillos (a cup of who knows what with a dried apricot and little pieces of something or another at the bottom), empanadas, choripan (choriso on a bun), completos (huge hot dogs with avocado, mayo, mustard, ketchup, tomatoes, and everything else you could possibly think of- nasty).  

These ramadas are all over Chile for 4 days, open at around 10am and don't close until around 3am. So like I said: carrete. 

But lets discuss my adventures at the Ramadas....

My first ramada was put on by my mom's school (shes a teacher). So I thought it was going to be super lame- like one of those fun days from elementary school thats in the gym where you play games and the coolest prize you can win is a hand full of Dum Dums. Wrong. So wrong. We walked in and it is a covered patio with tables all set up around a dance floor. In front of the dance floor is a stage where 3 different local traditional Chilean bands took turns playing all night. Later in the night I found out that the MC was a local radio reporter that was a big deal. The mayor also came by to shake hands with people and hand out prizes (a toaster and bed spread were among them- WHAT?!) So needless to say this place was kind of important. 

 But as I expected, I was the ONLY blond, the ONLY gringa, and the ONLY person there my age that wasn't there with a boyfriend/girlfriend. But after a glass of chicha I decided to let loose with my dancing despite the fact that everyone was looking at me. We literally danced from 9pm until 3 am with breaks only to eat and drink. It was a blast and I finally felt like I was in South America because I got to dance like a latina. It was all hips and booty shakin' so I was in my element! I also danced the Cueca (the national dance of Chile) at least 15 different times at the insistence of my Chilean brother. The first few times were an absolute disaster but by the end of the night I had it down. By the end of the night all of the prices of drinks drop so that they can get rid of everything. So with 15 minutes left of the night my mama buys a bottle of cola de mono (kind of like baileys). So I'm thinking "ok cool, she wants me to try this stuff out so we will each have a glass and take the rest home". Wrong again Kait. Within 15 minutes in between songs my mama and I finished the entire bottle. So lets just say that by that point me and mama were dancing together like girlfriends, spinning each other and laughing our butts off. It was a perfect night. 

The next day was a family day. My aunt, cousin, and grandpa al came over for lunch and afterwards we went out to the ramada in Vina. This one was more like the ramada that I was first describing: a huge outdoor party with games and food everywhere. My mom took me around and showed me EVERYTHING. I have never heard a person talk so much in my life. But at one of the stalls she points to a little wooden indian statue and asks if I know what it is. I said yeah, its an indian (i was thinking, ok mom, I might not speak great spanish but I'm not so dumb that I don't know what an indian figurine is). She just shook her head and asked me again if I knew what it was. I just looked at her like "Seriously woman??" and so she lifts up the indian and a little wooden penis pops out! I was so surprised that i just looked at her in shock. I had not been expecting my little Christina mama to show me something like that so I was completely surprised. When she saw my face she absolutely lost it. So then there we were, an old Chilean woman with her little gringa, laughing at a wooden penis like 2 twelve year old girls while my brother just looked at us and shook his head. Easily the funniest thing that has happened to me since I've been here. 

Reflections of a Prisoner

God used my down time with bronchitis as an opportunity to knock on my heart. I have spent the last 3 weeks battling against a cough, fatigue, mood swings caused by dreary days and low energy…and did I mention fatigue? All because I have bronchitis. This past weekend I was forced by my Chilean mother to spend an entire day in bed. As relaxing as this sounds, it was dreadful. I had too much time to myself to think about my current predicament. I was livid. Here I am in a foreign country, supposed to be having the time of my life and no. I am in bed. And my participation in activities has been “limited” at best. So I thought to myself, I have spent a ton of money to have fun for 2 weeks, get bronchitis for 3-4ish weeks, all the while sitting a house that I am still not comfortable with, without a couch that I can sprawl on, without a mom to snuggle with and make things better. Meanwhile everyone and their dog is out and about, running around in MY South America living MY adventures in MY time. I was depressed to say the least. All I could do was reflect on my time here (almost a month and a half) and think about all of the ways that I had not lived up to my potential here. I haven’t been to Argentina yet, I haven’t surfed, gone hiking, gone exploring, gone out for a fun night,  met and talked with a random Chilean, explored the cerros, learned how to salsa, and all sorts of other things that I pictured myself doing. And then it hit me: I had prepared myself for this trip by not thinking about the country because the best way to not be let down is to not have expectations right? And I successfully avoided thinking about the actual country of Chile before I left ...but I did picture myself and the adventures that I would have like a 3^rd grader dreams about playing in the sprinkler in the summer, all day everyday. So I didn’t have expectations for this country but I had expectations for myself.

