A month in the U.S.: What I miss, what I don’t miss, and what’s the same

May21

After spending so much time in the world’s driest desert, where it sometimes does not rain for decades, and the temperature barely changes from one month to the next, I have found myself absolutely amazed at how quickly the seasons come and go in the U.S. I arrived in mid-April to snow, rain and fog and barely-above-freezing temperatures. Tonight, about a month later, I stepped outside and it felt hotter than any night I ever experienced in South America even at the height of summer. Of course, I have noticed that we are very concerned about weather here in the Midwest (our local news is obsessed) and this is clearly why: it changes dramatically every day. It can also be incredibly dangerous in these parts of the world, as yesterday’s weather-related tragedies in Oklahoma reminded us.

When I was looking through my photos (most taken in the past 2 weeks) to decide what to post, I realized that already the outdoors looks different: the leaves have fully emerged and the tulips are all gone, replaced by fragrant lilacs and lily of the valley. (They’re so different than the cactus or succulent flowers that I grew accustomed to in recent months, which more or less bloom throughout the year in Northern Chile.) There’s a certain frenzy to the flowers here, as they seem to know their days are numbered and they emerge in aggressively showy and fragrant displays.

What have I been doing? Well, I’ve been acclimating to a very different pace of life, in some ways quieter (no live music outside my window at midnight), and in some ways busier (why is it that there’s always something to do, see, watch?)

Someone asked me on Twitter a week ago if I missed the desert. I can say that I do not. The desert did not agree with me, and I like the sounds and color and madness of the endless green land of Michigan (even if it is home to many unpleasant creatures – I got bitten by a tick a few nights ago, a most unpleasant experience).

So, do I miss anything about South America? Well, I actually miss a few things, besides, of course, a few of my friends that I made there and its wine. I was actually surprised that I missed some of these things:

Spanish. This is the bane of my existence in Chile because I am not close to being fluent, but also, I sort of got used to hearing the rhythms of the language every day. When I am in stores here, I am still – even a month later – startled when hearing almost everyone speaking English, which seems harsh and feels odd, like I’m an eavesdropper, because I can understand everything anyone is saying. When I do hear Spanish speakers around town, I actually find the sound soothing. I also wonder if my brain just got so used to tuning into other languages that it misses the mental exercise every day. Now, this will be alleviated when I return to Montreal next week. I believe I am simply used to hearing romance languages and I will definitely be surrounded by French before I know it.
I thought I’d be excited to eat my first donut in nearly a year but the experience was completely unsatisfactory. I blame the absolutely divine Argentinian pastries I had back in January. Argentinian pastries called facturas - sold for less than 50 cents apiece at any corner bakery in Buenos Aires – are basically the best thing ever. They are essentially a light, flaky pastry like a croissant, stuffed with something amazing like cream or fruit or dulce de leche, then cooked in a very hot oven so they are just a little crispy on the outside and very soft inside. Then some of them are sprinkled with sugar or cinnamon sugar. I ate like 3 a day when I was in Buenos Aires. My goal when I return to Montreal is to see if I can find anyone there who sells these things. There are Argentinians in Montreal: my theory is that there must be Argentinian facturas somewhere.
The avocados. They simply have much more flavor and are creamier.
Sitting on the beach listening to too-loud music while drinking a caipriñha. Well, okay. I knew I’d miss that.

There are tons of things I don’t miss, though. On the top of my head, the biggest reliefs about being home in North America are:

Not having to spend 8 hours cooking a meal because so many things are readily available, pre-prepared, and the right kitchen utensils are also available. The ovens are also hotter and more reliable here.
I can speak the language fluently, which means I can always be understood by other people, so yay for that.
Not getting a stomach bug approximately every 14 days. Yeah… the food/water/general environment/etc. definitely sits with me better here.
The joys of online shopping. I mean… the Fedex guy arrives with it right. at. your. door. Like, 2 days later.
Going to the grocery store and it always has everything you need. Not every item was always in stock back in Chile. All of the essentials were, but I’d often have to wait months for my favorite kinds of crackers, pasta sauce or spices like nutmeg, chile powder or even cinnamon to be back in stock.

And then there are some things that are the same no matter where I go, so I can’t miss them:

Insects. I used to complain all of the time about the cockroaches and mosquitos in summer in Chile but then we have ticks and mosquitos here in the spring. Same difference. In fact, I think I prefer the random roach to the random tick.
Grumpy and rude, or sweet and kind people… they can be found all over the world.
Chocolate is delicious no matter where you are.
The Internet is the same everywhere. I love logging on to Twitter in Santiago and then logging on to the same Twitter the next morning after a flight in Dallas. I mean, stop and think about it for a moment…it really is a miracle.

Well, that is all for now! I will be back in two weeks when I am back in Montreal. I am going to continue blogging, but I have some plans to revamp a few things around here, so stay tuned. I can’t wait to feature one of my favorite cities in the world, and at the nicest time of year, too! La belle province in June… à bientôt!

What I’ve “packed up” from my travels

Apr23

Last week was filled with whirlwind travels. My husband and I once again ventured into the El Loa region of Chile to the village of San Pedro de Atacama. There, we explored ruins from a 12th century settlement and rode horseback through cliffs and valleys, enjoying a spectacular sunset over the Andes mountains and several volcanoes towards the end of the ride. I can’t wait to share more about this mini trip with you next week, as soon as I upload some of my photos!

Then, I returned to Antofagasta to pack up months’ worth of things into 2 suitcases under the 50 lb weight restriction imposed by the airlines, and a day later hopped a plane (or three) to the United States.

It was so refreshing to arrive back in my home country, the U.S., after months and months away. I used to get reverse culture shock when I was away from home for too long, but I can’t say it’s really a problem anymore. The only thing I am “out of practice” with is checking out at the grocery store: I am much slower than the other customers and since a lot of my bank cards expired while I was away (I haven’t yet gotten my mail in Canada) I have been using cash, which I guess is just something that’s not done around here anymore judging from the impatient sighs of the people behind me in line when I start counting out my change.

I will continue to blog at least weekly. In a few weeks, I will be returning to Canada and intend on making this a more Montreal-centric blog. However, my travels are far from over so if you are interested in continuing to follow me around to different places, you still will be able to!

Packing up

A week or so ago, as I looked out across the sparkling waters of the Pacific Ocean in Chile, almost completely white and ice-blue in the intense 4pm sunlight, my mind wandered from what to pack in my luggage to return to North America for a few months to what I will really take with me when I leave Latin America. Things that I learned. Things that aren’t so easily purchased, folded, and packed.

