For Sonja: the best of NYC

A lot of these places I go because I like one thing- and some I have no idea what the addresses are, so you may have to just google...

Best BBQ

Fete Sau- worth the trek to brooklyn- I think it's on Havermeyer or the cross street is Havermeyer and it's on Metropolitan- take the L train.

Best Italian

I think Pepe Giallo's in Chelsea by the art galleries. I like the pasta with mushrooms, but the fish plates are excellent too. Take the ACE to 23rd st it's on 10th and 25th. Max SoHa's where I believe I've taken you a few blocks from my house is almost identical... but there I prefer the eggplant pasta, and the fish plates never disappoint either. Take the 1 train to 125th it's on Amsterdam and 123rd.

Best Brunch

In brooklyn I'd say Dumont- they have a great back garden- sometimes the food is just good- but the atmosphere is always great. They have an amazing trout omelet, but it's only a special so sometimes it's not available. In manhattan, I love Community- the mushroom quiche melts in your mouth (and I'm not the kind of person who says things like melts in your mouth)- they had a kitchen fire before I left though and were closed all summer- not sure if they are open anymore- this place has great fish at night too- the other place would be on St Marks street in the East Village- it called Cafe something- I just told Schuyler all about it, and he went there- it's sort of middle eastern and they have this great eggs benedict type thing but with cheese- but in general I would say go to the East Village for brunch there are too many good places- you'll find something, and the vibe is really nice too.

Best Chai in the world and not to be missed

I can't believe I didn't frequent this place everyday before I left- Yaffa Cafe also on St Marks cross street is Ave A I think. You could go here everyday for a Chai and never get sick of them- the use a homemade concoction that I have tried to buy off of them. I bring out of towners here a lot because the food is ok, but to me it's really crazy and eclectic and makes people feel like they're not in Kansas anymore- and if you convince them to get the Chai, they don't care if most of the food on the menu has sprouts.

Best Mexican

I have no idea what the name of this place is, but its near the DeLancy F train and you just walk two blocks north its on the corner of I think Rivington.... It's a total grunge place but it's authentic and the chicken quesadilla's are delicious... And cheap.

Best Guacamole

Rosa Mexicana- don't bother eating here, just go for a margarita or beer and order the guacamole meant to be split between two or more- I have often considered going and ordering it for myself- it wouldn't be difficult for me to inhale it all and convince myself it constitutes a meal. There are two locations- maybe three- the one near my house is in Lincoln Square- take the 1 train to Lincoln Sq- go south a couple blocks, it's just across from Lincoln Center- there is also one in Union Square.

Best Meal in the world not to be missed

Sonja since you've been with me I know you're familiar, but it's so good in every way it bears repeating Quality Meats on 57th between 5th and 6th- it might be 58th though... If you want the best meal of your life, eat here, and don't worry about the check, a meal like this is priceless, order starters, order dessert, order wine, order everything. You only live once. As usual, I can only really account for the fish- but it's by far the best preparation I've had- the cod and the salmon are incredible, and they have a Tuna starter with foie gras- it's crazy good. The service here, is incredible as well. Take a cab...

Best Tapas

Well I'd say there are two good tapas places- one I went to on a date in my neighborhood and started going there regularly - I have no idea what it's called, may be something like Tapas - but its just off Amsterdam (but between Broadway in Amsterdam) and on 96 or 95th I think. They have dates wrapped in bacon and good white wine options. The other is right around the corner from NYU's studios on 2nd ave and 10th or thereabouts- it's on the south end of the block with the movie theater and just north of the little park sq. There are two and they are owned by the same people- both are good.

Best place to grab a snack while shopping downtown

Karen's on Astor I think it's called on 8th between Astor Place and Broadway- it's organic so it's pricey but totally worth it- get the chicken curry salad, ice tea and a cookie or two- I always do, and it's a meal that never disappoints...

Best place to grab a meal while shopping downtown

Farfelli's or Fanelli's like that on the corner of Prince and 2 blocks from Broadway. Get the croque monsieur with fries I think the burgers are probably good too. This is a great place to go and get a beer and watch the game on a Sunday while you eat your croque monsieur and talk the to British bartender whose name I forgot- but don't worry he's just another wannabe actor with an accent....

Best Thai Food

I went here twice in two days before I left NYC- Cafe Spice- first, go to The Strand and look at books for 45 minutes, then walk north and west a block each and have dinner, afterwards walk back east a block and catch a movie- I think it's 13th st between Broadway and whatever is one block west of Broadway

A great way to start the day...

Fifteen minutes ago Sylvain made me coffee, I told him to put it on the table because I was getting up. I took a sip, went to go get a bio active yoghurt and came back five minutes later to sit down and start my morning. I took another sip and thought; 'I hate this damn instant coffee, and I can't wait to get a real one in exactly 49 days!" I wasn't angry, but just how much instant coffee can a person take?

My Ms America friend had sent me a link to her American in Chile's blog site I posted it at the left- it's a good site- and in taking a look I was thrilled- yes thrilled to find she had put directions to Cerro La Campana on them (sans vehicle). This is the one day hiking trip I've been talking about doing for 2 months now, but finding directions for anything here is virtually impossible - I usually get this: I think you can take a micro, then a collectivo- then the next person I ask says, Micro then micro! or Metro then micro, but the metro doesnt start until later and you have to be at Cerro by 9 to finish the climb. So this information alone was enough to make my day... But then I heard the buzzer and a package had arrived for me...

I have a confession to make: yesterday at Renaca I got off the bus which happened to be across the street from a McDonald's and having to pee, I went in. But I did more than pee, I patronized. In NYC there is a McDonald's around the corner from my apartment, the last time I ate there was 2 years ago when my friend and neighbor Jenna got milkshakes, Big Macs and fries and brought them over. We had thought this would be like the ultimate indulgence but we finished our meals and immediately realized it was a mistake. Like most liberal Americans with a food conscious I read Fast Food Nation, In Defense of Food (shout out for Michael Pollan) and saw Supersize Me since then I've never really considered fast food, food, just like anything else that when reading the ingredients you read more chemicals and food dyes than things that grow in the ground and are considered "natural" - I've often considered it maybe like a cigarette- like putting something in your mouth and starting it on fire- one time isn't going to kill you- but when you really think about it, gross.

