Sooooo after our wonderful day spent at the cool hill Cerro San Cristobal finally came the first day of the program. Mel and I checked out of our hostel and sat in the lobby waiting for the cab to arrive to take us to Campus Oriente (one of the campuses of my university) to meet the other Californian Exchange Students and eventually meet our host families…dun dun dun! I really can’t quite understand why I got so nervous because I’ve met host families in the past in
When we arrived we set all our bags down and a girl from the program directed us to a little courtyard to where a bunch of other students were hanging out. We all chit chatted a little, but I think most were jetlagged and nervous about meeting their families.
When the time finally came to come to the front it was one of the weirdest experiences ever. It literally was like getting adopted. We all stood around an archway with Chileans on the other side waiting to hear our names called to go and give a kiss to our new mamas. Strangely enough mine recognized me a bit early and called me over to receive me with a big kiss on the cheek. Sadly I never caught her name and I still don’t know right now after living here for a week because I was too embarrassed to ask after letting so much time go by. I think its something like Hilda, but I can’t be sure. She’s really sweet and reminds me more of a caring Grandma than a hip mom. After grabbing all my bags we walked outside to find her son Matias who is around my age and studies Law at some university close to our apartment. He’s one of few tall Chileans, but unfortunately not my type. (here in Chile there is a weird trend with hair. Most boys wear mullets or have a single dreadlock or rat-tail hanging in the back of there head). Matias has the single long dreadlock and explained that he was really into heavy metal, but later admitted to being a fan of reggaeton. I was really confused… He greeted me in English which was really irritating because the whole point of the darn homestay is to practice Spanish. Politely I told him in Spanish that we shouldn’t be speaking English. Thankfully he has finally shut his trap realizing that my Spanish is better than his English, yet he still insists on throwing in an accented English word which I never can understand because I’m expecting Spanish and the accent is so strong. My host dad is the real character. I’m 90% sure his name is Ricardo and he is just awesome. Here comes the funny story:
So finally after unpacking all of my luggage and eating a delicious lunch with icecream (which was served and made by our maid/housekeeper (nuestra nana) which I really don’t understand why we have her because the apartment is so small and they only have one kid which is my age if not older) I checked in on a few things on the internet and then finally dinner time arrived. We ate the most delicious meal of steak and potatoes ever on the balcony (from which I can see the Virgin Mary from the hill from the post below). During which time my papa practically force fed me steak which must mean I was really full because me likes me some steak! After looking over maps of
Just this past weekend (my first weekend here) us study abroaders went on our first cultural activity/excursion, whatever you’d like to call it, to a town called Curacavi. It was seriously ridiculous how secluded we were. We drove up into the mountains for a good amount of time and I never saw anything really besides a dairy farm and trees/rocks. At Curacavi we were overloaded with information about our universities, registering for classes, and what not. What we were also overloaded with was Pisco Sour which is pretty delicious and deadly and much of the weekend was spent entonada, time to time arriba de la pelota, and on some occasions bien curada, but of course never volada (if you want those translations you’ll have to do some work).
As of late I have been attending language classes. I got put in the advanced class which was a nice stroke to the old ego, but I do feel constant pressure in class. There are about two native speakers (chicanos) in the class and a few other people who have spent massive amounts of time in foreign countries. I hope to learn as much as possible because I need a lot of help to prepare me for real university classes in
well) my teacher Daisy is really great and it seems like these three weeks are going to load me with new knowledge and most importantly Chilean slang! For example: “Pucha la cuestión!” (damn that’s terrible)
For now its just school and hopefully a few carretes (fiestas)!
Que les vaya bien! And may your Pisco never turn sour…unless that’s the way you take it ;) Chausito!