Joseph Campbell once said that learning to live is much more important than learning the reason for living. I would say that this is what has happened during my time abroad. I think many people who go abroad are seeking some truth or meaning in life, but I think the most you can hope for is to learn how to function better in life. (Full disclosure: as you know, I am not someone who has spent time in Latin America for this reason; I was pulled out of North America because of my husband’s career, so my reasons coming here were a little different. Perhaps that affected the results of my journey.) If I could tell anyone who wanted to escape their home or country one piece of advice, it’s that moving to another country is not an escape from reality – especially in this day in age where technology means that our worlds follow us wherever we go. So don’t go abroad expecting to “escape it all.” In fact, life will probably be much, much harder abroad than you ever bargained for, for so many reasons. Instead, go and expect to learn how to function better in the world that we all share. That is all.

Anyways, enough being didactic. I decided to make a little list of things I learned during my time in Chile. I wasn’t sure, when starting to writ the list, whether it would end up being funny or serious. Instead, I guess the best way to describe how it turned out was simply practical. It’s a list of things that I learned while here that helped me to be a more practical, pragmatic, grounded person, who survived in a new place, spent most of my time here in relatively good health, and learned a thing or two.

Just to note, I don’t know how many of these things are specific to the town where I lived. They are not necessarily representative of what someone might learn throughout Chile or Latin America. Or maybe they are. I’m not sure. They are just reflective of my experiences.

1. Eat fresh food. My brother, a bit of a foodie, recently asked me to bring him back something that Chileans would eat “every day”. I thought about what this would be: meat, seafood, fresh fruit and some vegetables, potatoes, herbs, white bread. Those are the most Chilean foods I could think of. And of course, none of those things can be packed in a suitcase or will be allowed through customs upon my arrival in the U.S. The lesson here is that the best way to experience a native diet when abroad is to buy the most locally-sourced foods possible: the things that aren’t packaged, wrapped, boxed or otherwise sealed. The most commonly consumed packaged foods in Chile, the things I probably could have taken through customs, were the most basic things we easily find in the U.S. (in fact, some of them even were from the U.S. or the same suppliers to American grocers: canned corn, dry beans and rice, lentils, hearts of palm, canned fruit, black tea, chocolate bars, potato chips, ketchup and mayonnaise.) Of course, there’s always wine I could take back, but unfortunately my luggage was already dangerously close to the weight limit!

2. Always carry a flashlight. One thing that I will always remember about Antofagasta, and all other cities I visited in South America, is how incredibly dark they are at night. Lit by the feeble orange glow of street lights, few and far in between compared to the multitude of bright white street lamps found throughout most urban centres in North America, sidewalks and streets even in the busiest urban centres like Santiago or Buenos Aires can be very, very dim. Add blackouts – not super frequent, but often enough – and I quickly learned that I need to be sure to have a flashlight with me at all times when walking around at night, especially when I am alone. Similarly, I always had a big box of matches and plenty of candles within reach at home because we seemed to lose our electricity on average once every 2-3 weeks or so.

3. Carry a small package of facial tissues in your purse, along with hand sanitizer, everywhere. This is a pretty basic rule of thumb I think for anyone travelling anywhere outside of North America (or even those travelling within rural North America). Let’s just say toilet paper and soap doesn’t always come standard, even in the relatively better-kept restrooms.

4. Women older than me are entitled to cut in front of me in line. On the other hand, I have also had girls younger than I step aside and let me go in front in line (although this is a relatively rare occurrence.) I found Chile to be a deeply matriarchal society, and also a culture that values those who are older. Combine the two with their – shall we call it, eagerness – to be in the front of a line or at the head of a crowd, waiting in line turned out to be a whole new experience. I never really got used to all of the cutting, though.

5. Personal space. What is personal space? In Chile, the closer to a stranger you are, the better. I felt like people were practically on top of me at all times – in line, on the escalator, picking out a can of beans at the store – at all times when in public. The strangest thing is, it is almost an art form. Even though people get literally right next to me, so close, they almost never end up touching me or brushing my clothes.

6. Classic, feminine fashion always wins. If you are a woman of any age and want to look good in South America, when in doubt, have long (long, long, long), flowing hair, high heeled shoes, and put on a perfectly (if not a bit tight) fitting, classic black outfit. I will never look at fashion the same after this experience: I really appreciate the attitude that clothes should be tidy, neat, clean, classic, and hug you in all of the right places. This goes for the men, too, who (aside from younger men on weekends who wear the standardshorts and a t-shirt), wear classic, crisp white shirts and dark slacks. I have to say I missed trends when I was away (few seemed to make it all the way to northern, rural Chile), but I do have a new appreciation for the classic, feminine standard of beauty that Chilean women – and most other Latin American women I saw in my travels – seemed to subscribe to.

7. The car doesn’t wait for you; you wait for the car. Pretty much self-explanatory. Where I lived, the pedestrians never had the right of way and you had to stay very, very vigilant at all times when walking places.

8. Life improves significantly if you can communicate with the locals. I emerged from South American with far-from-perfect Spanish. However, I am able to communicate with many Spanish speakers with relative ease, and I think that made all of the difference in my experience. I’d never want to spend a long time abroad anywhere unless I knew how to communicate in the native language. It’s like losing one of your senses if you cannot do it. Now that I’m back in the U.S., I’m also happy that Spanish is still such a practical and important skill here, too!

So, those are the main things I have taken away from my stays in Chile. What are some of the things you have learned when living or travelling abroad?

An Ode to Argentina

Mar14

I had another post planned for today, but then a pope was elected yesterday from Argentina and I thought I might share a few of my final thoughts about Argentina in honor of the occasion. I also figured I would take advantage of the excuse to write a bit of a “recap” of my experiences in Argentina because I don’t think I’ll be going back there for a while, as next month I plan on returning to the United States and then Canada. My South American travels will be put on hold until late this year… or perhaps even later than that… and I’d like to wrap up these next few weeks with some final posts about Chile.

So, yes, final thoughts on Argentina (at least for a while). I was still in shock after finding myself in South America in late 2011 when my husband suggested we visit Buenos Aires in October of that year. I wasn’t expecting anything, really… just another big city, and if I was lucky, I figured it might have some interesting shopping.