I remember happy meals with chicken nuggets being incredibly satisfying as a kid, I LOVED chicken nuggets from McDonald's, but yesterday I was headed to the beach and got a caramel (manjar) sundae. My first bite brought me back to my best friend from Appleton- Char, we met in kindergarten, she lived a few blocks away and I was a bridesmaid in her wedding last April. Char also loved chicken nuggets but what she really loved was caramel sundaes and so eating that caramel sundae was like being 14 again and listening to her talk about whether they had put enough caramel, too much or just enough- she was like that- she would analyze her food to the extent you wondered if she could actually enjoy the experience. But it felt like she was there with me and we were 14 again...

I may have mentioned service in Valpo is along the lines of non-existent- last Friday Sylvain and I went out for a drink and we watched as the bartender and server sat at the bar chatting for yes 25 minutes before even making our drink... When Ms America and I were at the Jardin Botanical on Saturday I asked her what she found most annoying here after 2 years... Her immediate reaction was: " the service sucks". But what was fascinating to me was the service at McDonald's was like the service in a McDonald's commercial - helpful, immediate and all with a smile. Sylvain loves McDonald's and would often stop by there after boxing to get food- but after a few weeks he came home and said, "Wad the hell! that girl at McDonald's is so rude, I'm not going there anymore". He had been complaining about the service for a while, but I guess this had been the final straw the teenage teller was texting or on her cell and ignored him to the extent that even Sylvain went on strike...

What can I say, fast food restaurants have a place in the American landscape- on road trips, it's a great place to pee, in foreign countries, it's still a great place to pee, and if you feel like you're missing home, you can always get a greasy meal and within minutes realize your mistake and carry on enjoying your holiday... after the gas and bloating subside of course.

Tuesday is beach day

I headed to the beach today- was going to go to Concon, but it was overcast and instead of going at 10 am I waited around hoping the fog would burn off a bit but by 12 it was only a little bit nicer. By 12:15 I grabbed my bag and said the hell with it, I'm going to the beach anyway. I decided to go to Renaca which is 8 km closer, just after Vina. I stayed at the beach for just over an hour, I had to get back by 4pm to let Sylvain in because Gabi took my key with him to the desert. On my way back I walked along the coast to Vina because the beach is really nice there and I thought I'd do some recon and maybe come back on Thursday when it's supposed to be 82 degrees.

Sylvain bought nicorette and is trying to reduce from 10 cigarettes a day to 5. Smoking doesn't bother me that much when you're at a bar and drinking- any other time of the day or location it's annoying and at age 25 he coughs a lot in the morning... but it's an addiction, and there isn't much I'm going to say, if he's successful in reducing or quitting, it isn't going to be because I'm pressuring him. We've been watching sex and the city at night and I'm shocked at how often "Carrie" is smoking, it's actually quite gross.

I've been crocheting this grocery tote bag to bring with me to the market across the street. I finished it last night so I tried it out this morning. While crocheting it, I ripped it out almost finished, no less than 4 times. It's the kind of project you could have finished in a day, but it took me 4 or 5 after all of those restarts. Yesterday I was working in cycles, read a chapter (The Carpenters Pencil), crochet for 10-20 minutes, paint in my sketchbook. The cycles were to let the paint dry so I could flip the page.

Jardin Botanical in Vina

Yesterday my American friend and I went to the Botanical Gardens in Vina- it was refreshing to be in what was more akin to a park then a botanical garden, but me and my parks, I do miss them so. There were foreign exchange students playing soccer and locals having picnics with their kids. We brought wine, apples, bread and what she called goats cheese. To me it tasted like mozzarella and it did not agree with me I'm afraid. My excitement for goats cheese was in equal proportion to my ensuing gastro-suffering.

It's no secret to my friends and family, and now anyone that reads my blog, that I've had my share of "stomach" problems here. I've vacillated from issues with gas to issues with constipation- neither are any fun or sexy. I spent hours researching online, changing my diet, with little improvement. My cousin suggested papaya, I tried the juice because I didn't really know how to eat a papaya, then when that didn't work, I tried the papaya itself... I stopped eating meat, I went back to vegetables I chewed on gas x my mom sent me from home, I cried on skype about how badly I needed to go to the bathroom, I went to bed each night giving Sylvain a run down of whether or not I was going to bed in pain or not.

Finally after several hours at the garden and the most (gastro) pain I've been in in a long I said, screw it, I'm going to the pharmacy. Thankfully late at night in moments of desperation I had looked up the word Laxative in spanish so it was no problem asking for what I needed because gas is just gaz. To cover all the bases I got medicine for both. I wasted no time and before could reach the pharmacy exit all of two steps behind me, I had swallowed the pill dry... and it worked in snap.

Feeling better this morning I went for a jog towards the beach that my friend Ms. America had told me about- I hadn't gone in this direction because everyone had a story about some friend of a friend whose gotten mugged, but usually these stories took place late at night and to guys. It was noon and beautiful and how bad could it be it was on the way to a beach.

I know now why I never found the beach before- it took a little ways to get there and if you didn't know you'd be rewarded with a beach you would have thought, why bother carrying on in this direction its nothing but highway and port authority after port authority... But then, there was sand, about as much as one might need to fill a sandbox for adults. But it was glorious nonetheless and I sat down in the rocky perimeter for a few minutes before heading back to soak up sun and enjoy the beauty of the harbor.

Sylvain told me today, 52 days left... it's time to get moving- next on my list Isla Negra an Zappallar one of which I hope to visit this week or next weekend...

Flushing...

Yesterday I tried to go to spinning twice- the first time I was an hour early, so I went home, when I went back, I got there too late and there were no bikes left. So when I came back home, I made Sylvain do a pilates video with me I had gotten in Boston- I had done this video with Schuyler's sister in law and I had remembered it being somewhat challenging. I remembered wrong, it was the pilates equivalent of yoga in Chile. But it was fun to do together, Sylvain is as sporty a person I know, but was not stretchy or flexible at all.

