I live in Providencia, a nice, more suburban area just outside the center of the city. It’s not quite as “quico” (aka rich) as the neighboring comuna of Las Condes, but still nice nonetheless. It’s quiet, safe, and residential; very familial, inhabited by young and old alike. It’s complete with schools, shopping, restaurants, parks and TRANSVESTITES, or to which I more simply refer to as trannies.
One of the first times I really took notice of these trannies, was when a Chilean friend of mine was driving me home after a night of karaoke. His English is not so great, but as we passed them, he giggled and proclaimed, “not women.”
When I first began living here, there were only two or three that would strut their stuff every night just a mere block and a half away from my apartment. They have since grown in numbers, and I swear there is like 10 that now hang out every night on the corner. They usually start showing up around 10:00 pm and I’ve seen them still out there as late as 4:00 am or 5:00 am, though usually they seem to have gotten picked up sometime before 2:00 am. They have long hair, deep voices, short skirts, stomach-baring tops, and are never without heels. I’ve even seen a few who literally wear thongs with the kind of display that would most definitely be cited for indecent exposure in the States. And damn, some of them have nicer legs than me!
Riddle me this: Why do they hang out a block and a half north of my apartment, a building inhabited by young children and senior citizens in a residential neighborhood consisting mainly of middle class people? It boggles my mind every time I see them. Providencia could be compared to where I grew up in Wauwatosa and let me tell you, never once did I see a tranny hanging out on the corners in Tosa. Trannies to me seem like they are better suited for the grimy, grungy areas of town, not amongst the impeccably green lawns and gated apartment buildings that inhabit all of Providencia.
The carabineros (police) are aware of the problem. However, according to my roommate, despite the many complaints from the neighborhood, they refuse to take any action against it.
I was scared of them at first. I always walked on the other side of the street coming home, eyes to the ground. But they are like a train wreck, you know you shouldn’t look, but you cannot seem to peel your eyes away. They’ve become more of a permanent fixture to me on my walks home, much like a lamppost, or a bush. I look, but never engage in conversation. And they don’t scare me anymore; mostly because they don’t even look at me twice, but rather heckle and cat call those without breasts.
While I can’t quite figure out why they choose such a place like Providencia, it never ceases to intrigue me. Maybe one day the mystery will be solved as to why the corner of Holanda and Providencia is such a hot spot for these ladies…er, men.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Sealed with a kiss.
One my most favorite parts of the Chilean culture is the beso or kiss. People here kiss each other when they meet, when they greet, and when they say goodbye. Never on the lips, always on the cheek. And unlike other cultures, it is common practice here to kiss the person’s left cheek only, not lay one on each cheek. Of course, this is while the person is simultaneously doing the same to you. Some will actually kiss your cheek while others will touch cheeks and air kiss. Some will go all out and grab your face while planting one on you. I guess it all depends on the person and maybe how intimate you want to be.
As an American, my natural instinct is to offer my hand as a form of greeting or meeting someone and give them a firm handshake. For the first few weeks I was here, I instinctively did such an act, which always resulted in a face-hand tug-of-war. I would hold out my hand, while the other person would lean in for the kiss. Then, I would draw back my hand and lean in for the kiss, while the other person would draw back their face and extend their hand. Some people gave me weird looks, but most just chalked it up to me being a gringa. Either way, it was a bit awkward and slightly embarrassing on my part. But after all those years of practice, it’s a tough habit to break. Plus, I always prided myself on having a firm, solid handshake, at least for a girl.
I knew I was becoming more chilena when I stopped holding out my hand, and without thinking would kiss someone. Sure, it may get annoying at those times when you just want to leave someplace, yet have to go around to kiss and say good-bye to each and every person before you can depart; but on the whole, I think it’s a lovely gesture. It’s personal and intimate. It provides more of a sense of welcoming and inclusiveness that you may not find with Americans. It immediately establishes a personal connection among people, and among strangers at that. Since I am an affectionate person, I feel it quite suits my personality.
