You know it's a small town when...

1. The town is out of sandals because winter is coming.
2. Trips to the dentist take 4 hours. (My host brother Nacho! recently had his braces removed in Antofagasta. After he explained he was off to Antofagasta I asked, why? He casually responsed, ¨Voy al dentista¨.)
3. You check out both clubs, or discos, and see your students at both.
4.Your mailman hangs out at your house for 10 minutes after delivering the mail. He also requests beverages and snacks, asks for family members if missing, and comments on other people's mail
5. You can photograph it in its entirity from a nearby point.
6. You can familiarize yourself with the town in about an hour.
7. When returning from a weekend trip everyone asked you how it was, even though you told nobody you were leaving.
8. Many cars are from the 1980's
9. The mailman, or Señor Cartero, calls your name while strolling on a nearby street and hand delivers your mail.
10. Simple market runs can take up to an hour because your host-dad has conversations with at least five people
11. Parades travel a distance of about half a kilometer.
12. After telling someone the last names of your host-family he or she knows exactly where you live.
13. No fast food restaraunts.
14. After asking 3 teachers until when is the registro civil open, each responds with a different answer, 1pm, 12pm and 2pm. (Turns out it is open between 12pm - 2pm depending on the day, person working, and possibly weather?)
15. You can hear the school bell ring from your front door.
16. The nearest city is 300km, or 185 miles, away.
17. This is actually one of my favorites, though it is not a problem for me. A former volunteer, now full time teacher, used to have to travel that 300km...to use the ATM because her card did not work in the one in town.

I am sure that I will think of many more in the months to come, but that is it for now.

La Familia

Chilean Host Family (minus the youngest) from Right to Left: Sebastian, Marta, Alejandro, Nacho!
Gringos from Right to Left: Matt, Vanessa, Peter, Heather, Alex

Living with a host family has and will continue to be an interesting experience. Like my real home, there are three boys, a mother and father. Alejandro Nicanor Zuleta Pena is my host-father. Marta Natalia Galvez Gamboa is my host mother. In Chile everyone has two given names and two last names. Given name 1 + Given name 2 + Father’s first last name + Mother’s first last name. For example, my youngest host-brother’s name is Nicanor Enrique Zuleta Galvez. If you refer back to my host-parents names you’ll understand. The middle host-brother’s name is Ignaccio, or Nacho! (I’m pretty sure the exclamation point is part of the name). The oldest is Sebastian. Despite the machismo culture of Chile, women do not drop either of their last names after marriage. They actually do not take the name of their spouse at all. Instead women will add: de + spouse’s father’s last name (first last name).

Did you get that? I have a hard time explaining things…Yet I’m here as a teacher, speaking another language, go figure.

Anyway…My host-dad works in a mine about ten hours North of Taltal called Collahuasi. He is a mechanical engineer and works on the machines throughout the mine. Collahuasi is a mining company that produces copper concentrate, copper cathodes and molybdenum concentrate from three open-pit mineral deposits in the Andean plateau of the far north of Chile. Alejandro leaves at 5am on Wednesday morning and returns the following week on Thursday in the morning. On his time off he fixes things around the house, drinks beer during lunch, takes siestas, prepares asados (barbeques), helps with the construction of the extension to the house, disappears in the late afternoon, explains things to me like I’m a child, drives around honking and waving at people, bothers the gringo, and hosts gringo parties and partakes in the festivities (which includes coming to the disco with us). He is extremely friendly, outgoing, a little intense, and always willing to help. It is actually nice to only see him every other week; I don’t think I could handle him everyday. I think the dinner conversation us gringos had with him pretty much sums up his personality. He polished off enough beer and wine for a wedding, had called me Weon (asshole or idiot, but not in a bad way) at least ten times, explained his passion for beautiful women at least five times, told us the story of his marriage to Marta three months after meeting her, and finished off with something about God and his mother. Remember, he had only known my gringo friends for about three hours. He’s great, but like I said, in doses.