When I moved in with Laura in brooklyn I noticed that the toilet often went unflushed- as in: "if it's brown flush it down, if it's yellow, let it mellow". As green as I aspire to be, this was too much, sad, but true, I couldn't handle pee in the toilet. Once I arrived in Chile, I change my mind some. People that don't move out of the way and walk properly annoy me most, but the flushing situation is a close second here in Chile. The flushing situation is somewhat distinctive to our apartment, but here it is- we don't have much water pressure in house, of course for each flush we have to turn it on and off, but the reality is, if it's brown, its hard to flush down... I haven't lived here long enough to know one way or another- but the bottom of the toilet is completely dirty brown- I once asked why it wasn't clean since we have a cleaning woman and Sylvain suggested the water was heavy with iron- but I knew this wasn't the reality because our cottage had iron water and our toilet turned rusty but then we cleaned it back to white again. I'm pretty sure the bottom of the toilet stays brown to mask the lingering deposits that haven't been able to push themselves through the pipes... but I'm not entirely sure which came first, the chicken, or the egg... Since the toilet bottom is brown anyway, we don't throw paper in, and flushing means bothering to turn on and off a pump, I have resorted to considering flushing yellow a needless endeavor. That's just two more germy handles I didn't have to touch.

One of the weird goals I had in coming on this trip was to live less materialistically I guess- I mean thats not exactly it, but I wanted to bring just enough clothes, and to not need to bring more than a handful of clothes back because they had mostly been worn out or donated. For the most part I can see this is going to be a successful exercise because already I only have one pair of jeans left (the first to expire were white and died a sad death of wine stain last week)- this morning I took my second pair of pants out of the dryer to discover a larger whole in the bum. I've also worn out a cashmere sweater that I bought for Char's wedding in April, and then pretty much didn't take off. Most of the other clothes I brought with me can be considered lightly soiled- the kinds of things I wore to work a lot as an art teacher- a skirt with a small paint stain, a shirt with a small paint stain, well, they're all paint stains so I need not elaborate. After packing my apartment up I realized with disgust, just how many clothes I had, and I had decided not to buy anymore (really) until I had worn through (not just brought back to my parents for storage) at least half- or one garbage bag. The same can be said for shoes, it's pretty clear 3 or 4 won't hit American soil again. The sad part of all this is- to me, it feels so good to wear out my clothing, but even my worn and stained clothes would likely be mended or bleached to death to be worn until almost threadbare.

I know most people that read my blog haven't been to Chile, but I'm wondering if there is anywhere I have to see before I leave. Sylvain is being super annoying pinning down an actual Mendoza itinerary and I was hoping to go to Buenos Aires or Salta on my own after spending a couple days in Mendoza with him. But in the meantime I'm thinking I should try and find some interesting day trips or overnighters in Chile... Any suggestions???

Waking up...

Ah the first night after a guest leaves- you enjoy the guest, it was great to have them, but it's exhausting, you miss your privacy, routine, but at the end the promise of a good nights sleep.

So when we woke up around 3am to our roommates amigo revving his motorcycle engine for 20 minutes, no one was happy. I was somehow able to stay in a light dream state where the revving was part of my dream, but Sylvain was up, and angry... and this morning when he was tired and had to go to an early class, he wanted revenge.

I love the day after a guest leaves because you have so much stuff to do. Today I wanted to download the 4th level of Rosetta Stone, clean up, I just finished a scarf but have enough yarn to make another one (I hope- cause I liked this one so much I might keep it), I had banana's browning for days to make banana bread, I just started a really good book, I had a list of emails to send out for work stuff and I could go on...

Elspeth has been a big help planning and advising on trips- the current itinerary- Mendoza, Zapallara, Pucon, Cerro la Campana (somehow without a car) and Isla Negra!

Julie, Julia, and Cora

My mom and I went to see Julie and Julia right before I left for Chile- as an avid movie-goer I had seen previews of it during other movies and I had thought it looked awful- crowd pleasing and "feel good" exactly like the kind of movie you'd go see with your mom, and so we did. It didn't disappoint on that measure- Julia Child has always reminded me of my paternal grandmother who has a similar stature to Julia and in the 70's and 80's can be seen in photographs wearing similar outfits- but I think Meryl totally killed the part- no matter how mediocre the rest of the story was, Meryl was brilliant and I just wanted to watch her tell Julia's story and Julie could bugger off. Right before Julia died, she came to my college graduation- where she was being honored as a special alumni among other distinguished lower profile alum, I saw her receive her award and then filed out of the over-crowded room having had enough pomp and circumstance for the day.

I don't exactly feel like Julia Child, but one thing she said in the movie (and it's such a perfect quote it almost has to be the real deal and not hollywood) about how she was good at eating, or that she loved eating. Well, so do I. Whilst in Chile I've been pretty bummed out by the food. Except for the fresh markets there isn't much happening once you've had a completo- and seriously, one was sort of enough- it's disgustingly good in the sense that it's disgusting: mayonnaise, guacamole, ketchup, it's all condiment and mystery meat in a bun . It's kind of like the hot dog I eat once or twice a year at a baseball game- it has it's moment but you wouldn't want to make a habit of it.

But the thing is everything I can't get here, makes me want it even more. So I decided to make it myself. In the states I never really wanted to go there- making my own chicken tikka masala, and General Tso's Chicken, I guess the treasured experience of sitting down in an Indian Restaurant decorated the same as every other Indian restaurant I've ever been to- garishly- was in a way comforting and part of the savory experience, the same goes with the general tso's that regularly delivered itself to my apt door in cardboard boxes and plastic containers. I've made plenty of sushi and I'm an expert at Thai, but frankly the aura of 4 dollar chinese meals was too much - and I didn't want the spell broken.

So I've learned to make rice- something I've refused to do for 10 years because frankly I never really liked rice that much, but watching Sylvain make rice the same as you would pasta- and then draining it, was too much. I've mastered chinese food, I just made a delicious version of my favorite indian dish, I've cooked several "turning chickens" as Sylvain likes to call rotisserie and which I just bake in the oven with lemon and rosemary, and don't even get me started on the ingenious pastas. It was good foresight to pack my spice cabinet...

