Today S. looked a little stressed so I asked what was wrong.
His response:
"Honey, I'm only worried about two things in life...money and Swine Flu."
Email from a kind reader:
Hello Kyle,Where have you been? I miss reading your new post @ your blog. can't wait for updates.
Tomorrow I have a photo shoot in La Serena with Mr. and Miss Rye Bread!!! I'm so excited to get out of Santiago for a little bit and see some new places and meet some cool new people. I love shooting in cities I've never been to, it's always great inspiration to see something with fresh eyes.
As I sit here on my couch, literally gasping for air and using and abusing my inhaler, a smog free weekend is sounding pretty damn good right about now. Plus, just checked the weather forecast -- sunny and 60 degrees sounds like perfect weather for a photo shoot. :)
I have another wedding to blog pretty soon, and when I get back I promised Miss Rye Bread I'd put a rush on her pictures so she can get her Save-the Dates out for the wedding, so lots of eye candy coming to my photography blog soon! In the mean time, feast your eyes on my latest Brazilian bride and her Chilean husband!
PS. Send me safe flight vibes, I hate flying alone!!!!
Comment when yours is up and I'll add your link!
Sara: What happens in Puerto Rico stays in Puerto Rico.
Aimee: Mumbai changed her perspective on life.
Clare: Nightmare travels in Romania.
Heather: Discovered an interesting culture within a culture in the U.S. in a small town.
Renee: Her greatest hits in travel.
Shannon: A walk down memory lane back to when summer vacation was the only thing on a kid's mind.
Lydia: A wild Brazilian goose hunt all for a tambourine.
Abby: Her very exotic travels in...Canada!
Lauren: You won't believe me but her adventures involve a bidet shower and alpacas.
Emily: An actual travel story in Chile, finally!
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Since this group blog post is a pretty open theme -- Travel Experiences -- I've decided to post mine on the hostels we stayed at while traveling through Costa Rica for two weeks. I actually took this from the travel blog I started specifically for that trip.
S., please don't read beyond this. Thank you. :)
I MUST BUY HIM THIS TOY!!!!!!!!!!! (Says the girl who's income has just been cut in half).
It is a camera that you put on your dog's collar so you can have a little video of what life is like from his or her eyes. As blog readers may or may not have realized, S. and I are obsessed with Papito. And S.'s other favorite thing in the world is technology and gadget stuff. It's ideal! I'm pretty sure Papito wants it too so she can show us what she does while we're out. :)
Thanks to Julia Alison's blog for the genius idea.
Here's another topic that is bound to come up at one point or another amongst the expat crowd -- being homesick.
"I miss my friends."
"I miss my family."
"I miss ____ (fill in name of hometown or college city)."
It happens to most, if not all of us at some point or another. The longing to be with people who know us in a place that's familiar becomes overwhelming.
I don't get homesick often, but when I do it runs me over harder than a micro barreling down Alameda on a poor kiltro (stray dog) wandering in the middle of the road. Missing all those things can be a black hole that's hard to crawl out of. You start to wonder what your life would be like if you lived somewhere else. You start to idealize the people you used to know and the places you used to go. You start to focus on only what was in the past, forgetting to appreciate what you have in the here and now.
I've learned too important things that help me deal with being homesick.
1. Nobody is ever homesick forever -- or at least nobody I know. You might feel a strong urge to go back home for a while, but it will pass. Yes, the age old wisdom really is true, "This too shall pass." Eventually you'll start to appreciate your life as is again, instead of wishing you were somewhere else. And if you have been homesick for an inordinate amount of time, maybe that just means you really should go back. But, homesickness for me has always passed within a month, and once it took two, but never more. So I comfort myself in knowing that homesickness too, shall pass.
2. Life goes on without you -- accept it. At first when you live abroad, your friends start getting married, relatives start having babies, somebody's grandma dies. And you miss it all. That feeling can be devastating, I know. Sooner or later, though, you'll plant your own roots wherever you are. You'll live through your own births and deaths and weddings and divorces and happiness and sadness. Those won't replace what's going on with your childhood/college friends and family back home. But, again, it comes back to living your life in the here and now, as corny as that may sound.
3. The beauty in being an expat is that you're always missing someone, something, somewhere. Yes, I said beauty, that's not a typo. In a sense it's a little heartbreaking that you're always far away from people and places you love. But, I really do think, that very few people are as appreciative of the friends and family they do have as expats are. When you miss someone or somewhere so much only then do you know how strongly you really love him/her/it.