But it had so much more. I found inspiration that literally changed my life: it made me realize that I wanted to go back to school just so I could write about the discoveries I had stumbled upon in Buenos Aires. The stories, the history, the architecture, the politics, the people, all had inspired me in such a deep way. I had known I wanted to go back to school to get a master’s for years, but ever since I graduated from my bachelor’s I had been searching for what I really wanted to study. Finally, after my trip in 2011, I decided to study Community Development and write a history involving some research on Argentina. (Now you can find me at my desk 12-14 hours a day doing just that.)

I know I have spent relatively little time in Argentina and most certainly do not know it like someone who would have spent longer there – not to mention someone who grew up there or was from there. Other than that week in Buenos Aires (with a quick jaunt to the rural pampas), I spent a long weekend there in May 2012, a week in Cordoba, Argentina in October 2012 and a week in Buenos Aires again in January 2013. But – and this, you guys, is why everyone should travel – I inexplicably connected with the country, the land, the culture, the cities, the energy, the people and even the language. I have no idea why. Truly. I don’t know why. Maybe my enthusiasm will prompt someone to take a trip there someday and afterwords comment, “what in the world was she so obsessed over?” I have no idea and I am sorry if that ends up being you. But just as I have met people who have inexplicably connected with India, Polynesia, Ireland, Italy, etc., I have found that magical connection with Argentina. It will forever be one of my favorite places visited in the world.

Perhaps I connected with their land because of my own rural, agricultural upbringing. Many people there are very proud of their agriculture, as well they should be. Their grocery stores were overflowing with lovely produce in the summer, and their gelato – made with fresh milk and cream – is the best I’ve had in the world (don’t tell Italy). They will talk to you about the weather, and intense weather it is: I have grown accustomed to the thunderstorms that the plane will inevitably fly over when crossing the flat stretch of land of the Argentinean pampas between the Andes and the Atlantic, and the deluge of rain (and subsequent floods gushing down the cobblestone streets of Recoleta) I experienced my last morning in Buenos Aires in January was epic. But I love its intensity. On a random note, I also love the smell of the trees in their woods. I don’t know why but they smell great.

Then there is the aesthetic in Argentina. The beauty of the buildings in Buenos Aires, that draw their influences from throughout Europe and around the world, transforming them and making them into their own. There’s the harshness of a rural cabin in the vast landscapes of Buenos Aires or Cordoba province, and the pastoral beauty of old country homes and estancias, looking like something transported straight out of an ancient Roman landscape, in the mountains and plains of the country. Make no mistake, this is a country with a turbulent history, and their architectural features reflect all of the good and the bad. But I think there is an undeniable beauty in that, too. And then there is the fashion aesthetic: I find their sense of style, their eye for detail, color, form and function to be incredible. You can still find carefully handmade clothes, jewelry, and handwoven textiles, crocheted and knitted pieces, which in any other country would easily quality as luxury and well out of reach of the average person, made with care by experienced hands, for reasonable prices.

They are people with stories, most of whom I always found to be helpful and welcoming and pleasant especially compared to most places I’ve been to in the world. They seem involved and active. They seem to believe in something.

I also saw, on a national level, that they had a female president, which led me down all kinds of paths in my research. Ultimately, I wonder why in North America have we had all kinds of waves of “feminism” but never a woman who held the most prestigious position in our government? (And one who is also a mother, a wife to a former president, and impeccably stylish to boot?) I’ll leave you to form your own opinions, but I assure you, I’ve formed mine.

Their history is fascinating, and as an American I felt like I could connect to it in some familiar way. Our countries have had some similar experiences, and branched away from each other in other regards. Still, discovering a history of a “cousin country” to the U.S. in the Americas, like Argentina’s, is interesting and subsequently helped me to reflect more deeply on the United States’ history.

Need I say anything about their Malbec or Torrontes wine? So lovely, especially with a bowl of pasta or a few wood-fired empanadas, or, of course, their famous juicy steaks, fired in a wood oven, seasoned with just a tiny bit of salt and pepper, and served still sizzling on your plate. I’m not a meat person – I rarely eat red meat especially – but this is enough to make me hungry whenever I think of it.

Like the hot red sunrises and sunsets I’ve come to associate with the skies of Argentina (and are immortalized in a painting I bought from an artist in Buenos Aires last year), my time there was brief but it left an indelible impression. And while someone else may not feel at all the same as I do about Argentina, I hope that you all have the chance to travel and fall in love with an unexpected place like I have.

Iglesia de los Capuchinos, Cordoba

March: when summer slips into “autumn”

Mar6

The packed public beach in February

I’ve enjoyed writing about my trip to Buenos Aires in January so much that I have completely neglected to write about Chile over the past few weeks. Now that we are in March, it’s already nearly the end of summer and the start of another school year for Chileans (and my husband, a university professor). Of course, since we are more or less on the Tropic of Capricorn, I find “summer” to be a loose term. In this area of Chile, the weather never dips below 50F (15 C) any time of year, and if you ask me, winter is characterized by “slightly less intense sun” vs. the “deadly intense sun” of summer. Needless to say, I certainly do not feel in the mood to start sipping hot cocoa or wearing suede boots and tights around town now that we have reached the Southern Hemisphere equivalent of September in the north, as the shift into fall is virtually unnoticeable save for a few more clouds at night that have me grabbing for a light sweater after 9pm.

Public beach, Antofagasta, on the weekend before back-to-school

So how was my summer vacation? I can hardly say. Buenos Aires seems like a long time ago now, although that truly did feel like summer to go away and enjoy a change of scenery for the week. As for the weeks after, I have to admit that I have been busy and focused enough with schoolwork for my master’s program back in Canada that it almost doesn’t matter that I am physically located Chile.

Almost … but not quite. I am still appreciating Chile’s long, endless stretches of rocky coastline that provide great viewing, Instagram material, and space to focus on while daydreaming (or in my case, procrastinating).

I think many people back home have the impression that I go to the beach to hang out there a lot, but it’s worth noting that most of the coastline here is very rocky and impossible to actually “go to” save for a few public beach areas once cleared by the city and filled in with sand, which are overcrowded with people, stray dogs and food vendors all day long throughout the summer. Also, let’s just say that the photos I post online of the beach don’t have the ability to capture smells… if they did, I’m afraid most viewers back home would understand another reason why I don’t go to the beach too often.

Instead of going to the beach, I simply have gazed at it a lot over the past few weeks. And that’s nothing to complain about.

In February, most Chileans had at least a week or two off of work, many even longer, and students enjoyed their summer holidays. Chileans reserve the month for quality time with family. Many flock out of Chile’s industrial, mining and business cities like Antofagasta to the more picturesque oceanside escapes in other parts of the country to rest on more tranquil beaches and enjoy endless asados, or barbecues, with extended family.

