Giving Thanks in a foreign setting

I never really thought about Thanksgiving and it's meaning until yesterday. Yes, I know I've lived through 19 Thanksgivings and perhaps should have given this some more thought before now, but I think that being confronted with a culture that doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving, or understand it, really made me reflect on why I missed having it and why it's important to American culture. My whole life I kind of just joked about how it was all about food and just another excuse for Americans to eat, that or celebrate the conquest of the Native Americans by giving them small pox, either way, nothing serious. But now after spending a month's worth of Sundays with my entire Chilean host family doing nothing but eating, I've come to realize something about the importance of Thanksgiving. In American society where independence is so highly valued the family unit sort of gets pushed aside, people seem to take their family members for granted. I was really lucky growing up having most of my family so close by and having occasional dinners besides just Christmas and Thanksgiving. However, I'm completely addicted to family gatherings now. I spent every week here looking forward to Sunday, never planned anything with anyone else on Sundays because that was family day. Similarly, I never plan anything on Thanksgiving because it's a day to be with family, and close friends. When a Chilean girl asked me today to explain Thanksgiving I told her it was like a big Chilean Sunday, and it was a time for everyone to get together and think about everything they have to be thankful for, religion and beliefs aside. I didn't really understand that until today, when I wasn't even in the same country as my family on Thanksgiving and was celebrating it in a hotel. My friends and I, before we ate, went around and all said something we were grateful for, and it was a really heartwarming experience for me, since this is probably the last time we will, for the most part, all be together as a program. So, on this day, a truly American holiday, I want to share with you all what I'm most grateful for:
I am extremely grateful for my huge family. The brothers and sisters I have that aren't related to me by blood, and of course the one that is. The three sets of parents I've had the privilege to have. The single mom in France who made my short experience there beautiful. The siblings that are under the category of 'friends', but know me just as well as if we shared the same blood. The many aunts and uncles I have trouble explaining to people outside of the Elk herd. The 5 grandparents I've been so lucky to spend summers and ski trips with. My second moms that have raised me and been there for my mom when she needed help I couldn't give, as well as supportive of me as I trek through life. My Michigan family, two moms and a dad a boyfriend and a brother, that have taken me in and loved me like I love their own children.
Thank you to you all. I've never been happier than I have been with you. Happy Thanksgiving from Chile!