            So this knocking on my heart… God asks: why are you so frustrated right now? (this wasn’t a literal voice, a booming and obvious “thus declares the Lord” moment. But in retrospect I realize that the Holy Spirit (God) brought this question to my mind because I needed to be set straight)

Beyond the obvious answer to this question: I'm frustrated from being sick and not having a familiar place to recuperate, why was I frustrated to the point of tears? Why was I “crying mad” at my situation?

Because I’m not living up to the expectations that I had for myself. I have such great dreams for myself, which is always a good thing. Having confidence in your abilities to accomplish your goals is a good attribute to have. But like all things in life, my bravery was not as it appeared. To me it was brave to face the unknown of another country. To experience Chilean culture and become a part of it. But now that I’m here I've realized that I'm not scared to be here but I am afraid to participate in the culture. I’m scared to embrace the cultural opportunities for fear of faliure. It is no secret that my greatest pet peeve/fear in life is to feel stupid. So I’m scared to talk to Chileans because I don’t want to be embarrassed by my Spanish skills. I haven’t gone out for a night on the town because I wont take the initiative to hang out with people outside of my closest friends group because it might be uncomfortable. I’m afraid to go play a pick up game of soccer because I don’t want it to be awkward. I’m mad because I’m not as brave as I thought I was. I’m not brave enough to live up to my expectations for my life.

But that isn’t the point is it? My expectations don’t matter. I need to strive to live up to the expectations that God has set before me. I need to strive to be the greatest woman of God that I can be. The question isn’t what do I want from my life? What do I picture myself doing here in Chile?

The question is: How can I use the time that God has given me to glorify Him and become more like the woman that He created me to be?

This trip is such a growing experience. One day I am in love with my trip and the next I am ready to pack up and quit. God is using these deep and dark lows and incredible highs in my life to show me a little more about Him and myself. I will never be enough. Ever. I try and I fail every time. But with Christ I can be everything that I was ever supposed to be. I can fulfill a sure purpose in every situation that I am placed in. This down time was a wake up call. A chance to remove myself from the action and ask myself why I am here and what is my motivation for what I am doing? An opportunity to humble my selfish ambitions and direct my eyes to Christ. To remind me that my value DOES NOT LIE IN MY ACCOMPLISHENTS. I am not any more loveable because I have hiked a particular mountain or have crossed a particular country’s border. It is not what I have done but who I am in Christ that gives me value and a purpose. I can not be loved for what I have done but for who I am.

I can never be greater than the woman that God wants me to be.

I can never be a great woman without the grace of God.

I can never find real fulfillment in anything but Him. 

