Killed me.
I went back thinking it'd be nice to go for a holiday knowing that I wasn't having to live there, but no!
Apart from seeing my 3 lovely friends and my very sweet in-laws (very sweet that is apart from an abominable reaction by my MIL to the fact that I was pregnant with another girl (which it now turns out I'm not and our baby is actually, much to her repulsively sexist joy I'm sure, in fact a boy)), and yes, I'm sure due to my mentally challenging (to say the least) 2 and a half years there, I HATED IT!!
I'm not going to spend any time describing it - read back over this blog if you'd like to know more - suffice to say that it is still the most incredibly boring country that I've ever been to.
Imagine if R's company starts struggling to much in this recession and can't afford to keep us here in Shangers and instead send us BACK TO CHILE.
ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Monday, November 17, 2008
Coming Back
I'm actually really looking forward to the time we go back to Chile. I wonder how I'll feel about it after so long away? Of course, absence almost always makes the heart grown fonder, as it has certainly done in my case, although I am almost surer that, since I now have a wonderful life that I adore and am doing something I adore and living somewhere I adore, I will see Chile in a much kinder light. Which is beneficial to everybody, myself not least.
I just know that I'm going to have a good time. I'm looking forward to the beach. To palta. To speaking lots of Spanish rather than smatterings as I do here. To seeing my lovely in-laws and R's new nephew. To seeing my 3 only friends there. And to knowing that my suffering there has ended.
It'll be a kind-of closure.
So I hope.
I just know that I'm going to have a good time. I'm looking forward to the beach. To palta. To speaking lots of Spanish rather than smatterings as I do here. To seeing my lovely in-laws and R's new nephew. To seeing my 3 only friends there. And to knowing that my suffering there has ended.
It'll be a kind-of closure.
So I hope.
Monday, June 02, 2008
Feelings
Now I've got my special wall-breaker, I can read Kyle's Blog again!! HOOORRAAYYYY!! I've missed it!!!
I've just read the post about women wanting to move to chile to be with Chileans and, more than the post, the comments were so interesting.
Especially the one by pyrothesomething or other who said I couldn't speak Spanish.
So DELE nivel avancado and 2 and a half years in Chile and speaking Spanish at home with my husband isn't speaking fluent Spanish then? I think he'll just might find it's the culture and the paralysing boredom of life in Chile rather than the language which was the barrier for me.
Yes, very interesting. I found that one of the more interesting things is Chileans diputing the feelings of gringo/as. It's like me disputing the feelings of foreigners living in my country. How on earth can you do that? That's how they FEEL. That's their experience. Their life. A native could only attempt to judge the experience of a foreigner in their country. I feel that if I were to try and do it about England, I'd maybe hit the mark on a couple of points but, from the experience of teaching foreigners for 5 years in London, many of whom loathed England and London more than I loathed living in Chile, I could never even guess at the problems and feelings they had about the place in which I am completely and utterly accepted and at home however much I could try and disagree.
I must also add here a kind of personal note on Kyle's bit about the chile wives meeting and the husband wanting to return to Chile a few years later aspect. If Rodrigo wanted to go back, which to be honest I feel that he undoubtedly will when (if) my hatred has faded and when his homesickness gets too much, I honestly don't think I could. When we first arrived in Shanghai I heard him on the phone saying something about going back to Linares. I wanted to puke all over the walls and floor of our gorgeous new appartment in this amazingly multicultural oportunity-filled city. He later explained that it was a rumour. And a rumour it had better stay.
However, seriously, I don't know how I'd cope if this ever became a reality (which surely it's bound to). As we bought a lovely appartment in Santiago before we left, Rodrigo did mention 'living in our flat' once at which I thought it best to rain on his parade immediately so his false hopes of distance making my heart grow stronger weren't slowly gathering speed during our time in Expat Heaven in Shangers.
As it stands now, and as I and we are so incredibly, amazingly, wonderfully happy now, I say I would never ever return to that hell. But you can never say never can you. Or can you?
I've just read the post about women wanting to move to chile to be with Chileans and, more than the post, the comments were so interesting.
Especially the one by pyrothesomething or other who said I couldn't speak Spanish.
So DELE nivel avancado and 2 and a half years in Chile and speaking Spanish at home with my husband isn't speaking fluent Spanish then? I think he'll just might find it's the culture and the paralysing boredom of life in Chile rather than the language which was the barrier for me.
Yes, very interesting. I found that one of the more interesting things is Chileans diputing the feelings of gringo/as. It's like me disputing the feelings of foreigners living in my country. How on earth can you do that? That's how they FEEL. That's their experience. Their life. A native could only attempt to judge the experience of a foreigner in their country. I feel that if I were to try and do it about England, I'd maybe hit the mark on a couple of points but, from the experience of teaching foreigners for 5 years in London, many of whom loathed England and London more than I loathed living in Chile, I could never even guess at the problems and feelings they had about the place in which I am completely and utterly accepted and at home however much I could try and disagree.