Still, as 3 months in Paris draws near (ok, not that near, February), my mind wanders to night after night not slaving behind a hot stove, but simple meals of warm crusty baguette and bleu cheese- because at least for now- that's one thing I can't do here.

Lawnmowers

I didn't always have such a hot relationship with my dad during my teenage years- part of that was the stuff all fathers and daughters go through, the other part was his snoring. It's hard to really like someone when they make it impossible for you to sleep- I'd have felt the same if he had with-held food. What makes it worse, is snorers seem to be enjoying their sleepytime to such an extent resentment inevitably moves in- because at least with my dad- you might poke him, throw a sock, yell daaaaad or roll him over to try and rectify the situation, but literally- and this is what always gets me literally it takes seconds for snorers to roll over, fall back to sleep and start their engines again. Hour after hour of sleeplessness your resentment builds- how is it they can sleep so soundly and comfortably while you lie there in hell and consider the situation- because you think- if I were just awake with things on my mind and thus unable to sleep- that would be bad but it would be quiet- but this - with the thunderous reverberations of this snoring engine and someone to blame for it- well this is cruel. And I've tried everything- which makes me even more resentful because I have to fix the situation- but has he tried losing weight, has he tried breath right nose strips, has he considered letting me fall asleep first? I've tried everything, ear plugs, pillow over my ear, but no, I can hear everything, loud and clear...

So when Sylvain's friend Gabi came to visit and started his own lawnmower at the foot of our bed, at least I had Sylvain to commiserate with. I don't know if snoring is only linked to being overweight, but lets call a spade a spade- I grew up with XL family members and they could all compete in the snoring olympics. Sylvain is a boxer and finds himself in the Super Lightweight category so the only noise he makes at nighttime is itching his foot fungus commonly known as: athlete's foot. We found one another starring back at each other, uncertain how to face our sleeplessness- since Gabi is Sylvain's friend, I wasn't familiar enough with him to throw anything or start shouting at him. I considered asking Sylvain to suggest Gabi roll over (I know this doesn't work, but it always seems like the first best option) but before I had a chance he was balling up a sock and aiming to peg Gabi. It was comic relief but did little to alter the situation. I made my suggestion, Gabi apologized, rolled over, and went back to snoring. The next day, I needed a nap.

Santiago a maiden voyage...

Friday around 4 or 5 we left for Santiago- we have yet to spend any time there, and Sylvain's good friend from Quebec City (who is half French/half Chilean) was visiting so we decided to go Friday night, spend the night and return Saturday night. We met Gabi at his friend's house where he was staying and within 5 minutes one of the 3 pairs of pants I brought with me to Chile- these happened to be white- were ruined after a vigorous clinking of wine glasses over excited mine. This was particularly inopportune because we were just headed to a party and I had only brought these pants to wear for the whole time we were in Santiago. Nothing like heading to a party with a massive red wine stain all over white pants- much less walking around the city for the next 24 hours with a big red stain... But, at the end of the day what can you do and no sense in spending too much time worrying about something that can't be remedied. 

The party was a birthday party for a Pakistani guy from London- he was lovely and although most of the guests were French and I got a lot of practice in- it was equally nice to reminisce about days of yore living in London. The party's host was one of those people that put together a lovely spread- spends tons of money and time making fancy punch, 2 birthday cakes and other party snacks and almost no one really bothers with eating any of it. She reminded me of me, and that was depressing. Anyway I'm the type of girl who when someone says, "oh, we're going to a party," my heart sinks- these days I almost never enjoy them unless it involves dinner, wine, sitting down, and good conversation not drowned out by loud awful music. For the first half of the evening except for the lack of a table- this was pretty close to my ideal party- but after dancing to crowd pleasing old school music for a while someone started playing crap reggaeton and I looked at Sylvain like- all right, I'm done. We got a taxi with Gabi and head home to bed (the apt had an extra room we rented for 14 dollars).

Today we woke up late took a shower without the necessary accouterments like soap and conditioner- or even an adequate towel for that matter (I had a camping wash cloth I bring to spinning class in my bag). We were pretty hungry and headed straight to a cafe where I had a really good shrimp quiche and raspberry juice which is delicious and maybe even better than kiwi juice. We wanted to walk around a bit and get our bearings but eventually we ended up at the Beaux-Artes Museum and it was a beautiful building with a glass ceiling and had one decent exhibit, the rest being either odd rooms with maps or mediocre but not completely disappointing photography or sculpture. After walking around some more we decided to visit Pedro Neruda's house and paid for an overpriced but decent tour - we live nearby his house in Valparaiso and I expect a second tour would find one gleaning similar personal info about the man in different surroundings- still, tempting. The house had a Frank Lloyd Wright feel to it in the sense that Neruda was a complete artist- he loved the sea and built his house to feel like a ship- plus his friend's were all artists (thus free art) and he had his own sense of style that permeated the house in all the practical items. 

Before returning to Valparaiso we went out for sushi and it was delicious. The trip was a good one and we both wondered whether it would have been better to live in Santiago- but the truth is- it was just nice to be back in a city- we are city people, but for 3 months, Valparaiso has got much more character and charm (if it weren't for the tourists coming all the time now)- and it's opened our eyes up to the fact that regarding the future, we belong to the city...

Americans projecting

I remember when I lived in London I was dating another French guy- William, within a few month he had had to go back to France but we stayed friends and a few months later I went to visit him a month after the war in Iraq had started. He had arranged for us to go out with a friend of his, Nicolas, who spoke English well after living in Liverpool for a while. The topic of course fell on the American fury over France not joining in the conquest to ruin the middle east and initiate the downfall of America as the last Superpower! I was sheepish, mortified really, over petty American sentiment towards the French (get over WWII that was a long, long, time ago friends) and childish renaming of french fries to freedom fries, but Nicolas reassured me saying, French people can distinguish between a government and it's constituents- we hold no grudges, we just don't think this is a worthy war effort. I immediately decided I loved France- it seemed to have a culture of reason I had yet to find in my own country. 