The Doctor & Other Note Worthy Events

So I have been slowly dying of a cough and runny nose for the past 3 weeks. But 2 days ago one of our lovely ISA staffers Lorna, who is a great friend and has kinda of been like a big sister for me since I arrived, asked if she could make me a doctors appointment. PRAISE JESUS! So not only did I not have to try to make myself an appointment over the phone in spanish (the most terrifying thought ever), but Lorna accompanied me to my appointment as well. When she told me she was coming with me I almost cried, I was so relieved. But rather than making a fool of myself I just gave her an incredibly long hug. She laughed at me but I think she got the point: I DID NOT WANT TO GO BY MYSELF!!!! 
So the doctor's office looks normal, she said it was a clinic so I wasn't expecting much, but it reminded me of our doctor's offices back home: one big building with multiple floors and about 8 doctor's offices on each floor. But thats where the normal-ness ends...
   -Lorna was told that I could use a credit card. Wrong, using my credit card at the ATM in the lobby does not count you crazy receptionists
   -I filled out 0 paperwork before I saw the doctor. None. They asked for a number off of my Chilean ID, took my money, and we sat down
   -You know how I said everyone here greets with a kiss on the cheek? The doctor still does that! Even though he is treating sick people all day! Call me crazy but I thought all doctors were educated about the idea that contact spreads germs??
   -The doctor only asked my DOB, where I was from, if I have any allergies to medicines, and what was wrong with me. No prior illness questions, no height, weight, what medications I'm currently on...
    -And then he proceeded to take the information that I gave him and write it on a note card. Not on an official paper on a clip board thingy, not in the computer, on a stinking flash card. 
    -So he takes my temperature... with an old school glass thermometer (which I was instructed to place under my armpit) and when he was finished with it he used soap (not rubbing alcohol or something official and doctor-like) to wash the thing and sets it back down on the edge of the sink for the next person to use. I have officially shared armpit juice with at least 400 other people. yum. 
   -The man nonchalantly tells me I have bronquitis (bronchitis!!) and a sinus infection, writes me a prescription for 3 medications and sends me on my way. He didn't tell me to rest a ton, drink lots of fluids, not to share my drinks with anyone. Nothing. 
I never fully appreciated Dr. Eaton (my pediatrician from back home) until now. He always asked me too many questions because he was genuinely concerned, cleaned everything with rubbing alcohol, and apologized for the stethoscope being cold. Some things here will just never be like home.
But with that being said, the stuff my Chilean doctor gave me is working! My runny nose (mi nariz con agua) has stopped being so runny, I can notice a little less pressure in my chest, and I think just knowing that I'm going to get better for sure has just given me an energy boost. 

Other Noteworthy Events: 

Erin, Lindsay, Scott, and myself took a little adventure to Jardin Botanica de Vina del Mar (botanical gardens of Vina). Scott's mom had said that because its winter most of the plants were probably going to be dead...

If this is what dead plants look like I can't wait to come back in the summer!

Aren't we just so cute?!

Does this not look like the scene in Pride & Prejudice where Darcy tells Elizabeth that he loves her?? Us ladies decided that we would start dating here in Chile solely in the hopes that we might get brought here for a romantic picnic. Jajaja 

So we wandered around, ignored signs that told us not to hike in certain places, and overall had a very exhausting but very enjoyable afternoon.


We alsohad an excursion last weekend. I barely pulled myself out of bed for it but I'm sure glad I did. 
Pomaire: This quaint little artisan village was what I was expecting all of Chile to look like. So I was really glad when we pulled up that it was simple, brightly colored, and welcoming (unlike the skyscrapers and smog of Santiago). This little place made me feel like I was home because it matched up to some of the few expectations I had for this trip. Life was great! 

I had the best cheese empanada that I've had since I've been here 

I saw the biggest empanada of my life (that thing weighs a KILO!)

          This pic about sums up the town: so precious 

          Hung out with my good friend Shea (Cheesecake) all day

And the The Cough happened...
Here I was just walking down the street and I was violently attacked by a cough. This was not just any cough, mind you, it was a monster. It was epic. It was starting to catch people's attention. I'm leaning up against a tree in the middle of the sidewalk coughing a lung out, a street performing clown is advising me to put my hands above my head, Shea has literally run to go buy me some water, and from around the corner comes this tiny Chilean woman, running at me with a 2 liter of Coke and a plastic cup, pouring as she is running to me. People are now full on staring at me as I am "dying" up against this tree. I take the Coke. I down the Coke. My cough reduces its fury. I am EMBARRASSED. I asked the woman how much the Coke cost her (this is obviously a town with a low average income so I felt guilty just drinking her Coke) she says not to worry about it. I try to explain that I have no idea where the heck that cough just came from as I have 3 different Chilean woman ushering me onto a chair asking if I'm ok. If I wasn't going to die from the cough the embarrassment was going to try and finish me off. 
Moral of the story: I am a firm believer that Coke gives people cancer. That darn stuff kills people! But in an emergency, Coke just might save your life. Always say yes to the Chilean woman with the Coke. 

Now that my near death experience was over it was time to visit the final Pablo Neruda house. This house in Isla Negra was easily my favorite of them all. 

                       

   This view...need I say more?

But I wouldn't be Kait Beseda if I didn't say more, so here's some more pictures:

This house was just everything that a beach house should be. Quaint and eccentric, with a great view, lots of colorful glass bottles, and a ton of random alcoves and rooms. It was love!