This week was the first week back to school for students and most families have now returned home and to work, refreshed and relaxed after the restful month.

Families walking (and riding 4-wheeled multi-rider bikes of sorts) along the coastline

It’s such an ingrained part of the culture for young and old to take a stretch of time off in February that Chilean acquaintances I have seen this week seem absolutely devastated when I tell them that my husband and I didn’t leave the city at all in February and haven’t seen friends and family during this almost sacred time. I can’t emphasize how sad the look that they give me is. Of course, they don’t understand that unlike them, I have absolutely no cultural way of connecting of “February” with “vacation”. Not to mention, North Americans never take a whole month off of work in the summer to see friends and family. The Canada Day weekend or 4th of July weekend is the closest we can relate to this tradition, but those are usually just 2-3 day holidays for families, not month-long vacations. Still, the looks of devastation that flash across their faces when I tell them we took no time off to leave the city in February and see family give me pause. Why am I so nonchalant about never having had weeks at a time off in the summer to spend with my family 24/7, and they seem to think that that would be the end of the world to go without such a time?

Clouds at night herald in “autumn”

Fine Art (literally) on the Streets of Buenos Aires

Feb28

Mural by Cuban street artist Jorge Rodriguez-Gerada in the neighbourhood of Colegiales (and a taxi cab in front)

How would you like to live in a house that is, quite literally, a work of art? I think I might.

The second walking tour I took in Buenos Aires last month was a street art walk through several Buenos Aires neighbourhoods. I once again loved going off the beaten path into a few more residential neighbourhoods to discover the vibrant gems hidden on the walls of buildings, homes and public spaces.

Exterior of a building in Palermo

Before I talk about this little adventure, I have to emphasize what a different experience I had in Buenos Aires my 3rd time around. My first two visits were whirlwind trips that really took me to a few very specific, some very touristy, “must see” spots around the city. During the third trip, it was fascinating to also be in the city during the quiet month of January – it really felt like the entire (usually hectic) city was sort of taking a siesta, taking things easy – and I relished in wandering off the beaten paths. Of course, I have still only seen a minuscule portion of the city. Like New York or Paris, you really would need months – no, years – to get a full grasp of this city.

If I had to design an ideal vacation in Argentina, I would have to make it last at least a month: one week in Buenos Aires to see all of the tourist highlights, one week in the rural pampas, one week in another, smaller (but still sizeable city like Cordoba or Mendoza, and then a final week (or two…) again in Buenos Aires to go off the beaten track. I’ll definitely keep that in mind for when I have a few spare dollars lying around…

A door on a home in Colegiales

Anyways, for my second walking tour, I first had to find a brightly-painted home in the middle of a residential neighbourhood that I’d never been to before. It was the rendez-vous for the group. I asked for directions several times (Starbucks are everywhere, and their employees and patrons were particularly pleasant to me that hot, humid afternoon as they directed me to the right place) but I still managed to get spectacularly lost in the dizzying heat and ended up hopping in a taxi for a short ride (around some construction – that was what had been tripping me up) to the right spot. I then spent four hours with the English-speaking, Argentine tour guide and a group of tourists from around the globe wandering around a the tree-lined sidewalks of neighbourhoods in the city’s barrio norte.

There are a few good street art walking tours to choose from in Buenos Aires, and I just randomly picked Graffitimundo (link here).

Exterior of a shop in Palermo Soho

As we wandered from one spectacular mural to the next, our guide also took us through the history of street art, which was different than I expected. When many of us from North America, Europe or Australia think of street “art,” also known as graffiti or tagging, we usually imagine it as an illegal (or at best frowned-upon) activity peppered with shady characters and underground artists. But, go figure, in Argentina – a country that I have grown to generally associate with art, resourcefulness and activism – “graffiti” has been elevated to a higher art form. The magnificently coloured spray painted murals on buildings, homes, and in parks? I learned that all of the murals we saw on the tour were totally legal and in fact most prominent street artists are encouraged by many homeowners, business owners and others to grace their buildings and walls with the technicolor murals.

Exterior of a restaurant, Tegui, in Palermo, Buenos Aires by artist cabaio

The art form first appeared in Buenos Aires in the 90s, when middle class youth were intrigued by the street art they saw in pictures and on tv shows of cities in the U.S. Artists from all over the world have since visited Buenos Aires to grace its walls with their work. We learned throughout the day that many artists have distinct styles and have evolved through the years. Some artists do commercial graphic design work and reserve their street art escapades as a side hobby, others are artists with studios, yet others are devoted street artists and only work on the sides of buildings, and even others are wannabe artists doodling around, hoping one day to make it big on the scene. We also got a glimpse into the fascinating culture and inner politics of the work and dynamics of painting on the street… there’s definitely much more to it than meets the eye.

Detail of Tegui restaurant building in Palermo

Detail of the Tegui restaurant building in Palermo

If you are at all interested in art or graphic design, I think that a walking tour like this is a must-do in Buenos Aires. It’s a city that has truly fostered its own brand of this constantly evolving art form. I was glad I took a tour because guides took me onto side streets, alleys and tucked-away parks where I would have never known to look. Also, this art form is not always permanent, though many pieces in Buenos Aires have been there for years; nonetheless, street art comes and goes all of the time and my guides were up-to-date about each neighbourhood’s masterpiece du jour.

Building in Palermo Soho (and a painted sidewalk, too)

If you don’t have time to take a tour, the neighbourhood of Palermo Soho has a lot of buildings with murals in its alleys (now alleys filled with little art studios and souvenir shops) in the central shopping district near Honduras and El Salvador streets. Many trendy boutiques and studios have commissioned or encouraged artists to paint their exterior walls, and there is even a bar nearby that offers workshops on making stencils and street art.

It was an interesting day and I learned a lot. It made me want to take more walking tours of street art, however, because I felt like I was only getting exposed to just a little bit of that culture in just a few select neighbourhoods. Alas, like I said earlier, Buenos Aires is a big city and I only had a little time. It was a speedy look into a many-layered art culture, but one that was worth braving the heat for nonetheless.

Eva Peron stencil in the bar/studio called “Hollywood in Cambodia”, Palermo Soho

Living history in San Telmo

Feb19

This past month has been characterized by long, languorous summer days. The heat surrounds us in Chile, radiating off of the concrete buildings and seeping into every corner of my apartment. The intense white sun is mercilessly intensified by the giant mirror of the Pacific ocean. Not much happens in February in Chile, and thus I am left with thoughts and memories from other, more action-filled days of the recent past… and schemes and hopes for the near future.

