I'm still not quite at a state where I have fully processed my time in Chile, but I think I'm ready to share what I have managed to figure out thus far...

The adjustment back to my old life has proven to be rather difficult for me. I'm not sure how everyone else takes this transition, but I've found it to be a struggle. This is possibly because I went to a place where I could see myself actually living, and therefore felt more like I had permanently moved instead of simply "vacationed" --and I use that term very loosely. But either way, I've been fighting with myself to fit back into my old life. And admist the struggle, I'm continuously reminding myself that I'm not going to fit back into my life as I did before, since I have obviously changed, but that I simply need to find my new place here.

For one...I have found that the most difficult adjustment outside of the environment as a whole is getting used to the light switches. Now I know that sounds rather peculiar, but if you take a second and think about when you enter a dark room in your house, you'll see what I mean. I'm sure that you do the same as me: reach out your hand and automatically, your hand knows where that switch is and how it needs to be flipped. Well I used to be the same, but not since I've returned. For one, I can't seem to find the light switches at all. I swat blindly at the wall multiple times before I can even locate the switch. Then once I've located the switch, I find myself just smacking the wall, expecting to hit one of the chilean button switches, but every time, I painfully smack the switch and realize that it needs to be flipped and not pressed.

Aside from the light switches, I've noticed the difference in the way the toilets flush --another peculiar observation...I know. But the handles in Chile are either on top of the toilets or they are pulled up. Here --or at least at my parents' house-- you need to push down. I remember clearly the first time I flushed a toilet upon returning home, I was not only taken aback by the location of the handle, but I was startled by the lack of noise. Apparently Chilean toilets are much noisier and I simply never noticed...

A few other "homey" things have stood out to me, such as the smell of clean towels, the smell of my house as a whole --evergreen at christmas time-- the presence of actual, glass, christmas ornaments, more than one kind of cheese, and the obscene amount of christmas lights on the streets. But at the same time, I find myself turned off by a great number of things here as well, such as the flat and wasteful and far less attractive style of architecture, the lack of fresh fruit and vegetables, and the absence of the mountains...oh how I miss the Andes.

Another large adjustment has been one of the language. I still think in spanish, and have caught myself a number of times beginning to speak in spanish to someone who does not. I have also found it odd to be able to once again understand conversations taking place around me. Even after five months of being immersed in spanish, I am not able to understand side conversations in spanish very clearly. Upon arriving in Atlanta, I almost felt as if I was overwhelmed by the amount of information I was receiving as I walked through the airport. It's as if my mind has adjusted to only focusing on one conversation at a time, and to hear and understand more than one is above my current capacity of receptivity. This is already slowly shifting back to normal, but at times, I still find myself being overwhelmed and feeling as though I need to step out of a room in order to focus.

As far as attempting to make sense of my time out of the country, I've only come to one conclusion thus far. I remember when I left, I was intent on spending my time creating art and studying, but having returned, I realized that I really didn't create all that much art. And before my time in Chile, I would have been very disheartened by this fact, but now, looking back, I realize that the trip, for me, wasn't about my art; it was about me. It was about establishing myself as a person. My trip was about finding another life; finding a home outside of my own, outside of my comfort zone where I'm protected from all sides by someone or something familiar. I went to a foreign country, where I knew no one, barely spoke the language --or the native dialect at least-- and survived. And not only did I survive, I walked away with a new family.

I'm officially home...

I apologize for the lack of posts in my last two weeks, but without the internet at my apartment and the long list of things I wanted to do, I had very little spare time (not to mention I wasn't particularly keen on spending my last two weeks in starbucks). I didn't actually get around to doing a lot of the things on my list, but I'm surprisingly okay with that, because I spent my last week actually living in the city. I met new people, who I somehow still feel unimaginably close to even given the sort amount of time I was able to spend with thme, and I living like a citizen in the city. And all in all, I have to say that my last week, goodbyes inluded, was probably one of the better weeks of my entire stay. I was stress free, worry free, and simply living how and when I wanted --i suggest you try it. It does wonders. I'll try my best to post some pictures in the next couple of days, but for now here are some thoughts I had while in the Atlanta airport this morning.


