I only just dragged my sleepy, little behind out of bed about an hour ago, but I can already tell that the 10 hours of sleep did wonders. So here I am, with a yogurt and some toast, rejuvenated and ready for the day--or at least a shower, and then the day can come at me full force.

Last night, I went to my first official "asado", which is a more or less a barbecue. I went with my usual group of international friends at the invitation of a guy who made friends with Patty, one of the girls here from Georgia. We showed up at this unnaturally large and gorgeous house (in case I've failed to mention this before, the houses near the city here are on the smaller side, while the houses in the mountains are unnecessarily large and luxurious) to find that this particular asado was traditionally the "guys night out" sort of a gathering, and here we were, four girls and only one guy to add to the group. But we were made to feel right at home on the small outdoor patio while the guys took turns grilling hot dogs and pork throughout the night (the grill was running from about 10:30 to the time we left at 2:00). Drinks were shared --and by drinks, I mean multiple bottles of Pisco, the country's traditional liquor, and one lone bottle of beefeater gin (which made me think of Michael of course...) which the host was consuming at a surprising pace. I've discovered that the reason liquor here is so cheap, must be because of the amount people can consume. No glass went empty for longer than the time it took to reach for the ice bucket and the nearest bottle of Pisco.

With the scene set, you could guess that the night was filled with interesting conversations and plenty of laughter. A fraction of the guys spoke english, so when the few who couldn't were unable to clearly express their points, a yell was sent across the table to someone who could translate. It was a great night to practice my spanish, and a great night to interrogate the guys about their culture.

One comment in particular stood out to me above all the rest. Perhaps it's because I have heard it before, but it stood out to me when my friend Nico, a Chilean native who I met through an odd family connection, said the same thing only a few weeks prior. "Americans are so cold." Now I know that for them, the comment was a generaliztion and not meant to be directed toward me in particular, but I'm still taken aback by it. I have always considered myself to be a very open and warm person, and I find my friends to be the same, so hearing this is a complete shock. But after thinking twice, I realized that in comparison to the Chilean culture, we North Americans really are cold. Now I'm not saying everyone, because I still consider the majority of my friends to be as inviting as one could get, but a lot of people really are. Here, people get together with their entire family --grandparents, aunts, uncles, couzens and all-- at least once a week and with their close friends multiple more times. So people here consider "cold" to be when you don't spend at the very least two and three days a week with your friends and family and greet everyone you know, and even those you don't with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Now I'm sure that the kiss and hug greeting isn't what's keeping us from leaving the cold label behind in a cloud of dust, but when you think about our country and how an average 25 to 45 year old spends their time, very little of it is with their family or with their friends unless their friends happen to share the same employer. But here, they spend every last free minute with their family and friends. To them, that's what comes first. I think we could learn a thing or two from this small, southern country...