These endless, blurry summer days were kicked off, for me at least, last month during our week away, in Argentina. Although I knew we wanted to have a more laid back trip to Buenos Aires than I’d experienced other times, deciding to do several walking tours in high summer was a challenge in its own right. Still, I managed to meander along the tree-lined sidewalks for miles and miles throughout the city in the heat, fuelled by a few iced coffees and gelato along the way, of course.

Buenos Aires in summer was a strange thing. It was quiet(er than usual), with most of its population having escaped in January to its coastal resorts. This also lent the city – that feels so much like a city from another era any time of the year – an even more peculiar, “time warp” feel than usual. The downtown neighbourhoods, with a lower percentage of its residents present in the summer heat, felt even more like a city that had skipped a few decades.

It was, in that sense, the perfect time to experience one of the city’s oldest, most evocative neighbourhoods: San Telmo.

I booked a walking tour with an American-turned-expat in San Telmo, Rick. Unfortunately for us, we booked the walk on probably the hottest afternoon of the week. For a good three hours we meandered the streets and sidewalks of the shabby neighbourhood, Rick pointing out fascinating street art, places and sights that could otherwise easily (and sadly) be missed by casual passers-by.

Like many parts of Buenos Aires, San Telmo has an intriguing history. Rick recounted its history to us (I later refreshed my memory on Wikipedia before writing this post … it was a hot day after all, and thus only 1/2 of my brain cells were working!) Briefly, it was one of the first neighbourhoods in the city, home to workers and labourers who built the port city on their backs in the 17th century. It was later settled by Jesuits in the 18th century, who wanted to clean up the neighbourhood, though they left after a few decades. Then, better public infrastructure in the mid-19th century transformed the squalor of the working-class neighbourhood into a place of interest for the well-to-do of the city, who moved in and built palatial homes and buildings, modelled after those in Europe. Unfortunately for them, an epidemic swept through the neighbourhood in 1871, prompting the upper classes to flee the area and settle just north of downton in the “Barrio Norte” (where they can still be found today). They left the neighbourhood to the newly-arrived immigrants from Europe who were working in factories in the area. This multicultural flair can still be sensed in the neighbourhood today: I saw elements that were reminiscent of Italy, Britain, Ireland, France, and Russia. Flamboyant architectural detail on historic homes, churches and other buildings borrows heavily from European homelands but is given an exuberance and flair that I have come to associate with Buenos Aires. It was in this era – roughly from the turn of the last century to today – that San Telmo earned its Bohemian flavour and attracted artists and writers and settlers from around the world.

It is certainly a neighbourhood that is a product of its past. In fact, I am not sure I have ever visited a neighbourhood -in any city- that in modern times better reflects its staggeringly diverse and tumultuous history. It is still home at once to crumbling, shabby buildings that are in dire need of a fresh coat of paint – and swanky bohemian lofts and apartments built in spectacular old mansions and colonial tenements. Both the less-than-affluent and working classes (who have been here for generations) along and relatively well-to-do expats (who are entranced by its character and history) call this area home. We saw young and old alike meandering the sidewalks and sitting in cafes. It has some of the best art in the city – home to a fabulous Museum of Modern Art that we visited, and buildings decorated in the city’s trademark Filetado Porteño – and many energetic artist co-ops and workshops. On the other hand, it has some of the worst art in the city – in the form of tacky souvenir shops and overpriced antique stores.

It also has a lovely market that we stepped into (where, according to our guide, the best coffee in Buenos Aires can be found), where you can buy both dinner (fresh vegetables, fruits and meat) and some lovely antiques. The wrought iron Belle Epoque architecture of this indoor marketplace was incredible, and there were many good examples of the Filetado Porteño – a graphic style that characterizes signs and store windows, invented in the neighbourhood around the early 20th century. Rick, with his excellent artistic eye, taught us how to identify “good” specimens of Filetado Porteño.

The city has had to cope with a dark recent history, and that mark has also been left on the neighbourhood. We walked under a highway overpass, where the excavation of a former prison used in the 1970s is currently underway. Small signs underneath this highway explain the building and what it was used for. Humbling, to say the least. It’s easy to get swept up by the present-day bohemian vibe of the neighbourhood and forget what happened not that long ago.

It’s worth mentioning that you have to be careful in this neighbourhood: Rick mentioned to us that it is not unheard of for a camera to be snatched out of your hand as you walk around snapping pictures of the incredible views. Pickpocketing and muggings do happen, and he told us he wouldn’t recommend that a woman walk around alone in the area even during the day. This is in contrast to the reasonably (for a large city) safer neighbourhoods in Buenos Aires, such as Recoleta, Palermo, and even downtown. In other words, tourists might be led into a false sense of security elsewhere in the city and forget to take some common-sense precautions when visiting San Telmo.

One modern-day development in the neighbourhood is its street art. The (sanctioned) “graffiti” art is practically an institution throughout the city, especially in neighbourhoods like San Telmo that pride themselves in having an artistic vibe, and this neighbourhood had its own characteristic works of street art and artists that frequent the area (which I will elaborate on a bit more in next week’s post).

My favourite overall experience in the neighbourhood was walking past the sleepy cafes and parks once frequented by literary and artistic greats such as Jorge Luis Borges, and seeing the legendary Tango halls of the neighbourhood. These were the places that most felt like we had briefly stepped back in time. I could easily imagine a writer, poet and artist meeting up for an afternoon stroll in the park designed by the Argentine-French architect Charles Thays. It was not a stretch to picture a scene right out of a French impressionist painting playing out in this historic urban setting.

Our walk ended in early evening, when a dark grey thunderstorm cloud rolled in to give us some respite from the afternoon heat. We retired to an Irish pub frequented by expats. In the spirit of the neighbourhood and like the thinkers and artist who have haunted the streets of San Telmo for decades, Rick, some of his friends and my husband and I enjoyed some happy hour specials in the energetic little pub while comparing photos of the city and its art on our iDevices, pondering and reflecting upon the day – and expat life in South America in general – as rain and thunder pounded the cobblestone streets outside.

For more information on Rick’s San Telmo Art Walk, you can visit his website.

Exploring Córdoba, Argentina

Oct30

Last week, my husband and I needed an escape. Quite simply, Chile is not our home and therefore like a good friend or relative that you have been spending far too much time with lately, sometimes you need to a bit of distance to recover.