I must also add here a kind of personal note on Kyle's bit about the chile wives meeting and the husband wanting to return to Chile a few years later aspect. If Rodrigo wanted to go back, which to be honest I feel that he undoubtedly will when (if) my hatred has faded and when his homesickness gets too much, I honestly don't think I could. When we first arrived in Shanghai I heard him on the phone saying something about going back to Linares. I wanted to puke all over the walls and floor of our gorgeous new appartment in this amazingly multicultural oportunity-filled city. He later explained that it was a rumour. And a rumour it had better stay.
However, seriously, I don't know how I'd cope if this ever became a reality (which surely it's bound to). As we bought a lovely appartment in Santiago before we left, Rodrigo did mention 'living in our flat' once at which I thought it best to rain on his parade immediately so his false hopes of distance making my heart grow stronger weren't slowly gathering speed during our time in Expat Heaven in Shangers.
As it stands now, and as I and we are so incredibly, amazingly, wonderfully happy now, I say I would never ever return to that hell. But you can never say never can you. Or can you?
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Dear Readers
Wow, I can't believe there're so many of you still reading even though in theory I've stopped this blog as I've finally achieved my dream of leaving Chile complete with Chilean husband and 1/2 Chilean daughter in tow.
I've just written a new post on my new blog that is very related to the whole of this blog and my experience in Chile. Rather than me duplicating it, you can read it here.
I've just written a new post on my new blog that is very related to the whole of this blog and my experience in Chile. Rather than me duplicating it, you can read it here.
Friday, April 18, 2008
The Age of the Turkey
I've just heard the funniest expression ever. I just have to share it with you.
Rodrigo came off the phone to his sister last night and told me that his nephew is 'entering The Age of the Turkey'. The what of the what? I asked him.
And then he did the funniest thing.
He slouched up and down the room with his head down between his shoulders and his chin on his breast (bet you're imitating it now)repeating "Pa-kay? Pa-kay? Pa-kay" (translated in Spanish as 'Para Que?' and in English as 'What for?'). Do it and you'll see what I mean - the noise is even turkeyish.
Hilarious I tell you.
The Chilean version of Harry Enfield's Kevin the Teenager.
Rodrigo came off the phone to his sister last night and told me that his nephew is 'entering The Age of the Turkey'. The what of the what? I asked him.
And then he did the funniest thing.
He slouched up and down the room with his head down between his shoulders and his chin on his breast (bet you're imitating it now)repeating "Pa-kay? Pa-kay? Pa-kay" (translated in Spanish as 'Para Que?' and in English as 'What for?'). Do it and you'll see what I mean - the noise is even turkeyish.
Hilarious I tell you.
The Chilean version of Harry Enfield's Kevin the Teenager.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Wedding Traditions In Chile
I've had lots of messages wanting information on Chilean culture with regards to marriage and wedding traditions.
Is it the time of year?
What's going on?
Are lots of Chilean people suddenly getting married?
Anyway, whatever the reason, I'll tell you what I know on the subject.
Although I've married a Chilean and I married him in Chile, our wedding was, because of me, not at all traditional. We had a Civil Service only which was our Wedding. I was going to say our 'one and only wedding', but of course it wasn't - we then had a Humanist ceremony in England.
Normally, in Chile, weddings go like this:
The man proposes and (as long as the woman accepts), he gives her an engagement ring which she puts on her ring finger, just like in England and most of Europe (and the world??).
Then they often do something which we (Englishers) don't do. They exchange wedding rings. But they put them on their right 'ring' fingers (don't know what these fingers are called!).
Then, whenever they set the date, they have the Civil Service, which is the legal side of things. This usually involves going to a Registry Office and having the legal whys and wherefores read out in front of a few of your closest family and friends. This is when you move your wedding ring to the left ring finger. If you want that is - lots of Chileans I've met wear their rings on their right 'ring' fingers too and when I've asked they've said that it doesn't matter. This service is then followed by a big dinner/small party for aforementioned close family and friends and a few presents are given.
A while (lets say a month at least) after this legal occassion, there's the WEDDING. Now, I've been to a couple of these and they are, it must be said, spectacularly lavish.
This, my dears, is the religious ceremony. And a ceremony it certainly is.
What happens is, you gather a million or two of your furthest family members and friends and their family members and friends, and your boss and their family and friends together. You squeeze (literally in my experience) them into the hugest and grandest church you can find (read 'afford'). Then there's the Wedding. The vows, the readings, the blessings from the priest and all the other God stuff. Then they have a big old band (yes, on the church 'stage') and an amazing singer and then the bride and groom leave together to lots of clapping and outside have a bit of rice throwing and photography flashes, as is the norm in western cultures.
