A conversation that sums up the nature of Chilean life:


Me: "Victor Domingo Silva, Pedro de Valdivia, Diego de Almadro, Eduardo Castillo Vasquez... The street names in this city are so long and difficult to remember!"
Stefie: "Not only that, but often the same street changes names 3 times without changing direction!"
Me: "That doesn't make any sense, why would the city planners do that?"
Stefie: "Pues, los Chilenos les gustan las cosas complicadas. I guess Chileans just like complicated things."


Amen, sister!

Humility, Take Two

It happened again. I swore I learned my lesson, but just when I least expected it, I found myself in the same place I was last summer... humbled. I let my pride swell so large it popped in my face (imagine, shall we, this metaphor in the form of a water balloon popping instead of a zit popping, as I realize the illustration might illicit. Ew.).

My painting class really is getting the best of me. My painting class! Since last

week's fear, I went into the day with a new air of confidence, my first sketch in

hand and a stronger sense of direction. But when I walked into the room, that

popping thing happened, and I realized I misunderstood the homework

completely. The other students were proudly displaying their large, fully done, oil

on canvas masterpieces, while I, hot and red, taped my 8x10" sketch to an easel. We had to do a full painting in seven days? No lo entendí. And then, after

critiquing the other student's beautiful and thoughtful work, I had to explain to

my whole class, TA and professor-- while trying to salvage any bit of dignity-- that I did not understand the assignment but did have an idea for a painting... "Yes but where is this idea on this dinky piece of paper?" Um... how do you say... um... Fail. My Spanish turned to gibberish, my confidence disappeared, my artistic intention failed...

I actually did indeed want to die at that moment.

I walked slash RAN out of the classroom at the end of the 5 hours never wanting

to show my sorry American face to those people ever again. And while I still feel

this way, I do realize that embarrassment-- no shame-- this deep always comes

with a lesson. I forgot what it was like to be humbled, and I needed a little dose.

You think you know everything and don't need help, not even from God? BAM,

not so much. Déjà vu, Philippines!

So now, I'm back to knowing nothing. And it's not this pathetic, I-can't-handle myself, knowing nothing. Rather, it's an attitude change towards being more

open to saying, "I need help, I don't have it all together, and I am not a Chilean

superstar." And from here you can only go up, and the pressure is off to be so

perfect. Lesson learned!

"We do not want to be beginners. But let us be convinced of the fact that we will

never be anything else but beginners, all of our life!"

-Thomas Merton

BANANO BABY

(Dedicated to my Mom who didn't quite believe my fanny pack was rockin')

And you can bet, I'm bringin' it back to the States.

Happy One Month (and 5 days) Chile

To celebrate our anniversary, here are some tid-bits of my journey thus far, (thanks to my dinkster camera):

Salud!

"Everybody thinks of changing humanity and nobody thinks of changing himself." 
-Leo Tolstoy

100% Stereotype, 100% Silly

Big moustaches + Tex Mex burritos =  (obvi) 100% Mexican

(An advertisement from a Chilean woman's magazine. Oh the cultural implications of this ad...)

Scared(?)

For this first time in all of my abroad experiences, today I was scared.

We didn’t have another aftershock or blackout (like last night, all throughout the country for over 3 hours).

I went to a new campus and a new class, all by myself today. No other foreigners. Got lost. Arrive late. Found classroom, door was locked. Asked several people many times where to go, what to do. Finally found classroom only to discover the class was postponed, so then waited for a half hour in a small room with only the professor and TA. When class finally started, I didn’t know what was going on since I missed the first week. Then I was asked a question in front of the small class of Chileans and didn’t know the answer, and thus was super embarrassed. 

All of this is silly first-day stuff that I haven’t dealt with since first day of high school. It’s really nothing to be scared of. But being completely alone in a new country, the sensation of feeling lost and not understanding or being understood, is indeed frightening. I am not saying I can relate exactly to immigrants through this simple experience, but in a way I can image how difficult it must to be to move to a brand new country. Now I know that immigrating takes such courage, and why ex-pats from any country group together so closely abroad. It is just simply a matter of being scared. And understandably so. Plus it doesn't help that a lot of the people in the new country are sometimes scared of you as a foreigner.