It also serves as a form of signing off when sending messages and the like. People always sign off with “besos” or x’s. I love when someone says, “un beso,” because you give kisses to everyone, but for some reason, the idea of just a single kiss gives more of a special, more intimate vibe.
Beware friends and family, I am determined to bring this back with me upon my return to the States. Or at the very least, will have become so accustomed to the beso, that I will instinctively do that instead of handshakes. Either way, don’t be scared, just embrace it.
xx
As an American, my natural instinct is to offer my hand as a form of greeting or meeting someone and give them a firm handshake. For the first few weeks I was here, I instinctively did such an act, which always resulted in a face-hand tug-of-war. I would hold out my hand, while the other person would lean in for the kiss. Then, I would draw back my hand and lean in for the kiss, while the other person would draw back their face and extend their hand. Some people gave me weird looks, but most just chalked it up to me being a gringa. Either way, it was a bit awkward and slightly embarrassing on my part. But after all those years of practice, it’s a tough habit to break. Plus, I always prided myself on having a firm, solid handshake, at least for a girl.
I knew I was becoming more chilena when I stopped holding out my hand, and without thinking would kiss someone. Sure, it may get annoying at those times when you just want to leave someplace, yet have to go around to kiss and say good-bye to each and every person before you can depart; but on the whole, I think it’s a lovely gesture. It’s personal and intimate. It provides more of a sense of welcoming and inclusiveness that you may not find with Americans. It immediately establishes a personal connection among people, and among strangers at that. Since I am an affectionate person, I feel it quite suits my personality.
It also serves as a form of signing off when sending messages and the like. People always sign off with “besos” or x’s. I love when someone says, “un beso,” because you give kisses to everyone, but for some reason, the idea of just a single kiss gives more of a special, more intimate vibe.
Beware friends and family, I am determined to bring this back with me upon my return to the States. Or at the very least, will have become so accustomed to the beso, that I will instinctively do that instead of handshakes. Either way, don’t be scared, just embrace it.
xx
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
My newfound appreciation for teachers.
Most of you are probably wondering what exactly it is that I do here in Santiago, what exactly my teaching entails. Well, let me tell you…
When I applied to Instituto Chileno Norteamericano, I was specifically recruited to be part of a program sponsored by Corfo. A government agency in Chile, Corfo works to improve the economic development of the nation. They think the tourism industry is one of the top areas to stimulate growth here and recognize the need for people who work in these areas to be able to communicate in English, as many foreign visitors to this country are native English speakers. So, they offered a scholarship for those who work in this industry to take English classes at the Institute.
The program itself was an intense, six and a half week program in which students attended class three hours a day, Monday through Saturday. That was in conjunction with their pre-existing jobs and the fact that it is busy season for travel in Chile right now. To say they were a hard-working, dedicated bunch would be a complete understatement and I have only the utmost admiration for each and every one of them.
The class centered around a book that catered only to the hotel industry, which for some, proved to be very useful, but for others, not so much. My classes were composed of those that not only worked in hotels, but that worked for airlines, travel agencies, tour groups or who worked as tour guides, hiking guides, and the like. Not only was the book limited in its content, but it was also at a much lower level than my very high-level English learning students. All of them had studied English before stepping into my classroom. They knew basic vocabulary and grammatical structures, so the real necessity for them was getting a better handle on colloquial expressions and practice in conversation and natural discourse. Of course, you will always have students at different levels with different strengths, some that are better at writing, others that are better at speaking. However, as a whole, both of my classes were very proficient in the English language. This can be a blessing and a curse, because while it makes communication with them very easy, it also means that they bore quickly. Luckily, the Institute recognized that the book was not enough and thus provided weekly electives in which students spent part of the time with the book and then rest of the time learning about specific lessons centered on tourism in Chile. This helped alleviate some of the monotony of the book activities and weariness on part of the students.
