Expiration Date

Ya ever feel like the weather just knows it's mid term season? Ugh.

As of Saturday spring has officially begun. The weather had been sunny and golden lately, but today I woke up and it was nothing but smog and grey for kilometers. Not even a cool breeze to speak of. Just stale grey air. Ugh.

On the bright side though, I woke up! And I'm lucky to be alive!
Yesterday evening the parents and I purchased my plane ticket home!!! and no amount of exclamation points can do justice the excitement I feel.

WE HAVE AN EXPIRATION DATE FOLKS!!! 

12/14/2012.

Cook-Fords in Chile

So after 4 short days in Buenos Aires the parents and I hopped a plane back to Santiago so I could show them around my southern hemisphere home. We hit all the best restaurants, saw all the major sights, and even managed a little day trip out to the coastal city of Valparaiso.

As I am losing a bit of steam on the blogging front I solicited the Parents for some things that struck them while visiting that I may have stopped noticing by now. Here are some of their keen little spots:

·        Buenos Aires seems like a big European city as long as you keep your eyes level or cast upward.  If you look down, the street and sidewalk pavements are in really bad shape.  When strolling in BA, you really need to pay attention to where you’re putting your feet.  Between the holes, the protruding rebar, the broken curbs and the missing cobblestones it’s a challenge to stay upright.

·        Yes, picking up dog doo-doo is disgusting, but it’s less disgusting than leaving it all over the city.

·        The BA citizens look quite European, but there aren’t too many blondes.  I dunno how those women walk around all day in those high heels?

·        What’s with the stray dogs everywhere?  Those little guys need homes…

·        Santiago seems tidy compared to BA, and the pavements are top notch.

·        What’s with the stray dogs everywhere?  Seeing a bunch of sleepy old hounds strewn around the plazas at La Moneda was a hoot – some of them were sleeping at the feet of the palace guards, who were  perfectly accepting.

·        The taxi system in Santiago is the best – zillions of them, relatively inexpensive, and the drivers usually seem to know how to get where you want to go.

·        Yes, please, beef seven days a week works fine in South America, but I was sure craving noodles when I got home.

·        It was a luxury to travel in Argentina and Chile with someone who could speak the language so well (ah shucks!)

·        Hector (our tour guide in Valparaíso) was the greatest – we learned a lot from him

My dad is exceedingly right about Buenos Aires. It was beautiful but everyday that we were there the streets in San Telmo looked as if it was trash pick up day except a group of teenagers with tennis rackets had gotten there first. The pavement disaster is no exaggeration either and a majority of the women insist on stomping the streets in high heels.

Santiago is much tidier than Buenos Aires but, in my opinion, it lacks some of the charm. It's a great city to live in because it's just foreign enough with the language barrier, the backwards seasons, and the different pace of life, but it doesn't really feel exotic.

That didn't stop anyone in my crew from having a great time though. Honestly, I had been missing my parents so much that we could have gotten rained in at the airport for 5 days and I would have had fun. That's not what happened though:

Parents on Cerro Santa Lucia
There are two hills that jut out of the center of downtown, Cerro Santa Lucia and Cerro San Cristobal. Both are little green outposts with look outs and fountains that provide a nice refuge from the concrete when you need it. 

At the foot of Cerro San Cristobal is the Bella Vista neighborhood where all us adolescents go to party. During the day it's crawling with tourist traps. $4 for a photo with an alpaca suddenly becomes a bargain when you steal the alpaca...

On our way to visit Valparaíso our awesome guide, Hector, took us up the hillside to look out over the valleys that house some Chile's vineyards. Chile is a growing presence in the WWWoW (World Wide World of Wine), and the only place that produces a delicious variety called Carmenère. 

In Valparaíso, I was pleased to discover that after all this time my parents still like each other. 

And I still like both of them. 

Dear Mom and Dad,
Can you come back now? Or better yet, can I?
Love,
Annie

Coming up next: I trade my Mom and Dad for Sydney and Sam...

Let's play a game!