I found a fantastic article from the Wall Street Journal touching on several topics I've posted about here before, such as long hours and no job security but with more in depth information.
1% of all U.S.Americans make a living blogging! I find that news really exciting. I think it means that as the profession goes mainstream, it will A. Be a more respectable thing to have on your resume, and B. Possibly move towards a different system, where bloggers are actually hired by companies rather than contracted as freelancers (meaning benefits and job security).
Here are a couple quick facts about those of making a living online:
Demographically, bloggers are extremely well educated: three out of every four are college graduates. Most are white males reporting above-average incomes. One out of three young people reports blogging, but bloggers who do it for a living successfully are 2% of bloggers overall. It takes about 100,000 unique visitors a month to generate an income of $75,000 a year.
The barriers to entry couldn't be lower. Most bloggers for hire pay $80 to get started, do it for about 35 months, and make a few hundred dollars. But a subgroup of these bloggers are the true professionals who work at corporations, serve as highly paid blogging consultants or write for sites with substantial traffic.
Pros who work for companies are typically paid $45,000 to $90,000 a year for their blogging. One percent make over $200,000. And they report long hours -- 50 to 60 hours a week.
But for how long can nearly 500,000 people who are gradually replacing whole swaths of journalists survive with no worker protections, no enforced ethics codes, limited standards, and, for most , no formal training? Even the "Wild West" eventually became just the "West."
Alright, everyone...the topic that everyone seemed the most enthusiastic about is sharing a travel story. Plus, that sort of combines some of the other ideas that were tossed in the mix, like "favorite weekend destination," or it can also be a childhood memory WHILE you were traveling. :) I mean, really this could be anything...your scariest, funniest, most memorable, prettiest, most romantic travel story, whatever you want.
FYI, the reason I'm not going back to the poll method to choose group blogs is because I'd rather only the people who are actually going to write on the topic choose it. If I have a poll it's open to all the readers (not that that's a bad thing) but I think they sometimes choose topics that you all don't necessarily want to write about. Twice, in the past we've had group blogs that were clear winners in the polls but everyone was complaining that they didn't want to write about those topics, which is probably because the readers chose it, not the writers. See what I'm saying here? Plus, we also made it pretty far down our list of topics from last time so I wanted to get some fresh ideas!
I like the idea of having a Chilean guest post but unfortunately I've been trying to get S. to guest post forever...so until he "feels inspired," that probably won't be happening around here anytime soon. :)
PS. Big news, coming VERY SOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Last year I received an email from an angry Chilean reader. He said that being friends with expats was hurting my perception of Chile and that if I wanted a "real" experience in Chile, I should be friends with only Chileans. I wish I had saved the email so I could quote directly from it, but alas, all negativity that comes into my inbox gets a courteous reply and then goes straight into the trash bin. But, I wanted to touch on the topic, just because I also see gringos and gringas who write about how proud they are that they only have Chilean friends and never hang out with fellow U.S.Americans. They think it's the only way to live a "real" Chilean experience.
It's true, I hang out regularly with other expats. We'll grab a drink, talk and laugh about our lives, sometimes about Chile, but contrary to popular stereotypes about expats, we do not get together exclusively to bitch and moan about this country. Of course, if someone is having a bad day and they feel the need to complain, we all listen and commiserate. But, more often than not our conversations don't revolve around hating this place.
When we do talk about Chile, I genuinely enjoy our conversations and feel like I usually walk away with a new or improved understanding of the country. I think that Chilean people might be surprised at what they could learn from foreigners who come in with a different perspective on the world, just like we learn from them about their way of life here. The truth is, like Renee said the other night, nobody else gets it quite like a fellow expat. The Chileans don't understand the way we see things because they haven't been in our shoes, and gringos that don't live here permanently or semi-permanently might be able to sympathize but they can't walk that mile either.
The other day, an email went out in Chilespouses (a group of women married to/dating Chilean significant others that live here). A woman was upset with herself that she was having problems with the Chilean immigration system and not being able to get her paperwork done, having to wait in long lines, having employees jerk her around, etc. Within hours, she had received an overwhelming number of responses of people who had all been there. My Chilean friends don't know what the immigration system here is like, nor do my gringa friends who don't live there. They can't quite fully grasp just how frustrating it can be. You just can't get that kind of support elsewhere.
Of course, surrounding yourself with only foreigners and not making an effort to learn the language and culture isn't the best idea either. I know people who have been here for years, and barely speak Spanish. It amazes me. I'm proud to say that of all my close expat friends, every single one speaks great Spanish, far better than the average gringa, or if they don't, they're actively learning. The people I know are integrated into Chilean society, work jobs at Chilean companies and have Chilean friends. We all make an effort to be a part of this country. Hanging out with expats does not make our experiences any less authentic.