Last night Sylvain and I went to his friends' Hadrian and Saw and within minutes our conversation turned to healthcare- P.S. friends- France's healthcare is rated #1 in the world... We were discussing the tea baggers and their penchant for using words they didn't know the meaning of, like Socialism. American's, I am certain of this, cannot correctly delineate the difference between communism and socialism. Our friends were shocked at the idea that so many in America could be so misguided in regards to the benefits and morality of healthcare for everyone, and that so many were raging on about Socialism (France is also several points ahead of the States in overall quality of life). Saw is muslim and found it equally difficult to stomach the aggressive front against muslim Americans and using it to slander Obama- how does a country like America go around acting like identity as a muslim is a bad thing. Moreover how in one breath do you slay Obama for going to a Christian church with Rev Wright and in the next breath forward emails about Obama's secret identity as a muslim prepared to take down America. Thanks friends, but he arrives a little too late- Bush took us down years ago...

Driving Lessons

I need to go home and learn how to drive shift. I think my ignorance in this vein is a symptom of growing up privileged. The toyota dealership my grandfather owned made it easier to be me in a lot of ways- I drove a nice Jeep Grand Cherokee when I turned 16 until I almost totaled it in an accident where I was driving faster than I should have on icy Wisconsin streets, I went to a fancy private college on the east coast, I've traveled and lived all over the place and not having to learn how to drive a stick shift is just one symptom of my charmed life.

But now it's time I learn, the more I travel abroad the more I face the fact that America is the only place that automatic cars are the norm and not the exception. Sylvain doesn't have his drivers license so it's important for me to learn how to let out the clutch and shift. 

This has not been an easy week- nothing to do with Chile, just trials and tests one faces in life. Whenever things seem too perfect, something comes along to remind you life on earth is no paradise.

My parents have this joke that I like to make things hard for myself- I never take the well-worn path of easy- I left home- comfort, security and a safety net, I wanted to be different, do it on my own, go hard or don't go at all... But this week it hasn't been just about me and my pile of problems, even watching other people face their problems has been sobering and I wonder, as I watch friends and family in their own suffering- do we all suffer about the same amount- does anyone out there have it all good all the time? Because if that's true, then I don't think I can be blamed for always making it hard on myself- I think I just took a more scenic route...

Radio Silence

Sadly still no internet- today is the Chilean version of Columbus day- also called Columbus day- we should have gone somewhere this weekend, but we didn't and instead we stayed in Valpo. However next weekend we will hit Santiago for a day or two and the second week of November we are planning a trip to Mendoza. I am trying to put together a trip to Cerro La Campana but I have no idea how to get there from here. 

A friend of mine from New York came to Argentina the same day I arrived in Chile and we have been trying to plan a reunion but each time it seems we make plans, she cancels for another trip somewhere else... The first time I didn't care, now I'm annoyed- but not really surprised... 

N1H1 and Vegetarianism

The internet bills has still not been paid for, and I really want to read the NYT. Sometimes we can get connection from the neighbor, but apparently not today…

 On Friday we went to a friends’ house Sylvain had met before I arrived- they were a couple comprised of and American girl from California and a Chilean guy. Turns out their couple-hood was a coupledum of convenience with a side of disaster. She was my first American I’ve met in Valpo- she’s been here a while (about 2 years) and is ready to go home, but plans on staying till April so she can do some traveling… She works here translating at the Navy and make beans for money, she’s as poor as we are. Not finding work here has been a blow- but the truth is, working here, I would make so little money, it’s hardly worth it.

 American girl also caught N1H1 last June and lived to tell about it- she said she was knocked out, and it made her weak and tired. If that doesn’t sound like the flu, I don’t know what does. At the moment, I’m glad I’m not in the northern hemisphere on the subway or in the classroom exchanging germs.

 Sylvain and I love Chinese take-out and so we have been keeping our eyes peeled for Chinese restaurants here- we found about 4, but they all seem the same- chop suey is what constitutes Chinese food in Valpo. We went on Thursday for lunch and it was probably the worst Chinese food I’ve ever had- mostly because it barely resembled anything Chinese (and I’m not saying ny take-out is authentic Chinese). Still I could have made a far more recognizable version at home or significantly less money… Eating out here is hardly worth it, it’s really expensive and except for the social value and “getting out” I don’t think the food holds up. So I found some recipes online and made General Tso’s and Sweet and Sour, I still can’t wait to get back to NYC and order from our delivery place 20 bucks and you eat for three days – even with Sylvain’s appetite for 3.

Ham and Cream Cheese

When Sylvain was booking his ticket to Chile he thought he would have to get a visa or show that he was leaving within the alloted 3 month tourist visa. I remember arguing that this was not likely since he was a student. Somehow though eventually this logic won over and he bought a ticket fro July 16th to October 15th. Huge mistake. He ended up having to spend $345 to change it to December when his finals are over. My mom and our travel agent Lori were generous to help manage the ticket change since it can't be done over the internet, and a transaction would have cost another $50 bucks with all the being put on hold, transferred to other agent, asking for credit card details and your name spelt backwards and forwards. 

My mom has it rough with a daughter like me... I don't know how she does it. 

So I went to spinning, did a couple hours of work sending thank you letters to Donor's Choose the foundation that helped me fund thousands of dollars of artwork and now I'm just having a ham and cream cheese sandwich with some mustard. I don't recommend it unless like me you have no other cheese option, but I'm an artist so...

Garbage Bags and Grunge

This morning we woke up to find Sarah hadn’t paid the internet bill and our internet was shut off. This apartment is such a strange experience- but we’ve taken it in stride. We had this big “we have to keep the apartment cleaner” talk initiated by Sarah two weeks ago, lets set up a schedule for the garbage etc. I think Sylvain and I can take responsibility for the dishes- we cook everyday and don’t always wash up right away. Plus, he has this habit of taking like 6 spoons out instead of using the one in front of him- and during the day we both consume 3 or 4 cups of tea/coffee I usually use the same cup (one I brought from home) but no matter how hard I try to train him to use the same one all day long, he hasn’t adjusted; on the other hand I decided since I cook, it’s up to Sylvain to clean- but that was setting unrealistic expectations. So since I’m home more often I started to take the cleaning a little more seriously- no one in the apartment is very good at cleaning up. Sarah doesn’t do any - which is why she hired someone- but she doesn’t cook and just orders pizza for the most part. Valentin is pretty crap- he cleans his dishes when he gets to it but doesn’t make much of a mess because he’s a dude and doesn’t really cook- so frying a steak or making pasta is about as creative as he gets- but he completely avoids taking out the trash.

