Leela´s Monthly Update ©
April 2, 2004 – May 2, 2004
Edition 9

Last I left off, I had little or no complaints. Micah and Tyler had just come to visit, and school was just getting off its feet. So in other words, I was trying to get back into a routine again after having been on the road for three solid months.

La Semana Santa

Shortly after school started was “La Semana Santa,” which literally translated means the week of saints, but figuratively speaking signifies the week that leads up to Easter. Since Chile is a Roman Catholic country, we had that whole week (and part of the next) off from school, which was nice, because it helped with easing into the new (school) year. I did not go anywhere that week but instead stayed in Viña del Mar, spending time with my family and friends. It was rather quiet here during that epoch as many of the new “gringos” had taken advantage of the time off from classes and went to travel. I tried to get ahead as much as possible, but now that I look back on it cannot remember how successful I was. J
Easter was not anything surprising or different for me (aside from the little kids that came around asking for money). I have never celebrated Easter religiously back home in the states, so since my Chilean family does not is also non-practicing, we had our normal Sunday “almuerzo” (lunch) with Marcia and Glen (my Chilean sister and her fiancée who come over every Sunday). The only difference was that we dressed up a little, had a more elaborate meal, and ate more (chocolate mostly), with which I had no problem.


More Visitors

Right after La Semana Santa ended, Suzy and I had the wonderful opportunity of more visitors! I am referring to Lara and Melanie who came and stayed for a few days. Lara was on exchange in Viña last semester but took this semester off to travel and was not supposed to come back to Chile but could not resist the temptation. Melanie, a common friend of both Suzy and I, was a wonderful woman we had met in Sucre, Bolivia, on the dinosaur tour (the Dino Truck) we did while there and we had just stayed in touch since. She is still living in Sucre, Bolivia, working at an orphanage, but she was able to take two weeks off, and since she knew some people (us) in our neck of the woods, it provided for a perfect excuse to come and kill two birds with one stone.


School

I don’t know if I should even start to describe how school has been. Some days I feel the frustration so thoroughly and get so aggravated that I don’t have any motivation to study. The South American school system is so much easier that compared to schools back on “home” turf, Chilean university is a breeze. It is either the case or the complete opposite. I will give examples from my personal experience to solidify: in one of my classes (History of Iran) we have had class for two months and have yet to obtain the official syllabus (Suzy had to pull a few strings to get it and that was a task in itself). However, in my Latin and South American Contemporary Literature Class, there is so much work that it is overwhelming! We have to read eight novels during the semester, the average book being at 300 pages in length, and the longest one at 600 pages. And they are difficult authors (and in Spanish of course). I realized awhile back that the most recommendable thing I can do is to do my best time permitted and live and enjoy life for what it is worth the remainder of my stay here- - because when else am I going to be living in Chile?


Weather

Normally at this time of year I have spring fever, but that took a twist for the opposite now since it is anything BUT spring! Since we are in the southern hemisphere, it has been quite chilly (no pun intended) lately. My scarves have broken themselves out of the closet and they have been making quite a fashion statement. I have also expanded on my beanie selection. So as you can guess, it has been quite frigid as of late. The “estufa” (portable stove) has even started to get utilized, if that is of any relevance to you. It is nearing winter and since there is no central heating, at night, I usually wear three layers. This includes panty hose, socks, pajamas, not to mention my t-shirt, long-sleeved shirt, and sweatshirt. I think my Chilean family thinks I am partially (if not completely) crazy. Aside from being cold, it has actually been decent as far as rain and whatnot, but the wind is so biting you just want to be covered up. And if I have not mentioned Chilean fashion earlier to you, it is quite…interesting. There are many colors adorned by both men and women, and scarves are the next “big thing” here. This includes rainbow colored, bright green, shocking yellow, electric blue, (you get the point) accessories. So, long story short, winter is knocking on the door! Following this, the majority of the Chilean male population has also decided to start hibernating again and grow out their mullets (I do not know how they think it looks attractive). Needless to say, it is quite amusing.