Atacama Desert: a world of it's own. pt 2

Sunday, Halloween, was an early and epic day. At 3:30am we woke up wearing every piece of clothing we brought to head out to see the Geysers del Tatio. It's about a two hour drive up to the northern part of the desert right on the border with the Andes mountains. (Upon arrival my camera gave me the middle finger and didn't work for the rest of the trip, I think there is some residue sand in it from my excursion to the dunes here in Valpo that got moved around and now is messing up the lens. Surgery to come.) We watched the sun rise up over a field of steaming geysers and were told to watch our step since the ground is covered in ice. Boiling water next to frozen water...right.. Apparently this geyser field represents 8% of the world's geysers and the USA has about 50%, not too many geysers in the world. Our tour guide thought it was amazing I had seen Old Faithful (thanks mom and dad). After the sun came up we piled back in the van to check out the thermal bath. All of those layers I had put on earlier came off as I stripped down to my bathing suit and jumped into a pool of water that is kept warm with geothermal energy. There were pockets that were much warmer than others and if you put your hand too far down in the sand you would get burnt. Meanwhile my wet hair was freezing since it was 8:30am and cold enough to snow had there been precipitation. After making the mad dash from the pool to my towel to the van we headed down to the tiny town of Machuca, 4 inhabitants, that basically live off of selling anticucho de llama basically llama meat on a stick. I was definitely put off when I first heard about this, but it was one of the more delicious things I've ever had. As we headed back towards San Pedro we made two more pit stops. One to look at the flock of flamingos hanging out in a random, almost frozen, lagoon next to a herd of Vicuna. (My tour guide told me that the reason flamingos sleep on one foot is so that when the water freezes at night they can use the other foot to break themselves out...not sure what the credibility of that is,but I like the story). The second stop was a walking tour of Purifrica, cold water, and was another one of those 'I can't believe this place' moments. There was this running river of fresh water in the middle of the desert that ran through this gorgeous canyon, smoothed down after years of water running over the rocks. End point was a 400 year old cactus that is 10 meters tall. One of the girls from my tour is going to email me the picture of me standing next to it. After making it back to our campsite at 1 pm we had a quick half an hour nap, lunch and headed out to rent bikes to go see Valle de la Luna.
As most of you know I am not really a fan of bike riding, at all. I really like the idea of it, I think it's a great way to see places, but for the most part I'd rather walk. However, I decided that riding bikes to Valle de la Luna would be fun...and while well worth the end result I was pretty convinced I was going to die on the way there. Also, who decided it was a good idea to mass produce uncomfortable bike seats? I mean, if you're going to be sitting on something for a long period of time why have it be an unpleasant experience? I am not Lance Armstrong so aerodynamics are of minimal importance to me. Point is, my rear end was literally bruised and I physically couldn't sit down for the rest of the evening and the next day...you win bike.
All of that aside. Valle de la Luna is just the most incredible place. Apparently it's called the Moon Valley because it looks like the surface of the moon. I was unaware the moon looked so cool! We got to go into a cave, which you needed a flashlight to do since it was pitch black. Really cool. The walls were lined with what we believe it be Quartz, but could be some other clear substance found underground. Scrambling through a dark cave on Halloween only seemed appropriate. Afterwards we rode, well I walked, our bikes a little further into the park and ended up at the panoramic view point for the sunset over the valley. Just incredible. There was this sand dune to the right of the ridge we were on that was perfectly smooth, it looked almost fake, like someone had painted it there. Cue bike ride back in the dark. and Anna ripping her pants on the bike gear.
So it's Halloween and we decided to live it up Atacama style and attend one of the legendary 'clandestinos'. The bars in San Pedro close promptly at 2 and parties are completely illegal in the town (ie our tour guide tried to have one on Friday and got busted at 2pm in the afternoon by the cops, before the party), so people literally go out into the middle of the desert and have the most epic parties. Our camping neighbor, Nico, and our Canadian-Chilean tour-guide friend, Emilio, invited us to come out to the clandestino that night, so we met Nico at a bar in anticipation of going out. When the bar closed we were herded out into the streets and into a white, unmarked van...which would have really sketched me out, but our tour guide was actually driving the van. Seriously small town. So after cramming what felt like 50 people into this 12 person van, we set off into the night and ended up at a shack in the middle of nowhere that had a DJ, lights show and bonfire. I can easily say this was the coolest party I've ever been to, and by far the best Halloween of my life. The stars at night are incredible in the desert so to see those while standing next to a bonfire listening to great music, was more than I could have ever hoped for. At 5:10 we started our walk home, my watch died just as we left the party, marking that moment permanently. Only casualty was my Argentina coin necklace. Somehow seems appropriate it was sacrificed to the desert.
Next morning we all sleep in, obviously, and then get on our bus at 7:30pm for Calama. Thanks to Max and Dan we did not get stranded in San Pedro for the next week. We didn't learn our lesson in Copiapo and once again did not buy return tickets ahead of time on a 'Dia Feriado' when all of Chile is traveling... We get to Calama and to cap off our trip set up a tent in the airport and build a fort so the four of us can get some sleep before our early flight the next morning. This was in fact completely accepted and almost encouraged by the night staff. So lucky Chileans flying out the next morning were greeted by our strange set up and Max and Marina's feet sticking out from under the fort. Seemed the most appropriate way to end this incredible
journey.

More photos to come once I get them from Dan. Highlights will include Valle de la Luna, me in my Batman cape and our fort in Calama Airport

Fotos: "Cara de Pablo Neruda", part of the cordillera that looks like Pablo Neruda's face, can you find it?; Me and Max; Geysers del Tatio; Geysers del Tatio; Geysers del Tatio; Max, Marina and Dan with their clever sock gloves.