Not ready to go back into the glorious madness that is Buenos Aires, and after learning that Peru – despite being close by – would require multiple flights, multiple days to acclimatize, tour guides and possibly elevation sickness, we opted for something simpler. We decided we wanted a few things: green trees, coffee (for me) and meat (for my husband), and some pretty things to look at. So, we hopped on a plane to Santiago, and after another quick 40 minute jaunt by air across the Andes mountains, we found ourselves amongst the glorious spring green landscape of Córdoba, Argentina – and in a city that met all of our needs for an escape.

Córdoba is quite literally in the middle of Argentina – and the middle of South America, for that matter. Nestled next to the foothills of the Sierra Chicas mountains, Córdoba is also a really, really old city. It was founded in 1573 and its first map dates back to 1577, and a lot of the architecture we saw in Córdoba had actually once appeared on that map. The Universidad nacional de Cordoba is the earliest university in Argentina, founded in 1613 by Jesuits, and I would also hazard to guess, probably one of the first universities in any of the Americas.

The remnants of this early settlement can still be seen in the downtown Jesuit block (Manzana Jesuítica), designated as a UNESCO World Heritage site. These Spanish colonial buildings are extremely well preserved and maintained and still are very functioning parts of the city landscape. They still house some university buildings, a secondary school, an order of nuns, and more. The residents of Córdoba use the cathedrals, stopping in to pray and to worship. It is truly a treasure when parts of a city that are so old are still so functional and integral to the everyday life of its residents.

Over the years, Córdoba has been an important center of the agricultural industry in Argentina (it is, after all, surrounded by tons of beautiful, rich soil), the meat industry, and later in the 20th century, it became a hub for the auto industry. Naturally, we sought out steak and were not disappointed. A restaurant called Alcorta served us a perfectly cooked steak with delicious potatoes con crema and roasted vegetables as a side. We enjoyed this all with a bottle of Argentina’s trademark red wine, Malbec, of course… and went back again another night for seconds.

We spent the better part of the four days we were there just walking. The city has a very pedestrian friendly center, with endless shops, plazas and malls. This expansive pedestrian area, with its historic Spanish colonial and trademark “French meets Italian meets Spanish colonial meets eclectic” Argentinean architecture, is also very functional – every day we saw tons of locals shopping and eating gelato in this area. The pedestrian area was almost completely shaded thanks to archways draped with soft green plants, and the sidewalks with marble accents gave it a lovely feel. This area though old and worn around its edges, is still charming, reasonably well maintained and very functional with tons of shops and very cute, affordable made-in-Argentina fashion boutiques and lovely, lovely leather shoes (that were actually too nice for me to buy – I have no where to wear them!). It was a pleasure to walk around there and people watch (I loved watching the women walking around in their impractical and highly fashionable footwear).

When we first arrived in Córdoba, it was a Sunday night so after checking into our hotel (with its well-maintained historical Spanish Colonial features and art gallery featuring local artists) we went to the city’s famous arts fair. There were endless booths selling very high quality art, glassware, jewelry, pottery and other decorations for the home. I loved the fused glass lamps and the handmade lanterns, although unfortunately those would have been impossible for me to get back in one piece in my luggage. I also loved all of the flowers, plants and handmade flower pots being sold (and bought by the locals), although again those would have been impractical to bring home. Instead, my husband bought me a beautiful pair of handmade glass earrings and I picked up a small mug and salt and pepper shakers made by a talented young potter. The eclectic atmosphere was really fun.

The rest of the days we walked, ate, had a coffee break in the afternoons, ate some more, walked some more… we loved ducking into all of the baroque cathedrals and exploring the endless little shopping malls tucked away in the downtown. I am saving some of my pictures of cathedrals for a future post. We also visited the town of Alta Gracia, just outside of Córdoba, and soaked in the lush green springtime countryside… which I am looking forward to sharing with you in next week’s post!

Overall, it is such a treat to find a city like Córdoba, a functional, “real” city – hardly a tourist in sight – and a place that truly makes use of and embraces its historical features in its day to day life. Needless to say, it was a very well appreciated escape from our everyday life.

Describing the Tastes of Chile

Oct16

Limón de pica pie (pica lime pie) – like a key lime pie – one of my favourite treats.

I dealt with a bit of “blogging writers’ block” last week which is why I didn’t quite get a post together as usual last Friday. I had a few frustrating things happen, including the inability to get my hands on a book I need for my master’s research and some unexpected dinner guests, that took me away from the blogging world. But, everything has been solved, thanks to an acquaintance of a friend who can bring me the book I need and dinner guests who came, enjoyed my American barbecue-style chicken sandwiches, and left.

Anyways, speaking of food, during my writers’ block I turned to Twitter and asked what you want me to blog about. As it turns out, I have not been blogging enough about food!

You might remember a year ago when I was incredibly frustrated by the lack of spices, familiar ingredients and apple varieties available on the supermarket shelves. (Hey, I am from an apple-growing region… I miss the 100 varieties of apples we have there every fall.) Even though groceries have not changed much in Chile in a year, I certainly have. I have grown very accustomed to the ingredients available here; indeed, I enjoy many of them. I love that we get delicious avocados year-round, and wonderful, fresh, ripe mangoes for months – the likes of which we would never see in North America, where mangoes that have travelled long distances simply taste like a pine tree, instead of the sweet, peach-like flavour they have when freshly delivered down here from nearby Brasil.

Mangoes! This was taken in June, when they were in season.

I also am able to get my hands on enough things to make the foods I like: black beans and creamy cheeses for Mexican-style quesadillas, homemade pizza dough with portabella mushrooms and chorizo, imported chickpeas from Canada (!) for homemade hummus, steak and potatoes for my husband. (Filet mignon is surprisingly affordable here – yes, still pricey enough to merit reserving for an occasional treat, but affordable nonetheless – and I made it once using a recipe from Food Network’s Giada de Laurentis, which I later Tweeted about how much I liked and she replied to me personally, which I loved.)

Anyways, the thing is – the bad thing is, for the purposes of this blog – I have been cooking similar foods (just using local ingredients) that I might at home, which has meant I have tried fewer Chilean foods than I might have if, say, I had a Chilean mother or chef living with and cooking for me. So, I am hardly an expert.

Still, between dining out, dining at friends’ houses and simply talking to other people, I have pieced together a little knowledge of what is commonly consumed in this region. Cooking is, of course, a regional thing, and near the ocean shrimp and mussels are used in a lot of dishes. In fact, you can order steak or chicken at many restaurants with cream sauces that have little baby shrimps and mussels mixed in. Meanwhile, further inland, like near San Pedro, the cooking has more Andean influences, such as the use of grains like quinoa.

