la discriminación en Chile

Chilean society is very conservative. Until 2000, no divorce law existed. You could get a marriage annulled, however. When people got married, they would intentionally lie on their marriage license about something so that if and when the time came for divorce, they could say "Look, it says here that María lived at Calle Roble 43, but she actually lived at Calle Roble 44!" The judge would then grant the annulment.

In a country with an economy growing as quickly as Chile's, it is easy to understand everyone's preoccupations with money and obsession with keeping up appearances. Hatred of the poor is rampant in Chile. Chileans call themselves "white" because they abhor the thought of "inferior" native blood running through their veins. I haven't had a hard time here as far as discrimination on appearance goes, but only because I think I embody what Chileans really think they are: fair-skinned, light hair, light eyes. I would like to point out, though, that I stick out like a sore thumb here. Wanting to be something and actually being it are two different things.

In yesterday's edition of La Tercera, I found these rather unsurprising survey results:

Study reveals that 92% of Chileans consider themselves discriminatory
The principal factor of discrimination is socio-economic level


517 Chileans were asked, "On what basis do you discriminate against other people?"

37% - Being poor
24% - Skin color/physical appearance
9% - Not being well-educated
8% - Being elderly
5% - Being handicapped
4% - Being of foreign origin
3% - Sexual orientation
3% - Place of origin
3% - Being an indigenous person
3% - Being a woman
1% - Being "nobody important"

I say BOLLOCKS to pretty much this whole survey. I don't think people were very honest with their answers. The only thing worse than being poor in Chile is being of indigenous descent. Even today, the cries for more legal protection on behalf of the indigenous peoples of Chile are ignored. The more "westernized" Chileans do everything they can to distance themselves from the inescapable fact that the vast majority of them have some indigenous genes mixed in with European blood. As for the sexual orientation factor; well, Chile is a Latin American country, and while it isn't as "machista" as other nations, the "machista" factor still factors into the Chilean mindset.

While I strongly disagree with the results of this survey, I think it does show how difficult it is for a rapidly-developing society to come to terms with itself. Although Chile's president is a woman and a socialist, women still make on average much less than their male counterparts, and the poor in Chile just keep getting poorer.

Lonely Planet vs. Footprint

Just as there are different sorts of travelers, there are also different sorts of guidebooks. Before coming to Chile, I picked up a copy of Lonely Planet's Chile & Easter Island, which has become my Bible when traveling around this country. This book is ubiquitous. The blue cover is so easy to spot in the hands of foreigners in any touristy corner of Chile, although the title might be different: Chili et Île de Pâques, Chile und Osterinsel, etc.

Before going to Bolivia, I borrowed a copy of Footprint Bolivia from the study abroad office. Footprint is well-known for their iconic South American Handbook, which has been in publication through various editions since 1924. (Francisco, my Chilean flatmate, has a copy of the 1957 edition. Some notable differences between the 1957 edition and the 2003 edition: the inclusion of photographs, and the "telegraph" section has been replaced with "telephone and internet". There is also focus on travel by steamship in the 1957 edition.)

I have chosen to review and compare the Footprint and Lonely Planet guidebooks because they are geared towards the same demographic: a younger, more independent traveler who probably has a flexible schedule and doesn't mind foregoing luxury for a little bit of adventure. Older travelers with a larger budget and people who are on package tours would probably not find either publisher to be as well-suited to their trip as, say, Frommer's. For my comparing/contrasting, I am using Lonely Planet's Chile & Easter Island and Brazil; Footprint's South American Handbook 2003 and Bolivia. For the sake of saving keystrokes, from here on Lonely Planet will be abbreviated to LP, and Footprint to FP.