Marta is from the south of Chile. She met Alejandro in the North. I don’t know what she was doing up here, but three months later she was married to the Alejandro. Let’s just say they had a very reason to get married after only three months…Marta is very religious. I am not sure what church she belongs to. She goes to church every Sunday, watches church TV, and listens to church radio. She is the boss of all household things and a master with the iron. She did not receive a high-school level education, so she attends classes five days a week from 7pm to 11pm. By now she probably has the best grade in English because I do, I mean explain, all her homework. I do not understand Marta too well because she speaks in different tones, draws out words, and drops the ending of words. My most interesting conversation with her thus far was over religion. I have a tough time explaining my views in English, just imagine that conversation in Spanish. I’m pretty sure that she thinks all humans are literally descendants of Israel. I have politely declined her invitations to mass numerous times.

Sebastian is the oldest brother and attends University in Antofagasta. He is 18 years old, does not go out much, he enjoys anime and video games. He is home every other weekend. Nacho! is in the middle. He is 16 years old. He and I spend a lot of time at the beach together because he body boards. Body boarding is very popular here because a body board is much less expensive, and more durable, than a surf board. He is a junior in high-school. I have a lot of fun with him explaining the significance of words that one hears in rap and reggae music. Examples include: I’ll woop your head boy, No woman no cry, Youza window shoppa and many other much more vulgar things that I will not write. One of my favorite things to do here is go for a drive with him at night and cruise the empty streets of Taltal listening to music from the eighties. Sometimes I actually feel like I am in 1980, it’s pretty interesting. Nicanor, 11, is hilarious. He skips around the house without a care in the world, playing with his finger-skateboards. Though Marta does order him around like a private in the army. He huffs and puffs and makes funny sounds when she orders him around. My favorite sound is his long sigh he lets out after being force fed and stuffed with food. It’s not a satisfying sigh, rather a more painful one, and I think to myself, I know the feeling kid. The portions at lunch are enough to last me the rest of the day, but leaving food on your plate is rude. They don’t understand the concept of secounds, there’s only firsts here. And you better finish your firsts.

The family has been great. I really have no complaints. After my spanish improves maybe I'll be able to give you more details. It's a bit strange because I have known them for almost two months now, yet only know about a few days worth of information. They treat me like a son and I am extremely greatful.

Here is a picture of the youngest skateboarding:

Mi Vida en la calle 23 de Enero

When I finally got around to finishing this one I realized it was a bit long and boring. It is my attempt to describe my life so far in Chile. So let me sum it up for you if you do not wish to read the entire entry:

Sleep - with 5 blankets, it is 40 degrees at night
Eat - más pan? Pan (bread) is eaten in copious amounts
Plan (for class) - this takes me forever for some reason
Teach - gives me headaches, but can be quite fun at times
Surf - with the gym teacher, a 5 minute drive to a nice left rock reef break
Study – Spanish and how to be more Chilean, and less gringo
Talk – this is extremely difficult in another language, for example, trying to explain why I want to prepare (pour milk) my own cereal or why I won’t attend mass

And if you're feeling ambitious:


Vivo en la calle 23 de Enero. I am still trying to figure out the significance of this date. I actually just asked the entire family, ¨Que significa, Veintitres de enero?¨ Each gave me a shrug of the shoulders and a “No sé por qué”. I live in the North of Taltal, about a half-kilometer (according Sebastian, oldest host brother) from the town center. It is a ten minute walk south over “the hill” to the town center. I have easy access to a few stores around the corner on my side of town, and rarely need to walk to the town center. Well, I rarely need to buy anything anyway so it really does not matter.

Hers is my attempt to paint you a picture of where I come and go from everyday:

I can see the mountains from my house and the ocean horizon from the street.
The home is protected by a ten foot sheet of metal held up by wooden posts. The gate is obnoxiously large, and a pain to swing open and closed. When you pass through the gate there is about ten feet of dirt, just enough space to pull the car in at night. The ground is then concrete for about another ten feet, plenty of space to shuck clams, mussels, filet and hang fish, and hang out and drink a few beers.

The house is longer than it is wide for the first two-thirds. The first twenty-five feet or so consists of the living room, dining room, and kitchen together. The room then narrows off into a hallway of about twenty feet long, with two rooms off to the right. Ignacio, the middle son, sleeps in the first room. I sleep in the second. The bathroom is at the end of hallway and is actually quite large. The house widens at the end of the hallway and evens out. To the left is the “game room” with the computer, washer, and bed to sit on. The master bedroom is back here, along with Nicanor’s room, the youngest son. I currently occupy Sebastian’s room, the oldest son who is studying in Antofagasta city and staying with a relative. The backyard is used to hang clothes. There is an unfinished part of land for the first two-thirds of the home to left and is currently under construction. To my understanding they are adding another bathroom and bedroom.

