Those last few days: Thank you, Chile.

Today was a wonderful rainy day. With my classes all finished and the wind whistling against my window, I stayed warm inside all day -while studying for that fateful public health final. I’m in this cozy homebody mode that makes me think of fuzzy hats and steaming tea. Mmmmmm. This comfort comes, in large part, from absolutely adoring my host family and feeling quite at home amongst their soft comings and goings. I can drift into my host mother’s room to sit at the side of her bed as she reclines, knitting a nice café colored sweater. Brown is the only color she will wear this year, having promised this token of thanks to the Almighty for having helped her eldest son through the pains of cancer. I admire her strength. We sit, chatting aimlessly as my mind decompresses from the hours of endless studying: estudios de caso y control, factores protectores psicosociales, tasas crudos y naturals…I’m working on putting neat little mental labels onto this torrent of information.

I am here, and yet I am gone. I’m blissfully comfortable, and yet I have my frustrations. I will return to this home of mine, but I don’t know when. I am here, but my mind is already moving onward to my travels, excited for Robert’s arrival to this lovely country. I’m so comfy with my host family and Chilean customs, and yet the bureaucracy and inflexible educational system have given me enough end-of-semester stress to last a lifetime and make me long for Scripps College. The difficulties that have come with my public health class are certainly part of why my mind has already left Chile to reside in, perhaps, Bolivia or Peru; since I’m toiling to complete my school work and have dropped nearly all other activities to do so, it feels like I have already left the life I created for myself here and entered into a new one. Or, rather than a new one, a transitional phase –that gray waiting room that leads to an expansive patio of brilliant colors; it’s no wonder that my mind keeps skipping on ahead to that vibrant expectancy! But as I say, the gray waiting room is tinged with a rosy hue thanks to the love I have for my host family and the endearing reprieves that they provide for me around mealtimes and study breaks.

Yes, I love this place. I love its colors and I love its people. I adore the joking and playfulness that permeate the climbing gym atmosphere. I appreciate the spectacular oceanic views that arise around those golden sunsets and after all nightlights have been lit, like a starry blanket draped over undulating land and water. I am tickled pink by my cute little room and the greenery that garnishes my wide-window view. And I can’t help but feel quite at home with another neat-freak in the house; me and my host mom get along very well in this regard! I’ve loved the children who I’ve taught and learned from through my internship, and I just might sell my soul for a lifetime supply of pan amasada. The people are quirky and unique –nothing like Spain or Senegal, Thailand or the USA- and I really enjoy coming to understand their tendencies and their perceptions of themselves. And, of course, I’m head over heels for Spanish. *sigh *

But what would I change about Valparaíso, Chile if I could? They are few. I would: 1) Instill flexibility in the educational system. 2) Give every stray dog on the street a loving home. (This goes beyond benevolence and straight into the realm of public health.) 3) Put a smile on every bus driver’s troubled face. And 4) Replace every cigarette with a potted plant and every smoker with a tree-hugger.

Yes, Chile will always hold a piece of my heart, just as Spain can claim my love and California will always be my home. Thank you for the creative space you have given me, Chile. Thank you for your disregard to time and your strong pride. Thank you for your graffiti-smattered allies and your hills of children-blocks primary colors. You have instilled your colors in my heart and your delicious fresh produce in my appreciative stomach. I would that I could contain My Chile and My California all in one country, but alas, they are both too full and beautiful to collide and loose themselves within one another. At the very least, I can let them meld together within me and let my eyes reflect the loving sustenance that each has to offer.

The next time you see me, give me a hug –and that hug will be, in part, from Chile.

Love,

Jocelyn

Family

Having a loving family is a gift. You can imagine, then, what a veritable wonder it is to have three or even four! It is in the home that we develop our first understanding of love, responsibility, and reciprocity. It is there that we construct a foundation of values, principles and habits that facilitate our relationship with society, other individuals, ourselves, and our own health. We go to college and we question all of these principles and lifelong assumptions –or perhaps we begin to examine them upon leaving home and entering the workplace. But wherever our learning environment, we all come to a point when we take those childhood lessons and reincorporate them into a coherent whole: Ourselves. It is quite an experience, then, to return to the seat of childhood at this age by being placed -plop!- into the middle of a new family and a novel pool of values and ideas. And yet, one retains that former lifetime of learning, using this new environment as a means of reflecting upon the former.

