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.