I taught one semester before coming down here when I was still in Madison, but that was for one hour, two days a week and with a co-teacher. Teaching for three hours every single day and keeping students engaged the entire time, while still adhering to the provided curriculum is a lot more challenging than I originally anticipated. Teachers always have to be on the ball, and function more as an entertainer than anything else, which can be downright exhausting at times. As a teacher, you always have to be on your game, it’s hard to have a bad day when you are at the forefront of the classroom, all attention focused on you. It also requires a great deal of patience and energy to appropriately address all the needs and questions your students may have. At that, you are always being scrutinized for what you do or do not do. I spent a great deal of time outside the classroom organizing activities apart from the book to keep interest, stimulate conversation and most of all, provide them a template for practice. Lastly, as a teacher you want to have all the answers, and sometimes there is that underlying expectation on part of your students that you do, in fact, have all the answers. There are moments, though, when someone throws you a curveball question in which you are standing there dumbfounded, with no answer. As a perfectionist, I hated these moments.
My class ended this past week, and it was a wonderful experience. It was as much of a learning experience for me as it was for my students. If there’s one thing that I’ve taken away from my first class here, though, it’s that I did not nearly appreciate my teachers as much as I should have in all my years of schooling. I have nothing but respect for those that make an entire, lifelong career of it and can only hope to have given to my students what my teachers gave to me.
My classes:
When I applied to Instituto Chileno Norteamericano, I was specifically recruited to be part of a program sponsored by Corfo. A government agency in Chile, Corfo works to improve the economic development of the nation. They think the tourism industry is one of the top areas to stimulate growth here and recognize the need for people who work in these areas to be able to communicate in English, as many foreign visitors to this country are native English speakers. So, they offered a scholarship for those who work in this industry to take English classes at the Institute.
The program itself was an intense, six and a half week program in which students attended class three hours a day, Monday through Saturday. That was in conjunction with their pre-existing jobs and the fact that it is busy season for travel in Chile right now. To say they were a hard-working, dedicated bunch would be a complete understatement and I have only the utmost admiration for each and every one of them.
The class centered around a book that catered only to the hotel industry, which for some, proved to be very useful, but for others, not so much. My classes were composed of those that not only worked in hotels, but that worked for airlines, travel agencies, tour groups or who worked as tour guides, hiking guides, and the like. Not only was the book limited in its content, but it was also at a much lower level than my very high-level English learning students. All of them had studied English before stepping into my classroom. They knew basic vocabulary and grammatical structures, so the real necessity for them was getting a better handle on colloquial expressions and practice in conversation and natural discourse. Of course, you will always have students at different levels with different strengths, some that are better at writing, others that are better at speaking. However, as a whole, both of my classes were very proficient in the English language. This can be a blessing and a curse, because while it makes communication with them very easy, it also means that they bore quickly. Luckily, the Institute recognized that the book was not enough and thus provided weekly electives in which students spent part of the time with the book and then rest of the time learning about specific lessons centered on tourism in Chile. This helped alleviate some of the monotony of the book activities and weariness on part of the students.
I taught one semester before coming down here when I was still in Madison, but that was for one hour, two days a week and with a co-teacher. Teaching for three hours every single day and keeping students engaged the entire time, while still adhering to the provided curriculum is a lot more challenging than I originally anticipated. Teachers always have to be on the ball, and function more as an entertainer than anything else, which can be downright exhausting at times. As a teacher, you always have to be on your game, it’s hard to have a bad day when you are at the forefront of the classroom, all attention focused on you. It also requires a great deal of patience and energy to appropriately address all the needs and questions your students may have. At that, you are always being scrutinized for what you do or do not do. I spent a great deal of time outside the classroom organizing activities apart from the book to keep interest, stimulate conversation and most of all, provide them a template for practice. Lastly, as a teacher you want to have all the answers, and sometimes there is that underlying expectation on part of your students that you do, in fact, have all the answers. There are moments, though, when someone throws you a curveball question in which you are standing there dumbfounded, with no answer. As a perfectionist, I hated these moments.
My class ended this past week, and it was a wonderful experience. It was as much of a learning experience for me as it was for my students. If there’s one thing that I’ve taken away from my first class here, though, it’s that I did not nearly appreciate my teachers as much as I should have in all my years of schooling. I have nothing but respect for those that make an entire, lifelong career of it and can only hope to have given to my students what my teachers gave to me.
My classes:
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