Size: This is an important factor for people with limited suitcase/backpack space. The LP guidebooks are smaller in terms of page size than the FP guides. I found the smaller size of the LP books less of an annoyance when carting them around in my daypack.
Durability: Older editions of LP advertise the fact that the spine of the book is stitched for durability. I am not sure if the newer editions also have stitched spines. I have opened and closed my latest-edition LP Chile & Easter Island hundreds of times, and the spine has not creased nor has the binding begun to separate from the pages. The FP guides seem to have less-sturdy bindings. My South American Handbook is held together by a rubber band when not in use, and individual pages have begun to separate from the rest.
Practical Info: I find both LP and FP to provide a similar quality and quantity of practical info such as travel planning/logistics and very basic cultural/historical info. Both guides contain a chapter on language with basic phrases and very basic pronunciation help, but I really couldn't say if one book's language section is better than another's because I have not had to make use of them.
Layout: Both guides divide countries/regions by political boundaries, and then separate the sections further by town. Further divisions are by category of services: lodging, restaurants, activities, etc. The LP guides use bold headings in the body of the text to separate sections, while the FP uses headings in the margin of the pages. I like the font of the FP guides better than the LP font; it is easier on the eyes.
Style: LP uses a decidedly more chatty style of writing than FP, which can get annoying. I don't want a guidebook to "chirp" at me; rather, it should speak like an all-knowing entity (think "Mirror, mirror, on the wall") which provides help when necessary but shuts up when not needed.
Rating system: I like the FP system of assigning a letter to each place of accommodation. "LL" designates a very luxurious and expensive hotel, while "G" would correspond with (presumably) a straw mat on the floor and a cold shower. This letter system is much more specific than LP's use of "budget", "midrange", and "expensive" categories. I find LP to usually impart a slightly more detailed description of restaurants and accommodation.
Ads: LP touts the fact that it is ad-free. FP has ads, although they are not intrusive, easy to ignore, and probably comprise less than 3% of page space in the entire book.
Maps: The quality of the maps at city-level is similar in both guides. FP's color maps at national level are far better and far more detailed than LP's black-and-white sketches.
Inside covers: LP incorporates a metric/imperial conversion chart on the inside cover of their guides, as well as a few basic phrases in the local language, emergency telephone numbers, currency exchange rates (probably out-of-date by the time you buy it anyway), and a key for symbols used in the book. FP only decodes their letter rating system used for accommodation and has a table of contents on their inside cover.

I don't really endorse one guide over another, but I am slightly more biased towards the Footprint guides because I like the overall layout and style better. Both books are both well-researched and will serve the more independent traveler well.

a pedestrian's guide to Santiago

"Matt, what is the most annoying thing about Chile?"

Good question! I have had almost 7 months to ponder this. There are many annoying things about living here. Some are annoying on a moral level, e.g. the fact that Chile has one of the most unequal distributions of income in the world. Some are annoying on an organizational level, e.g. the daunting bureaucratic processes that one must endure to accomplish any sort of official task.

However, I will choose to elaborate on an annoyance which I face numerous times a day. The most annoying thing about Chile is the fact that Chileans have no idea how to walk in public.

This may seem contrite to you. In Kentucky, there is actually a verb for walking aimlessly at a slow pace ("to mosey"). Some odd alteration of genetics (probably from my mother's side as she likes to walk) has made me a naturally quick walker. In addition, my time spent on the East Coast has taught me that those who "mosey" lose the "survival of the fittest" game.

I used to assume that people in cities always walk quickly. I also assumed that urban pedestrians had some sort of internal "radar" hardwired into their brains. This radar would allow them to to anticipate the movements of other pedestrians, to execute swift overtaking of slower walkers without bumping into others, and to time their pace so that a red light would never be encountered. Well, you know what happens when you assume. I couldn't have been more wrong about the average Chilean pedestrian. Imagine the most countrified person, ever, being kidnapped from their mountainside shack and then being released at the corner of 52nd Street and Madison Ave. in Manhattan. They would probably walk slightly faster (and with a little more purpose) than the average person in Santiago.

This is a daily account of walking in Santiago: I am in a hurry. I need to walk two blocks from my apartment to the Metro. I step out of the elevator and and immediately am tackled by some old lady with shopping bags who refuses to give me courtesy of stepping out of the elevator before she gets on. I push my way through her bags, only to find a traffic jam at the door of the building. There are two doors, but everyone is lined up at one. It doesn't occur to anyone to just go open the other door for themselves and bypass the line. On the street, a group of ugly teenage girls, dressed in the emo-style which is so fashionable here, is taking up the entire sidewalk. I must step into the street to pass them. Up ahead is a middle-aged man who is the only person around for yards. I move to pass him also, but at the last minute he decides to walk diagonally and crashes into me. I groan and move ahead. The entrance of the Metro is in sight. At the top of the stairs the woman in front of me walking at an acceptable pace suddenly STOPS completely (the cardinal sin of urban walking; automatic damnation to the fiery flames forever) , causing a chain reaction. I crash into her and almost shove her down the stairs. She mutters something about me having no shame, but I'm already halfway down the stairs, leaving a dust trail. I pass my Bip! card and go through the turnstile, only to almost run head-on into someone walking up the down side of the staircase. This is despite the fact that there are signs everywhere asking people to "walk on the right". Vehicular traffic moves on the right in Chile, so this is not a new concept.