But more than serving as a point of comparison, this familial nucleus bestows its own lessons, its own valuable ideas, its own handy habits. Through my integration into my loving Chilean family, my host parents have exposed me to a number of wonderful characteristics that build upon and strengthen my personal foundation. Through their patience and open-mindedness, they have communicated that which they hold dear.

For one, I may have had a wonderful example of a loving, committed pair in the form of my own parents, but my host parents have reinforced my understanding of what makes up a long-lasting, caring relationship. Patterns emerge; ah, yes! Both couples of parents are always there for each other, ready to share time and energy, and, above all, always looking to keep the other at their side in their many life pursuits. Now I know to look for this continual giving, sharing, and accompanying in my own relationships.

My own parents may have pointed me towards an acceptance of those who are different from me, but my host parents show me how this can be done through their own learning experiences; hosting a Jewish-American student as a Chilean of Palestinian heritage can provide a massive stereotype overhaul for everyone involved, for example. My host parents have shown me how to maintain a pristine house and a instructed me in a new, exceptional way of preparing an egg. My host mother has exemplified a profound love of cooking that I never grew up with and my host father has taught me new was of debating ideas.

The entire family has given me the tremendous gift of showing me just how close-knit a family can be and exactly what this life-long intimacy requires at a logistical level. My Senegalese host family and host culture may have opened my eyes to a valuing of family that I discovered I shared, but my Chilean family has helped that appreciation sink in more deeply, maturing with understanding and growing more committed as I see that is it, in fact, possible to maintain a unified extended family. I come from a family that, for the most part, unites around holidays and seldomly communes with the uncles and aunts otherwise. I view my parents, Grandmother, and siblings as paramount within my life, so the knowledge that we can build such a beautiful commitment to one another as that which I see here in my Chilean family is heartwarming. Ours is a culture of loving and leaving and making our way in life –intrepid travelers scattered around the states and pulled around my economic strings. Now I see with clarity that that is not the only way.

A little about my host family and the learning experience.

There is much that I have learned here in the last week and a half, not the least of which was figuring out how to lock and unlock my bedroom door with this old-fashioned key. It took me about five minutes each try for the first several days. Assane, my host cousin, kindly taught me today how to flush the toilet; this involves pouring a bucket of water into the toilet. I was overjoyed at the revelation! Basically, I'm back to being 2 again, which makes three of us in this household! Junior and Noh-Noh are two fabulous little tykes who keep our home lively, to say the least. You may note them in my new profile picture that I absolutely adore! Junior is the son of Jou-Jou, my adult host brother, and his wife whose name I'm having difficulty remembering. My host sister Melanie is mother to Noh-Noh, but her husband is currently working in Italy. I believe that I have another host sibling who is currently living in London. My cousins Assane -the toilet teacher- and Chantalle both live with us as well as the two bonnes, or maids, who go back to their homes on Sundays. One of them is called Mare but the other has a name that I have difficulty pronouncing. She's the one depicted in the photo with Noh-Noh on the upper left corner of this post. The matriarch of this whole household is my maman (host mom) Elizabethe. This is a catholic household residing in a house of two stories plus a terrace in the midst of the neighborhood of Mermoz -only a 15 minute walk from the seaside campus of Suffolk University where I take my classes. The photo above and to the right is the view from my second story room into the central courtyard. I hope to post more photos of my family as the opportunity arises. I'm still hesitant to impose myself upon them, particularly since the "inside" dress is very different from how one dresses "outside."


A view over the terrace.

This picture is from the off campus
dorms that I resided in last week. It is the first rain, and we're taking full advantage of the fact that we're not visible from this balcony. Others may have been enjoying a nice run through the rain, but I doubt they were able
to enjoy it in a sports bra!