I found the email sent to me laughable, to be honest. How can you define what a "real" experience is. Sure, there are folks who live up in La Dehesa in their gated communities, no stray dogs on the street, everyone driving around in shiny cars, living with a staff of 3 nanas, a chaffeur and a cook, sending their kids to the most exclusive private schools. Is that not real? Because there are Chileans living that life. Just because it's not standard doesn't mean it's not real.
I have Chilean friends, I have Chilean family, I have a Chilean mutt. I have a Chilean husband for Pete's sake...I have enough Chile in my day to day life to last me a lifetime. I like spending time with my gringa friends because the rest of my life is Chilean. In the first year of my time in Chile, I thought I wanted to be like those people who say they have no gringo friends whatsoever. Most people who come on study abroad go through that phase -- or if they don't, they probably just came to party and aren't here longer than 6 months.
If you need to find more Chileans to be in your life, I heard a good friend giving advice to a newly arrived gringa in Santiago, "Say yes to everything." It's true. Say yes to the nerd from your bio class when she asks if you want to study together, say yes if your host family invites you to the beach for a weekend with them, say yes to the creepy guy who asks you to a party. I'm not saying you have to make out with him -- I mean you can if you want, nobody's judging you, even if he has a mullet -- but I'm just saying, you live an authentic experience by saying yes to do things that Chileans do with Chileans.
However, that doesn't mean you have to say no to the gringos. Now that I've been here for almost 4 years, I've realized that neither way is a good way to live. You can't have all Chile in your life with no grasp to your own roots and culture. And you can't stay planted in the past never coming to grasp with the culture and reality of where you're currently living. There has to be a balance -- and saying that you won't be friends with an entire group of people, simply because they do (or don't) come from the same place as you, is just silly. Everybody has something to offer.
I did a photo session of Chile blogger Katina and her husband recently. She wrote a whole post in her blog (thank you, Katina!!!) about what the session was like for her. So if you've been wondering what it's like to be in front of my lens...now you know. :P I was really proud when I read what she wrote about how much she loves her photos. I love photography and I'm glad to hear that shows through in my work.
By the way, for anyone who's looking for a good haircut in Santiago, the guys who did this is Benoit. He's French, he's worked in London, Paris, NYC and now...Santiago. He seriously rocks and is great at what he does. He's very professional and fun...and he cuts hair out of his house which is a really cool loft in Bellavista. I definitely recommend him for anyone who needs a hair stylist. Email me at kylehepp at gmail dot com and I'll send you his contact info if you want the dato.
First of all, thank you to everyone who took the time to comment on my last post about Chileans at an individual level versus Chilean society as a whole. It was incredibly interesting to hear your answers and follow the debates (which turned into debates within debates). I've never kept track of how many comments each post gets, but I know that 87 comments must be some kind of crazy record, even if 15-20 of them were probably mine. :)
I am still waiting on my big news, and it just keeps getting bigger...but nothing I can share with you all yet. I'm sorry for those who have asked me. I don't mean to keep you waiting, and trust me, I'm impatient too. But, if I blog about any of it too soon, I'll jinx it!
And in other news, I mentioned the other day that I had lost one of my blogging jobs...well another one of my blogs also cut back. So basically my income will end up being cut in half. On one hand, I care, because well, it's money. On the other hand, the whole thing has definitely made me sit down and reevaluate long term where I want to be. Do I want to be at other people's mercy, getting my salary raised or lowered at will? Do I want to be freelancing, not knowing whether a piece will be accepted or rejected? Do I want to continue writing about topics other people tell me to write about, whether I find them cool or not? The uncertainty of being a non-contracted worker slapped me in the face this month. And yeah, the financial loss sucks big time. But, at the same time I felt a certain relief being fired from one and having less work to do for another. Churning out stories like a machine isn't fun. It isn't the kind of writing I'd like to be doing. And it ultimately made me question whether or not I'd like to be doing any kind of paid writing long term. If I could do it on my own terms about topics that interest me, of course! But how likely is that really? And as soon as I start blogging for another person about a topic that interests me that sort of sucks the fun out of it anyways.
The problem here is my budding photography business. I love it too much. It makes me realize how other things pale in comparison. I still like blogging, very much so. And if I had never picked up a camera I would probably even think I loved being a blogger.