They are then whisked away, followed by their trillions of guests, to a lavish celebration(and I'm not talking wedding reception here, folks, I'm talking a party fit for a King or Queen). The one I went to that I most remember was in a country club just outside Santiago. There were millions of tables full with millions of elaborate centerpieces with candles in their crystaline candle holders everywhere and flowers all around, twisted and twined through the chairs. Champagne was liberally handed out by tuxed waiters as was caviar and pisco sours and other culinary and tastebuddy delights, before we sat down to a full-on full-service waitered dinner with seventeen and a half million courses. Followed by, oh and this is one of their traditions (as I can't think of any significant ones to be honest), an enormous latino disco where everyone wears masks and has streamers and joke shop child's party things. Excellent fun for all the family. And it was utterly beautiful. Wedding heaven.
As for gifts, I have heard that it's traditional to give Chilean Spurs as a gift, but as an authority on this subject, being married to an out-and-out guaso from the Seventh (guasoist) region of the country, I will tell you that my husband has never ever heard of this tradition. And his family should know - they love all that rodeo bash a small cow up with fat old horses stuff. What is normal is that they give you a Wedding List from Falabella or some other uniquely shite department store and you buy things from it, like normal.
Except this was our big mistake. Not being normal. I didn't want a list - we've got two flats full of everything so we didn't need anything, so we asked for money to go towards our honeymoon as we were (read 'still bloody well are') supremely skint. Now how much do you think we got from the guests at our Chilean wedding? NOTHING. Not a fucking thing. Not even from the parents. Or the brother and sister. And not a present in place of money either. Just nothing. It's not that I'm worried about the presents or even the cash, really it's not, it's just that it's a Bloody Liberty (you'll have to check out Catherine Tate on youtube for reference). I am still disappointed about this, and I don't care if giving money is not the done thing. Don't give me money, but at least get a ruddy card won't you? Actually, I have to retract this. I'm wrong. My lovely friend Jo (whom I met two and half years ago through this blog and who also married a Chilean) was the only one thoughtful enough to present us with presents.
However, I must add as an add-on that being almost present-less marred nothing. My wedding day was absolutely the best day of my life. Equal best to the day Bella was born.
Is it the time of year?
What's going on?
Are lots of Chilean people suddenly getting married?
Anyway, whatever the reason, I'll tell you what I know on the subject.
Although I've married a Chilean and I married him in Chile, our wedding was, because of me, not at all traditional. We had a Civil Service only which was our Wedding. I was going to say our 'one and only wedding', but of course it wasn't - we then had a Humanist ceremony in England.
Normally, in Chile, weddings go like this:
The man proposes and (as long as the woman accepts), he gives her an engagement ring which she puts on her ring finger, just like in England and most of Europe (and the world??).
Then they often do something which we (Englishers) don't do. They exchange wedding rings. But they put them on their right 'ring' fingers (don't know what these fingers are called!).
Then, whenever they set the date, they have the Civil Service, which is the legal side of things. This usually involves going to a Registry Office and having the legal whys and wherefores read out in front of a few of your closest family and friends. This is when you move your wedding ring to the left ring finger. If you want that is - lots of Chileans I've met wear their rings on their right 'ring' fingers too and when I've asked they've said that it doesn't matter. This service is then followed by a big dinner/small party for aforementioned close family and friends and a few presents are given.
A while (lets say a month at least) after this legal occassion, there's the WEDDING. Now, I've been to a couple of these and they are, it must be said, spectacularly lavish.
This, my dears, is the religious ceremony. And a ceremony it certainly is.
What happens is, you gather a million or two of your furthest family members and friends and their family members and friends, and your boss and their family and friends together. You squeeze (literally in my experience) them into the hugest and grandest church you can find (read 'afford'). Then there's the Wedding. The vows, the readings, the blessings from the priest and all the other God stuff. Then they have a big old band (yes, on the church 'stage') and an amazing singer and then the bride and groom leave together to lots of clapping and outside have a bit of rice throwing and photography flashes, as is the norm in western cultures.
They are then whisked away, followed by their trillions of guests, to a lavish celebration(and I'm not talking wedding reception here, folks, I'm talking a party fit for a King or Queen). The one I went to that I most remember was in a country club just outside Santiago. There were millions of tables full with millions of elaborate centerpieces with candles in their crystaline candle holders everywhere and flowers all around, twisted and twined through the chairs. Champagne was liberally handed out by tuxed waiters as was caviar and pisco sours and other culinary and tastebuddy delights, before we sat down to a full-on full-service waitered dinner with seventeen and a half million courses. Followed by, oh and this is one of their traditions (as I can't think of any significant ones to be honest), an enormous latino disco where everyone wears masks and has streamers and joke shop child's party things. Excellent fun for all the family. And it was utterly beautiful. Wedding heaven.