I suppose that my frustrations and my walking style come from cultural differences. In Chile, no one is ever in a hurry. Being an American, I am usually in a hurry, even if it is only imagined. I once said that I would never become Chilean in my drinking habits; well, I won't become Chilean in my walking habits, either. If you see a green-eyed lightning bolt racing down Avenida Providencia, that's me. And if you really want to make my day, position yourself directly in front of me, and then stop as though someone tore the batteries out of you. I'll give you one of those push starts that people use on cars. Maybe I should have saved the "Royal Bitch" picture for this post.

clases

Now that the semester is in full swing, I will update everyone on the class situation. I have four classes in total. Two are at La Universidad Pontificia Católica de Chile, one is at La Universidad de Chile, and one is through the study-abroad program.

- Spanish Phonetics & Phonology. I am (I think) one of two foreign students in the class. There are about 25 Chileans. I have had some exposure to the subject before, back at Georgetown, so I'm not too worried about the level of difficulty.
- Spanish of Chile. I am the only gringo in this class. It is going to be very hard, but should be very rewarding. Chilean Spanish is weird; centuries of isolation have made the dialect very different from surrounding countries'. This class aims to analyze the dialect spoken in Chile.
- Sociolinguistics. This class is important to me because it is my field of interest within Linguistics. Again, I have had some exposure to the material before so I am not that worried about it. I think the final project will be difficult, though.
- Human Rights & Historical Memory. This is the class with the study-abroad program. It focuses on the military dictatorship headed by Gen. Pinochet from 1973-1990. This time period is without a doubt the most controversial factor in Chilean politics, even today. There were lots of human rights abuses during the dictatorship (people were tortured, murdered, and "disappeared" - read: flown out over the Pacific and thrown out of the plane.) I know that this class will be very emotionally intense (I still get very angry about the effect of Pinochet on Chilean society today), but the professor is excellent and I know that I will be glad I took the class.

I am also filling two evenings a week teaching English at a language institute. I kind of accidentally fell into the job, but it will provide some pocket money and the chance to add international work experience to the resume.

This semester will be busy, but the time will probably pass very quickly. It's hard to believe that I have been in Chile for 6.5 months, and only have a little more than 3.5 months left.

In other news, I daresay that spring is on the way. The forecast for the next few days is ample sunshine with temps reaching 70F. Nights are still cold, though.

PS If anyone finds a bottle of "Royal Bitch" wine, let me know.

el secreto del pan amasado

Below is an excerpt from an e-mail I sent to my friend Amy. Chilean cuisine was something of a mystery to me before coming here. I would have never guessed that bread is such a staple in the local diet.

"Chileans looooove bread. They eat it with
every meal. On occasion, Nora would buy this delicious
bread called "pan amasado". It was my favorite because
it tasted so good and had a delicious soft center.
When I moved into my new apartment, I went grocery
shopping and bought 2 rolls of pan amasado. Then my
friend Liz came over and I offered to make her a
sandwich. We talked about how good pan amasado is, and
then Liz said, "too bad it's made out of lard". I was
nearly hysterical. "What?!?!?" I screamed. "Lard?!?!?"

Needless to say, I am glad that Nora only bought pan
amasado on occasion and not everyday, like Liz's host
parents did. Otherwise I would probably weigh about 10
pounds more and have no idea why, because Nora never
told me the dirty little secret of the pan amasado."

el nuevo departamento

I've been here for a month now, so it's about time you all see photos. I feel really lucky to have found this apartment. It is in an excellent location and is very spacious for a Chilean apartment. My bedroom is easily three times larger than my old one at Nora's, and I now have a built-in closet instead of an armoire. The hot water comes from a boiler and not a calefont, which means scalding hot water without having to traipse barefoot into the kitchen to light the pilot. I'm a big fan of hardwood floors, and we have them throughout. There is also a small balcony, and twice a week we have maid service. All this and I pay about a fourth of what I would pay for a similar situation in Washington DC.

And the view! We live on the eighth floor of a thirty-story building, and from my bedroom I can see a park with a fountain, downtown Santiago, and some of the Andes. The bottom picture is the view from my bedroom.

All of my flatmates are very laid-back twenty-somethings. I think we are all very similar people. My Chilean flatmate is doing a master's in international business at the University of Chile and working for CEPAL, the UN-affiliated economic committee for Latin America. My Canadian flatmate is working for Human Rights Watch and going to Harvard next month to start a doctorate. My German flatmate is, like me, a foreign-exchange student here. She is studying organic farming.

