buying cars, making friends, first steps

So we have been told that our "stuff" is supposed to arrive on November 19th. That is assuming that the slow boat it is on isn't captured by pirates, and that the dockworkers at the Panama Canal don't go on strike, and that the truck drivers here in Chile feel like getting it to Santiago. The chances of all these things working out in the next 10 days? I'm thinking pretty unlikely. And I'll probably have a full body cavity search just so they'll unload my dishes, because security here is NO JOKE. Every house has a gate, every apartment building a doorman, every parking lot an attendant. We had to do fingerprints to get a cell phone. But I wonder-does everyone have to do that, or just sketchy-looking Americans with cute blonde babies?

Speaking of, cute blonde baby decided that it's time to start walking! Yesterday afternoon she took about 8 steps, then 4 more later. Today she's decided that was enough, and crawling is still much faster, but it was pretty exciting. We got some video, no pictures, and did lots of clapping for her. We go to the park and hang out w/ other babies and the other moms ask me if I'm sure she's only 9 months old. She's still very big for her age, with 8 teeth, but I figure it's okay. She'll go to pre-school and stomp on the other kids and I'll be called in for a conference. Cute blonde baby the bully.

So-enough bragging about the baby-back to our drama with buying things. To buy a car, you have to go and look at cars, figure out how much $ you need, go to your bank and beg for a loan for that much $, go back to the dealership with a check for the money (but only after the bank people have had a meeting and decided whether or not to give you any money), give the dealership half the money, then go back to the bank and get the other half, give that to the dealership, and then, 3-5 days later, go pick up your car. There's no going to the dealership and picking up your car the same day. But, it is what it is. I like to notice the differences, because it's how I feel I get to know a place.

There are more social events here now that we've settled a bit and we know people. That's been helpful for feeling like we belong here a bit better. A lovely British woman gave me a lesson in how to make tea properly, so if we have people over I won't have to heat water for their tea in a microwave. We went to a food festival at the International School, which was nice (and delicious-especially at the Turkey booth. Say what you want about the Turks. They may, historically, have been barbarians, but they can cook). And we went to a bbq (no sauce:( at a park in the wine region west of here.

Halloweeen was an interesting event. Kids of people in the wealthier neighborhoods dress up and trick-or-treat, but everyone else mostly views Halloween as an American holiday that is not part of their culture. The poor cannot afford to do it, and older people don't "get it." We tried to dress Vivi up as a ladybug, but she screamed, but she was willing to wear an orange shirt, black pants, and a pumpkin hat. We went to the park and saw all the other kids dressed up, but go not trick-or-treaters.

One of the best things about Santiago has to be the parks. There are open spaces everywhere, and people spend time outside, sitting, eating, and kids playing. I like that part of the culture, and I worry that when we move back to the US, Vivi will become more of an American kid (watching tv and playing video games instead of playing outside). Of course, we can encourage her to play outside, but she will want to do what other kids do....That, and the fact that the International School here is very good are making me start to think that it would be nice to stay.

But we'll see what next week brings...

I now understand

Not a damn thing about Chile, of course. Other than the fact that they use eighteen sentences to say "Can I see your ID?" and that returning anything to a store is more complicated than surgery. I understand why people gravitate back to their home countries, even when they spend most of their breath speaking badly of them. I understand that even though you know that "your country" has its host of problems, it's still where you belong.

I left the US glad to be away for a while from the entitlement, political correctness, media drama about celebrities, badly-behaved children, bad parenting, and processed food.

What I wasn't prepared for is how used to these things I actually am, and how they do in some ways benefit me. Children may not always behave in the US, but they are raised most of the time by their parents, not nannies. Children may have melt-downs at Super Target, but it's often because women work and have to take their children with them after a long day at work. So when we are out with Vivi, and she gets tired, or fed up w/ being in her stroller, people don't look at us with sympathy, because we've both had a long day. They wonder why I didn't leave her with the nanny and go shopping on my own. Or, stay at home with her and send the maid to the store.

People feeling entitled means that stores and restaurants know that people expect to get what they pay for. Which means when you buy a product, and it breaks, you return it for your money or a new one. Ahhhhaaa! laugh the retailers of Santiago. "We'll call you next week." That's what you're told when you have a problem.

A major issue in the US right now is health care. But let me tell you, it's not so bad. Last week, I went to the dr. with a urinary tract infection. I knew I had one, because I had a litmus test you can buy at drug stores in the US. The doctor took my temperature by putting his hand on my forehead and had me urinate in a bedpan so he could "take a look at it." I did get antibiotics, but it seemed a bit, well, non-medical, to me.

