case dulce casa en santiago

Spending some quality time w/ kitty cat (before she runs away). I'm trying to teach Vivi "nice," which I think she understands but doesn't like. She would rather grab fur. Poor Bunny. She knows that when I say, "Kitty cat!" she'd better look out for little hands.



















Exploring all that there is to see-outlets, heaters, and all.












Playing in the living room. It has a nice big window that Vivi likes to pound on and the cat likes to look out. We have used the 2 couches to make a baby-containing area. When she gets tired of being in there, she stands at the corner and hoots.












Hanging out in the front yard. A gardener comes every day to spruce things up.

















Bunny checking out yard of house we're staying in. It's actually part of a hotel, but it's nice to have more space.











Bunny reading up on doing some sightseeing.













Having desayuno at the hotel. Vivi likes to flirt w/ the waiters. I encourage it. It gives me time to get my coffee.











Eating oranges in the stroller before we bought a highchair. Very, very, very, very messy.

pix from the move

Bunny roaming in our (sadly) empty Pasadena apartment. It was pretty small, and not structurally perfect, but it was home for 7 years.











We crammed all of our stuff (that wasn't on the slow boat to Santiago) into our car, fit the carseat in, stuffed the cat under the seat, and headed to LAX. Vivi seemed to think it was just another car ride, but Bunny somehow knew that something more ominous than just a ride up the street to the vet loomed.











Vivi and Bunny (in black bag next to stroller) and all of our stuff, ready to be loaded on the plane (after we re-arranged stuff in our suitcases, we only had to pay $300 for extra and heavy bags).











Vivi took the opportunity during our 2 hour layover in Atlanta to roll around on the floor in the airport. We encouraged it. We were hoping she'd work off some energy and sleep during the 9 hour flight to Santiago.









The cat was not so exuberant at the airport. We offered her food and water, and she looked at us like she would rather kill us than eat. But, she made it okay, with the help of some kitty prozac.










Ah, the power and wonder of Benadryl. Others, in horror: "You drugged your baby?" Me, matter-of-factly: "Damn right. Read my lips: 9 hour flight"

Visiting the Persa

Last weekend we went to the Persa. It is a giant, giant, giant flea market that makes the Rose Bowl flea market look like a yard sale (though it's not in as nice an area). It is four blocks long, and two blocks wide. Warehouses, and some small shops, contain everything you could probably ever need. We mostly looked at furniture and clothes, and then decided that we wouldn't want anything made of cloth (couch, chairs, etc.) from there, because those things would smell like the place, which is a combination of dirty water, cooking food (people walk around w/ shopping carts that have big buckets of cooking oil, and they put a grill across the top of the shopping cart to cook meat), smoke, and lots and lots of people, some of whom bathe regularly. There are also tools, pets (we heard them but never saw them), electronics, car pieces, belts, shoes, toys, perfume, soaps, and, well, basically everything. You can also get a haircut, but the guy who does them doesn't sweep the floor until the end of the day, so you have to sit amidst piles of black hair on the floor.

Most things aren't market w/ a price, but some are. Bargaining is expected. We just walked around and took it all in. Vivi LOVED it, because there was so much for her to see. People talked to her constantly, and one lady even took her picture (should have charged her a quarter).

It was fun, and I'm sure we'll go back. It will probably take us the two whole years we are here to see the whole thing.

People are nice, except at Supermercado

I have discovered that the one gauranteed way to ruin my day is to go to the supermercado to buy groceries. I have been to 4 different stores, in 4 different places, and they all are full of people who are dumbfounded by how stupid I am to be living here and not have better Spanish. I am starting to get used to the systems, like going to a counter to get your bread and produce weighed, and getting a number ticket at the deli counter (and cheese counter, and fish, etc.) What I'm not used to is that they say the number superfast and not very loud and if you don't shove down everyone around you and sprint up w/ your ticket, they go to the next number. No sopa parati! On the few occassions that I have been aggressive enough to get waited on, I am then stymied by them askingmereallyreallyquicklywhatdoIwantwhichkindofhamwhichonesmokedornot? and I stand there, looking and feeling stupid, and just point and say, "Esto, por favor?" and then they ask me something else, reallyreallyfast, and I just say, "Esto, por favor?" until they tire of me and give me esto.

Luckily, however, all the mean people seem to be working in the supermercados all day, because people on the street and in most other places are really nice. I went shopping for Futon mattresses the other day, and was doing really well understanding the guy there, because he didn't ask me whatdoyouwantreallyreallyquickly, and this lady comes over and starts talking to me in English. I was like, No, no English, por favor! Necesito a practicar Espanol! Necesito a practicar mucho! And she laughed and spoke to me in Spanish (mostly).

The people at the hotel have been really nice, and they use slightly more complicated words every day. They make faces at Vivi at desayuno, and don't make a big deal about the mess she makes.

I also did not get lost yesterday. First day since we've been here. I had to drive around with the map in my lap, and stop every mile or 2 to check it, but I am starting to understand the cluster of streets that pass for the insanity that is driving here.


I have also learned a lesson about buying things. I have been accustomed to return policies that require a receipt, sometimes within a certain amount of time of purchase. Don't like it? Return it. Doesn't fit? Return it. Cat threw up on it? Wipe it off and return it. Here, no such luck. Give us your address and phone number, and the item back, and we might send you money. Next month. Call us if you haven't heard in 2. So I'm hesitant to buy a cup of coffee. If it has rat poison in it and I get deathly ill? Too bad! You bought it!

So now I'm off to fill in my absentee ballot. I can't say that the debates last night (thank god for cnn) were impressive, but I'll be damned if I'm letting Ohio pick another dumbass for president.