At first when I started doing photography, I thought, "Maybe photography and I are in the honeymoon stage, and that's why I'm so crazy about it." But, come May 9th, I will have been working weddings and sessions steadily since the month of Jan. almost every single weekend -- which has meant that because I've still been blogging professionally while trying to do this, I've sacrificed sleep and sanity for my photography. The honeymoon stage is over, and I still love it.
And of course, I'm spoiled by my clients. They let me do what I want to do and it's so freeing. It's not like a story where someone says, "Can you focus on this angle, could you write this piece up, can you quote such and such, could you do that and this and that too?" The majority of my clients have said, "We hired you because we trust you." They don't ask me to take pictures in a specific ways or to change what I do (although I naturally alter my style with every client because no two couples are the same and I try to create a session that fits each different personality). This is such a blessing and I realize that I have it SO good. I am ridiculously grateful to each couple as they put myself in their hands, and I always put my heart and soul into making sure that I do their love story, their wedding story, or their family story, justice with my photos.
I don't really think of myself as creative. To me photography is actually a very non-creative art. Creative people are those who...wait for it...wait for it...CREATE. People who draw or people do graphic designs are creative because they take an idea in their head and they make it real. They create a tangible version of whatever is in their head. Photography, for me, is simply my way of showing people my vision of the world. I don't have to create a whole new reality, I just have to show you mine.
Most of my clients are happy to let me do that. At my last meeting with a bride and groom, they said, "We trust you. We're in your hands." This total lack of constraints makes me elated, and excited and nervous all at the same time. And more importantly it makes me realize how much I do feel constrained with the type of professional blogging I do. I am always trying to write in the voice of whatever site I'm writing for. But photography is my voice, with no one there to tell me to reword the story. Yes, I love it. I'm more certain than ever that being a wedding photographer is what I was meant to do.
Then again, just 5 years ago, I was completely 100% convinced that I would one day work on the Olympic Organizing Committee for the U.S. And when I was 3, I was just as sure that I would be a mermaid when I grew up. So you know...things change. But at the moment, I'm as sure as I've ever been that photography is "the one," because I've definitely never felt this way before about anybody.
View large here. You'll also find an easy photoshop tutoral at the link on how to get the same effect.
If you celebrate the holiday, hope you have a great one. And if you don't celebrate, like me, have a lovely Sunday and enjoy this photo of a church. :)
I've had this topic on my mind lately, but Tamsin's angry post from yesterday has finally spurred me on to write about it.
As most of us come from the U.S. or the U.K., in her case, it's safe to say, that on a societal level we are used to people standing politely in lines, saying please and thank you and behaving in a manner that we would generally consider well-mannered (we definitely have our own set of problems but politeness doesn't rank high among them). And on a societal level, if your cultural standards are are U.S. standards, Chileans are rude. They'll push you and elbow you out of the way on the metro, cut in front of the line at the grocery store and then act like they don't hear you if you try to call them out for it. They don't always return phone calls or show up to planned appointments, never worrying about wasting another person's time.
Time and time again, I've heard gringas comment, "My husband isn't a typical Chilean." They argue that their mate is _______ (nicer, more polite, you fill in the blank). If you're saying that your Chilean is less mulletier than the average, than yes, you're probably right. But otherwise,
I beg to differ.
I think that kind, polite, happy Chileans are the standard of Chile, on an individual level. It's not completely fair (ok, yeah, it's a little fair) to judge the Chilean who nearly knocked down an old lady running to catch the bus. This city gets to people. This life changes people. I'm guilty of it. We're all guilty of it.
Don't tell me that you have never once gotten so fed up that you've bumped into someone and not said sorry. Don't try to deny that you've never been so completely annoyed that you've been short with a cashier. I've pushed people out of my way accidentally when I used to take classes in Campus Macul and lived in Estacion Central. During rush hour it would take me 1.5-2 hours to get there. I'd be flying trying to catch the second bus on a crowded street and sometimes I'd run into people, shoving them without meaning to. I always shouted back to apologize but who knows if they'd hear me. And I can see how it'd be easy, doing that commute day in and day out, to become numb -- to forget to apologize or look out for people in that rush and stress every weekday morning of your life.
On an individual level, I've rarely met a Chilean that I downright don't like. S.'s friends are amazing, like brothers more than friends really. They've been nothing but good to me since the day we met. His family is wonderful and open-minded and loving. Admittedly a lot of the women in this country are harder to get to know, and while I haven't had the most success making amigas Chilenas, the ones I do have are loyal and kind and everything you could ever ask for in a friend.