I just got off my first flight from Santiago, Chile to Atlanta, Georgia, and I now find myself sitting in the airport, both dazed and fascinated. My first thoughts are something like what follows…

Christmas music playing, but not traditional music, the Nsync, Christina Aguilera, and Mariah Carey remixes. I saw an Atlanta Bread Company…wow does that sound good. When you bump into someone, they say excuse me; and not in Spanish. It’s now assumed that I speak English.

I was putting back on my shoes after passing through the security gate here in Atlanta when a girl next to me attempted to ask the security guard where she was supposed to next. But she didn’t speak English, and he didn’t speak Spanish. I smiled to myself, remembering how I felt when I was wandering aimlessly through the Santiago airport, and translated for them both.

I made a quick stop at the bathroom at both airports (I was waiting for about 8 hours in Santiago…) and thought nothing odd about the one in Santiago until I got here. I walked in and found a counter with sinks and mirrors and then a completely separate counter with just mirrors where women were re-touching their make-up and hair. I also found everything automatic from the toilets, to the sinks, to the soap, to the paper towel dispenser. I’ve also found that everyone here has been on their cell phone. Which oddly enough, I turned on my American cell phone for the first time in 6 months to find that I had voice mails, but couldn’t remember my password to access them…go figure.

As I sit here now, waiting for my flight, I find that I still don’t feel as though this journey has come to an end. I still have the feeling as though I’m going to be returning to my apartment in a few days or so to find Mark in his “hole,” Sarah lounging with her laptop, and Paula perched on the sofa armrest in front of the television, watching her telenovela. But I’m not. I had a moment on the plane when I thought about how I needed to call my parents when I got to Atlanta to tell them that I was in the United States again and it wasn’t until then that I seriously thought about the fact that I’ve been away from home for five months. I’ll admit, I got a bit misty. But in reality, I don’t think that it’s hit me yet. And with all of today’s technology, keeping in touch shouldn’t prove to be much of a problem. So all in all, I think I just don’t feel like I could or would ever lose contact with these people. How could I??? They’re my second family. I sometimes think I know them better than anyone else.

To sum up…seeing as how my laptop is about to die, I’m home –well almost. I’ve come home the same person, and yet completely different. I have no regrets, no unfulfilled wishes, and I’m as pleased with my time in Chile as I could have ever hoped to be. To all of my new friends and family…we’ll talk soon. I shall miss you all more than anyone could imagine.

R.I.P. Michelle

One for the History Books...

Wow...what a time to be in Chile. In case you hadn´t heard, Pinochet died this past sunday. And if you didn´t hear the news, you probably have no idea how chaotic it is here. I´m currently still in the process of educating myself on the ex-presidents history, so I´ll spare you a choppy history lesson for now and just tell you the current state of the country from my point of view.



I´m not sure if the news stations back home have any footage from the streets here, but if they´re showing what is on the all of the South American news channels, you´re probably looking at Escuela Militar, which is about a fifteen minute walk from my apartment. And if you happen to see the footage of the woman with the camoflouge pants, bashing in windows and doors, one of my friends was actually there watching her --before running away for fear of being the next victim of one of her vicious strikes.

And this is just the group that has gathered to see the body of Pinochet before he is moved to a secret location. If you go back to Sunday, there was a giant crowd --including yours truly --in front of the military hospital, to which he was taken very recently. The crowd was chanting amidst tears and hugs. I was astonished to see every age group well represented, from small children of about seven, chanting right along with their parents to grandparents screaming angrily that the flag should be lowered to half mast.