I really probably shouldn't complain about being lost on this campus though, it is the most beautiful place I've ever gone to study. It is the arts campus for La Católica is absolutely picturesque. Think The Secret Garden + Hogwarts (including the hidden tunnels and rooms) + Virgin Mary statues: 

 Definitely more photos of Campus Orientes to come.

Eat, Pray, Love

I have a slightly embarrassing confession: I just finished my first New York Times Bestseller, Eat, Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, and I liked it. Actually, kind of a lot. Don’t judge me. My English professor had recommended it to me, so hey that gives it/me some credibility, right?

As suggested in the title, Gilbert tells her story of traveling to Italy (Eat), India (Pray), and Indonesia (Love) as a form of life and identity recovery after a messy divorce. Drama, silliness, and cheesy one-liners ensue, and in the end she comes out of the other end a new and more fulfilled person. Not exactly surprising. But oh so entertaining for a long plane ride.

What I found most interesting throughout the book was the author’s intense and deep desire for God. Early in her book, she describes an “ah-ha” moment, where she first cries out and hears from God crying on her bathroom floor before her divorce. From then on, she begins her search for God/god in the form of yoga, meditation, chanting, praying, journaling, adopting a guru, etc. While this soul searching is nothing new and very human, I have never really heard someone describe the desire to find/have/be in a relationship with God they way she did. Furthermore, as a Christian, I have never seen/read this kind of longing in a non-Christian before (while she claims God—monotheistic, capital G—her beliefs are very much a mix of religions and philosophies, and she clearly states she does not mean God just in the Judeo-Christian sense). It was beautiful and inspiring to me to feel her yearning, because so often, unless in desperate times, I forgot what this yearning is like.

“I just want God. I want God inside me. I want God to play inside my bloodstream the way the sun amuses itself on water.”

-Pg. 176

But then, I was also confused. When she talks about God, His love, her relationship to him, I am in such agreement with her. Perhaps it is my ignorance, but it is not common for me to find such a deep connection to words describing a God other than my own. The way she speaks of God is so very Christian, so Biblical to me, yet she not speaking of the same Biblical God I know.

“God is, ‘L’amour che move il sole e l’ature stele…’ The love that moves the sun and the stars.’”

-Pg. 46, cited from Dante’s Divine Comedy

“Prayer is a relationship; half the job is mine.”

-Pg. 177

“YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW STRONG MY LOVE IS!”

–Pg. 158, what God told her

“Our whole business therefore in this life is to restore to health the eye of the heart whereby which God may be seen.”

-Pg. 123, quoted from St. Augustine (ok yes, he’s a Christian)

I believe that God uses anything and everything to teach you, bring you closer to Him, and this is just another example of God using something rather silly on the surface—a guilty pleasure memoir—to challenge my faith and ideas about Him. I learned a lot from this book! So even if I don’t agree theologically with Gilbert, I still take away strong inspiration for my own walk with God. It left me wanting to bring more prayer, mediation, and passion into my faith.

Which led me to my next book, the complete opposite of this book—The Celebration of Discipline (thanks Tarah!). Ha! 

And to finish with this thought:

“There are only 2 questions that human beings have ever fought over, all through history: “How much do you love me?” And, “Who’s in charge?”

-P. 157, quoted from an old lady

Aftershock Rattles Presidential Innaguration

Just felt the biggest aftershock yet-- a 7.2-- during my appointment with the art department. There were 2, the first I was indoors and evacuated with everyone else, the second I was outside on a bench. It's so crazy to be outside because you feel it much more strongly and can literally hear the earth rumble in a deep bass. This one, unlike the countless others we have felt since Feb. 27th, actually scared me again. Classes and activities are cancelled for the day.


Interestingly and symbollically, it also rattled the ceremonial innaguration of the new president, Sebastián Piñera. Here is a link to the NY Times article: NY Times Article

First Week of Class...

...was stressful. Still is. After discovering so many obstacles I will have to climb through to take the classes I need, I was very down. But to lift me up, God gave the gifts of these views from one of the campuses of Universidad Católica. Flags at half mast to show respect for the deaths and tragedy from the earthquake, the Andes glowing at sunset, me walking alone towards it all. It restored my soul.