And, to my knowledge, there are not really celebrity chefs here of the likes of Jamie Oliver, Paula Deen or my favourite Tweeting chef, Giada, so I can’t direct you to a Chilean cooking show. (If I have any Chilean readers, I’d love to know if there’s a good Chilean chef somewhere out there? I think most Chileans would say their mother or grandmother is the best!)

We got this in a restaurant once. I can’t even really describe it… I suppose it’s like a Chilean poutine? It had French fries topped with chorizo, chicken, beef, and runny eggs that had been fried on one side. Not a health food.

I can’t really generalize the cuisine of a whole country. Chile is long, remember! And it’s like trying to sum up the food of the U.S.: how would you possibly generalize what New Yorkers, Californians, Texans and Michiganders eat in a day? Nonetheless, as per your request, I will attempt to. Also, I recommend Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations episode on Chile from a few years ago, which I think was quite representative of a number of common foods in the country.

If I had to describe the food typically consumed in a day around here, I would say that northern Chileans start the day with a sandwich or some bread and jam, yogurt, fruit, tea and fruit juice. Then, they have their largest meal of the day between 1-3pm. This might consist of meat, rice, potatoes, a type of bread that is round and white and looks a bit like a hockey puck, and maybe a boiled vegetable like cauliflower. Here in Antofagasta, they might eat ceviche, which is slices of raw fish marinated in lime juice, or a seafood soup, which consists of a simple broth, some shrimp, mussels, squid, and cilantro. This can be commonly found downtown Antofagasta near the mercado or fish market, which are packed at lunchtime. Salad doesn’t seem as popular as it is in North America, and is definitely not what we know as salad: the only time I have been served salad by a Chilean, it was lettuce with a bit of lime juice and canola oil on top.

Next, there might be a snack around 5 or 6pm, although I don’t think this is too common. Sometimes, I observe couples or tables of friends enjoying a coffee or tea and a slice of pie or cake at this time, a habit that feels reminiscent of another era. Dinner is served at 10pm or so, and is usually light, consisting of something as simple as a sandwich – or, since we are in the era of fast food, a hamburger or hot dog or a choripan (chorizo in a hot dog bun).

Happy hour at bars usually runs from 9pm-midnight, as the nightclubs (or so I have been told, I’ve never actually been to one!) don’t get going until well after midnight!

Chilean empanada

Over the past year (and after numerous complaints), my friends and family back home still seem surprised that my favourite coffees and spicy foods are hard to find, despite the fact that some of the best coffee in the world is grown in neighbouring Peru. Several Chileans have told me they like the taste of their food without spices, confirming what I discovered on my own: case in point, one woman told me recently she can’t even stand the taste of a little cinnamon in something. Black pepper is rarely found on tables at restaurants.

And, again, coffee is simply…not that popular. Still. There is no culture around it – as hard as those of us in the northern hemisphere find it to believe. Although that might change in only a few years: I see tons of young Chileans lined up at Starbucks and Dunkin’ Donuts whenever I am in the Santiago airport, and there are coffee shops in grocery stores just like the Starbucks that seemed to creep into many grocery stores in the U.S. in recent years.

Hope you’ve enjoyed this culinary “journey.” Next week, I will describe three of my favourite Chilean dishes – including recipes!

Reflections on Language

Oct5

My language experiences

Learning a third language has been an interesting experience, and far more fun than learning a second. I suppose Spanish could be considered my fourth language, if you count the Italian that I studied for 2 1/2 years in university, which I don’t because I never ended up applying it in a practical setting (still waiting for the day when I can, preferably whilst sipping cappuccino in some charming Italian piazza)!

I began learning French in 10th grade. I flew through four years worth of high school French in three with the help of an excellent teacher at my public school, and then struggled through two more intense and full years of French in university. My university was in Montreal, which I believe led them to take a no-nonsense approach to the language and I had to learn tenses and obscure grammar rules that I still haven’t used. I was also taking classes with students who had been taking French since grade one. Needless to say, when I actually learned useful French – that elevated me to an advanced, relatively fluent, speaker of the language – it was during experience working in an office somewhere in the Eastern Townships of Quebec with other francophone colleagues. French has been a rocky road. I am still, by Quebec standards, not nearly perfect in the language, but my mind processes the language fluently and with ease and I’ve learned all of the quirks and nuances of the Quebec version of the language in particular.

Anyways, Spanish has been a different experience than French. First of all, I’m not afraid of making mistakes in Spanish like I was when I was learning French (and thought every word I said had to be perfect). It doesn’t hurt that Latin American Spanish speakers have been more forgiving and easygoing on my non-native Spanish skills. (Gracias!) My mind also processes Spanish differently. Most second language learners struggle with the language and “translate” the language to and from their native language in their mind, which can result in clumsy and inefficient formations of the language. Since learning French somehow taught me not to do that, I have likewise learned to “compartmentalize” Spanish into its own place in my mind and I automatically tap into it whenever I need to use Spanish. Sometimes, switching between Spanish and English is so seamless that I forget whether the word or phrase was even in Spanish. It’s odd because I still can’t do that in French. Still, I am far, far, far from perfect in Spanish and could stand to do a few conjugation drills, but in general learning Spanish has been a rewarding experience.

Inside the portrait gallery of the Casa Rosada, Buenos Aires

Why culture isn’t only about language

I value learning languages, as I am sure you can tell. But I have to wonder sometimes if we don’t place too much emphasis on learning language over other things. I think that learning history, politics, and the “culture” of other parts of the world is just as valuable – if not more so – than learning the actual words or grammar of another language.

Now, I would never discourage travellers from learning a few key words or phrases at least when travelling. I also believe that travellers should never expect to be served or helped in English – even if visiting a country where most of the population speaks English, I find it impolite to have that attitude. With that said, though, I have been thinking about how at least in the U.S. it seems to me that too often we conflate languages with culture.

Sure, there are a lot of cultural nuances in languages and things to be aware of (take, for instance, formal language you would use to address your boss vs. informal language you’d use to address your friends or children, and culturally taboo words that exist in every language). But, I find that learning a language cannot necessarily also teach all about the culture of places.

