By rmattiola
Arica is called the city of Eternal Spring, but it has become evident that their Spring is very different from ours. We don’t continuously sweat from 9am to 8pm everyday during Spring, and we’re typically wearing rain boots, not sandals. Here in Arica, you can count on a nice breeze from both the desert and the sea to wick some sweat away, but there is no air conditioning. Regardless, I must say that everyone in the group has been content with sweating and not complaining. However, because it is summer and up to 5 degrees warmer than the rest of the year, even the locals still say “hace mucho calor” (its very hot out) during all parts of the day. The nights are a bit cooler and with the sun covered, and many locals exercise around the soccer stadium.
There are various types of soccer fields outside the stadium, as well as a track around the nice grass field inside. When I take the short-cut through the stadium and the university to my house, I pass many practices and casual games and yearn to join in. I was able to play some soccer on the beach with 2 boys about 15 years old, but still I haven’t had the chance to join a real pichanga. The boys on the beach confirmed that it’s not common for girls to play soccer with boys. Whatever. I am una gringa and visibly culturally different.
Recently though, I’ve received less cat-calls (which are commonplace here unfortunately) and attracted less attention from locals. One woman even told me she thought I was from Santiago and a dude on the beach asked me if I was Brazilian. At an activity day with the host siblings, some of the sister said to me, "Wait, are you chilean? Are you a host sister or a student?" When I have to confess that I’m estadounidense (American), they say, “oh you’re not that gringa!”. My Italian genes have blessed me this time with an ability to tan quickly and my dark, curly (these days wild) hair automatically separates me from gringas rubias (blonde white girls). Due to this, I sometimes think twice about going out or walking around with one of the blonde girls. In reality, I’m almost always with a blonde girl, so I’ve acquired a strong and sassy protective layer to be able to ignore the (sometimes) inappropriate comments and whistles from local men.
Pictured: soccer fields
Because I’ve been assured that the city is safe, especially during the day, I sometimes walk to nearby stores by myself and explore a little before returning to my house. These are my favorite times. Walking home one day, I found a pomegranate tree in someone’s back yard, I passed more lively street art and graffiti (most of which is about love), heard small birds sing a song that seems to be coming from a didgeridoo and watched tiny hummingbirds (called pico flores) hover around hibiscus. On these peaceful walks, I’ve noticed a few solar paneled roofs, but it saddens me that this city does not take advantage of this type of renewable energy, especially since the sun is intense all day and shade is often difficult to come across.
I’m finally adjusting to this city and this culture. I decided to buy a bike to get to the SIT offices called Casa SIT, and to spanish class (downtown) and to various beaches. The whole process was an adventure but I was able to buy an old used bike for about $50 USD. The guy who sold it to me was super cool and helped me out a lot. It’s invigorating to ride my bike like the local students. I’ve biked on the streets since I was ~10 years old so it feels good to be independent again. Plus its nice to not have to pay ~$0.80 USD each time I want to go somewhere (this is the cost of a colectivo: shared taxi with a specific route).
Pictured: my new (old) bike
However, these colectivo drivers are usually very nice and will talk to you if you want to start a conversation. For example, I asked a driver about a building for sale called “Rumors”. I wanted to know if it was a pub or a discotec or a restaurant. I’m pretty sure (I still can’t completely understand locals) that he said it’s a house that won’t sell because there are bad spirits in it. He said (I think) that they even renovated the house and it still won’t sell for this reason. This was very interesting to hear, because I know that many indigenous and mixed Latin American cultures practice curative “medicine” that is very closely associated with spiritual beliefs. This conversation was confirmed to be true from some friends who were told the same story. Moreover, the next day, when I ate breakfast and watched the news with my host mom, there was a whole segment about a priest (padre) performing an exorcism in a house to rid of bad spirits. So I think this spiritual culture from the indigenous people is still deeply ingrained in all parts of their culture. My mom told me that bad spirits have not been a problem for her because she has a calm, content spirit and that bad things usually only happen to people whose own spirit is not happy.
Even I’ve felt peaceful lately, especially after a free pilates class with some of the girls in the program (one of the host moms is an instructor).
Pictured: pilates class
My host family is different from the others I think. In a good way. Actually, there seems to be a lot of variation in many things here so I can’t say what is normal and what is not. Back to my family: I live with 2 older brothers, Italo and Diego, a younger sister, Flo, a host mom, Alhe (Alejandra), 2 bakán dogs, Gojan and Su, and a turtle. I don’t know the turtle’s name. My host mom owns a shop in the center (a botoneria: botton shop: clothing alteration store), and I think one of my brothers currently works with her even though he is an electrical engineer student at UTA. My other brother is an English teacher. But for some reason, I have not yet connected with my brothers. They don’t talk to me much. I think it’s because they’re much older; 28 and 26. It’s culturally normal for children to live at home even past 30 years old. But I don’t think they are very involved in home life. Our mom prepares all the meals except breakfast usually the night or morning before and puts labeled plates in the refrigerator for the next day. My family and I do not usually eat lunch together because they work, but lunch is the biggest and longest meal here, so I think it’s normal for the other families to eat together. For dinner we typically have variations of small sandwiches and tea. Another meal exists called once comida (literally 11:00pm food, but for some reason is served at 7 or 8 or 9pm) but my family usually does not partake. Luckily, I have connected with my sister who is my translator. She rolls her eyes when her mom speaks too Chilean (fast and slurred) and instead will annunciate her words and speak slower for me. I can understand almost everything she says. For most other locals, I can still only understand about 50-60% of what they say, the first time they say it. Once in a blue moon I’ll talk with someone who speaks more castillian-style Spanish, which is so relieving and reassuring to hear since I can usually understand 90% of this more formal style.
Pictured: my host mom and host sister
I’ve already written too much, and since it’s still the first week of classes, I will save the explanation of my classes for next time.
Ciao!
Chilenismo of the week: al tiro: immediately, right away, very soon