 

So we had decided to make a schedule- during this meeting two weeks ago I didn’t understand more than 15% of what was being said but I knew after living at the Whitehorse in London, we would live in a shit hole if we didn’t get more organized and hold each other accountable…Valentin ran to his room and got a paper for the schedule but none was ever made…until this morning when I noticed for the last two weeks I’d been taking out the garbage. So I made the schedule and I anticipate we will be better at holding each other accountable…

Two things I love about living here- the farmer’s market across the street- the vegetables and fruit tend not to be the freshest- what can I say, I don’t care about blemishes, but I’m still American and we’ somehow manage to have our fruit and veg looking just picked when it’s market time- if you aren’t choosy certain veg can be a bit wilted. Still the convenience is unmistakable and I’ve become a regular so they know me, and it’s established me in the neighborhood. The other thing is this ridiculous radio station that plays all 80’s mas musica menos palabras! But it’s not all Madonna and Michael Jackson- it’s obscure 80’s music that you forgot you loved and if I’m ever waxing lyrical about my childhood in this blog- it’s probably because the radio was on and I heard a song that had been a favorite when I was 7. 

Brownies and back to work

I got back to work today writing my curriculum guide. There is one social justice curriculum planner that a teacher of mine at NYU wrote, but I haven't found a lot of it accessible- both to my students and their lives and to me and my background. I found that as a teacher I was interested in promoting design to my students because I found that there was a practical application for them- it's always been important for me to teach them skills that they can get paying jobs for- if they really want to be an artist the work they do in my class will support design based careers in addition to critical thinking and skills needed for the fine arts. Additionally it's always been important for me as an urban educator to raise critical awareness and teach my students what's happening in todays contemporary and multi-cultural art scene. The intersection of this has been vast- from Gees Bend's quilts to sneaker design to violence in video games and tv leading to toy design and critical thinking about media arts- I would have extended this to a project in media arts, but so far I have yet to work at an urban schools with laptops and the software - although you can make decent animations on powerpoint even if it is seriously time consuming... 

I love writing curriculum, and I'd love to publish my work as a book- but it doesn't seem like there is a market for this kind of material. Still I think after I'm finished I might put it together as a guidebook DYI style and try to sell a few through NYCORE or something- I'm not interested in the money as much as I am sharing my teaching perspective and my passion to make the arts in schools mean something...

But my laptop has become a time-share with Sylvain's dying and whatnot, I can only work while he's at school- well thats not entirely true, because he's not always on it- but frankly I like to be able to work without distractions and really focus. There's so much research that goes into writing lesson plans- sourcing materials, media and whatnot- I want my students getting a sort of dossier of material- articles, video clips, artist statements- field trips or museum visits if possible... Man, it's going to be really hard not teaching in New York- the gold ticket of art at the source. 

Anyway, in real life, I made brownies but burnt them- there are no temperature settings on the oven- you just light the fire and you can adjust the flame, but who the hell knows what 350 degrees F looks like. The outer edge was inedible but the middle was ok, and the frosting masked the dryness. So I will try again next week. 

The weather is now in the mid 70's and while it's hard to complain about summers arrival- I've noticed one problem: the streets being filled with stray dogs as they are means the streets are a doggie toilet- normally this isn't that annoying if you're watching where you're going - but the smell, is pungent. It was so nice, I wanted to sit outdoors and read but soon a dog walked by and peed in the middle of the road and I was forced to retreat inside. It's a shame they don't spade and neuter, I love dogs, but many of them here have serious problems- my dad always said it was a crime to have a dog for a pet in the city, but I disagree, this is a crime- the dogs look like out of work bums, laying in the plazas all day long with nothing to do, dirty, their hair is worn thin in places from itching due to fleas or skin irritations, many have lost legs, and there is absolutely no green space here- parks, trees etc. 

Apparently it was the offensive line...

I gave it a shot and came up empty handed. We tried the irish pub first, but they didn't even have a tv, they suggested we try the German place across the road- they had the tv's and a lot of customers for a Monday night- even a couple of obnoxious American boys, but they didn't have the game- we went back to the Irish pub and had a pint that when I had finished it, seemed bigger than the pints I remember drinking, I felt a little inebriated, and so we decided to go home and make chocolate pudding- well I would make the pudding and Sylvain would have his fourth meal of the day at 10pm. 

Instead of watching the game, I hoped I could find a radio station that was streaming it- but no luck and I was left with refreshing the page for game updates... The loss was not unexpected, but as a Packer fan, hope springs eternal...

The chocolate pudding never set, and so essentially we have something like chocolate milk. 

Last night we made the mistake of watching Borat- I'd seen and found Ali G amusing, but I felt sad after watching Borat- a lot of which I heard instead of viewed. Sylvain and I found ourselves better things to do because frankly Borat was um, vulgar. Ali G was really good, but even technically, Borat was hugely disappointing. Sasha never struck me as someone who would ride on the coattails of his former success but it seems that he has here. 

Mountain Day

This morning I woke up and checked my email to discover back in Northampton MA, Smithies were sleeping in or packing up due to Mountain Day- one fall day when Smith cancels classes and Smithies get to chill with a hike up Mt Holyoke or more often a wasted day wandering around main st. I never went hiking or had a picnic and I definitely regret not doing so- I was never much of a joiner at Smith- but I have since become a hiker and I secretly wanted to do it then too. I guess hiking got too much of a dirty hippy rep at Smith and I wasn't part of that enclave, there isn't much dirty hippy about me. 

A few minutes later I heard a knock on the door to discover the electricity people coming to take our reading- then they turned off our electricity because apparently Sarah hasn't paid the bill in 2 months- Sylvain went down to the electricity office and settled the account, but they have yet to return and switch it back on. Frankly, I'm about done with roommates- more often then not, they are a huge disappointment... Katie, Peter, Luke etc if you're reading this, you are the exception to this rule... unfortunately I've had more than 50 roommates in the last ten years...