So one thing that rules about spending extended amounts of time on a different continent is that you can begin to dip a toe in the pool of intracontinental perceptions. "Intracontinental" meaning within the continent. (Does it cost anyone else heavily to keep straight the difference between inter- and intra-? I have to indulge in a dictionary refresher about once every 3 months because I start to doubt myself... totally alone on this one? ...screw you guys)

In addition to how we (los Estado Unidenses) perceive/ stereotype/ judge the countries of Latin America, they also perceive/stereotype/judge each other. It's an interesting dynamic because they all seem to be aware that the rest of the world rarely considers each country on its own. Unless there is some egregious human rights violation or exceptionally progressive change happening in one of them, the countries of Latin America are treated mostly as just Latin America by the rest of the world. Consequently we often stereotype the continent as a whole, as opposed to just Paraguay on its own (How many of you just had an "aha!" moment when you remembered that Paraguay existed just now? My point exactly.)

So what I've learned from being here is that, at the very least Chile and probably many of the other countries of Latin America perceive the inhabitants of Buenos Aires as "holier than thou." And obviously by holier I mean more European. As far as I can tell the venom is directed mostly at people living in BA rather than Argentina at large. You'll hear sometimes people with elevated, wrinkled noses do a mocking impression of someone from BA talking about how "Yes, they were born and raised in Argentina but actually their family is Italian." It's odd for me considering that if say I I'm from the U.S. people often find this answer to be inadequate and need to know where the different sides of my family came from before they got there. Apparently that kind of stuff can get you a bad rep down here.

It is not totally unfounded however, this notion of Buenos Aires being closely linked to Europe. In many areas Buenos Aires could easily pass for Paris. Thus I have a challenge for you all. It's called: Which city is this? Below you'll find pictures I took on the streets of Buenos Aires and in the famous Cementerio Recoleta mixed with pictures I either took or snagged off the internet of the gorgeousPère Lachaise cementary in France. I've converted them all into black/white to level the playing field a bit. Go ahead and see if you can guess which city is which.

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

10.

Answers: Photos 2, 7, and 10 are of Paris. The rest are Buenos Aires. Did I fool anyone?

Next we will move onto the parents' arrival in Chile!

Survival Guilt

The thing most people in the Motherland forget about being abroad is how hard it is. There is a (not unjustified) prevailing attitude that people living abroad, especially college kids, are living it up spring break Cancún style every minute of every day.

via brandvomit.com

Actually is it's more like spring break Las Vegas... but the similarities are definitely there.

The real truth is that some days all I can do is survive.

I have always known that in the grand scheme of my life 11 months abroad is very little time. And especially now that I'm down to the final four, the importance of taking advantage of every moment seems that much more pronounced. "CARPE DIEM!" I bellow as I catapult out of bed each day! "Carpe diem!" echoes my peanut gallery of friends and fam. "Life is short! Live each day to the fullest!"
I'd love to.

Some days though, no matter how many birds chirp or how much sun shines, the best I can do is survive. Certain days that motto of "carpe diem" sounds like mocking and weighs like an anvil. On those days I know I have a terrible case of survival guilt; a particular breed of guilt found commonly among kids abroad on their parents' dime, and survivors of traumatic events. Basically it's the knowledge that you're extremely lucky to be alive and be wherever you are, doing what ever you're doing and should therefore make the most of it, coupled with the inability to actually do anything but the bare minimum that is required of you that day... and sometimes even the inability to do that. Where this inability stems from depends on the person, the day, and the situation. Sometimes it's identifiable, combatable, and temporary; sometimes it's elusive, shape shifting, and resilient. Most simply put: it's the guilt you feel (in an incredible place or life) when the only thing you're able to do is survive. Today seemed like a fitting day to bring this up because 1) I woke up with a terrible case. 2) If this is something that occurs among my other fellow humans, I imagine it is more prevalent on a day like September 11 when we remember a tragedy.

I stole this from Pinterest. photographer: unknown.

Turns out September 11 is an internationally shitty day. In Chile, September 11 marks the anniversary of the military coup that usurped Salvador Allende. In the past it has been a day of anger and rioting. It's bad enough that I received multiple warnings against leaving my apartment today any time in the afternoon. I am hoping to dedicate an entire post to what I've learned about the dictatorship later on, but for now I will just say that for many Chileans (pretty much anybody over 30) the dictatorship happened yesterday. In historical terms, the violence, the fear, the restrictions, the hiding... all of the realities of living under Pinochet ended approximately 20 minutes ago. In other words, the wound is still very very very fresh.
Every Chilean over the age of 30 is a survivor of that difficult portion in the country's history and therefore a reminder that things could (and did) change at a moments notice so it's important to take advantage of the good things we have now.