Yet, just like many of the expats living here, or in any country, I'm sure, I've had days when I've said, "I hate Chile and all the Chileans in it except one." Not fair. That's just about as fair as the people who judge citizens of the U.S. based on what President Bush did and said. Did I agree with any of what he did? No. Have I had Chileans judge me based on a Bush as a cultural representation of country? Yes. Not fair.
Just the other day I posted on Needish asking if anyone would be willing to tutor Marcelo in math. Within 24 hours I got 3 people responding. They don't me. They don't know Marcelo. But they all offered, more than happy to help. The profile of one of the students who is going to tutor Marcelo says,
¿Por qué ayudas?
1.- Por sentirme bien como persona.
2.- Para que Chile sea un mejor pais. Se desarrolle y mejore su nivel de vida.
Why do you help?
1. To feel good as a person.
2. So that Chile becomes a better country. So that the quality of life develops and gets better.
Hey everyone, I hope I'm not annoying you with all this self-promotion, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
I just wrote a new post on TONIC, and it's actually about a service that I'm sure a lot of you could use -- a bike messenger. If you have just 30 seconds to click and take a look I would be super grateful, and if you have a full 60, leave a comment and I'll love you even more!
I wrote up an interview with Mario about his company Velociti. He's a really great guy and honestly, his services are top notch. He comes to your house to pick up your package and delivers it the same day. Better yet, it's eco-friendly because he's on a bike and reasonably priced as well. If you need to send something in Santiago, I don't know why anyone would use snail mail anymore when you have same day bike delivery!
My interview with him is all about the challenges of starting a small business in Chile. I know all too well just how difficult it is, especially when you're trying to do something outside the box. Check out my story at TONIC and then check out Velociti!
1. You can hire a nana! And trust me, all nanas are like golden gifts from god. They make your house cleaner than you could ever get it even if you spent all day, every day scrubbing the toilet with a toothbrush. You'll fight less with your husband and have better sex. Money-back guarantee.
2. This place is ripe for entrepeneurs to start up businesses. I mean, just look around you -- they're everywhere -- on the streets hawking pirated CD's and movies off blankets on the sidewalk. They're men walking around Bellavista trying to rub your head with one of the above. They used to be on the bus, selling pencils, mirrors, tupperware and dental floss. Small businesses flourish in Chile!
3. Forget buying a fancy dog from a breeder. Chile offers bigger, better, cuter pets for free. Just look around you. Walking down the sidewalk in any barrio bajo is like being in a doggie zoo. It's a veritable puppy buffet in Santiago or Valparaiso. You want a pet? Just take your pick of the litter!
4. If you're female and foreign, even if your face looks like a foot, odds are good that you can still find a husband to your liking in Chile. Once you've spotted a guy you like, just shave off his mullet, burn all his fanny packs and walk that weon right on down the aisle.
5. While growing to love Chile, you'll also find many new things to appreciate about your home country. We wait in orderly lines (!!!). Our windows have screens (GASP). Once you've lived at the end of the world small wonders will never again cease to amaze.
Haha. Funny. This is how I feel right now. It's tiring.
Thanks to PastaQueen for sharing this!
I did it!!!!
Yeah, baby, feeling good. :)
I just spent the last half an hour on the computer trying to figure out the next race I can run. I had so much fun doing this one. I mean, at the time I didn't exactly think it was fun, but as soon as it was all over my mind instantly blacked out all the painful parts and made me want to do it all over!
I finished the Santiago Half Marathon with the respectable time (in my humble opinion) of 2:11:04. That put me at a 10minute 5 second mile. ARRRRRRRRRRGH. Now I have to do another one because I know I can break 10. I'm annoyed with myself for not having done so this time around.
I came in 194th in my category (Damas 20-34 years old) and 3338th out of every person who ran the half. Those numbers mean nothing though because I have no idea how many people, or specifically women in my category, ran.
According to my iPod this was my break down of each mile:
Mile 1: 9:48 (this first mile I was with the masses and I couldn't run at my own pace so that was a little frustrating).
Mile 2: 9:21 (still in the pack, slowly breaking free)
Mile 3: 8:43 (downhill and felt awesome!)