This is what's on my mind

Most people use blogs so they can share how they're feeling with the rest of the world. I've personally always been an advocate of sharing your feelings, but not complaining, must be the Miller in me, but the idea of publicly addressing my sentiments never seemed pertinent before. I have however recently been experiencing my first serious pangs of homesickness and apparently blogging seems to be the answer. It seems strange that almost 4 months into my program it's the first time I'm feeling out of place and wishing for something a little more familiar. I think it's less that I want to physically be home, but rather that I wish the people from home were here. This seems weird to me because my parents are coming to visit in about 1 month and my boyfriend will be here in less than that. So why now? After I'm so comfortable getting myself around a new place, navigating a new language with near proficiency and settling into a wonderful host family, am I feeling like I want to see everyone from home?
Now I could go ahead and quote every cliche that everyone who is reading this might be thinking; such as "absence makes the heart grow fonder" "the W curve of study abroad (for all of you K kids)" and while I think there is more truth to those than I would normally credit, I would hate to put my feelings into a quote or a graph. Though, I have been searching for answers or reasons, damn Miller genes, I'm not sure there is one. The heart really does it's own thing. I suspect however that my heart pains have to do with some of the following:
-It's November, and it's 75 degrees outside...this is not normal for me.
-Christmas decorations are going up on palm trees, and Santa Claus called my home phone the other day to say 'Ho, ho, ho' to my host mom. Evergreen trees and snow have always been some of my favorite parts of the holiday season. 'I'm dreaming of a white Christmas' doesn't seem to have the same ring to it when I'm sitting on the beach.
-As my program's end is nearing I start thinking about all of the things waiting back in the States for me. I've never been really good at living in the moment for too long. (not that I'm not enjoying myself right now!!!)
-After 4 months of meeting new and wonderful people, you can't help but be reminded of all the other great people that you've spent years getting to know back home.
-After 4 months of discovering an insurmountable number of new places, you can't help but remember all of the great ones back home (Steak and Shake, the quad, my backyard)
As I think of all of these things I think HOW COULD I NOT BE HOMESICK?! But, then I realize that part of me will always be here in Chile, just like part of me will always be in Argentina and Guatemala and the Adirondacks and Kalamazoo, and so many other places. I've consciously been leaving bits of my heart around the world, knowing that I'll be back for them and that they will always be there for me. Knowing that the people I leave them with will keep them safe, just as I keep them with me everywhere I go. My mom has always said that I was born with big wings, and I've definitely put them to the test, spreading heart shaped bread crumbs around the world. While I seem to always be on the go, I know that getting off the plane in Albany in January will be a welcome relief. Just as I know the next time I get on a plane to who knows where, it will be a welcome adventure.
cure for homesickness? there isn't one. I think that's okay, because that means there is something worth missing somewhere in the world.
p.s I'M FINE. I still love everything about everything here, and am looking forward to living the next few months to the fullest.Me in the Atacama Desert...Sorry I always look awkward. Atacama stories to come soon!