My room is about 10’x15’, plenty of space. I even have a 12” TV. The house is cleaned everyday by Marta, the mother. My room is cleaned everyday and my bed is made. Something I am very capable of, but after doing it myself day 1, and having it redone later that day, I have since stopped trying. However, I am pretty sure my host mom peruses through my things out of curiosity and boredom (we were warned about this). Marta does not have a job outside the home. She cooks, cleans, drives, does laundry (mine too), and maintains order. She is also a master with the iron. I could not stop laughing the first time I was given a pile of my underwear ironed and folded. I have two windows in my room, but neither face outside. One is boarded up because of an extension that was done to the house. The other is a window to the hallway. When was the last time you saw a bedroom with a window to a hallway? Apparently these are very popular in Chile.

During the week I get up around 7:00 am, for class at 8:00 am. It is still pretty dark and cold at 8 because the sun doesn’t reach the mountain crests until about 9. Breakfast usually consists of cold or hot cereal, an apple, maybe some yoghurt. Breakfasts are never big in Chile. Also, Chile is not a coffee drinking country, so you can scratch that from the menu unless you buy some instant coffee made by Nestlé. Lunch is the largest meal of the home, and of all of Chile. It spans from 1:00 to 3:00 and is equivalent to dinner in the States. Once, or Té, is eaten around 6:00 or 7:00pm at my house and usually consists of leftovers, bread and butter, and some sort of salad, and of course tea. Also, usually something too sweet like powdered donuts and a large glass of coca cola. The Chileans love sugar. Nothing can get done during lunch hours in Taltal. This is not the case in larger cities.

Meals can get awkwardly silent sometimes, but as a friend once said, it’s only awkward if you make it awkward. But nothing is as awkward as an upside turtle…Anyway, Nacho and Nicanor always want to watch TV so that helps. Yes, the family calls Ignaccio, Nacho, I chuckle every time Marta screams “Nacho!!!” from across the home. Also, when Alejandro, the father, is home for the week (he works 7 on and 7 off at a mine) he always finds a way to communicate. He is great and could probably find a way to explain Calculus to me in Spanish. He used to work in a mine in Brazil and he told me he would have to speak very clear and slow in order for the Brazilians to understand him. He does the same for me. He is also extremely outgoing and feels the need to tell me everything at every moment. I do not think he would be able to handle silence, this has worked out for improving my Spanish.

Things are slightly better when the father is around. I am able to communicate better and learn more Spanish. Also, the food is better and there is more seafood. He is the man about town, whenever I am in the car with him he is constantly beeping and waving at people, pulling over to have a conversation, or occasionally popping into a house to say a hello. Picking up bread can take a long time sometimes. He is a native Taltalino, unlike my host-mom Marta who is from the South.

Weekends are spent sleeping, surfing, studying Spanish, and hanging out with my new Chilean friends. Parties last until 5 or 6 in the morning. But this is not because beer is being guzzled. Chileans just love to talk and they don’t ever seem to get tired. The great thing about this is I am able to practice my Spanish. However, as every volunteer can relate to, there comes a point in the day when you are physically and mentally exhausted from translating Spanish in your head all day, and sleep is the only remedy.

Teaching has been quite difficult. English is the students’ most difficult class and it shows. Trying to plan an activity that is interesting, fun, appropriate, and effective is difficult, especially when you don’t speak the students’ language. I´ll try and elaborate on teaching in another post.

So eh, that's all for now. I should be throwing up another post about the family soon.

Here is a photo of Taltal from a distance, yeah, it´s small...

Whiskey & Cholera

Vivo en el desierto mas seco del mundo.

And then there were seven. After leaving Sunday, April 11, I headed North for Region II, Antofagasta with 6 other volunteers teaching in the region. The group includes John, Ryan, Mary, and Hannah – last stop Calama, Matt – last stop, Antofagasta City, and me and Vanessa – last stop, Taltal. Departures from Santiago were arranged according to the respective regions. Each group left at different times between 10pm Sunday night and late the next morning. We Antofagasta volunteers were the first to go thanks to our nine-teen hour bus ride. I said my goodbyes with a bit of unease, and we were sent off by a crowd of waving volunteers who were all patiently waiting to board his or her own bus in the hours to come.

