Sometimes my life in this house feels like a scene out of a movie. I come downstairs, walk into the empty kitchen and cut a kiwi in half. I take it into the sala de estar, where natural light is coming through the window wall and making the bricks of the floor glow. (Not bright sunlight, or even warm sunlight today. Rainy light.) Instrumental piano music is playing, and sounds like a soundtrack. Spanish conversation is happening in the next room. Telma the cat is actually approaching me for affection. How could all this possibly be real? But I guess it is.
Today was a hallmark day. Today was the day I learned to make cazuela. Yes. Cazuela. Cazuela is probably my favorite Chilean meal. It’s a soup, but it’s all portioned out neatly. One chunk of corn on the cob (choclo) for everyone, one piece of chicken for everyone, etc. It’s a very orderly soup. None of this haphazard ladling. There are also other delicious things like green beans and squash and potatoes hiding out in it. And today I learned to make it! Lunch was delicious, if I do say so myself.
Chilean dinner, or once, is a funny thing, First of all, I don’t think we’ve ever eaten it at once (eleven). Uusally it’s between 7 and 9:30. My very favorite once is probably hallulla (my favorite dense bread) with cheese and avocado. I could probably just eat it every night. Oftentimes we’ll have toast and leftovers from lunch. Sometimes scrambled eggs and hot dogs. In some houses it is the same every night. Hallulla, with your choice of cheese, meat, or manjar for toppings. But in our house it changes a lot. Most nights my host mom asks what we would like. This is so strange for me. If someone is going to prepare a dinner for me, I will happily eat whatever they would like to prepare. Tonight was a strange once. My Chilean dad and I share an affinity for sweet things, and so he brought home a cake filled with manjar and whipped cream for dinner, ha. So that is exactly what I ate. I am fully a part of dinner conversations now, almost always knowing what we’re talking about and able to articulate my opinion. We often listen to the news, which sparks all sorts of interesting conversation.
No smooth transition here, but I just want to talk about how Luz has become one of my dearest friends. This has sort of changed my view on things. I know her opinions and problems and hard things and funny things and she knows mine. The fact that this is possible even though the majority of our interaction is in Spanish is still sort of surreal to me. I am so grateful for the fantastic people I have met here.
Speaking of Luz, she very graciously lets me study at her pensión. This is fun because there are all sorts of Chilean girls just sort of thrown together by chance in one house. Studying (and sometimes more like “studying”) there is 100% enjoyable. I already enjoy Luz’s company, but getting to watch all of these other witty ladies interact and discuss their opinions on their world has also become one of my favorite things. I think the walk home is probably almost an hour, but sometimes I like to do that instead of take a taxi. Especially if it’s a drizzly night. I’ve got an umbrella, and my host dad’s giant raincoat. For me, Valdivia is not losing any of her charm. I love letting myself into my sleeping house, hanging up my wet clothes near the glowing fire and finally sliding under those delicious, heavy covers, trying to stay awake just long enough to remember my day.
And that last part is precisely what I’m going to do now.
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| In the Mapuche village just outside of Pucón. |
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| Playing that hockey-like game again. Kids whooped our booties again, too. |
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| Oh, Nacho. You haven't changed a bit. |
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| Honorary Mapuche. |
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| Bless your heart, you wet dog, you. |
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| Pretty hike, sunlight through the fog. |
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| It was fun to come back to this hike in the southern hemisphere's version of May. |
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| Dividing up the cazuela. |
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| Typical weekend lunch. |
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| Thank goodness for cake for dinner and Chilean dads with a sweet tooth. |
