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