The first bus was actually only a quick transfer from the hostel to a major bus station in Santiago. A Ministry employee rode the first bus with us, gave us our pre-paid tickets, and waited for us to depart on the second bus headed for Antofagasta City.

Buses in Chile are not what most people in the States envision buses in South America to be like. No, there were no chickens on the roof and there were no sleepy Mexicans with oversized hats. And no, we did no spiral through mountains wooshing passed unprotected cliff edges. I believe this is what one experiences in the Wild West of South America, Bolivia. The bus was well prepared for the nine-teen hour journey with a bathroom, TV, 130 degree reclining seats, and three meals. However, this is because we rode Cama, not all buses recline this far, or have as many meals. Cama translates to “bed” in English, but it is the term used to describe first-class on the Chilean buses.

After about 10 hours on the Panamericana, Pan American Highway, the sun had finally crept over the mountains to the East and it was clear we were entering the North of Chile. (The Pan American Highway stretches from Alaska to Patagonia. It is approximately 48,000 kilometers long, linking North, Central, and South America.) We were somewhere in Norte Chico at this point. Norte Chico is a land of transition. Coming from the South you will notice the lush valleys are slowly disappearing, but there are still signs of life and the color green has not yet been erased.

I quickly fell back asleep after a few squinty eyed gazes out into the disappearing signs of life, Benadryl works wonders. I would say it was at about hour 14 when I had finally come to, and all was not some Benadryl ridden dream world of lifeless desert on both sides of the bus, it was reality. We were cruising through the driest desert in the world with still five hours to go. I thought to myself, it looks identical to the landscape two hours ago when I woke up to roll over to my other side; this was the Atacama Desert, el desierto mas seco del mundo.

Some coastal climate stations in the Atacama have never recorded measurable rainfall. Otherwise, the only precipitation comes from the camanchaca, or fog, that condenses at higher elevations in the hills and mountains to the East of the coast. In Taltal the camanchaca can be seen late in the day lingering over the hills immediately to the north of us. The Humboldt Current pushes up from Antarctica and delivers cool ocean temperatures all across the Chilean coast. The cold ocean temperatures mix with the warm air creating this camanchaca. The cool ocean temperatures also help moderate the hot climate of the North.

So by now I am sure you are wondering why this one is called Whiskey & Cholera. We all know first impressions are important, and our first impression of Antofagasta called for a bottle of whiskey. 18 hours into the trip we had finally turned west and headed for Antofagasta City. We drove right into a thick camanchaca and cloud filled sky. There was no sunshine in sight, and the clouds seemed to turn the city a dirty grey. Upon entering the city we descended through the outskirts of the city littered with shacks put together with what looked like the remnants of a construction site. And there seemed to be more stray dogs than people. We were greeted by our regional coordinator Rio, our go-to person for problems within Region II. The Ministry put us up in a waterfront hostel that overlooked the port and its dirty water. None of the gentlemen hit the shower after those 19 long hours, us men decided to hit the bottle instead. John mentioned that if we had yet to find Jesus in our lives, we would probably do so pretty soon…Taltal was still a day away, but it was not looking good.

We had some time to freshen up, relax, and wait for dinner at the hostel. After dinner we would be meeting six other volunteers that had already been in the city for about a month. These volunteers started a year long program in January. We were all hoping they would have some inspirational words on Antofagasta. Instead however, they had stories of a recent cholera outbreak. This turned out to be false, but it certainly did not lift our spirits at the time. It turns out a few cases of something similar to cholera were reported. And then people began conjuring up stories and there was even a pretty good explanation. In Chile, as with most of Central and South America, you cannot dispose of toilet paper in the toilet. The rule is, if there is a bin next to the toilet, use it. Cholera is transmitted through feces. The trash is put out in the streets and then the packs of stray dogs rummage through the trash. Well, you can put the pieces together. One volunteer even added, “And who do you think plays with the dogs?” So at this point I pretty much thought I was going to be teaching children with cholera and living in a cloudy, dirty, desert for eight months. The power of first impressions…