Hospital

The hospital volunteer program is going quite well and has at least met my expectations for the goals I had with expanding it thus far. We got off to a bit of an interesting start due to miscommunications flying all over the place, but after that initial kick-off, things have been going very smoothly. Up to this point, there are twenty people who truly try to come on a weekly basis, which means that anywhere between six and ten actually show up in person. However, this is wonderful compared to last semester, when there was a much lower number in terms of volunteers. It makes me truly happy to see the exchange students come and spend time with the kids out of their own free will, (especially when we surpass the number of Chileans that come J) mainly because I do not know how much the little ones feel loved, special, or needed during their private family lives. (The hospital situation in Chile, at least where we go to volunteer, is such that the parents are prohibited to visit past a certain hour in the afternoon. So that means that from the late afternoon onwards until the early morning, the children are there all alone and most of them are very scared.)


Road Trip…Bariloche, Argentina

You probably are wondering why I wanted to go leave again and go down to Patagonia. Well for those of you who don’t know me well, let’s just say traveling is one of my addictions. J And although I should not have, I allotted myself one big trip this semester; I just did not know to where I was going to go when I had given myself permission to go on a final journey. Well as most things in life pan themselves out, it just so happened that the decision was made for me. One night when Lara, Melanie, Anik (my Canadian friend), Suzy and I went out on the town, and were talking and laughing the night away, the subject of us being sad there was such limited time left to spend together arose. We all agreed; unfortunately (or so it seemed) there was nothing we could do about it. (Lara needed to leave Chile to head to Honduras and Melanie only had two weeks vacation from the orphanage.) Then someone (I think it was Suzy) mentioned how all this talk of leaving and traveling made her want to be traveling again in many ways, especially after being in Viña for such a long stretch without having left (you have to understand that all last semester, whenever we got any opportunity, we were out the door to explore Chile). And we all agreed with her because it had felt like a long time since we had crossed the vicinities of our city limits.
Shortly after, we got on the topic of how we should all go on a “last” trip together somewhere worthwhile. To make a long story short(er), we decided on Bariloche, Argentina as our destination of choice. Unfortunately, Melanie could not join us, as she already had plans to go to Buenos Aires, but with some convincing, we twisted Lara’s arm to change her plane ticket dates and leave Santiago a week later than for which she had originally planned. In addition, I knew that Tyler and Micah (who came to visit me in Viña del Mar the month before) were probably still in Bariloche, thus giving us more incentive to choose Bariloche as our target, as we would be able to kill (various) birds with one stone. Unfortunately, at the last minute, Anik ended up not being able to go because she found out that she got a job in Ecuador and had to leave Chile immediately to go back to Canada for her job training, but she was with us in spirit.
So, with a week to prepare for the time I was going to take off of school, life was a little hectic. I think I slept an average of four hours each night in the days leading up to our journey, trying to get sufficiently ahead in order to not have too much make up work upon my return from Argentina. In many ways it was worth the effort, and also, in many ways it was not.


Getting Robbed…(AGAIN)!

