sunday.
if you wait until the last minute, then it only takes a minute. this beautifully describes my college experience thus far. this week i have fifteen pages of papers due. which means that in the past three days i’ve cleaned my room, responded to emails, painted my toe nails, read a book, watched several september 11th specials with mi papá, and laid out at the beach attempting to rid myself of socks and shorts tans. and it also means that between now and thursday afternoon, you will hear more than you ever desired about my life in chile. here’s to doing anything but studying.
mullets. they’re all the rage in chile. know what else is popular? dreadlocked mullets. why oh why? i just don’t understand. and the man giving the announcements at church today was sporting such a look. my eyes were bleeding. i couldn’t even begin to take him seriously as he talked about the new members class.
the stairs and i have become better friends since that first miserable encounter. this afternoon i wanted to exercise, but didn’t feel like dodging the large number of tourists clogging the streets along the beach. so to the stairs i went. my plan was to run/walk/crawl up and down for a half hour and then call it a day.
halfway up my first lap i was stopped by a woman asking for directions. i am pasty white. wearing a tie dyed shirt. a tie dyed shirt printed with young life college. and i am running. none of the above are the least bit chilean. but she asks away. now here is the moment i’m very proud of. not only did i recognize the street name she wanted, but i knew how to get there. AND i was able to explain it in coherent spanish. while gasping for breath. it’s the little successes.
piropos. they’re like american catcalls, but taken to a whole new level. and when you are a white, “blonde,” american girl, you receive quite a few. most people shrug them off. some even enjoy them. i’m really not one of those people. especially when all i want to do is go on a run uninterrupted by whistles and one liners. on my eighth lap i’m carefully picking my way down the stairs as i slowly lose feeling in my calves. halfway down i hear an “hola!” from below. please please please not right now. “hola” i halfheartedly reply. as i stumble closer, i realize this is not a random middle aged chilean construction worker, nor an arrogant high school student. oh no, this is one of my mountain sports professors. turns out he lives right next door. now it is really warm outside. far warmer than is comfortable for running. he clearly just got out of the shower, but my hair is definitely more damp. and let’s not talk about the rivers running down my face. but without fail he goes in for the customary chilean kiss on the cheek. so sorry that i just got the side of your face wet. and that i thought you were a creepy chilean stranger.
here’s a really awful picture of valparaiso at night. in real life it is breathtakingly gorgeous. i promise.
Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices; my body also will rest secure, because you will not abandon me to the grave, nor will you let your Holy One see decay. You have made known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasure at your right hand. Psalm 16