On Tuesday we met our co-teacher who had traveled from his or her respective town (our future host towns). We spent half the day reviewing guidelines, addressing concerns, and getting to know our co- teacher. This also when I found out I would be teaching high-school students, more specifically students at a Liceo Polítecnico. Polítecnico schools cater to students who do not have the money or the desire to attend university. Instead, students learn a special skill and find a job after high school graduation. My co-teacher’s name is Boris. He was decked out in a New York Giants hat when I met him. I am not sure if he wore it on purpose to welcome me, or if it was coincidence, there was a lot lost in translation during that first meeting. Yes, co-teachers are Chilean English teachers, but this does not mean they speak the best English. What I do know is that he has three children, two girls and a boy. The idea of a co-teaching here is for the Chilean teacher to focus on grammar and writing, while I focus on listening and speaking. But I will write more about Polítecnico, co-teaching, and Boris at a later time.

And then there were two. Vanessa (the other Taltal volunteer) and I said our goodbyes and headed for Taltal at around 3pm. The bus ride from Antofagasta to Taltal is about four hours and we arrived around 7pm. I was greeted by my host-father Alejandro and his youngest son Niconorr. My host family includes the father and mother, Alejandro and Marta, and three boys: Sebastian, Ignaccio, and Niconorr. Sebastian is off at University in Antofagasta and I have taken over his room. Alejandro is works in a mine nine hours north of Taltal. He does what is called siete por siete. He has seven days on and seven days off. More to come on my family…

But to try and bring all this together and for the sake of length and your possible concern…Antofagasta is actually always sunny; we arrived on an off day. We also arrived during lunch time when stores close and people eat with their families. And no, I do not have cholera. 19 hours on a bus can skew one’s perception. I actually spent the night in Antofagasta city last week and it was pretty, sunny, and the streets were bustling with people in suits and nice clothing.

And my host town is great. A nearby estadio has turf and the baseball club plays there almost every day. My glove is already in the mail. Thanks mom. My house is a three minute walk from school; I can hear the bell ring from the front door. The ocean breathes a cool breeze up the hills and the sunsets are beautiful. Also, I recently found out the gym teacher at my school surfs and I went out with him last week. The wave is small, about a five minute drive away, and it is sometimes nonexistent, but it is better than nothing. I have also taken up aerobox and attend the class 2-3 times a week to get my sweat on.

So thankfully things have only gotten better since my first impression of Region II. Teaching is certainly not easy, especially when the girls are brainlessly saying ¨Mister I love you¨ and the boys ¨fuk to you¨. Also, the no entiendo and repita has started to bother me, there is a brick wall of language in front of me that I am constantly trying to break through. The Chileans speak fast, very fast.

Up next…some words on my host town, Taltal.

The Unknown

I dedicate this one to my orientation group. I don’t have the bestest writing skills, but read on and I hope you appreciate it! And remember, “ I said Johnnnnnnn Brownnn, Who? John Brown, John Brown, Johnnnnnn Brown!

Before embarking on this experience I knew very little. Here is what I knew… I knew I would be teaching English in Region II, Antofagasta, Chile. I also knew to expect a bit of disorganization because of the recent earthquake. That’s about it.

Here is what I did not know…I did not know how many volunteers were participating in the “8 Month Program” (2 or 200?). I did not now which city or town I would be placed in. I was not even sure which towns were potential locations for my host town. I did not know the level of English I would be teaching, or what grade I would be instructing. I did not know if I would be living in an upper, middle, or lower class home. I had no idea if there would be internet in my home, or in my town for that matter. I did not know much Spanish before I left. And I certainly did not know the first thing about teaching. I thought to myself, “Am I the only idiot doing something like this?” I would soon find out I was far from alone and I was about to meet fifty of the most interesting people I have ever met.

I now realize I actually knew much more than I thought. I knew to trust myself. I knew I wanted to immerse myself in a whole new way of life and truly see how other people live. I also wanted to learn a new language. I knew I’d be leaving the greatest country in the world. But to me, that made it all the more exciting.

It only took 11 days to finally find out all of the questions to my answers. And today, here is what I know. Including me, there are fifty-one “8 month” volunteers. I say “8 month” because English Opens Doors has a 6 month program, a 4 month program, summer programs, and a year long program. The majority of my group is from the United States, representing places such as Boston, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, D.C., Atlanta, Florida, Alabama, Arkansas, California, Washington, Illinoise, Minnesota, Colorado, and of course, New York. We also have two people from Australia, one from South Africa, and one from Slovakia who speaks better English than most of us.