Hasta manana,

JE

feeling displaced

It's difficult to pinpoint exactly what it is that is making me feel displaced. Could be that people dress up for everything here, including going to the market for pan y leche. Could be that they use a fork and knife to eat everything, including sandwiches. Could be because people talk at seeming lightning speed, whereas I understand what I hear at sloth speed. I feel like I am underdressed, even when I wear nice pants and a shirt. I feel like a neanderthal when I eat. Today I ate a burrito at the mall, and I swear I could hear 1/2 the food court snickering at me. I hadn't got a fork with my food, because I never use a fork to eat a burrito, but I felt self-conscious about it. Then I decided that it was just too much effort to wind my way back through all the tables in the food court, with a stroller and a tray of food, to get a fork. So I just tried to finish quickly, to silent the snickering, but I think that made it louder because then I was eating like a ravenous neanderthal. Ah, well. At least I couldn't understand any of the comments people made around me. And Vivi made a bigger mess eating her arrowroot cookie, so maybe I didn't look that bad.

Hoping to find the Chilean version of Miss Manners soon to learn some Espanol, and how to eat a sandwich with a fork.

food courts, traffic, and parking

So I went to the mall AGAIN because 1. I know where it is and 2. It has stuff I need. I went to get a baby carrier, like a bjorn, because I lost mine at Santa Monica Beach before we left (que lastima!) and I really liked it. We are planning on going to the Persa (huge market) this weekend, which won't be a good place for a stroller, so I want to have it for that.

Let me say that just getting to the mall is an adventure in itself because traffic here is INSANE. Makes Los Angeles seem like the wide open prairie. First, every major intersection is actually a roundabout, with cars, buses, and taxis going in and out with no warning (by that I mean signal, hand gesture, anything). There are rules, like lanes for just taxis and buses, but it's the right lane, so any cars that are turning right, at any of the many, many streets, are in that lane as well. I have yet to figure out any rhyme or reason to the parking areas. Many of the lanes for parking in a lot are dead-end, and it seems to be random as to which way traffic can go. One thing that I am struggling to get used to is that you have to pay for parking before you get to the exit, by taking your ticket to a pay kiosk, somewhere in the mall, and getting your ticket validated. It's most unfortunate to remember that you haven't done this when you've loaded a sleeping baby into the car, with lots of groceries (there's a mercado at the mall!) and you're at the exit, with tons of cars behind you. All you can do at that point is be the stupid gringo and back up (permiso! lo siento!)

So I got the baby carrier, which was $40, which isn't much. Then we (Vivi and I) went to the food court. I went to Taco Bell because Laura Perez-from here-told me about the really great cheese empanadas you can get as a side w/ your burrito (instead of fries-at Taco Bell!) I got them and have to say they were pretty tasty. Then got a frozen yogurt so Vivi could have some fruit (they blend it in fresh). She made a face at the cold at first, but then liked it. Which means she figured out how to turn around in her stoller and stand up, while buckled in, so she could open her mouth like a little bird so I could shovel more yogurt in.

We got groceries, had our traffic debaucle, and then finally left the mall parking area. Then we got lost. For an hour and a half. I once told a friend (Hi, Judy! Miss you!) that the good thing about being lost is, you're not going to be lost forever. Lucky for me, Vivi was entertained by me singing the Moo, Baa, Laa, Laa, Laa song, and then went to sleep. I did get a good view of the mountains, found another mall, and saw a horse-drawn cart almost get creamed by a taxi. And I didn't stay lost forever. Just for an hour and a half. We finally got home, and unloaded the groceries, and then I realized I had forgotten matches, which meant I couldn't cook dinner (all burners have to be individually lit). But I had bought pisco ($3!!!) and chocolate cookies at the market, so all was not lost.

broke down at the mercado

I feel like I've been doing okay with Spanish. By okay I mean that I use the sentence structure of the average Spanish-speaking 4-year-old. I feel like I use the same verbs over and over. Puedo? Can I? Tienes? You have? I am working on past and future tenses, so the people here don't think I am some whacko living in my own one-dimensional world that only happens in the present.

I was at the grocery store, the Lider Express, if you will, buying the usual things-baby wipes, water, coke zero, fresh bread, fruit. I asked where the artificial sugar was and the hombre I asked pointed to the aisle with just sugar. I know I said artificial. And I know it was the right word. But I had to look in every aisle until I found it myself. Then at the checkout the woman scanning my stuff asked if I had a discount card. I told her now, but como puedo tener una tarjeta? She sent me to the customer service desk. They sent me somewhere else. The people there sent me somewhere else. And I know this happens everywhere, but after I had hauled all my bags and pushed the stroller all over the store looking for freaking sweet-n-low, and then got sent to 3 different places, and then the people at the place where you actually apply for the discount card spoke very, very, very quickly, and looked at my visa card, and told me a bunch of stuff about it (maybe that they thought I was a crazy, one-dimensional person? Who knows?) I was like, Entonces, necesito otra tarjeta para tener esto tarjeta? Si o no? Si. Necesito otra tarjeta que mi visa tarjeta.

I was so frustrated that I didn't understand, and I have to ask someone else now, and get a resident's card (I think???) to get a freaking grocery store discount card. But I learned this: I will never be impatient with someone who is in the US as a non-native English speaker ever. I know how frustrating it is that you can't even save the $.25 on some manzanas because you don't have the right card, and you don't understand enough to know what card you need or how to get it. All you know is your card es malo so you are paying full price for apples.

Did I mention that the baby had a melt-down in the azucar aisle while I was looking for sweet-n-low, and I had to open the yet-t0-be-purchased bottle of water to make her a bottle, and the guy who sent me to that aisle (wrongly!) came over to question if I was going to pay for it.

I'll just keep repeating what I said to him: NO INTIENDO!