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Published: October 1st 2007
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The Cueca
The traditional Chilean dance I’m beginning to get accustomed to living in this country, but there’s still not a morning I don’t wake up and say, “Oh my God, I’m in Chile.”
On Tuesday, September 18th, Chile celebrated its Independence Day or Día de Patria. Students and adults get Monday through Wednesday off school or work to celebrate with family and friends. The five-day weekend ensures you won’t miss out on the fun Chile has to offer.
The fiestas patrias are the best time of year to learn Chilean traditions. In class we spent an afternoon dancing the Cueca, the traditional Chilean dance. The cueca works like this: a man dressed in a full cowboy uniform, and a woman dressed in a fluffy dress dance in circles to typical cueca music. The idea is the man is supposed to conquer the woman with sidesteps and spin moves. Each person carries a handkerchief used to taunt/seduce the opposite sex. The dance is a lot of fun, even if you have no idea what you’re doing. During the weekend’s festivities, my Chilean mother found it funny to have me dance the cueca with family members. I did it (reluctantly) because even if everyone
at the party was making fun of me, I would have had no idea, and I was fine with that.
On the 18th we had a family barbeque at our house. You put as much meat on the grill as possible, and don’t stop eating until it’s all gone. I ate all kinds of meat: steak, ribs, pork chops, hotdogs, chicken and sausage. I discovered “chicha,” a traditional Dia de Patria Chilean wine made with fermented fruit. My aunts and uncles were all very nice, especially Uncle Juan who had a few too many glasses of chicha by the end of the night. After the party I went to a Chilean fair called a “ramada.” It was exactly like an American fair, with smelly carnies, games you can’t win, and rides that spin you until you’re nauseous.
Last Friday my class took a trip to the campo, a.k.a. the farmland. The idea of the trip was to expose the students to the lives of people living and working on small, private farms. The morning began with a gigantic breakfast on a farm in the center of Chile. The food was delicious, consisting of a dozen different
kinds of sweet bread, hot chocolate that tasted like chi tea, empanadas, jelly, honey, tea, coffee and more. The woman who owned the farm made everything from scratch. I imagine it must have taken hours to cook all that food, and she continued cooking even after everyone was full. Her house was surprisingly modern - considering we were in the middle of nowhere in Chile. She had satellite TV, an elliptical exercise machine, DVD player and full stereo equipment. The woman runs an organic farm that mainly grows a type of garnish used in fancy restaurants. In the past the plant was profitable for her, but recently cheaper imports have reduced her profits. This was the general theme of the excursion to the farmland.
After touring the woman’s farm we traveled to a cactus farm. I was expecting to see open fields with rattlesnakes and tumbleweed, but in reality it was a small greenhouse where they grow individual, small, potted cactus. The owners also whittled pots out of the cactus trunks. Don’t be surprised if you receive a cactus bowl for Christmas.
Our next stop, and one of the most interesting things I’ve seen in Chile,
was a snail farm. The couple that owned the farm raised snails and harvested the snail droppings/spit/foamy excretes. They then made face creams, shampoo, lotion, gel and soap with the snail spit. We encountered the same theme here as on the other farms: the open, neo-liberal Chilean economy was cutting into their sales because foreign products are cheaper. I’m not sure of the size of the market for snail face cream, but apparently it’s made all over the world. Our class really enjoyed the trip; it’s a good illustration of the goal of the program: to teach us about Chile with a hands-on approach. I love this program - I wish college were always like this.
The weather is finally warming up, and the view only gets more incredible. I took what I think are my best pictures last week on a day when it seemed Valparaiso died and went to heaven. Chileans are appalled when the temperature is any lower than 65 degrees. They act like every cold day is an anomaly to their tropical climate, even if it is winter. It’s common for me to walk around my house in a t-shirt, while my parents are
wearing winter coats. I showed them a picture of the snow in Michigan and I still don’t think they’re over the shock. (How about this for a difference of worlds: Santa Claus, or Viejo Pascuero, comes to Chile in the middle of their summer vacation, when Chileans are spending their days on the beaches).
My Spanish is improving, and most importantly, my confidence in my Spanish is improving. I can generally understand about sixty percent of what is said to me. It’s amazing how much you can understand someone without understanding a single word. We don’t realize how much is said to us beyond the words used. Most times I find I don’t concentrate on words as much as I do facial expressions and gestures. I’ve also discovered the reason foreigners say, “yes” so much: when you don’t understand a language, it’s much simpler to say, “yes” and pretend you understand so the conversation keeps moving. It’s incredibly embarrassing, however, when someone calls you out for lying about understanding them. It happens every day. I’ve gotten used to it, just as I’ve gotten used to people staring at me everywhere I go.
(Funny side story: I
still can’t role my r’s. I keep trying but I can only produce an unpleasant gargling noise. The other night around eleven or so, I was in the bathroom practicing, and my dogs heard. They were not pleased. They started hysterically barking, which caused the neighbor dogs to start, which alarmed the street dogs. Before I knew it, every dog on my street was yelping. Now the problem with Valparaiso is that it’s a natural amphitheater. So, when the dogs on my street went off, the dogs on nearby hills did as well. All of the sudden, every dog in Valparaiso was shrieking. My bad).
On a sadder note, September 11th passed not too long ago. Believe it or not, September 11th has a more depressing connotation in Chile than in the U.S. September 11, 1973, was the day of the military coup that overthrew the government of Chile. For the next 17 years, the Chilean people lived in a military dictatorship. Thousands of people were killed, and thousands more were tortured. I once asked my Chilean parents why they didn’t like to go out much. Their response was when they were younger, they weren’t allowed to go
out with friends or they’d be accused of conspiring against the government and get thrown in jail - if they were lucky. It’s hard to talk to any Chilean about the past without it leading to talk of the dictatorship. It’s a very uncomfortable topic for everyone because they’ve only been free since 1990. It’s the dark cloud that hangs over Chile, and the heads of every Chilean. Every person knows someone who was effected; either they were jailed, tortured, or in some cases disappeared.
For Chile, September 11th was the start of a 17-year nightmare. It drastically changed the lives of every person living here. For as happy as the Chileans are, talk of the past can solicit tears with just about everyone. The saddest part about being an American on September 11th was because the Chilean government of 1973 was communist, the U.S. supported the coup and economically supported Pinochet, the would-be military dictator. Today, just the name Pinochet will bring a Chilean to tears. As sad as September 11th is in the U.S., it’s terrible to know we played a role in creating another country’s “September 11th.”
I’ve added more pictures and even
three videos of my house and the neighborhood (look near the top of the blog). My mother wants to see more pictures of me. I don’t think I look any different, but you can be the judge.
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Dan Hoban
non-member comment
cactus bowl
I better get a cactus bowl for Christmas! I lost my last catus bowl...