But the thing is this: I am sure that people who are from here are fine with it, and if they live in the US, they may find the medical care impersonal (I guess taking someone's temperature w/ a thermometer is a bit impersonal, even if it is under the tongue).

It's the little things-the fact that you pay for parking before you get in your car, not at the gate, having to have produce and bread weighed before checking out at the supermercado, having to get a ticket with a number for EVERYTHING, even if no one else is in line, that make me feel like I don't belong here. People are nice enough, even if they do blather on and speak way too fast. But I'm just not used to the systems. And I think that's what people miss when they live away from home-systems that they are used to. Not having to think about everything. Not having to search for words to say that you did something yesterday, because all the verbs you know are in present tense.

So even though the US has many flaws, I know I will be glad when we go back. Because I am a flawed product of its systems, which I now understand.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

ventures in Valpo, Mercado Central

Last weekend we ventured out to the Mercado Central in Santiago on Saturday and to Valparaiso on the coast on Sunday. We took the subway to the market, which was no easy feat with a baby, her stroller, and all her crap. But the subway was pretty good-clean, with lots of shops in the stations (not just kiosks with gum and soda, but real shops). And having a cute blonde baby with you does help in getting a seat on a jampackedwithpeople train.

First we looked around the fish market, which also has restaurants and other stands, with herbs and some vegetables. It's an enclosed building, so the fish must be really fresh, or we would have died from the smell. We have seen dogs all over Santaigo, but no cats. It's because they're all hanging out at the fish market.


Behind the fish market building, there is a pedestrian mall where there are lots of stores, street performers, and people

just hanging out. We saw Barney (did NOT take Vivi to talk to him. Stupid purple dinosaur), a Barney knock-off, and some people dancing around promoting-religion? dancing? and handing out cookies (which we did not eat). Beyond this is the Plaza de Armas. It has lots of trees, a nice fountain in the middle, and giant, intrusive, orange light poles all over it. I thought it would be really nice without the light poles, but I'm guessing my input is not desired at this time. We wandered into the church (did not take pix, even though others were, because I think it's rude when people are praying), dipped Vivi's feet in the fountain, and said hello to Spider Man.

The mammals got in on the picture action by the fountain as well. Before we left, we realized that on the other side of the river, there is a vegetable and flower market. We wandered through briefly, but we were getting tired, and we still had to haul cute blonde baby and all her stuff back through the subway, and then home from the station.

Next time, we will explore further to see what we missed, and maybe get brave enough to buy some fish.

Water didn't look too gross, but didn't seem like a good idea to stick her hands in, which she would immediately put in her mouth.











Before she got freaked out and reached for mom.


















Mammals by fountain in Plaza de Armas.


















Vineyards along the highway on the drive from Santiago to Valparaiso. There are also TONS of yellow poppies, which remind us of California.











View of port/harbor from one of the hills in Valparaiso.













We took an acensor (outdoor elevator) up the hill. It was built in 1882. I think Vivi's expression means, "Uh, mom, are you sure this is safe?"










Valparaiso is all about walking around the hilly cobblestone streets and admiring the view and quirky buildings.












Having too much fun at lunch. We stopped at a great little restaurant on the edge of the hill, and had wonderful food. Coconut mahi mahi skewers, crab pastry, cold beer, pisco sours, and Lucema ice cream for dessert.










The view down a street in Valparaiso.

Cute blonde baby who is our ticket to a seat on the subway.

la comida

I have a lot of things to say about the people in Chile, but one thing's for sure: you cannot generally dislike a people who eat as much ice cream as they do. When I go out to run errands in the afternoon, people everywhere are carrying ice cream cones. Big ones. The ice cream is good, too. You can get the standard European crap that you buy on the street-junk on a stick w/ a chocolate coating, but there are also an abundance of ice cream shops like the ones in Italy-with seemingly neverending rows of huge vats of various flavors. The trick for me is to remember to pay before I spend a lot of time salivating over what I want, and then have the person doing the scooping point me to the register. But alas, the wait is worth it. They heap creamy, flavorful, colorful portions onto a waffle. And it doesn't melt fast, so you can spend time enjoying it. So people here may drive like assholes, and talk waayyy too quickly, but they do appreciate their helado. Which makes me fit in just a little bit.