I'd offer that our September 11th tragedy serves as a very similar reminder.

And while it's good to be reminded to "live each day like it's your last," it's not always possible. Even though I'm in the midst of a grand adventure, one in which I should be living each day to the absolute fullest, sometimes the best I can do is survive.

So in case you know what I'm talking about, or you find yourself with the same guilty feeling in the future, remember that I know how it is. And if there is anything I can do to aid you in your survival LET ME KNOW.
______________________________________________________________________

To close: Here is a picture of me smiling with an alpaca...ya know, just to keep the ending lite.
:)
Fin. 

The Source

What seems now like a very long time ago (July 14th to be exact), the source of my crazy, these fools:

 

came to visit me in South America. Just when school was out, my friends were starting to leave, and I thought I was ready to go home the Cook-Fords swooped in to rejuvenate my life. I am one of those unicorn kids that thinks my parents are the greatest things to happen since Wonderbread™. Their visit did not disappoint. 

We began with a tearful rendezvous at gate 16 of the Santiago airport. It's a pretty overwhelming feeling to be reunited with your favorite people on the planet after being away from them for 7 months. (Precautionary warning: I'm probably going to dissolve into a puddle of human upon getting home and getting to see all my friends and loved ones back in the Bay; mops, rain boots, and other things of the waterproof variety strongly recommended.)

The reunion took place against the scenic backdrop of smog and maroon triangle carpeting because we are departing immediately for Buenos Aires, Argentina.  It was all of our first time.

We rented an apartment in the San Telmo district of BA, and kicked off the trip with a FABULOUS dinner at Café Rivas.

apéritifs rule!

For anyone going to BA in the semi near future I highly recommend you stay in San Telmo. It's the oldest district in the city, the birth place of tango, and abundant in old european charm. Palermo Viejo and Palermo Soho are the business when it comes to shopping [Vogue named Buenos Aires an up-and-coming fashion capital back in, I think, 2007] but if you stay there 1) you'll never leave the area 2) you won't feel like you went anywhere foreign, ergo San Telmo.

Then the parentals and I set about getting to know the city. I was nervous because it was the first time all hopes for verbal communication were resting on my shoulders. Previously I had been sure to drag poor Isela with me wherever I went, just in case. 

We visited La Casa Rosada, the Argentine equivalent of the White House...

Gawked at some nifty antiques at the weekly market in San Telmo... (I've never lamented not having my own house to decorate as much as I did on this trip to Argentina)

We even met an icon!

Ladies and germs, meet Mafalda. Mafalda is a beloved magazine/newspaper cartoon strip character known for her sass and her insightful and expository questions regarding the state of the world. She's not exactly political but she certainly depicts a point of view. In my humble opinion she kicks @$$.

"Ok, and how does one put this on a soul?"

"Democracy: (def.) A government in which the public exerts sovereignty."

Mom: What are you playing kids?

Mafalda: Government!

Mom: Well okay, just don't make a mess!

Mafalda: Dont worry, we're not going to do absolutely anything.

Mafalda: But... why do I have to do it?

Mom: Because I ordered you to do it and I am your MOTHER!!

Mafalda: If it's a question of titles, I am your DAUGHTER!! And we took on these roles the same day, right?!!

The problem with the family of mankind is that everyone wants to be the father.

We'll be back with more on the parent's visit to Argentina/ Chile after this brief message from our sponsor...

Don't you just love 'em?

 P.S. I didn't proofread this. Sorry. 

Sit Tight

Someday I'll come back to this blog and tell you something. Until then, here is a picture.

All pictures of San Pedro de Atacama

Because we deserve to laugh together...

The World Wide Web privileged me with this little nugget today:

alanaldas:

"my grasp on the english language ranges from college professor to drunk walrus"

For me this is exceedingly true, and after struggling with a second language I have to acknowledge what a privilege it is to have such range.