I guess you can say that I have bad luck. You read the headline correctly; I am now standing at two for two, although thankfully this time, it was not at gunpoint. What happened was that in order to get down to Bariloche, Suzy and I had to take a bus, and although the bus system in Chile is really spectacular (much better than the bus system in the USA) bad people exist all over the world. So again, it was not representative of Chile. The same thing could have happened to me anywhere; it was just I being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The first leg of the bus we had went from Viña del Mar directly to Osorno (fourteen hours south). However, the busses stop at each major city on the way there. So the bus on which Suzy and I were boarded went from Viña del Mar to Santiago, and from Santiago headed south. Well our bus got to Santiago ahead of time because there was very little traffic heading out of town, and so we arrived about ten minutes early to the capital. Normally, the bus waits about ten minutes at each major stop, but since it is the largest city in Chile and since we arrived ten minutes early, the bus was stationed there with the announcement on board that we would have a half-hour instead of twenty minutes and to make sure to be back on the bus on time, or else it would leave without us.
I do not like to get out of busses once on the road (I think I get it from my dad and the fear he would leave without me on road trips when I was a kid if I asked him to stop to go to the bathroom) but for whatever reason, I decided to stay on the bus, while everyone else (including Suzy) got off, except for one elderly man who also stayed aboard up towards the front of the bus (I was sitting directly in the middle). It is also the duty of the bus driver to close all bus doors when there is a stop, as many petty thieving does occur in Chile and because during these stops, it is not technically required for the conductor of the bus or the bus attendant (same as a flight attendant except on a bus) to be on guard, doing their job(s). (Notice that I italicized “technically.”)
Suzy had gone inside the terminal to go get some McDonalds, and I told her that I would stay on the bus to watch our stuff so that she did not have to take her purse with her. All of a sudden, after everyone had disembarked, I suddenly realized how tired I was from the commotions of trying to get ahead the previous week in order to meet my goal in going to Bariloche. So, I decided that it was the perfect time to take out my contact lenses, go to the bathroom and put on my pajamas (it was a night bus), and get situated comfortably in order to completely pass out and sleep when the bus started up again.
I had just put on my glasses and taken out A People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn, when a shady character boarded the bus. Now to give you some background on the situation, most all of my friends always give me a hard time for worrying too much about everything and acting like “a mom.” Well my immediate thought was to take my little backpack I bring with me on busses when I travel (which was carefully hidden behind my ski jacket in the overhead compartment into the bathroom with me in order to put on my pajamas. (I never travel with a purse on board because it calls out, “Steal me!” I also had it in the overhead bin and not underneath my chair because the type of style of the seat was such that there was no room to put any carry-on items below- - only in the above compartment. Consequentially, I always take every single precaution and never trust anybody. After all, I traveled by myself for almost a month throughout much of Argentina and Bolivia- - technically the second most corrupt nation in the world after Nigeria.)
So when this fellow got on the bus, the previous was my immediate thought process, especially because he was giving me (very) weird looks and every time we made eye contact since I was observing him, he would look away immediately. So I was not going to risk it because I always believe in “better safe than sorry” and was going to remove my little backpack from its hiding space. Just then, the guy (who I remember clear as day and could identify in two seconds) sat down a few seats behind me, pretending to be a passenger. He even pulled out a magazine and started reading!!
So after I saw this, my thought process was: Leela. Calm down. Why do you always assume the worst in people? He is not going to rob you. You have already been held up once at gunpoint back in November, and two bad things will not happen to you, because you already had your encounter with injustice. Plus, how could he rob you if:
· He is a passenger? Let’s say he did rob you. Well since he is the only suspicious character on the bus, if your backpack is not there when you get back from the bathroom, then you know it was he that took it.
· There is another witness on the bus at the front, and no one would do something when there is another bystander within ten meters.
· The bus assistant is standing right at the bus entrance (the bus entrance, like my seat and the bathroom on board were at the middle of the bus) and he is supposedly doing his job and standing guard of the surrounding activity.
· There are at least eight other people standing around near the bus that are passengers just chit-chatting, including the conductor.
· Lara is also one of those people right outside the bus? (She was meeting us in Santiago, as she was spending time with her boyfriend and our plan was for her to get on board the same bus as it passed through Santiago so as not to waste time nor money receding to Viña del Mar from the capital and then passing back through the city. Although I had still not seen her through the window, I had heard her laugh.)
So I did what any normal human being would do and tried to relax for once in my life! Needless to say, I did not take my travel backpack to the bathroom with me. Less than or equivalent to three (or maximum) four minutes later when I came out of the bus, I got that horrible feeling in my gut. I was the only one on the bus. The apprehensive guy was gone and so was the older man. I knew at that point in time that my backpack was gone. Call it womanly intuition or what have you, but whatever it was, I just knew. There was no point in even checking (which I of course emanated in doing, although it was more going through the motion). I was right. It was gone.
I then proceeded to completely flip out. In a state of shock and panic, I ran out to the door to see if I could spot him, which of course I knew I would not succeed in doing, but I nonetheless still attempted. My next action was to frantically ask the assistant if he saw anyone, to which he replied, “What are you talking about?” I then knew at that point in time that I would never see my bag or its contents ever again.
Directly after this, a whole crowd of passengers surrounded me, and all I wanted to do was to be left alone and/or punch someone or something (mainly the assistant for being such a jerk to me, which I of course did not do). Everyone was giving me the “Poor little dumb foreign girl who is not careful with her stuff but we still feel bad for her” look, which, in turn, just made me more angry, especially because I did not feel like explaining myself to a whole bunch of strangers that I would never see again in the existence of my human life. And I don’t know about you, but when I am truly mad, the thing that makes me most angry is when someone that does not know me tells me that it is going to be okay or to calm down. I hate that!
But I was not left alone. Directly after the occurrence of the crime, I then had to thoroughly explain my story at least twice and fill out a police report, about which I could have cared less at that point in time. It was, at least, a true test of my Spanish speaking abilities, as I had to meticulously explain, pass by pass, what had happened to me to the officer. The only thing that satisfied me then were the facts that: I realized that I could, even at a time when, I was thinking in English, still effectively communicate what had occurred, that I knew that Suzy would be getting on board soon and would give me a muscle relaxer, and that the thief would some day get his in some way, shape, or form. (It turns out that exactly while I was in the bathroom, the elderly man who was sitting up front that was supposedly the one the driver “put in charge” of the bus during the layover, saw that I was in the bathroom. Since he did not see anyone else on board and since the thief was very sneaky, during those few crucial minutes, he decided to go grab a near bite to eat at a kiosk.)
And that is how I got robbed.
Now, there is nothing I can do about it and that makes me angry but the most important things are that: Suzy’s purse did not get stolen (I do not know how I could have dealt with the guilt I would still have if it were and am so glad it was my stuff instead of hers), that I am okay, that the thief did not take anything completely irreplaceable, and that everyone I know be warned of this scam. (Thankfully I had downloaded the eighty pictures I had saved on my digital camera earlier in the day before I left for the trip.)
However, if I had to make a million guess on the criminal, I would say it was the bus assistant for the following reasons:
· How did the thief know where my backpack was since it was gingerly hidden behind my jacket and was out of sight to him?
· Why did he not take Suzy’s purse, which was in plain sight and instead take my mini backpack?
· How did he know that the contents of my property contained items that would be of great value to him (i.e., my digital camera) when he never saw my backpack or the items inside of it?
· Who was an obvious schmuck to me and very rude the whole time?
· Who was the only one (besides Suzy) who saw the contents of my bag as he was asking for my bus ticket and proceeded to sneak a peek as I was rummaging through my carry-on, then, when I proceeded to ask him to come back in a few minutes to give me some time, advanced closer to me and firmly told me, “No. I will not leave until you find the ticket to give me. And if you do not find it within the next few minutes, you will have to purchase an entirely new voucher.”
· Was he that engrossed in his daily gossip with whoever he was conversing while I was in the bathroom that it is really possible that he did not see anyone during the three minutes I was in the bathroom get off the bus?
· Why would any decent human being say, “You know, that is really too bad what happened to you up there. But just so you know, it was your fault and your carelessness that you got robbed, not mine…just so you know”?
· Why was the bus door left open when technically it was supposed to remain shut?
So like I said, there is nothing that can be done. What is done is done. Terminado. Completo. However, I believe this is a Pullman Bus scam and that it was an inside job and that the actual thief was not the one who planned this all out. (And in talking with some people I know, suspiciously, the same thing has occurred to them in almost the same kind(s) of situation(s)…weird, isn’t it?) Luckily, I have the police report that says it was not my fault and that it was the fault of the company more than mine, and I saved all receipts (like my bus ticket), and I have two witnesses, Suzy and Lara, as well as the police officer. In the next days to come, I am going to write a detailed formal complaint to Chilean National Television (my host father has a connection), get a copy of the police report, and make a copy of my bus ticket and fax it in. I might never see my bag or its contents again, but at least I can warn other people so as to prevent the same damage to occur to someone else.