This is Annie, my rain buddy.









This is a car rapide -a sort of public transit- that involves a guy hanging off the back and shouting the bus destination to passerbys. You knock a coin on the ceiling or side or the vehicle to signal the driver that you want to get off.

Loves of the First Week

Saalaamalekum!

Albeit a French country and although I just took a class in Wolof language, I am currently listening to a Spanish song by Juanes that captures my current sentiments quite well: "Hay tantas cosas que me gustan hoy de ti. Me enamora!" There is so much that I like about this country today that I fall in love. :-)

Love #1: Teranga
This is a Wolof word embodying the open arms and hospitality of the Senegalese people. Each and every one of them considers themselves embassadors for their country, creating relations with America through us. They love us, want us to return frequently, and hope that we'll send home wonderful stories of Senegal. I shared a heartfelt conversation about teranga with Amadou, the doorman at my current dorm. In speaking with another exchange student, I came to learn that this kindly Senegalese man had need of une torche (a flashlight) to save him from having to feel his way up the stairwell in search of intruders throughout his night watch. Thus, the two of us decided to purchase one as a gift for him. His pure joy shone through as he thanked me and explained how this was true teranga, something that one did from the heart instead of out of self interest. He has invited us to come and meet his family at his home in a nearby banlieu (a sort of ghetto), which we are looking forward to greatly. Amadou spends his rainy shifts sweeping water off of the entryway patio in order to prevent the lower level of our residence from flooding. He then returns to a home where he must sweep the water off of his flat roof and wade in water knee high. In light of these habitual conditions of some locals, the other students on our program who were flooded out of a second set of dorms on their first day here do not feel at all out of place. Their experience of rushing luggage away from the deluge in their rooms and onto a bus headed toward a nice, dry hotel was truly a luxury in comparison to local banlieu inhabitants.

But I digress. I was describing the hospitality and friendliness of the people here. They honestly do want to treat you the way that they'd have their own children treated aboad, in spite of the fact that we're also viewed as walking money bags by the vendors and beggars. Frankly, the multiple requests for our phone numbers, as white American women here, is also indicative of certain financial expectations. Apparently I can expect several marriage proposals in the comming months. If any of you are desirous of a Senegalese husband, just send me a note saying so and I'll pass it along. You'll be hooked up in no time!

Love #2: The fruit bats
Oh yeah, baby! You thought mangos were good in the states, but they cannot compare with the delicacies that suspend in the embrace of these local chauves-souris. From the balcony of our rooms, we can witness the swooping flight of these winged mammals up-close and personal. Cuping their mango du jour, they hang out, reaching over to snag a tasty morsel from a nearby limb and looking quite cute, actually! I hope I have such great entertainment when I move in with my host family! Speaking of which, I'll be meeting them tonight. I'm in a matriachal Catholic family with a widdowed host mother, Elizabethe, who has several married children living in her home along with four grandchildren: a six-year-old, two toddlers, and an infant. I'm excited to meet them. :-)

Love #3: Balcony Dancing (shadows included!)
Gym membership is not yet activated and there is little time for seeking out climbing these days, so one must take excercise into one's own hands. Ab workouts are great and all, but I need a little more breathing and blood-pumping going on to make it a true workout. That's were dancing comes in; apparently no one can see me from my balcony, so my ipod and myself just get jiggy. No better way, I tell ya! I can twirl around there, trying any number of moves that might draw stares at a club, and just let loose without a single witness besides the fruit bats and my own shadow. The shadow itself can be quite entertaining at times. You should check it out one of these days! Just get yourself some good lighting and a fabulous tune in your head and see how that shadow can be the source of perpetual fun!

Okay, now that you know my secrets, I'm going to head off to lunch. The food here, albeit laden with oil, is delicious. Yesterday they trained us in eating with our hands out of a communal bowl, which was magnificent, but there's no telling whether my host family will adhere to that tradition. Dinner tonight with my family may include spoons.

Well, ba beenen yoon inshalaa!

Je vous aime!

Hugs,

Jocelyn