There are not, however, a lot of pizza places, relatively speaking. And when you ask people what the best pizza is, you generally get the same answer: "Dominoes." Which made us cringe, because compared to a lot of pizza places in the US, Dominoes sucks. But here, it doesn't. The wings, which are kind of spicy, and kind of sweet, are wonderful. The toppings are heaped to the edge of the pizza, until there's almost no crust. And the ingredients are pretty fresh. So, live and learn. A restaurant that sucks somewhere else may actually be pretty good here. Although I'm not holding my breath about Pizza Hut.

Of course, we are making an effort to eat the local food as well. We drove through the mountains last weekend and sampled the homemade empanadas that can be found along the road, designated by white flags. We discovered that we do not like one of the common ones, called pino, which has ground beef, olives, eggs, onions, and spices. It just tastes weird. I think it's the olives, which aren't really to my liking. I go w/ the straight cheese empanadas. Fried-good. Cheese-good. Fried stuff w/ cheese-gooooood.

So I don't bore people half to death (or starvation), here's a quick summary of what else I have discovered about Chilean food: produce-good; bread-good (very fresh-you have to watch people waiting for the fresh bread to be put in the bins, and then stampede w/ them to get it); wine-good and cheap; pisco-ditto ($3 a bottle!); baby fo0d-not good-no veggies and sugar added to everything. I've had to go all granola and start making my own.

When I get back to the US next June, I am going to have a meal of: Diet Dr. Pepper, Chicago-style pizza, Calamata Olives, Bourbon, and cheesecake.

While you are gorging yourselves on Thanksgiving, please think of me, cause there's no Stove Top to be found, no pumpkins for pies, and certainly no giant, giant turkeys. But maybe I'll learn how to make empanadas, then go out for ice cream...

ibamos de santiago

For those of you who don't know, we have acquired the "mammals" over the years (the chicken was a cat toy, but then became an honorary mammal). We take them everywhere, and take amusing (to us, at least), pictures of them all over the world. They have been to Rome (took toga pix at Colloseum), Morocco (they rode the camels), Hawaii (to the telescope and hiking), London, Norway, Paris (top of Eiffel Tower), and all over the States.

Here the chicken is mocking the encaged birds who will never feel his joy of freedom.

Here are all the mammals in front of chicken cages. The Monkey almost always wears his red turban. The Rabbit did have a UCLA shirt, but we think it got lost in the move. He's moved on, anyway: "Go Dodgers!"










Stuartt and Vivi looking at the goats













Jenn and Vivi by the river (it was a bit chilly).













We took a drive into the Rio de Maipo valley this past Saturday to get out of the city for a few
hours. Unfortunately for us, the guidebook we have (Insight) has the worst maps ever, so it wasn't totally clear how to get there. We took the longest possible route, but eventually arrived in a canyon with a nice view of the river and of the high mountains.





We found a park to have lunch in, which seemed like it might have great potential (cafeteria, zoo, playground). So we paid our $10 (a bit steep!) and headed in to the zoo. It had chickens, goats, one llama, and some sheep (so not really a zoo, but Vivi did enjoy it). Then we went to the cafeteria, but right next to it there was a soccer field, with people playing soccer, and BLASTING music. Not exactly our idea of a tranquil mountain outting. (And it unfortunately reminded us of weekends in the parks in LA-a bunch of people playing soccer and blasting music:(





So we drove on, stopping in the main town in the canyon to buy fruit (for Vivi) and empanadas (for ourselves). We got the del horno (baked) kind, cheese and pino. We mistook pino for pina (pineapple) and were surprised when we got meat instead of fruit. Later Mr. Google told us that pino empanadas have ground beef, olives, cheese, hard-boiled egg, onions, and certain spices, like cumin. I do NOT like them, though I will eat them if excessively hungry. I prefer just plain ole queso ones. On the way back, we felt a bit cheated, because we only ate 2 of the 4 small ones we had bought, and didn't want the pino ones, and are relatively inexpensive, so we stopped to get more. This time, no horno, which means they were fried. They were made fresh, stuffed with cheese, crispy, hot, and very good.





We also stopped by the side of the road and walked down to the river. There was a manual cable car that you could sit it and pull yourself across in. I might have done it by myself but 1.) not w/ a baby and 2.) it was locked. So we just walked along the river a bit, and noticed that all the good stopping points for cars are also good stopping points for trash-dumpers. So one can enjoy the beauty of nature, as long as that person is willing to ignore the occassional slide of refuse down the hillside.





Our drive home was much easier, as we could figure out the map this time. We thought about stopping at some of the white flags (signal for homemade goods, such as empanadas, bread, or jams), but we were quite full of cheese empanadas, it was a cool, cloudy day, and it was getting cooler. So we headed for the warmth of our **home**.

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"