(Trying to) Enjoy the Beautiful Patagonian Mountains of Argentina…

So aside from the pernicious robbing incident, I really did (try to) enjoy myself as much as possible. Truth be told, I was really trying to put aside what had happened to me and have fun with my friends (which was the whole reason for the trip in the first place) so as not to rain on everyone else’s parade. However, in all honesty, I was incredibly sad the whole week and just wanted and needed a good, long cry. However, since I did not have any alone time the entire duration of my trip, I was my own stubborn self in front of everyone and held it all in. Thankfully Lara, Suzy, and Tyler were truly wonderful to me and they all showed me that they honestly care(d). So that said, I have some great friends (thanks you guys!) and if I could go back in time and delete what happened, I would not because I believe that at least for my personal case, that everything happens for a reason. And I did have some indelible and unforgettable memories with them. So needless to say, we did a bunch of walking and exploring the Patagonian Mountains of Argentina, and the cabin where we stayed was amazing in all senses- - accommodations, location, and price.
We also got to go into town for a full day, eat the best chocolate I have ever tasted on the planet, go to a live flamenco show with a very passionate guitarist, and meet wonderful people, like Janet, my new Mexican/Colombian friend who lives in Tokyo, and Javier and Sergio, my super entertaining Chilean friends. There are two sides to every coin, right? That is what I tell myself…
Apart from that, Bariloche was simply beautiful. It was one of my top places out of all of my travels last South American summer when I went with Sam, but it completely surpassed all expectations I had in terms of beauty because of all the autumn colors of the trees and mountains. For any of you who are looking into a place in which to retire, I would highly consider investing in property outside of Bariloche. Enough said, I will let my attached pictures speak for themselves.