As for gifts, I have heard that it's traditional to give Chilean Spurs as a gift, but as an authority on this subject, being married to an out-and-out guaso from the Seventh (guasoist) region of the country, I will tell you that my husband has never ever heard of this tradition. And his family should know - they love all that rodeo bash a small cow up with fat old horses stuff. What is normal is that they give you a Wedding List from Falabella or some other uniquely shite department store and you buy things from it, like normal.
Except this was our big mistake. Not being normal. I didn't want a list - we've got two flats full of everything so we didn't need anything, so we asked for money to go towards our honeymoon as we were (read 'still bloody well are') supremely skint. Now how much do you think we got from the guests at our Chilean wedding? NOTHING. Not a fucking thing. Not even from the parents. Or the brother and sister. And not a present in place of money either. Just nothing. It's not that I'm worried about the presents or even the cash, really it's not, it's just that it's a Bloody Liberty (you'll have to check out Catherine Tate on youtube for reference). I am still disappointed about this, and I don't care if giving money is not the done thing. Don't give me money, but at least get a ruddy card won't you? Actually, I have to retract this. I'm wrong. My lovely friend Jo (whom I met two and half years ago through this blog and who also married a Chilean) was the only one thoughtful enough to present us with presents.
However, I must add as an add-on that being almost present-less marred nothing. My wedding day was absolutely the best day of my life. Equal best to the day Bella was born.
Monday, April 07, 2008
One More Thing
I suppose that, being married to a Chilean and having a half-Chilean daughter, my Chile Tale is never going to end really. My time in Chile has but the Tale will continue as mine and R's cultures are forever intertwined in the little big-eyed Bella.
I have recently been reminded of a funny Chilean quirk that I've wanted to blog about for, well, it must be years really, but have never got round to.
By way of an intro, I'll start with a parallel from my own country.
When I was young, and before then (probably for centuries before then), and up until about 10 years ago when they started to be publicly humiliated on TV by various comedians, people who wanted to show how educated they were used to pepper their conversations with French expressions. As I grew up in a time when it was embarrassing to do so, I don't have much experience of this, but whenever 'un petit peu' or a 'quelle surprise' (sp probably) said in all seriousness passes my ears I wince hugely. 'Fromage frais', 'cul-de-sac' and even 'faux pas' I can deal with and they're just too integrated into English for us to have any other words for them, but 'a bientot' and 'quelque chose' can just stop it right there.
However, this expressione au haute couture (or whatever) is still a-la-mode and thriving amongst those who think they're upper class in Chile. However, they prefer to use English expressions rather than French as the use of such expressions will surely impress their guests (especially their English ones of course) by showing that they, yes, they themselves don't you know, had enough money to study at the English School or go to the English College or to even go to the bloody country itself.
As well as embarrassment, I actually feel physical pain when a conversation in Spanish/Chilean is needlessly and, more to the point, randomly peppered with 'having said thats' and 'it's about times' and 'if you don't minds' with the pure aim of impressing me.
Je ne sais pas por quoi.
I have recently been reminded of a funny Chilean quirk that I've wanted to blog about for, well, it must be years really, but have never got round to.
By way of an intro, I'll start with a parallel from my own country.
When I was young, and before then (probably for centuries before then), and up until about 10 years ago when they started to be publicly humiliated on TV by various comedians, people who wanted to show how educated they were used to pepper their conversations with French expressions. As I grew up in a time when it was embarrassing to do so, I don't have much experience of this, but whenever 'un petit peu' or a 'quelle surprise' (sp probably) said in all seriousness passes my ears I wince hugely. 'Fromage frais', 'cul-de-sac' and even 'faux pas' I can deal with and they're just too integrated into English for us to have any other words for them, but 'a bientot' and 'quelque chose' can just stop it right there.
However, this expressione au haute couture (or whatever) is still a-la-mode and thriving amongst those who think they're upper class in Chile. However, they prefer to use English expressions rather than French as the use of such expressions will surely impress their guests (especially their English ones of course) by showing that they, yes, they themselves don't you know, had enough money to study at the English School or go to the English College or to even go to the bloody country itself.
As well as embarrassment, I actually feel physical pain when a conversation in Spanish/Chilean is needlessly and, more to the point, randomly peppered with 'having said thats' and 'it's about times' and 'if you don't minds' with the pure aim of impressing me.
Je ne sais pas por quoi.
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