Mile 4: 8:50 (same)
Mile 5: 8:44 (same)
Miles 6: 10:21 (stopped for water)
Mile 7: 9:45 (stopped for water, to say hi to S. and put on a hat)
Mile 8: 10:25 (severe uphillage action going on)
Mile 9: 11:55 (same)
Mile 10: 8:48 (a guy sprayed me with a hose and I got cooled down and reinvigorated and I think it wasn't as severly uphill)
Mile 11: 9:39 (hip starting to hurt)
Mile 12: 10:23 (hip hurting badly, stomach hurting badly because I had to poop)
Mile 13: 14:21 (had to stop and walk so I didn't go into a full blown asthma attack)
I feel like really the only two miles I should have sped up were Mile 6 and Mile 7. In Mile 6, a big group of marathoners must have passed right before the tidal wave of people I was running with arrived, because none of the stands had water pre-poured in the glasses. They were pouring it as people arrived and there were short lines and then people were walking, instead of running, like they did in other water break spots, through the whole area. And in Mile 7, S. was waiting for me on the corner with more water and my hat, and I stopped for probably 45-60 seconds to give him a hug and kiss. If I could've skipped the water breaks there I would have broken a 10 minute mile, which was my goal. I'm a little disappointed that I didn't, but looking back at the rest of the race, all miles except for those two, I was absolutely going as fast as I could (without pooping my pants).
One lesson I learned is that I NEVER want to run another morning race. Or if I do, I should train in the mornings. But that just wouldn't happen so I think it's out of the question. My whole system felt out of wack. My body was as tired as could be expected while running, but the whole time I felt SO tired, as in sleepy tired. And I had a headache from not getting a good night's rest. Plus, and this is TMI, so stop reading if you're grossed out by bodily functions, I poop every morning, like clockwork when I wake up around 9am, and my body did not decide to change it's schedule just because I had a race to run. So towards the end I really had to slow down because I had to poop so freaking bad that I would've crapped my pants. And then my lungs started feeling insanely constricted, and as much as I want to sprint the last mile all out, I knew that if I didn't stop and walk an ambulance probably would have ended up taking my non-breathing body off the track had I not. So yeah, a 14 minute mile isn't great, but I don't feel like there's anything I could have done about that. Miles 8, 9, and 10 had the worst uphill action going on, and that was really tough, but I was plugging along. I felt like I continued to exert the same steady amount of energy the whole time.
There weren't a ton of spectators, and those that were there were fairly quiet. At a few points I actually yelled out "VAMOOOOOOOOOS!!!!" at the top of my lungs to try and motivate myself and the people around me. A few rowdy groups stood on corners and yelled out, but other than that, most people just stood along the sidelines and watched. And there were long stretches were there wasn't anybody around. Around mile 3 or 4, there were absolutely no spectators but one awesome volunteer was trying to make up for it. She was one of the folks who went out and waved a bright orange flag so nobody got steered off course. But this woman was yelling out at everyone who passed, "Vamos hijos mios, SI SE PUEDE!!!!" I loved her. But not as much as I loved the two families who were out spraying people with a hose. I wanted to kiss them! It was hot as hades and the temperature of my pale white skin was so high you could've fried on egg my forehead. On an uphill mile with no shade and almost no spectators this ancient little old man was standing out in his front yard with the hose spraying anyone who ran over to him. I did and it completely breathed new life into me. If I could, I'd go back and give him a big kiss! Instead I just grinned and said, "Se paso!" And then about a half a mile later there was another family doing the same thing and the little kids were in charge of spraying so I told them, "Les quiero mucho!!!" I wasn't lying.
And in another random observation, there seemed to be a disproportionate amount of Brazilians running. I saw a few people who looked like gringos, never even saw the Kenyans (who took first and second place) but man did I see a TON of people from Brazil -- and they all wore something with the Brazilian flag on it so you could easily tell them apart. What I loved about them was that as they passed each other they'd all cheer each other on, and I'm assuming that not ALL these people knew each other from beforehand. I tried to get up the guts to cheer fellow gringas on, but maybe because we weren't all wrapped in the American flag, I wasn't sure if they were actually from the U.S. or Europe or just blond Chileans, so I didn't. And there weren't very many of them, that I saw, either. Females were few and far in between. Actually at the pre-marathon site where we had to go pick up our chips and t-shirts there were about 4 or 5 giant booths for men to pick up their t-shirts and then there was one small half both for women to get theirs.
