Dear Friend,
It’s a Sunday afternoon, so naturally nothing is happening. I’m outside on my new patio listening to the birds flit around in the ivy and the bush next to the pond. I don’t know what kind of bush it is. It has leaves.
It’s a shady patio. It only gets a few hours of sun a day since it’s enclosed by our apartment building. But when it does get sun it’s amazing. When it doesn’t get sun, it’s just a really nice patio. I imagine it being a prime location for parties some night in the future.
My new apartment is splendidly imperfect. I can’t complain about the neighborhood. It’s tucked away off of the main, downtown avenue but still extremely close to the center of the city. I ran through the capital last week; it wasn’t too great since it’s congested as eff, but regardless it was an experience to say that I went on a run… through the nation’s capital. And I live 3 minutes away. The building is super old. The streets are made of cobble stone and everything is really antique-like. I can roll with that, though, it has nice character. It’s a very international neighborhood. There aren’t that many Chileans, which is unfortunate, but there are people from everywhere. I live with a guy form England, a guy from Germany and a guy from California. Despite them not being native Spanish speakers, which is a slight turn-off, I am being exposed to different cultures and different people, which, at the heart of my study abroad experience, is what I’m looking for.
The apartment is self is actually kind of big, thanks to some remodeling. Our kitchen isn’t huge, but we each have our own rooms and we have a nice living room with comfy sofas and chairs. Positive: I have my own bathroom. Negative: My room’s windows open up to the wall of my roommate’s room. Shoddy remodeling plans. Positive: We have lots of windows and doors to the patio. Negative: They’re single pained and without door-jams.
But what’s a definite positive is that I can walk to class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Save some money, burn some calories… that’s called efficiency.
Since I moved from living with a family, I basically had to start from scratch as far as food and amenities go. My trip to the outdoor market with $25 yielded a ton of fruits and veggies: apples, bananas, oranges, kiwis, lemons, cilantro, zucchini, cucumber, onion, carrots and more. It’s ridiculous.
While I write to you, friend, my body feels so old. So incredibly tired and sore. Why? Because yesterday was the Ultra Marathon of the Andes 2009 in Santiago. Me and some teammates from school went up into the hills and raced what the event organizers call “North Face’s Endurance Challenge.” I ran 10K (6.25 miles) and won. It was nuts. It was awesome. I was super pumped. I got free North Face shoes and a Gore Tex duffel bag. And a head lamp. With batteries. (Results- http://www.ultramaratondelosandes.cl/resultados.html -- Listado por distancia-- 10K Masculino) (Photos of the race in general - http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=560830685#/album.php?aid=148049&id=95079952639&ref=mf and http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=560830685#/album.php?aid=148205&id=95079952639 )
The race categories included 5K, 10K, 21K (half marathon), 50K and 80K. Cesar got 2nd in his category and 3rd overall in the 21K and Nacho got 3rd overall in the 50K. Beast. He started at 5 a.m. and finished a little after 11 a.m. Over 6 hours of running. Sounds enticing, right? The 80K competitors started at 2 a.m. Ick.
The winner was a guy from Massachusetts who runs for team North Face. I talked to him and his wife after the race for a bit (gringo connection). I think her name was Lisa… or Linda… maybe, I can’t remember. Regardless, she knew where Monson is. Shout out to the Sweeneys!
The first 3 men and women in the 80k and 50k races got money as well as other prizes. I was holding out for my check for a long time until I found out had to have run one of those races. Boo that.
But overall the race was fantastic. It was really hard. I was shuffling up the mountainside wheezing. And I admit/confess/confide in you that I walked for about 50 meters. I’m not proud of it. But I did it. Running in that countryside in the hills was such a good experience, though. To be out of the city running in trees and grasses and over creeks and alongside cows and through groups of horses… I want to go back and explore.
So those are the two big things that have been going on in my life. School ends in about 6 weeks. I’m pumped more than you can believe. I’m going to plan my first vacation trip up North today or tomorrow.
Also! Check out some work I’ve been doing with the Revolver Magazine (www.santiagomagazine.cl). I haven’t written anything significant yet, but I have a few stories in progress and some photos in their albums.
Carnaval Album: http://photos.santiagomagazine.cl/main.php?g2_view=slideshow.Slideshow&g2_itemId=12815
Feria Album: http://photos.santiagomagazine.cl/main.php/v/venues/Ortuzar+Feria/
Event Preview: http://www.santiagomagazine.cl/index.php/en/agenda/featured-events/23-agenda/416-preview-panic-at-the-disco.html
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Long Week
Hello Friend,
Grown men with their arms around each other’s necks jumped in unison and sang their battle cries in the stands at the Stadium San Carlos de Apoquindo last night. When I say “sang,” I should probably clarify that the chants at fútbol games exist somewhere between a normal yell and a song. Where the two meet, you get a hoarse, tone-deaf sound that vaguely carries a tune.
The irony about the whole thing is that you have half of a stadium full of dudes waving flags, hugging each other and singing in unison about how the other team is “gay.”
My first fútbol game was full of surprises and education into the Chilean sport culture. It started on the bus ride to the stadium when I naively took my seat amongst a bus full… literally full… people hanging out the windows and the doors…all “Cruzados,” or fans of La Católica. I sat looking out the windows wondering how long it would take to get to the stadium when a lonely voice somewhere behind me shouted “Oooooooh soy Cruzadooooooo,” and then the rest of the bus exploded in completing the song while people banged on the bus walls and doors creating a sloppy percussion beat to accompany their lyrics.