Miscellaneous

Everything else is going quite well aside from the fact that I have been a bit emotional lately and sad at the thought of going back to the USA. Don’t get me wrong, I am very excited to see everyone upon my return, but there are just so many wonderful things about Chile (mainly my family and my friends). However, the average “Leela” day has been great and the only complaint I have is that I wish I didn’t get my camera (or my cell phone, or my wallet) stolen a few weeks back. But like I always say, there are bigger problems in life (like the war in Iraq)! I have my routine down pat now and also have started yoga classes at the institute here (which I totally love by the way and will continue to pursue upon my arrival). So life is good!


What Next?!?

It hit me very recently how little time I have left. I feel as if I started here on the one year constant, yet as each day has progressed, that line has become smaller, bit-by-bit, and it now morphed into a variable, especially since I do not know where exactly my life is taking me in the months to come. However, that is what I love and embrace about life, the unknown, the excitement, and going along for the ride, even if I am the type of person who likes to plan for everything (or as much as possible that is in under my control). Now there is only that miniscule chunk left, which is why I have been so busy lately, trying to fully take advantage of the things that, once I return, will not be able to do for some time. But like looking in the mirror at oneself on a daily basis, one does not realize the subtle changes that he or she encounters because it does not seem extraordinary until one day that person looks back, at a picture for instance, and realizes the leaps and bounds he or she has crossed.
I remember a conversation Lara and I had while we were trekking through the Patagonian Mountains. We were talking about the fact that we logically knew that we were in Patagonia at the time, hiking and appreciating the untouched, crisp beauty of the tip of the Andes. However, in twenty years when we look back, it will probably seem amazing to us that we traveled through much of South America. It just seems so strange to say, "Yes, I have spent a good time at the bottom of the world," for instance, but really, I do not feel like I am doing anything other than what I would be doing back in the states, except for the fact that I am traveling a lot more, observing other cultures, and speaking another language. However, doing all of this does not seem weird, strange, or foreign to me, because it is not and should not be that way. It is just a change from my normal way of looking at life (which is not "normal" in the first place J) and it is just living it in a different form.
Don't get me wrong- - I am still the same person, but maybe I have just open my eyes to the omnipresent ignorance, or better put, lack of knowledge that I previously missed and for which I am so grateful that I currently have. This is not to say I am still not unaware about (many) issues, because there is so much about so many things that I will never know. However, my lifelong goal is to absorb as much as possible about the unknown and spread it on to the people that care enough to ask or learn, which is why you are receiving this in the first place. This is not even to say that I have even seen the majority of South America, because trust me, I have not. I have thoroughly seen about one third of it, but have not even touched Brazil, Paraguay, Uruguay, either of the Guyanas, Suriname, Colombia, Venezuela, or Ecuador. And just like Iran and Iraq being completely different universes, for instance, each and every country in South America truly has its own culture. You probably think I am exaggerating, which is fair to assume, because I did not really think that there would be so much distinction between culture, history and language here until I saw it for my own eyes, but you will have to take my word for it until you do it for yourself in order to believe what I say.
Apart from that, this next month, Molly and Abby (two of my great friends who were here last semester on exchange) are coming to visit! We are all so excited to be reunited again, to laugh and talk, to hang out and to speak Spanish. In addition to that, I don’t have any trips planned or anything like that, but just normal everyday routine stuff (family, friends, school, exercise, etc) Again, I apologize for having this out so late. Just know that I will keep you all informed when I get the opportunity.

The End

" When Americans do these things, I don't think all Americans are bad. And if one Muslim is bad, it doesn't mean all Muslims are bad either.” (Hidayat Bin Ismail, a 19-year-old Singaporean)