At the very end of the race, I thought my actual time was 2:30 and I was so incredibly disappointed. I kept doing the math over and over on my iPod disbelievingly. 2:30 was what the clock said when I ran under it, which is why I was confused. And when S. came to pick me up I believe my exact words were, said through tears and sniffling, were, "I SUCK and I am NEVER going to run again." It wasn't the specific time I was disappointed in, just the fact that I thought I ran soooooo much slower than I had been training. I thought that when it came to crunch time I had let myself down. And I'm also the sorest sore loser you'll ever meet. My senior year of high school my cheerleading team lost by 3 points after nailing our routine, to a team who dropped a stunt, and yes, I am STILL bitter about that. I should have been a State Champion, damn it! I fully realize that things like state championships and half marathon times, in the grand scheme of things, don't mean jack shit, but I'm just a competitor. I like to do my best and be rewarded for that. :)
And a big kudos to S., who dropped me off in the morning, then drove to meet me at about the halfway point where we was waiting with water, a hat, my other running shoes and crackers, and a big hug and kiss, just in case I needed any of those things. He was planning on waiting for me again at the point where the race ran by my house, and then again at the finish. But we were big time failures when it came to meeting near my house. I actually got out of the crowd and ran on the sidewalk because I wanted to make sure not to miss him, and he had went out into the middle of the road, to stand next to a policeman to make sure that he would see me in the middle of the crowd. Needless to say, we did not connect. And he stayed out there waiting and waiting, wondering if I had died somewhere along the way. When the ambulances passed him picking up the stragglers he started getting really worried. He thought it was impossible that I had passed without him seeing me. And in the mean time I had been waiting for a half an hour at the arranged meeting point at the finish line, getting angrier and angrier, not at him, but just because I was so tired and thirsty and had no way to get home, no money and no cell phone. He says for the next one he's going to get out a huge flag and scream and yell so I see him. And then he prefaced that by adding, "But in order to so, I'd have to start drinking rum at 7 in the morning."
Anyways, I've been rambling and I'm still really too tired to think straight, so it's best I end this post now. I'm going to celebrate with a big glass of champagne. Hope you all had a great weekend!
PS. Don't forget to congratulate Emily who also finished the half marathon!
Hey everybody. Marcelo wants/needs a math tutor. He is struggling big time and so far he's only on the basics, but he has to take a math class every semester to graduate and if he fails now he's just going to get farther and farther behind.
Right now he's just on fractions and percentages and very basic equations. S. and people who work with Marcelo have been helping him at lunch time, but none of them are tutors. They just say, "Here's how you do it." But they can't explain the reasons behind why, in order to give him an actual understanding of the concept rather than an equation to memorize.
We're looking for someone to do this as a volunteer. And it would have to be on a Saturday afternoon or anytime during Sunday since Marcelo works days and is at class nights. We have a few possibilities of people who might be able to help, but none are sure bets yet so I wanted to post here to find out if any math geniuses who read this blog would be interested in doing a good deed. :)
I'll pay you with a free photo session if you want! Please send an email to: kylehepp at gmail dot com if you're interested.
Thanks so much!
The Half Marathon is in two days and I'm NERVOUS!!!!!!!!!!!
If anyone has any last minute advice for me I'll gladly take it. But, I guess I'm as prepared as I'll ever be. I could have done a better job following the training plan, and I'm regretting that now, seeing as how I only did a long run more like once every other weekend, rather than once a week like I should have. But it's a little too late for that at this point.
I'm also very curious to see what kinds of people will be running with me. Will it be a ton of foreigners? Will there be a majority of men in the race since Chilean women, in general, aren't super big on exercising? Will there be Kenyans? WILL I COME IN LAST PLACE????????
So that's not really a question about the kinds of people who will be running with me, but still, it's a major concern of mine. Why? Because the results will be published in the freaking Mercurio. So if I end up completing the race in some ridiculously slow time and being the very final person who manages to cross the finish line, you're all going to know about it.
When I ran 12 miles, everything was peachy. But just two weeks before that I had done 11 and it was total hell. I did nothing different on either one of those days. I was properly hydrated, ate about two hours beforehand, and ran at the same time of day. So it seems to be chance as to whether or not I'm having a good running day. Fingers crossed that I am on race day!!!
I don't normally post this sort of thing, but since it's a hilarious oversimplification of cultural differences and it made me laugh out loud, here goes nothing. My favorite description was of the Italians because I read a blog about a Gringa expat in Italy...and the description seems to pretty accurately sum up her life there.
______________________________________________________________________
SOCIALISM
You have 2 cows.
You give one to your neighbor.
COMMUNISM
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both and gives you some milk.
FASCISM
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both and sells you some milk.
NAZISM
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both and shoots you.
BUREAUCRATISM
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both, shoots one, milks the other, and then throws the milk away.
TRADITIONAL CAPITALISM
You have two cows.
You sell one and buy a bull.
Your herd multiplies, and the economy grows.
You sell them and retire on the income.