Ages range from 21 to over 50. Some people are career changers, others are continuing on the path of teaching English. A few had taught in places such as Japan and Spain. Some people left careers in business, law, film, and we even had one former professional dancer for Disney. Everyone has been abroad at least once, and most of us had lived abroad for an extended period of time.

All of us are currently in the same situation, but with completely different circumstances. Some of us have been sent to large cities. Some people are living with families in a large home with Wi-Fi, have access to a car, and even have a pet dog (though cars are manual and dogs often stay outside all night and bark at the packs of stray dogs that roam the streets at night). Others have been sent to small towns, with populations as small as 2,000. Internet is usually available through the home’s one computer and Wi-Fi is unheard of. I am in a small town of about 12,000 people. Yesterday I went to look for a pair of sandals and had little luck because it is the end of summer and the town is all out…it is 75 degrees out and I am wearing shorts though.

We have a running joke with a volunteer Mighty Mike, working in small town, that within a month the people will have a statue erected in his honor. This joke started after he realized the only information available on his town was via a blog started by a local member of the community. Mighty Mike was researching his town and found the blog with an update that read something like this: “Important news, new medical equipment has arrived to town. In more exciting news, one English Opens Doors volunteer is coming to town”. I’m not sure if construction of the statue has started.

My point is this…I left feeling very uncertain of almost everything. I thought I may just be the only person crazy enough to jump into something like this, but luckily I was wrong. I know there are fifty other people in the same position as me. I can’t wait for our reunion in November, oh how the beer, wine, and stories will flow… Until then, Buena Suerte!

And my host town is...Taltal!

I have known for some time now that my "Host Region" would be Region II, Antofagasta located in the Great North of Chile. However, I did not officially find out my "Host Town" until today. I will be located in a small fishing port of Taltal!

It is located 299 km South of Antofagasta (the capital city of Region Antofagasta) and 1,114 km North of Santiago. It was founded in 1858 and its boom began in 1876 with the opening of 21 offices of the booming saltpeter (potassium nitrate) industry. Saltpeter is the critical oxidizing component of gun powder and food preservatives. The main activities are fishing and mining.

According to Lonely Planet...Taltal has a population of 12,852. For such a small place, it has palpable pride in its heritage with elegantly manicured plazas and lovely period architecture from its nitrare export heyday (when it's population was 20,000). The town shrank as the oficinas closed (between 1940 and 1960), but is growing again as copper miners set up residence here.

Mi Terremoto Primero! (My First Earthquake)

Well, it was actually an aftershock. It occurred last night around 11:30 pm and it was recorded as a 4.8 and it was located 67 kilometers underneathe Santiago. I was sitting outside in the courtyard of our hostel with 6 other volunteers talking when it happened. It lasted about 5 seconds and it felt as slight as a cellphone vibrating, but through your entire body. The noise of the rattling windows is actually what is most frightening. These are very common and apparently they have been felt pretty often. On March 11th there were three in one day, the same day the new President of Chile Sebastián Piñera was sworn in.

But who actually knows the difference between an earthquake and an aftershock? After some research I found out...And no, it is not as simple as aftershocks are the tremors that occur after and earthquake. So here is what I found out...

"Earthquakes usually come in clusters divided into foreshocks, mainshocks and aftershocks. If an aftershock is stronger than the mainshock, it becomes the mainshock and the mainshock becomes a foreshock. Make sense? Basically they're all earthquakes, but they're related. Aftershocks must occur geographically near the mainshock, though they can occur on another nearby fault, triggered by the stress on the mainshock's fault. According to the seismology/geography glossary, aftershocks must occur "after a larger earthquake (a mainshock), within one rupture-length of the original fault rupture" (or within what is called an "aftershock zone" in some places).

Another big difference between a mainshock and the aftershocks is that we expect aftershocks." This information was found at the following link: http://www.straightdope.com/columns/read/1681/whats-the-difference-between-an-earthquake-and-an-aftershock

On a lighter note, I have found out my town! I will be located in Taltal, Antofagasta. I will post more about this town in a later post! I still do not know about my Host Family.

Saludos Amigos!