In conclusion,
To those of you who are wondering if I'm tired of this place: no way! Everyday is an adventure and a struggle. I have never had to push myself so far out of my comfort zone and most days I have actually enjoyed it. So much so that the boundaries of my comfort zone have expanded. I think this experience is going to help me grow up a lot, and most importantly learn how to "tranquila"(relax, chill out, don't sweat it). It been a hard thing to try to do but in the end I think not being so hard on myself is going to be a good lesson to learn. Life, and this trip in particular, are too short to spend letting the little things drive me crazy. So when I say "una dia" when its supposed to be "un dia", I'll get over it... and so will the Chileans. 
Besitos, 
Kait

Little Tid-Bits

I don't have class today and we were supposed to go hiking but our plans were changed (this seems to happen here a lot, this was the third time this week that my plans have been changed. I'm learning to roll with it...). So with my free day I thought I would take the time to share some random but interesting things I have seen and experienced here. 

#1

You know how I said my mom does everything for me? This is my breakfast. EVERYDAY. She sets up my table and chair, pours my cereal, heats up some water for tea, and makes me my breakfast sandwich (which I have begun to crave). EVERYDAY. 

Also, mom, please note how narrow the kitchen is. This place takes "galley kitchens" to a new level. 

#2  (I just couldn't help myself) 

Correct me if I'm wrong but the conspiracy theorists were right, Elvis didn't die, he just had a sex change and moved to Chile. 

#3

I appreciate that The US is incredibly capitalist and can never take a moment to catch their breath but I'm beginning to think we take it a bit too far. Wednesday was a nation holiday to celebrate The Virgin Mary. So we didn't have school. The Virgin Mary? For real?! We would never get away with something like that back home. I think these people just want an excuse to skip work. And I don't have a problem with it. Not a bit. 

#4 

The profs here are super chill. We were discussing Chilean holidays in class yesterday with Soraya (my reading and writing prof) and she says, if you need an extended holiday so you can travel just tell your professor. If enough students are going to be missing the class your prof will move the class and push back all of the assignments that are due. SERIOUSLY??? I wish one of the CCU business profs had overheard that, any one of them would have fainted at the thought of changing their schedule. And for that very reason Soraya won't give us a syllabus. She says that holidays are too frequent, illness spreads like wildfire with exchange students, and she never knows how fast or slow her international students are going to learn. So everything is flexible and just depends on how everyone is feeling about the assignments. I'm in heaven!!

#5

One of the reasons the profs are so chill is because of timing here. Its a big joke that the country runs on Tiempo Chileano (chilean time). I would compare this to Beseda timing. You have to tell everyone in our family to arrive a half hour early or they will show up late. The same thing goes here. Youth group on Fridays starts at 7:00 but things don't really get started until 7:30 to allow for all of the people that will come late. It drives me CRAZY!!! I am by no means on time to anything in the states, but like everything here, they take being late to an extreme. Its perfectly normal to have students walking into class 15 and 30 minutes late. ?????!!! What? I can't even imagine! If I was going to be that late for class I wouldn't even bother showing up. But not here, fashionably late in Chile means arriving early. 

#6 

Also important to note: We aren't supposed to eat in class. I thought I was going to fall out of my chair the first time I heard it! I ALWAYS eat in class. It helps me stay awake and I'm a snacker. I don't eat huge means, I eat a little bit at a time all day long. Not here. Not in class. I am left to starve to death as I take notes and strain my poor little brain. Its a tragedy. (but lets be honest, I still sneak a few bites of food here and there when my profs turn around to write on the board. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do to survive lol) 

#7 

I am currently planning 2 trips: One to Mendoza, Argentina, and one to The Atacama Desert in northern Chile. I AM SO EXCITED!!! The Mendoza trip will be with my friend David in the middle of September. I'm hoping we might get another person to go with us but it's not super important. We are going to spend a long weekend there and explore, do a wine tour, and experience all that is Argentina (which means we will be eating BEEF!!!! ...hopefully) This trip is going to be more of a fly by the seat of our pants trip because its so short. I don't have any great expectations for this trip other than having fun. But The Atacama is a different story. David is also going with me on this trip and we are going to be there for about 11 days if transportation works out right. We want to stay in hostels for a couple nights but we really really really want to go camping. Theres a place called Valle de la Luna which has no light pollution so the stars are supposed to be AMAZING. We are going to camp there. No exceptions, its happening. I can't wait!!!