When I think about my high school language classes in the U.S., my teachers were almost always also charged with the task of teaching about the culture of countries where the language was spoken. (Which they did admirably, but it was almost as though they were teaching two subjects in one.) In contrast, I almost never learned about the culture, politics or history of other countries in classes such as government, history, literature, art or geography… all areas that could easily encompass international themes and topics. And, school trips to other countries, at least at my school, tended to be organized by language teachers and language departments, not history or economics or literature departments.

Anyways, I am not here to critique school curriculum… I think American public schools are by and large quite commendable (at least mine was!). I’m just afraid that in the North American consciousness in general, we’ve come to blur the lines between knowing a language with knowing a culture.

Huh? We found this nonsensical t-shirt in a store recently. I think somewhere a t-shirt designer could have benefitted a quick language lesson!

Experiencing the world without words

This is especially interesting for me to think about, because some of the most profound cultural experiences I’ve had in Chile, Argentina, Brazil, Portugal, Quebec, and elsewhere were not because of or through the use of a specific language. Think about all of the other ways in which people communicate. Through art, through literature, through their use of spaces and places, at home and at the market. Religious practices. Food. You don’t have to know a language to appreciate those things. At least that’s been my experience. Seeing artwork, visiting homes, sitting in town squares and cathedrals, reading the news about political or economic events, watching people make food… all of this teaches me something, and language skills aren’t necessarily a pre-requisite to understanding any of those things.

So, yes, I would feel naïve moving to a country without language skills and certainly travelling with some language skills is important. But, I think that the single most important thing for appreciating culture is an open mind and keen sense of observation, and being very compassionate and in touch with other people, language skills or no language skills. I can drill conjugations all I want, but knowing a language didn’t teach me how to appreciate everything.

Travel: knowing everything / knowing nothing

Sep10

A sunny Sunday on the beach

Yes, I have been blogging from Chile for a little over a year now (give or take the few months I’ve spent in Canada). I was reminded of this when seeing the Fiestas Patrias – the Chilean national holiday on September 18th – decorations start to go up in grocery stores, apartments and homes around the city in the past week or so. I blogged about my first Fiestas Patrias last year – and watching the parades and celebrations last year was one of my first “real” Chilean cultural experiences. It is a rich holiday, with many dressing up in traditional costumes, dancing the cueca, or national dance, and eating, drinking, and generally being merry.

When I set out to blog about Chile, I expected this to be kind of like a fun “travel/living abroad” blog. Instead, as you may have noticed I have spent a fair amount of time reflecting simply on culture, language, human behaviour, even just the mechanics of travel (airports), etc. So, I suppose this has been more of a “culture and human behaviour” blog. Not exactly a blog about Chile… it just so happens I use northern Chile as an example quite often, owing to my circumstances!

The desert hills behind the city of Antofagasta

I sometimes cringe about what I wrote in my first posts. I have realized as the months go by that as a blogger I put myself in the position of essentially representing a part of the world that I don’t feel qualified to represent. I may have even written some things about my experiences that I regret, for a number of reasons. Through this blogging and experience abroad, I have formed stronger opinions about what the word travel means nowadays vs. what it maybe should mean. More than ever before, many of us in north America, Europe, and other countries have unprecedented access to so many parts of the world, and it seems like more people than ever before are seeking the next great travel adventure or living abroad experience. But, once abroad, like I mentioned in my previous post, often the magic of the new place wears off and when living abroad you just end up living life…only in a different setting.

As I’ve been planning a trip to Córdoba, Argentina next month (-yes! I look forward to blogging about another new location!), I’ve started to reflect on what’s problematic with travel especially travel for short durations of time. When you go someplace new for a very short time, you just get a glimpse and a little taste of a place. During such a short travel experience, I don’t feel like I can ever really know or understand it in much depth.

An (American style) football game at the beach in the bright evening sun

Does that mean you shouldn’t travel? Well, no, that’s not what I’m saying, either. I just try to keep in mind when planning trips nowadays that it’s impossible to really know a place just by travelling there for a week or two at a time. After all, I feel this way because even after many months I don’t think I know Chile or even northern Chile at all.

I know that Chileans celebrate their national holiday on September 18th. But as an outsider, I don’t really know what this holiday means to most Chileans. What are the social or historical implications of this holiday? Is it a day of great patriotism or just another day off to most? I could read about it, study it, observe it, but in the end all of that only gives me a limited idea as to what it’s all really about. In the broader scheme of things, the longer I am exposed to Chile – or I should specify, northern Chile – the more questions I have and the more I realize I don’t know and cannot understand about Chile at all. I have even at times been nervous and upset at the realization about how problematic it is for me to blog about this specific part of the world.

When we buy groceries this week and next, we get tickets to play games near the entrance to the grocery store in celebration of the Fiestas Patrias holiday

Okay, so negativity aside, that doesn’t mean that you can’t enjoy cultural experiences during a short trip. In Córdoba, I am planning to visiting museums, walking through the historic city centre and generally soaking up the atmosphere.

In fact, if you are someone who loves to travel and have “cultural adventures,” I don’t mean to throw you into a state of despair about travel. In fact, quite contradictory to my statement above, I have found that the more I am exposed to people who are not a part of my same cultural group – that is, Chileans instead of Americans and Canadians – the more I do learn about them, myself and even realize that at the end of the day we are all alike. Yes, that is an old cliché, but I think it is so true. It seems to me that everyone has the same hopes in life: people want everything from a stable life, to money and a good career, to good food on the table and time with friends and family, to owning a cool mobile phone and vacationing on a warm beach.

My spring flower “garden”!

This has become especially apparent as I have gotten to know a couple of Chileans here. It seems to me many Chileans are just as curious about North Americans as we (well, you – my readers – and I) are of them. For instance, here are some of the questions I am frequently asked as a North American(/semi-Canadian) by Chileans:

- What is the best city in the U.S.: Los Angeles, New York, or Miami? (I answer that I don’t know because I haven’t been to 2/3 of those cities except for their airports! I then recommend the lovely city of Chicago instead, near where I grew up…)

- Why do the Canadians look different than the Americans on South Park?

- Who are you voting for in November? What’s the difference between Democrats and Republicans? What was John F. Kennedy?

- When is the next iPhone/iPad coming out?

- What do Americans and Canadians think of Chileans?

- And the most common question: Do you like Chile?

For those of you who travel, what do you think? Do you agree that you can’t really know about a place if you’re not from there? Or can you essentially learn “everything” that is important to know? What questions are you most often asked when travelling abroad? How do you answer?

Another sunset photo!

Postcards from Amanda

A chronicle of travels in Chile, Canada and beyond | www.postcardsfromamanda.com

Tag Archives: culture