While it was a good learning experience to actually live in a Chilean household, I am enjoying being independent again and I think this semester will give me the chance to experience another side to living in a foreign country.

¡nieve!

Last night, it started snowing. And I don't mean a flurry; it was a legit snow shower. What's more, it was sticking to the ground. I had just finished watching "Thelma & Louise" on TV when one of my flatmates told me to look out of the window. The Chileans were freaking out. It is not uncommon for the eastern neighborhoods of Santiago to get a light dusting once a year, as they sit at a higher altitude next to the cordillera. My neighborhood, Providencia, had not seen snow in something like 30 years.

This snow just adds insult to injury. While Kentucky bakes under a heat wave, Santiago is going through its coldest winter in 40 years. The palm trees here are just devices for mockery. I actually saw some with snow on them today, but didn't have my camera handy. The photo was taken this morning from my apartment. The snow was gone by afternoon, but it sure looked pretty while it lasted. The hill is called Cerro San Cristobal and it effectively sits right in the middle of the city. An older lady told me that she had never seen it covered with snow like this before.

Vocabulary lesson of the day: in Spanish, children (and adults, too, if they're from Santiago) build monos de nieve ("snow monkeys"), not hombres de nieve.

el futuro de Bolivia

I've enjoyed every place that I've visited during this year away, but Bolivia will, I think, stick out a little more in my mind than the others. It is a country with a troubled past (it holds the world record for most coups d'etat; I can't remember the official count, but well over 100 in the last 100 years) and a very unclear future. Today in La Tercera, one of Santiago's dailies, there was an article quoting Evo Morales (president of Bolivia) as saying that "In 10...15...20 years, Bolivia will be better than Switzerland." Considering Switzerland is one of the world's richest countries with a very high quality of life, and Bolivia is, well, pretty much the exact opposite of that, the statement is a little difficult to take seriously. Morales probably chose Switzerland as a comparison with Bolivia because it, too, is a land-locked country.

As the "capital city debate" continues, so do economic problems and growing movements within the country for autonomy. I arrived in Bolivia just as the official rate-of-inflation had risen from 0.65% to 2.68%, and Mauricio was always quick to point out that most of the economic growth in Bolivia today occurs in the eastern lowlands around the city of Santa Cruz, now Bolivia's largest city and far away from La Paz in terms of geography, culture, and wealth. The wealthier eastern region, along with the Amazon-basin in the north, feels the need to distance itself from La Paz. I never heard the word "secession" used, but perhaps this will be a word heard in Bolivia a few decades from now.

"I don't have hope for Bolivia," Mauricio told me one day as we discussed the state of his country. This was one of the saddest things I have ever heard someone say. No matter how dissatisfied I might feel about certain aspects of my own country, I always have hope for America. For someone to admit they don't have hope for their country is, to me, like saying they don't have hope for themselves or for their countrymen. But I suppose some of Mauricio's countrymen have failed the rest of Bolivians through their corrupt governments. Mauricio is moving to Barcelona next year, and I wonder if he'll ever go back to Bolivia to live again.

Check this BBC article out to get another perspective. I hope to visit Bolivia again one day only to find it looking at a more optimistic situation.

Bolivia part 4: Lago Titicaca

Bolivia is a land-locked country. In the late 1800s, Chile fought Bolivia and Peru in the War of the Pacific. Chile won, and took over administration of land bordering the Pacific Ocean which Bolivia had previously controlled. Relations between Chile and Bolivia are still sour to this day over this fact. In fact, there are no official diplomatic relations between the two countries.

After the War of the Pacific, Bolivia opted to keep its naval forces in operation and moved the entire regiment to Lake Titicaca. It is the world's highest navigable lake at over 12,500ft ASL. It is an easy day trip from La Paz, and one Sunday Mauricio took me along with another friend to its shores for lunch.

The poverty of Bolivia is very evident driving along the altiplano towards the lake. Most of the houses are made out of earthen bricks, and the towns sit baking under the high-altitude sun. The soil is very poor, meaning that food cultivation is limited to potatoes. Vans packed with people on their way to/from La Paz speed down the straight, flat highway which is miraculously paved.

The lake was a beautiful sight. Its waters are very blue, and in the thin air the contrast with the brown earth is startling. We ate lunch in a restaurant on the shore, and then hired a boat to take us out on the water. I did not know that the lake is actually two lakes connected by a straight. The lake straddles the border between Peru and Bolivia. The Bolivians kept talking about how dirty the Peruvian side is: "Titi for us, Caca for them," they laughed. ("Caca" is Spanish for "crap".)