I snagged this off of Google images. The Atacama is going to be beautiful!

#8

I fought a very tough moral battle this afternoon: When is a leg hair considered alive? When it has been on your leg for a month? When that month has been long enough for said leg hairs to learn a foreign language? When you have had enough adventures with that leg hair to have made a strong bond? It was hard for me to finally shave for the first time since I've been here (because my shower is too small to make leg shaving maneuvering

possible) but after staring at the ugly little guys for 10 minutes I was decidedly Pro Choice Leg Shaving. I know I should be ashamed with myself but I just couldn't take it anymore. 

Thats all I've got for now but I will keep you posted on the next round of adventures that come my way.

Dia Triste (Sad Day)

The following is an assignment I had to do for my spanish reading and writing class. It is a half page about myself in Spanish. It took me an HOUR to do and I can guarantee that there are enough grammatical errors to make a spanish speaking reader ill. Sad day Kait, sad day. 

           Me llamo es Kait Beseda. Me apellido es de La Republica Checa. Beseda es un folklore baile nacional de Checa. Mi  familia extendida es grande y fuert. Nos emcanta a comer y contar historias cuando estamos juntos. Mi familia inmediata es yo, mi hermano, Jacob, mi madre, Jill, y mi padre, Brian. Y no puedo olvidar mi perro, Abby. Ella es una importante parte de mi familia. Vivemos en St. Louis, Missouri en Los Estados Unidos. Yo amo mi familia por que nosotros tener muchos divertidos juntos. Nosotros siempre vemos películas cómicas en los noches.

Yo voy a una universidad en Denver, Colorado. Mi universidad es Cristiano entonces yo tengo muchas clases sobre Dio, Jesús, y la Biblia. Me grado es de communicaciones pero yo no se qual me gustaria con lo. Mi solamente deseo en mi vida es a viajar el mundo y intentar cosas nuevas. Entonces, yo no pienso que yo poder solamente un trabajo, me gustaria tengo muchos trabajos en diferente partes del mundo. Mi madre siempre decie que ella hace un monstruo de viajar porque es todo yo quiero hago.

Cuando yo estoy no viajar me gusta tener tiempo can mi amigos. Juntos nos gusta ir de excursion, ir a las montanas, jugar en la nieva, ver la programa Saturday Night Live, hablar sobre el futuro y Dio, y reir mucho. Sin mi amigos estoy perdido. Nostros hacer todos juntos y nos amamos muchos. Mi veces favoritos can mi amigas esta cuando nosotros sentarse en la sofa en el noche. 

Lets translate this frustratingly simple half page shall we?

My name is Kait Beseda. My last name is from the Czech Republic. Beseda is the name of a national folk dance of Czech. My extended family is big and loud. We love to eat and tell stories when we are together. My immediate family is my brother Jacob, my mom, Jill, and my dad, Brian. And I can't forget my dog, Abby. She is an important part of the family. I live in STL Missouri, in The US. I love my family because we have fun together. We always watch funny movies together in the evening.

I got to a university in Denver, CO. My university is Christian so we have many classes about God, Jesus and the Bible. My degree is communications but I don't know what I want to do with it. My sole desire in life is to travel the world and try new things. So I don't think I can have only one job, I would like to have many jobs in different parts of the world.  My mom always says that she made a traveling monster because that is all I want to do. 

When I am not traveling I like to spend time with my friends. Together we like to hike, go to the mountains, play in the snow, watch SNL, talk about the future and God, and laugh a lot. I am lost without my friends. We do everything together and we love each other very much. My favorite times with my girl friends is when we sit on the couch together at night. 

Keep in mind that this translation is not exact, this is merely what I was trying to say and what I think (to my knowledge) is written in spanish. My lovely mother has kept an entire box of my homework and projects from elementary school. This half sheet belongs in that box with the many papers inside that read something like this: "What is your favorite food? __makaronee and ches__"  "What is your favorite animal? __I lik elifants__"  This sad excuse for a description will actually translate at the same degree as my elementary school papers: they are understandable but mostly just amusing 

I felt the need to share my low level of spanish skills with those of you who keep insisting that my spanish is good. Incorrecto, señor. Mi espanol esta muy muy malo.