Once again...I say that this is not all. If you happened to be down in the Centro on Sunday (which a few of my friends were), you would have seen a completely different side to the matter. When the news broke, there were people driving around, honking and screaming in celebration. The streets were later filled with people popping open bottles of champagne and in some areas,destroying property and setting fires. I saw footage from Valpairiso (the city in which Pinochet was born and only about an hour from Santiago) and there were people stealing police vehicles and throwing bottles that caught fire to anything they touched.

Back in Santiago, there have been riots, and they still continue today. Water canons are used, police are out in full force, on horseback and on foot, with shields and full armor. As of last night, I heard that about 100 people had been detained and almost 40 policemen had been injured. Let´s just say that when this country protests or riots...they don´t hold back.

Well I must be off for now...but to put your mind at ease (mostly my mother´s) I´m not in danger, nor is anyone else. The dangerous riots are a ways away from my home, which is in a safe area. The only way one could get into trouble is if they went into the thick of things, looking for it. And while the thought of waiting in line all day yesterday to see Pinochet, decked out in his full military garb with his saber and chilean flag draped over his coffin, did cross my mind...I had an exam. So rest easy...the opportunity has passed. And I apologize for the lack of photographs, but I will try my best to put up some from the hospital as soon as I get a chance...

Oye...I'm really not even sure what to say. I've got two weeks left in the city and I'm already starting to miss it. This place offers you a generosity that you won't find anywhere else. When you're at the supermarket, searching for an avocado that isn't hard as a rock, someone will find one and offer it to you. When you're at a party on a rooftop with your arms folded, you're guaranteed to get at least three offers for the shirt of someone's back to keep you warm --even when you insist that you're not cold. If you're in class and someone has a sandwich, they'll offer it to you, no matter how hungry they might be.

Now I'm certainly not going back on my previous stance that American's are cold and everyone here is far more friendly, because yes, people here are generous, but if someone runs into you on the street, you will never hear them apologize or say "excuse me." And if you happen to say it to them, they'll give you a look like you've just turned pink and have purple spots all over your face. And yes, everyone makes it a point to kiss you on the cheek when they meet you, but more than half the time you won't get an introduction or a name or anything...just a kiss and a view of their back as they move onto the next person.

That having been said, I still am going to miss this city. I've gotten past the few things that bother me and am in love with those that do not. And I've come back full circle to the question I received when I first arrived, "Why Chile???" Well I can't really answer that with anything more than when I first arrived since my choice was based on what I knew before and not what I know now, but I can tell you know why I'm glad I chose Chile. And it's a list of little things that stand out to me now that I know I won't be able to experience them for much longer. Here's a list of some things I found myself writing down the other day:

The green, faceless men featured in the artwork of my apartment.

The stark gray, blue, and green colors of the University.

The prevalence of guacamole in my diet.

The fruit market with it's endless towers of fruits and veggies.

Saying goodmorning to the door man of my apartment as I leave for class.

The way the buildings on my street light up in shades of pink, silver, and orange at sunset.

The silver and black shoes of one of my classmates.

The way another classmate always wears green.

The smile and laugh I always get from one of my grad instructors.

The fact that I can't recognize any movies at blockbuster because all of the titles have been translated to something slightly different in spanish ie. Saw = Juegos de miedo --"games of fear" does NOT have anything to do with "saw"

Everything on the Disney Channel being in spanish.

The little woman in my "avocado shop."

Mark's x-rays hanging all over the apartment.

The mixture of fear and accomplishment that I felt as I crawled out onto the rock ontop of the highest point of Machu Picchu.


Oh sigh...leaving is going to be hard...although one thing I know I'm excited to get back is cheddar cheese!!! I don't believe I've mentioned this before, but this country only has one type of cheese and none of us really know what it is. It's some sort of swiss, mozzarella mix, and it's the only thing you can find in the supermarket. Weird for a country with such an expansive supply of wine.

Also...I forgot to mention last time that whilest wandering the streets, I managed to find a bit of the US down here in Chile :)