By rmattiola
Last Sunday, after the earth briefly shook beneath my feet (my first experience of a tremblor), I found my own thoughts and opinions shaken up a bit as well. A week ago, the program director Brian informed me that there is a strong movement amongst the Aymara (indigenous to northern Chile) to assimilate. At the time, I couldn’t understand why.
Over the past few days, I’ve been asked if I was Chilean or not—if I was a student from the US or one of the host siblings. Of course, I was ecstatic to be asked this. Blending in in a different country or culture is something that I consciously work towards and assign importance to. But why do I feel this way? Why am I happier in my dark, dark, Mediterranean skin than my porcelain American skin? Why is it that I’m almost ashamed of the attention attracted by my American body and accent? The reason is now clear: I have a preconceived notion that Americans are perceived as gluttonous, rude, obnoxious and uncultured. I am aware of my own feelings and attempts to blend in, yet I’m shocked when I hear that natives are trying to assimilate because I feel they have a history and a culture to protect.
In reality though, I’m sure they feel (and have felt for many years) just as I do now; happy to blend in and ashamed to be associated with a poorly connoted group. The indigenous live this struggle their whole life, while I will only experience it here for 4 months. So what should be done and thought about indigenous assimilation? What is ethical? Should we ignorantly allow the indigenous to assimilate so they can transcend discrimination? Should we push for measures that facilitate the maintenance of cultural ties? Or should we establish a system that enables self-empowerment and diminishes the pressure to assimilate? It’s interesting how quickly your opinion can change when you put yourself in someone else’s shoes.
Over the last week, classes have really picked up speed. We don’t have homework assignments or true exams, just readings, essays and projects.
I was placed into the 2nd of 4 levels of Spanish class with 4 other girls. The 4 Spanish professors switch classes every week. My first professor was sweet, but I was discontent with the style of the class. She lectured, showed videos, or had us read most of the time, and asked one or two questions to the students at the end of class. This style is similar to some of the Spanish classes I have already had. If I could learn Spanish this way, I already would have. My second professor used a more interactive style where the students do most of the talking and the professor is there to guide and correct. We gave mini presentations frequently, discussed opinions in groups, and played many helpful improv-style games. The prof, who quickly became more of a peer tutor, would offer corrections and tips immediately after a student spoke. This was extremely helpful, but unfortunately, we switch professors again this week. I have high hopes for the next one. The Spanish classes are held at a tiny university downtown, about a 10 minute ride on my bike.
We also have a Research Methods & Ethics class, a Traditional Medicine and Community Empowerment class, and a Public Health class, all 3 which are taught by our director, assistant director (both medical anthropologists), and/or Chilean guest lectures. The readings so far have been a bit dense, and even denser in Spanish, but the classes have been engaging, pertinent and thought-invoking. All classes are held in a comfortable lecture hall on the University of Tarapacá (UTA) campus, just across the street from my house. I’ve already spent lots of time in the UTA (pronounced ootah) library reading lectures, articles and books. We are required to maintain a Work Journal filled with detailed field notes, like a true anthropologist. We write—in Spanish—about the events, observations, interviews, feelings and judgments we experience day to day. This is time consuming, especially since it is organized in a peculiar manner, but ultimately these notes will help to synthesize a valuable research question for our concluding Independent Study Project (ISP).
Classes only last for the month of March, after which we travel to Putre (northeast of Arica) then Temuco (very very South), then Pucon, then Santiago. In each location we will hold casual classes with guest lecturers and visit the local health care centers. We have also already visited and had lectures in some of the hospitals and clinics here in Arica. After traveling, we choose a location to live and conduct our project, then compile and analyze data for just a month before returning back to Arica to present the final product. Summarizing the program like this makes it seem like it’s already over.
Although each week passes quickly, I am making the best of every day and weekend by going to semi-pro soccer games, hanging out with local surfers at the beach, exploring various markets, experiencing the night life downtown and at friend’s houses for asados (a barbeque but literally translated to smoked), attending work out classes at the university and hopefully joining a girls soccer team soon.
Pictured: some friends at the San Marcos de Arica soccer game; The Surf Spot; Asado at Lucy’s house
Next time, I’ll let you in on some of my most interesting cultural observations (women, work life, doorbells, Chilean time, dog fights and more)
Chilenismo of the week: carrete: a party (carretear: to party)
Pictured: selfie featuring our mesero (server) at a restaurant downtown