Last Monday I finished up my classes at the Yoga Center, and I decided without any regret not to return. I instead decided I would get a month pass for the gym about 4 blocks from our apartment. It has very little to recommend it but I have gotten so bored jogging here, I needed an alternative. It's 3 machines are really crap, they seem to use a bike chain which makes a horrible noise each time you "lift" the weight, but whatever- I plan to go to the spinning classes MWF and after today's class an hour of upbeat club thumping music is by far more successful than two hours of light stretching with a break in between for showering- at least I broke a sweat and after the hour had passed it was worth breaking for a shower. 

I will ask Sylvain when he comes home tonight to go to the one Irish Pub here to see if I can convince them to try and find the Packer game on- I'm not even sure they'll have it, but I suppose its worth a try. We had plans to visit an American friend Sylvain met before I got here who also married a Chilean, but I imagine we can put that off a few days to watch the most important 3 hours in Packer history...

Something everyone talks about and no one ever does

My college roommate asked me what I did with all my furniture when I left New York, because she was thinking of packing up her stuff and moving her family to Germany- a garage sale wouldn't be enough.

My initial reaction was, have your garage sale, but don't move to Germany. 

Tonight I was going through old emails and deleting them and I came across something my cousin wrote me- he said his wife was impressed that I was moving to Chile- it's something most people talk about, but no one ever does.

When I decided to move to Chile it was for two reasons- and I think first and foremost you need to have reasons- one because my boyfriend was going and we were at a juncture where we had been together long enough to know we had potential- but not long enough to make a long distance relationship work for the next 9 months, and two I was pretty unhappy in New York- I feel like I'm a New Yorker, but I needed a break- I didn't want to go back to work and I needed some perspective and when an opportunity like this presents itself you go for it.

The problem with doing something like this is people look at it and romanticize it- we both consider this time the happiest we've ever been- but when my friend was talking about moving my initial reaction was- don't it's really hard, and as Sylvain said- it sounds like she's sabotaging her life... That probably sounds dramatic, but English is not his first language... 

So I wanted to write today and maybe as things occur to me I will continue on this topic a sort of list of advice for living abroad. Sylvain helped me because he has done it more than I have- he moved to Madrid, Quebec City, New York, and Valpo and he's gone through a lot of bumps- for both of us, we consider it a part of who we are- we love the adventure- but we've learned that you have to set yourself up for success. Sylvain moved to Quebec City for a girl he had been living with in France and as he says within a couple months everything crashed- but he was able to land on his feet and a couple months later, at my doorstep. There are several variables when moving abroad and I suppose the biggest is language- he landed on his feet largely because he spoke French- but we also know that sometimes you move abroad for the sole purpose of learning a new language, he did in Madrid, and that was a big draw for me coming here. So if you are planning on moving abroad and you aren't fluent in the language, we think you need to have several other safety nets set up for yourself- a visa so you can work, and a network of friends are the two most important, plenty of money is the third. 

We think this experience is pretty amazing and we will have these memories to draw upon for the rest of our lives but it isn't a vacation in Hawaii. While our relationship has definitely benefited from the experience- we have both had trials and frustrations that go beyond culture clash (if you can't adapt to cultural differences especially a slower pace and more bureaucracy don't even bother getting a passport). Sylvain has had serious problems with his student loans and scholarships and after a month they finally came through a couple days ago- our budget is low to begin with, but not knowing when or if the money would arrive was a huge burden- in Chile it takes about 10 days for snail mail correspondence and his bank papers needed to be signed and sent to France, reviewed etc and of course nothing ever works the first time, so it needed to be done twice. We are getting overcharged by our landlord and I suppose we've come to consider it a minor evil that we will put up with for a couple more months- but this can happen a lot as a foreigner- not just with taxi cabs or other tourist traps, but not knowing things like how much bills can run every month (they are twice as much as in New York) and not speaking the language fluently can really screw you here. I had arranged to teach English but when I got here, the language school was pretty lax at getting back to me, "we'll email you with a schedule" I knew I wasn't going to be making a ton of money while I was here- but I was hoping to make enough to pay for my groceries, but the truth is, I underestimated how slow things work here and how poor Chileans are. In Africa it's necessary to learn English because all the jobs are in the tourist industry and all the tourists speak English, but in Chile most of the tourists speak at least basic Spanish and the tourist industry isn't booming so why would anyone need to learn English? I definitely miss working, not so much I want to kill myself, but enough to know I will be going back to work in January and enough to spend my time here appreciating the "time" that I have, and recognize the value in having a job I really love.

While both of us would recommend this living abroad adventure - Sylvain said this: "do it when your young and make it more similar to your house, but abroad- baby steps." I say, don't go because you think it sounds romantic and you're bored with your life or job- have a reason, a purpose(if you don't have a reason, take a one month vacation somewhere), and do all your homework- know exactly what your getting into and what you'll do if it all falls apart. I remember when my college roommate and I studied abroad in London- her boyfriend came with her, she spoke the language, but I remember her hating it so much much she went home a semester early- I'm not sure why she wants to move to Germany but I think that London experience might be worth considering. The rewards are amazing, but it's not for everyone.

Tourist Season

This weekend marks a notable difference in the traffic in our neighborhood- tourist season is here- with the season ushering in pleasant weather so it welcomes the backpackers. For weeks we've been visiting different cafe's when we need a change of scenery- we are regularly the only patrons in several of these places for hours on end, similarly we pass by the same places with some regularity only to wonder how they stay open with no patrons. They are able to stay open because tourist season is upon us- I only wonder how the wait-staff haven't all killed themselves out of boredom and lack of tip money. I enjoyed working in the restaurant industry as long as we were busy- it made your shift pass quickly and you went home with your pockets full, beyond that there is something to be said for going to work and feeling like you spent your time doing something... When I was in high school I answered phones for my grandfather's Toyota dealership- it was idle, dull, it made me want to die- imagine watching paint dry, and understand the boredom of waiting for the phone to ring. 