SURREALISM
You have two giraffes.
The government requires you to take harmonica lessons.
AN AMERICAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You sell one, and force the other to produce the milk of four cows. Later, you hire a consultant to analyze why the cow has dropped dead.
ENRON VENTURE CAPITALISM
You have two cows.
You sell three of them to your publicly listed company, using letters of credit opened by your brother-in-law at the bank, then execute a debt/equity swap with an associated general offer so that you get all four cows back, with a tax exemption for five cows.
The milk rights of the six cows are transferred via an intermediary to a Cayman Island Company secretly owned by the majority shareholder who sells the rights to all seven cows back to your listed company.
The annual report says the company owns eight cows, with an option on one more. You sell one cow to buy a new president of the United States , leaving you with nine cows.
No balance sheet provided with the release.
The public then buys your bull.
A FRENCH CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You go on strike, organize a riot, and block the roads, because you want three cows.
A JAPANESE CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk.
You then create a clever cow cartoon image called 'Cowkimon' and market it worldwide.
A GERMAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You re-engineer them so they live for 100 years, eat once a month, and milk themselves.
AN ITALIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows, but you don't know where they are. You decide to have lunch.
A RUSSIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You count them and learn you have five cows.
You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.
You count them again and learn you have 2 cows.
You stop counting cows and open another bottle of vodka.
A SWISS CORPORATION
You have 5000 cows. None of them belong to you.
You charge the owners for storing them.
A CHINESE CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You have 300 people milking them.
You claim that you have full employment, and high bovine productivity. You arrest the newsman who reported the real situation.
AN INDIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You worship them.
A BRITISH CORPORATION
You have two cows.
Both are mad.
AN IRAQI CORPORATION
Everyone thinks you have lots of cows.
You tell them that you have none.
No one believes you, so they bomb the **** out of you and invade your country.
You still have no cows, but at least now you are part of a Democracy.
AN AUSTRALIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
Business seems pretty good.
You close the office and go for a few beers to celebrate.
A WELSH CORPORATION
You have two cows. You sell them and buy seven sheep.
The one in the middle looks rather attractive!
The genius expat blogger Fned wrote a post on this a few weeks ago and I am shameless writing about her idea now. She inspired me and me think, like she always does, so thanks Fned!
Part of her post reads,
The more I think about it, the more I realize that Hubby and I are currently running exclusively on plain vanilla. Our careers, our cravings, our possessions, our health, our free time, our lives... everything is running right on schedule and precisely at an established level of satisfaction that should easily mean things are good and there is every reason to be happy.
And yet, somehow, something feels stagnated...
I've been living in Chile for about four years now and blogging for two. I really have this country completely figured out and I have nothing more to write about.
This is my last post on JMCS.
S. and I are ready for a standard vanilla life in the U.S. and since once we move back I'll never have anything to complain about again, I think this blog has run it's course.
Read more about my decision to quit blogging here.
All across Santiago are billboards on bus stops and other random places plastered with the slogan "Chic and Cheap." They feature very non-Chilean looking women in polyester plaid shirts for Almacenes Paris. On each ad, the price is posted as well.
A lot of the price points are 20,000 +. Now, I'm not going to lie. I love plaid. And it's very trendy right now. I've been searching for the perfect, long cozy lumberjack inspired shirt to wear over leggings. But there is no way in hell you're going to catch me paying 20,000 pesos for that shit at Almacenes Paris or Falabella!
At the current exchange rate 20,000 is about $35 USD. And then you have to factor in the fact that salaries here are comparatively much lower, which means the actual cost to the average Chilean is higher. Needless to say, I take issues with the use of the words "Chic and Cheap." Paris and I clearly have differing opinions on what cheap means.
To me, spoiled American girl that I am, used to having consumer rights, cheap means Target -- where I can buy a (designer, nonetheless!) dress for $20 bucks and it won't fall apart after the second wash. Oh, and if it does, I can go back to the store and bitch and moan and they'll let me return it. At Falabella or Paris, to return even a completely new item with the tags on and all receipts present, they pretty much require you to get Michelle Bachelet's seal of approval before they'll take it back.
Consumer rights in Chile are sorely lacking. And yes, sometimes this isn't a big deal. It just results in minor inconveniences and whining when I have to waste time standing in lines -- which is just part of life here, like it or not. But other times, like when the 3 majors pharmacies in Chile all get together and decide they're going to raise their prices on medicines in order to further continue their work of effing the consumer up the pooper (yes, yes, I'm trying to be a lady and watch my language), it's a serious abuse of power.
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