Atacama Desert; a world of it's own. pt 1

October 27th Max, Marina, Dan and I got on a bus to Santiago to start our journey up north to San Pedro de Atacama. After getting a few hours sleep in the airport we got on our 5:55am flight to Calama from where we took a bus to San Pedro. A few days before, and even en route, we were all less excited than would be expected due to the amount of homework we all had and the lack of sleep. However, I can easily say this trip ended up being one of the most amazing and unique experiences of my life, and I wouldn't trade it for anything.
We spent our first day in San Pedro looking for a tour company to do our tours with. To see all that Atacama has to offer you have to take tours, which can be expensive, but definitely worth it. Some people rented cars, but the information that the tour guides are armed with make paying for the tour well worth the money. We ended up picking 'Andes Expeditions', which if any of you make it up there I highly recommend, also ask for Felipe or Micheal. It was a smaller tour company, only 11 people or so on a tour, and had much more of a hippie vibe than the other companies we looked at. My host dad had told me that San Pedro was full of gringos, but on all three tours we were with only Chileans, and one German.
Before I get into the tours I have to reflect on our campsite for a quick minute. Being broke college students spending five days in one of the smallest and most touristy towns we had to get creative with our money. Consequently, we ended up in the 'mas barato' 'cheapest' campsite in all of San Pedro, only 2 luca per night ($4) while most were around 3 or 4 luca. In the end it wasn't too bad, but the first two days had some hiccups. For example, every time there was a breeze the first day and a half a strong smell of feces accosted your nasal passage. Turns out there was an open sewage tank on the other side of the fence full of, well you can imagine. Other highlights involve David, the son of the owner, who believed that chupacabras exist and are the result of a US experiment during WWII used as an attempt to take over the world, starting with Chile...and a dog named 'Que te importa' 'What does it matter' that sometimes sleeps in the shower. It was a little embarrassing to tell locals where we were staying because this place is famous for being 'lo mas barrato' Our tour guide laughed when we told him, they call it 'Cayamping' from 'cayampa' which more or less means 'really shitty'.
Friday was our first tour to Lagunas Altiplanicas for which we woke up at 6:30am, I saw so many sunrises on this trip. Our first stop was Laguna Chaxas, the national Flamingo reserve. Here there are three kinds of flamingos; James, Andean and Chilean. The aptly named Chilean flamingo is the only one that travels outside of Atacama and the Andes to Bolivia and Peru...go Chile. It was such a strange experience to see flamingos flying around the middle of the salt flats while I was bundled up, wearing a hat and mittens. I am so used to seeing them only in the bright blue, and warm, Carribean. This was only the beginning of strange juxtapositions. As we drove further south and went higher into the mountains, my companions and I suffered a little altitude sickness. Luckily, we had bought some coca leaves...yes the same plant used to make cocaine. However, the dried leaves dissolved in your own saliva do wonders for the altitude.
The next stop was the Lagunas Altiplanicas, which is made up of two lagoons: Miscanti and Minique (with an n-yay). Two breathtakingly beautiful lagoons nestled at the base of a volcano and inhabited with herds of Vicunas (with an n-yay), llama like creatures with skinny legs. (We also got to see a guanaco on the way up, distinguished only by the black face. ) The volcano we saw is sacred to the Andean cultures (Atacameno and Aymara) and is representative of the female part of life. We females are a big deal apparently.
Lunch on the way down in Socaire consisted of a two course Peruvian delight, of course the food must be mentioned.
The town of Toconao was our last stop. Another oasis nestled in the salt flats. It has this beautiful river running through it that we walked along and it ended in this enormous canyon full of trees and flowers and everything you don't expect to see in the desert.
Saturday we had a bit of a lie in and postponed our bike trip to Valle de la Luna for Sunday (yes, I in fact rode a bike). That afternoon we loaded into the van once again with our trusty guide Felipe to bathe in Laguna Cejar, a lagoon salty enough to float in. What a strange experience to be able to float without moving. I kept treading water and then remembering that was completely unnecessary. Since the high salt concentration can irritate your skin the guides bring along bottles of water to essentially hose you down with or you can hold out and jump into Ojos de Salar, which are two round holes in the middle of the desert full of fresh water. There is some speculation as to whether the holes were man made and naturally filled in or are a natural phenomenon. Needless to say we gringos proved our worth by jumping in these pools. Not as cold as expected. Next stop was Laguna Tebinquinche, another salt water oasis smack dab in the middle of the never ending salt flats. Here we watched the sunset, drank pisco sours and got to know our tour mates a little better. Oh, and Dan and Max licked chunks of salt. Turns out that salt is in fact extremely salty, who knew?
side note to the sunsets in Atcama: breathtaking. The sun turns the surrounding mountains purple as it disappears over the horizon. The golden orange fades into a rose and then this purple color I've never seen anywhere else in my life. Of course taking all of the heat with it.


Even now as I sit here reflecting back on this trip, and feeling my first real pangs of homesickness, I can't believe how fortunate I am to be having these experiences and it blows my mind that I have about three more months of adventures to come. Next part to come soon, I figured no human being should have to read this much in one sitting. And realistically, the pictures do this trip way more justice than I can write.

Fotos: Our campsite; Flamingos!; more flamingos!; "Sillon de la suegra" literally means "Mother in laws chair", something to think about; Laguna Miscanti; Max and Dan floating in Laguna Cejar; Dan jumping in Ojos de Salar; Laguna Tebinquinche