Today while Sylvain studied, I started wondering why anyone bothers traveling like this. I spent this hour watching tourist couples snap the same "scenic" photo and glance at the same menu outside a hotel restaurant. When Dave and I went to Istanbul a couple years ago- I found I was disappointed with the experience- I had had really high expectations for Istanbul- and spending time with Gokhan and the turkish bath were both amazing- but Istanbul and ticking our boxes felt empty. I decided then, that I wouldn't do anymore traveling that involved picking a city, rocking up and ticking boxes- because without Gokhan being there to make the experience human- it would have been a bust for me. I decided I wouldn't go anywhere anymore unless it meant visiting a good friend- or some sort of hiking i.e. Mt Kili. 

When I was growing up I suppose we didn't have tons of money- but we did have a cottage, so instead of long car trips to Disney World and Mt Rushmore I spent those long car trips driving up north for water skiing, fishing, and endless rainy days either beating the pants off my mom at double solitaire or trying to win quarters off my dad in cribbage. The cottage was my grandparents, and they brought me up with them a few days earlier than everyone else, and when my grandpa died my grandma and I went together- my grandma sped so we always got there first, she could cackle like a witch and she let me do her hair and put make-up on her. Some of the memories aren't great- but they aren't memories of standing in long lines at Disney World and having to pee- they're watching my grandpa suffer on the couch after painful chemo; a memory tied to a lot of pain, but one I'm not sorry I have. A year ago dad sold the cottage and with my blessing- I hadn't been in over ten years; but here's what I know now- I want my kids to have a cottage they spend their summer weekends at not a list of theme parks they've visited. I can't imagine ever being able to afford one, but I hope that we find a place every summer that we can spend a couple weeks at because I want them to find the same joy I had in simple things like bonfires, catching fire flies, trying to catch fish or watching them eat the pretzels you stuck in between your toes and beating my cousin at Old Maid for two days in a row until he figured out the Old Maid card had a red crayon mark on it... If my dad is reading this, I might mention that I don't miss going for long drives looking for brown deer in fields of brown grass, I don't miss that at all.

Ceramics in Vina

The woman at the artist in residence program had a piece in a show at the Vina Cultural Center and so Sylvain and I went to the opening last night- there were over a hundred people at this opening, it was overwhelming, like the MoMA on Free Friday's. So we made a round, and went back upstairs for a glass of wine, went outside for some air and talked about the work- I had missed the piece we had been there to see, but Sylvain had seen it, so we went down for one more round, and found it had earned 3rd prize- it was a calm piece- two vases with a rectangular metal insert in the belly of each vase. We both liked only one piece- a head with no nose and crazy teeth and eyes, and found the rest we could overlook- ceramics is a difficult medium anyway- but I felt like I had been to shows in New York where I felt the work was equally unmoving so I wasn't entirely disappointed. Afterwards we decided to get a drink in Vina and make a night out of it. I wanted to go to Cafe Journal- neither of us had been but we had both heard about it -it was a bit like a beer garden pub without the garden aspect, but it was welcoming, familiar and the perfect end to this evening...

Summer weather has peeked it's head in, and although everyday around 4 the winds make sitting outside in the sun cold and annoying, we have found ourselves abandoning Cafe Vinilo and El Desayuno and instead at The Brighton, enjoying the view of the sea and the sun.

Primero Entrevista

A month or so before I left for Valparaiso I decided to send my CV to a English school called Tromwell. They emailed me back right away asking how long I would be in Chile and what my availability would be because they thought they had something for me. I responded and then, not much from their end. When I got here I resent my CV, got the same email about availability and then... nothing. So last week when I was posting fliers in Vina, I walked right past the Tromwell offices and figured I'd try the face to face approach. I had a short interview in Spanish- which I got through, and then Tuesday got an email about coming in Wed 30 November for an interview. Figured they must mean tomorrow- so I rocked up and as I suspected it was a group interview- and I met 4 nice American girls and one guy who didn't speak to us. 

We got ushered into a classroom and were given English language proficiency tests that we're insanely easy for a native English speaker- we corrected the test in "class" while the woman administering the 80 question test read allowed each question and answer sets and then decided for herself which selection was correct-  what I'm saying was there was no answer key. I'm not sure if you can understand the ridiculousness of this situation 5 young adults sitting in a room with a woman who dressed and acted like a former nun, while she read to herself an 80 question test and then stumbled over recognizing the correct answer while at least the 4 of us American's thought to ourselves, listen were native speakers, let me just tell you the answer and we'll all move on with our lives. This is the kind of interview where 5 minutes into the cattle call you know 1. you're never going to get the job, and 2. you actually don't want the job no matter how poor you might be. While we were correcting the exam we got pulled out by a guy named Erasmus who spent about 5 minutes talking with us in Spanish- he asked me where I was from, where I was living, my work experience (with my CV in front of him) and whether I liked teaching- when I answered enthusiastically that I did like teaching, he seemed suspect and said "really?". 

I miss teaching more than anything else in Chile- so the fact that I am not doing any hoping and praying must say something dear readers... Not to mention the job starts in November and is part time... 

When I got home I told Sylvain I'd eat his dirty socks if I got the job. Here is why I know I am not a candidate- they're interviewing candidates for a position they don't need filled for a month- they told me they'd let me know in two weeks- so that means every other day for the next couple weeks they will herd native English speakers in to test and interview for this one sad part-time position. I know that most of those candidates will be recent American graduates who actually have a degree in Spanish or studied abroad in Spain etc and therefore are quite able to sell their enthusiasm for teaching and whatnot in the interview... But an interview like that is humiliating, you become desperate for a pittance of a  job that is well beneath your education and experience, the money is negligible and in the long run won't make much of a difference, and when you're correcting your own exam knowing full well that you scored perfectly, yet a former nun sadistically goes through the answers with you but isn't even sure if her answers are correct- often asking us, a, yes, I think a, is a right? 

Well I came home anyway, and Sylvain and I had a look at a couple possible apartments to move into- priced about half of what we pay now... So they were about half as nice as where we're living now... We found out Gabi- Sylvain's friend from QC is coming to visit us for 2 weeks Oct 10th and he will stay with us so we have that to consider as well...