One of the biggest signs of a good fútbol team in Chile is the size and personality of their “hinchada”… their crew, their club, their fan base. If you represent Colo-Colo, you’re fundamentally different than the fans of La U (de Chile), and you’re perhaps even more different than the hinchada of La Católica. These three teams are undoubtedly the country’s best teams, but when it comes to choosing sides, things get dicey. The teams regularly compete against each other for the championship in whatever tournament they’re competing in. Although I might be a Cruzado at heart, it’s obvious that Colo-Colo and the University of Chile’s fútbol teams are the two best in Chile; but don’t tell that to the hinchada of La Católica.
“Los Cruzados,” as they are called, show up to La Católica games dressed in their crisp white jerseys and scarves, waving flags and shouting their chants, just like most hinchadas. And like any good fan base, they’re always ready to talk shit to the referees, the other team’s goal keeper or even to each other.
Pride, undying spirit, an unnatural obsession for fútbol- any of those things, or maybe all of those things, describe a true Cruzado.
By the end of the game, La Católica won 5-1 against the Rangers. It’s really funny to hear some Chileans say the word “rangers” because they can sometimes sound like Alpha from Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers.
My Friday trip to the stadium was a nice break from the long week I had.
In school, I had my hardest day yet of the semester. I first bombed a test in my Media Ethics class. There were two essay questions- one I answered completely, I feel, and the second was on a current event which I had heard nothing of. My professor was kind enough to let me write about a different event, but it was really embarrassing to consider myself a “journalism student” and not have heard about this significant piece of news. In all reality, it wasn’t that significant. A sportscaster’s son committed suicide. It’s tragic and awful, but really… he’s a sportscaster. Maybe I need to let go of some of my American presuppositions about what is important and what’s not. Like the Olympics. If you’re seriously one of the people hung up on the fact that Chicago missed out on hosting the 2016 games, we might need to talk.
Regardless, after apologizing to my professor as I handed in my test, I then went to my literature class where I handed in a 12-page paper that my group and I wrote on Jewish and Lebanese literature in Mexico and its messages of immigration being a shared experience in community and isolation. We then gave a presentation, in Spanish, during which I think I saw a few Chilean students shake their heads at my poor use of grammar.
Aside from that, I was running around looking at apartments in between and after classes. I finally settled on a cool place in El Centro with other international students. I’ll for sure post pics after I move in next week.
Until next time.
Grown men with their arms around each other’s necks jumped in unison and sang their battle cries in the stands at the Stadium San Carlos de Apoquindo last night. When I say “sang,” I should probably clarify that the chants at fútbol games exist somewhere between a normal yell and a song. Where the two meet, you get a hoarse, tone-deaf sound that vaguely carries a tune.
The irony about the whole thing is that you have half of a stadium full of dudes waving flags, hugging each other and singing in unison about how the other team is “gay.”
My first fútbol game was full of surprises and education into the Chilean sport culture. It started on the bus ride to the stadium when I naively took my seat amongst a bus full… literally full… people hanging out the windows and the doors…all “Cruzados,” or fans of La Católica. I sat looking out the windows wondering how long it would take to get to the stadium when a lonely voice somewhere behind me shouted “Oooooooh soy Cruzadooooooo,” and then the rest of the bus exploded in completing the song while people banged on the bus walls and doors creating a sloppy percussion beat to accompany their lyrics.
One of the biggest signs of a good fútbol team in Chile is the size and personality of their “hinchada”… their crew, their club, their fan base. If you represent Colo-Colo, you’re fundamentally different than the fans of La U (de Chile), and you’re perhaps even more different than the hinchada of La Católica. These three teams are undoubtedly the country’s best teams, but when it comes to choosing sides, things get dicey. The teams regularly compete against each other for the championship in whatever tournament they’re competing in. Although I might be a Cruzado at heart, it’s obvious that Colo-Colo and the University of Chile’s fútbol teams are the two best in Chile; but don’t tell that to the hinchada of La Católica.
“Los Cruzados,” as they are called, show up to La Católica games dressed in their crisp white jerseys and scarves, waving flags and shouting their chants, just like most hinchadas. And like any good fan base, they’re always ready to talk shit to the referees, the other team’s goal keeper or even to each other.
Pride, undying spirit, an unnatural obsession for fútbol- any of those things, or maybe all of those things, describe a true Cruzado.
By the end of the game, La Católica won 5-1 against the Rangers. It’s really funny to hear some Chileans say the word “rangers” because they can sometimes sound like Alpha from Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers.
My Friday trip to the stadium was a nice break from the long week I had.
In school, I had my hardest day yet of the semester. I first bombed a test in my Media Ethics class. There were two essay questions- one I answered completely, I feel, and the second was on a current event which I had heard nothing of. My professor was kind enough to let me write about a different event, but it was really embarrassing to consider myself a “journalism student” and not have heard about this significant piece of news. In all reality, it wasn’t that significant. A sportscaster’s son committed suicide. It’s tragic and awful, but really… he’s a sportscaster. Maybe I need to let go of some of my American presuppositions about what is important and what’s not. Like the Olympics. If you’re seriously one of the people hung up on the fact that Chicago missed out on hosting the 2016 games, we might need to talk.
Regardless, after apologizing to my professor as I handed in my test, I then went to my literature class where I handed in a 12-page paper that my group and I wrote on Jewish and Lebanese literature in Mexico and its messages of immigration being a shared experience in community and isolation. We then gave a presentation, in Spanish, during which I think I saw a few Chilean students shake their heads at my poor use of grammar.
Aside from that, I was running around looking at apartments in between and after classes. I finally settled on a cool place in El Centro with other international students. I’ll for sure post pics after I move in next week.
Until next time.
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