Mari, Mari

That means 'hello to all' in Mapudungun, the language of the Mapuches, one of the largest native groups in Chile (I hesitate to say indigenous now because I learned that in Spanish 'indigeno' means without God, more or less, and is sort of offensive. That's why in Spanish the PC way to refer to native groups is pueblos originarios). I know that I've touched a little on the Mapuches, but mostly in reference to the hunger strike that is/was going on, but I would like to go into a little more detail about them since they have really affected my education and experience here more than I anticipated.
As most of you know I am taking a class called Juegos Mapuches, in which we learn about traditional Mapuche games and about their culture, more the games though. We would learn about the games and how they were traditionally played and then play a similar, if not exact, version of the game either on the tennis courts or on the beach (always resulting in lots of sand in my shoes). The most popular game is Palin, and it resembles today's version of field hockey. The game is played with weños and a little ball called a palín. A palín is traditionally made out of a wooden knot taken off a tree (those little knobbly bits that stick out of trees and look about the size and shape of a tennis ball) and are de-barked. The palín is then used in the game until is rounds out a little more due to wear and tear, and then is covered in leather and stitched together. Goat/pig intestines have also been used, specifically bladders... weños are long sticks that have been polished and have a little curve at the end, just like field hockey sticks, but made out of wood instead. I wasn't really sure if Palín was still played in Mapuche tribes, but my doubts were cleared up this past weekend when I went to Pucon with CIEE.
One of the main reasons for playing Palín was to get different communities together to share food and experiences and create a larger sense of belonging between the Mapuches. The men would play Palín, and teach their kids how to make palins, while the women prepared the meal for the communities to share. We watched a video about the traditions in my Juegos class, and it starts out with the two communities marching and playing music. Most of the music they play is simple and involves drums and some tiny bells or chanting. In Pucon we were lucky enough to visit a cultural center in Curarrhue, about an hour outside of Pucon, run by the Mapuche community there. After a tour of the museum we were invited to eat lunch with them on their land. They made us traditional Mapuche food, sopapillas, rice with potatoes, pebre, etc, which was all so delicious and we participated in their dances and rituals of thanking the sacred mountain for the food. We had a drink, made of wheat, cinnamon and water (I think), that you held while taking a moment of silence for the mountain and then poured a little out before drinking it yourself. You also had to do a similar moment of silence before entering a new territory, asking the land if it is okay for you to pass.
After lunch we were given the option to play Palin or learn how to weave. Since I play Palin every Thursday I decided to check out the weaving. They have different stitches that mean different things, like most cultures. They believe that abuela arana taught them how to weave so they have a specific stitch to honor her in addition to a stitch that means dueno, or owner, another honor to grandmother spider. At the end of the day we got to ask them questions about their culture and as it turns out Palin is still a way that the communities get together to share stories, news and culture.That's pretty cool.
In my multicultural education class I've been learning a lot about the Mapuches and how they fit into the education system in Chile. We watched a video that showed how Mapuches traditionally deal with conflict and how as educators and psychologists we have to be conscious of that and not impose our own way of resolving things on the students, in addition to understanding where they are coming from. The video is based on a true story written by Pascual Cona "Testimonio de un Cacique Mapuche" I think it's available online and is around 25 minutes if you have time, it's poorly filmed, but really communicates the point. Since I've been learning about incorporating different cultures into the education system I was interested to hear this Mapuche community's perspective on bilingual education. They said that they mostly speak in Spanish, though they use Mapungo for rituals and common small talk. They are fortunate enough to have a school in town, though other communities are not. Additionally, the native language is not taught in schools, so if they want to learn it it has to come from their community. In and of itself this is a form of discrimination against bilingual education that the Mapuches, at least this community, feel is degrading to them even though they are a large part of the country and the educational laws state that they should not be treated in this way. Some food for thought.
Other highlights of the Pucon trip (October 22nd to 25th): White water rafting through the mountains while watching mist reveal the countryside. The main hall where we stayed was a castle. Salmon dinner on CIEE. Mac and cheese dinner with the girls, with fruit salad and brownie ice cream. Tour of local waterfalls/lagoons (Laguna Azul y Los Saltos) and a trip to Los Pozones, hot springs!

http://s1103.photobucket.com/albums/g466/Amiller237/Chile%202010%20August/

try this link for more pictures.

fotos: Mamulche (literally means 'wood people' they are carved to represent someone who has died. The hand placement means either mountain or water people, hand on genitals means water, hand on heart and genitals means mountain. The water like jug on top indicates gender, large part up is male, large part down is female.); Some pucon bread at a panaderia; Bethan and me with delicious heart cookies; The master teaches us how to weave; me playing Palin in Juegos Mapuches; view of the river next to the land of the Mapuche community we visited; Laguna Azul, properly named.

to come in the next post: San Pedro de Atacama and adventures in the North of Chile.