By rmattiola
My first week in Temuco has flown by too quickly. I am conducting my independent research project here in the south, with the city of Temuco as my basepoint and the towns of Makewe, Puerto Saavedra and Nuevo Imperial as the study centers. The three SIT girls in Temuco are the first group to stay within the city. One girl opted for a cheap hostel as her monthly residence. Sarah and I took up an offer to stay with the family of our friendly bus driver from when we traveled the south a month ago. This is my fourth host family. Originally, I was hoping to rent an apartment on airbnb with the other girls in order to have the most independence and be able to cook for myself, but I figured if given the opportunity to speak more Spanish, I should take it. Also the bus driver, don Pepe was probably the nicest, coolest gentleman we’ve traveled with. I struck gold with this decision. The living situation is perfect. Sarah and I are staying in a gorgeous new apartment in the University district of Temuco. Our host mom, Cecilia, don Pepe’s sister, is a statistician and a math professor at 3 different universities (there are 5 all within a 10 minute drive of the apartment). She is obviously a successful woman, but clearly works hard for her success. I arrived Tuesday evening and did not meet her until Saturday morning. She leaves the apartment by 7am and does not return until of after 11pm. I awoke with a congested head Wednesday morning, and was asleep before 10:30pm the rest of the week. On Saturday I kicked the worst of the cold and was eager to meet Cecilia.
Cecilia’s mom, Maria stays in the apartment in the morning and at night. She had a stroke from a brain tumor a little over a year ago and completed chemotherapy in September. She is recovering and has a helper who comes to the apartment in the morning to do rehabilitation. In the afternoon, Pepe or his twin Carlos, come to the apartment to take their mom to their house (her house) just 3 blocks away. She spends the afternoon there with their dog in the warm wood-heated kitchen. Sarah and I usually make breakfast and lunch for ourselves in the apartment, do work or go to conferences/ lectures in the day and go to “the house” at 7pm or 8pm for once with Maria, Carlos, Pepe and usually various other family friends who are visiting Maria. I am very impressed with Maria’s recovery. She can walk on her own with the support of a cane and round-sole shoes, and she holds conversations completely normally. I am so grateful to spend time with her. Something about her warm face, incredible perseverance, grandmotherly hospitality, beautiful smile and wholehearted laugh reminds me of my grandma. I think she is amused by Sarah and I and probably as happy to host us as we are to be hosted by her. Carlos is equally kind and likes to practice English with us as we prepare once together.
Saturday morning when I finally met Cecilia, I was impressed again by her energy. She explained that this week was crazy for her--very busy and she still has to do some things with her mother but wants to take Sarah and I out to explore the city that evening before once. So we met at “the house” and then spent over an hour in her car driving around Temuco, chatting, getting to know each other, walking around the college campuses she teaches in (the universities she works at are very modern and big compared to others I’ve seen in Chile), and even stopping to get smoothies and ice cream coffees. She is incredibly kind, welcoming, intelligent and friendly. When she first spoke to me, in Chilean, she recognized I wasn’t understanding everything and asked, “Do you understand me?” At this point, when people ask me this, I am brutally honest. I answer, “A little”. So the rest of the day she spoke Castellan, the well-enunciated and projected form of Spanish which I can understand completely. I am so grateful for her effort. It’s gotten very frustrating to recognize that I know Spanish—I can read it, write it and speak it without struggle, but when I listen to cashiers, waiters, and bus drivers, I have little to no clue what they’re saying.
On Wednesday I had my first meeting with my project advisor, Andrés Cuyul, an anthropologist, public health specialist, and social worker who focuses on Mapuche health. He is working on a 10-year-long PhD and just had a baby 2 weeks ago. He’s obviously a busy man, yet he seems so dedicated to working with me and another student, Maya for our research project. The best way to describe him is engaged. He was actively interested in our work, which closely resembles his own work, and has already provided valuable advice and tips. As we sat in an office in the public health building of the University de la Frontera (UFro), he took a hot water flask and a small pot from his leather bag. I’ve seen these sorts of pots and straw spoons before and recognized it as a mate pot. As he spoke, he filled the pot with mate and paused to describe the activity. It is a communal activity. He covers the mate with hot water, sips from the straw that has a built-in filter, and then passes it to us. We take 3 or 4 sips and pass it back. Then he’ll refill it with water and start again. Due to my love for tea and cultural participation, it was hard for me to turn this gesture down, explaining that I had a cold. Still, I was appreciative of this symbolic sharing that automatically created a situation of friendship and mutual respect, even leveling the power structure between students and professor.
Just before leaving our meeting, I asked him if he thought the language barrier would be a problem for me and Maya. “No”, he said, “you speak well”. I explained how it’s hard to appear friendly and respectful in a different language. His advice: “a smile changes everything. It says a lot even if you think it doesn’t”.
So in summary, it's safe to say I like it here. It's the first place that I feel comfortable enough to say I could live here. There are plenty of trees. Beautiful buildings. Familiar college campuses and bars. Grass lawns and all the flowers I miss from Pennsylvania.
High of the week: seeing the apartment for the first time and being blown away
Low of the week: having a scratchy throat, watering nose, swollen tonsils and inflated head for the 3rd time in Chile
Chilenismo of the week: no más: no more, nothing else, just this: liberally tacked on to ends of sentences here in the south, even more than po
Example: Siéntense, no más. Just have a seat.