La RAJA

Ay caramba, where do I start?! The past few weeks have been pretty kerrrrazy and my memory's just a little bit haaazy...

It all began a couple of fridays ago, with a scrumptious Diwali dinner in the Majestic Hotel's fancy Indian restaurant - wow, curry has never tasted so good after such a lengthy absence from my taste buds. After stuffing ourselves til bursting point, we bundled into a taxi and headed to the buzzing Bellavista neighbourhood for some jaaazzzz. Now, I know what you're thinking - sounds more zzzzzz than jaaaa. In fact, the musicians were not only mega talented, but also well entertaining; at one point there was even some sexual tension between the trompetist and the trombonist! The only bad point came when they charged everyone an entrance fee with the bill instead of before we actually went in - cheeky bastardos.

The following week was just one thing after the next: a Rapture gig, indie clubbing, happy hour caipirinhas, a good ol' fashioned Chilean BBQ, a bizarre drag show, ice creams in the park, a big night out with the "cool kids"... suffice to say a big chunk of my student loan has most likely disappeared and my sleeping pattern still hasn't really recovered.

Things at uni have been a productive as ever - now that one teacher I was "assisting" has pissed off to Spain to do her PhD I have even less work to do, although there do seem to be a lot more students coming to ask me for help - it's good to feel useful every now and then, even if I am a lazy mofo. There have been no riots to speak of for aaages now, but there have been noise bombs and a crazy lady in leopard-skin walking around with a siren attached to a megaphone... I tell ya, this ain't just any old university.

Lo que pasó, pasó...

Maaan, it's hot hot HAWT in Santiago and it's not even the height of summer yet! My flat is slowly turning into an oven - there is a price to pay for the beautiful views provided by floor-to-ceiling windows on the top floor, apparently - and my feet are a lovely shade of pink. Why is it that you always forget to put sun cream on one body part?!

I cannae complain though; this weekend I went to Pichilemu, a coastal town that is part wild wild west, part surfer's paradise. It was wicked to get out of the city for a couple of days, even if it was just a wee bit windier than we expected. Arriving there at midnight after an eventful 4-hour bus journey, which included over-affectionate couples and a singing drunkard standing over me in the aisle, we headed straight out and stumbled on a buenissimo Mexican bar with Simpsons characters spray-painted on the walls and a pool table with balls that just wouldn't stay put. Crazily enough, we ended up in a club playing bangin reggaeton choons and, well... you know the rest.

One of the more surreal moments of my time here so far happened two fridays ago: while celebrating one of the second-years' birthdays with some drinks on the grass near the English department, the whole group suddenly burst into the Spice Girls classic "Wannabe". Shockingly, hearing a dozen chileans singing said girl power anthem didn't exactly fail to make me laugh. A lot. I've also been been getting to know the "cool kids", a great bunch of fourth-year students who are all really "buena onda" i.e. fun to hang out with. They took me out for Halloween, which isn't anywhere near as big here as it is in Blighty (I saw one devil-woman and that was it!). Although it was "diva night", we mainly opted to skip the drag show and get our groove on in the electronica room til 5am.

So yeah, life in Chiiile continues. I haven't exactly been following the arduous gym routine the self-satisfied personal trainer set out for me, and neither have I actually made it to any English Lit. classes or saved the streetkids. I am definitely feeling a lot more settled though, and that is reason to be cheerful, even if I am slowly turning into an avocado...

Aaaaaachew!

Despite being more than just a little sniffly, I braved the sunshine last week and signed up to el gymo. When they told me to come in for an "evaluación", I feared the worst. And guess what? I was right to. After waiting around for like half an hour, a smug fitness freak called Fernando called me into a cramped office. He weighed me, and then proceeded to get out a small, pinching contraption to measure my body fat percentage - uh oh. The humiliation didn't end there: after a 10-minute warm-up on the cross-trainer, he took me on a circuit of the weights machines where I used muscles I didn't even know existed. Ohhh, the pain. I might just skip the next one...

In other news, on Friday I went to a proper aufentic Chilean concert that was held in the open air at the Universidad de Chile's engineering campus. It was basically a massive street party full of drunkards and tropical muzak. After a few beers, I attempted to dance latino-style i.e. actually move my hips in a slightly rhythmic way. The results were less than pretty, but I sure had fun trying.

On Sunday, a group including meself, my American ex-flatmate Julie, her Swedish friend, plus three chileans and two other brits (oh how very international) went off to a stunning canyon a few hours from the city called Cajon del Maipo. Although some of us hadn't exactly come prepared for the conditions - normal trainers + a scrambly start x a fair bit of snow = duuuh - it was definitely worth it; the views were increíble and we even got a peek at a real-life glacier. The insanely bumpy bus ride there and back was quite the thrill ride - at a certain point it felt like we were going to bounce right off the hill. As I always say, tis all part of the Sarrrf American experience innit.

...Of soaps, stalkers and strange hostels...

Lola is a new "teleserie" that began a few weeks ago and it has a fantastically barmy central gimmick: the titular character is actually a man who has been transformed into a woman by a weird old witch after he seriously pissed off a one night stand by promising her the world and then failing to return any of her calls. If that sounds convoluted, fear ye not - it's just the tip of a very farcical iceberg. The soaps here might not be quite as trashy as those from Mexico/Brasil, but they are just as dramatic; each climactic moment is preceeded by a "duh-duh-duh-duh-duh!" sequence of stabbing strings. What can I say, I'm hooked.

Back in the real world, I have followed through with me plan to increase my presence at uni, and rewards have been reaped. I now assist with a couple more classes in which the teachers are actually glad to have me as a native-speaker-resource, I've hung out with the students more and my first office hour was a success! On the other hand, I do seem to have gained a semi-stalker girl: the first years warned me she was a "gringo-eater" and a few times now she's appeared out of nowhere and started blatantly flirting with yours truly... uh oh.

Yesterday, my flatmate Julie and I decided to head off to Valparaiso, a bohemian and colourfully chaotic coastal city a couple of hours from Santiago. We enjoyed an unexpectedly fancy lunch with beautifully presented tapas on arriving there, and proceeded to wander around and explore the characteristic hills filled with zig-zagging streets and mucho graffiti art; this included riding on the famous wooden lifts, creaky contraptions that don't feel entirely safe, but have contributed to the city being named a UNESCO World Heritage site as they are apparently in danger of disappearing - I wonder why that might be?!

I was originally planning to stay the night, but felt the beginnings of a cold coming on and so decided to make it a day trip instead. Fate, however, had other things in mind; after hanging out in a dimly-lit bar for a while where the music policy seemed to consist solely of cheesy 80s ballads, we headed to the bus station only to be informed that the last bus for the capital had left half an hour earlier - demonios! We ended up being lead to a hostel by a woman we encountered there, who promised us a cheap room with a private bathroom. What we got was bug-ridden bed sheets and mysterious voices/noises throughout the night! Ah well, at least none of us got bitten...

¿Me estas huevoneando?

There is nothing quite like the taste of freshly-brewed Chilean bureaucracy. I have paid two visits to the central police station, three to my local civil registry, waited in queues for hours... and I still don't have my ID card. The British Council told me that the phrase "patience is a virtue" would be the understatement of the century out here, but ay caramba - this is just taking the piss. Even yesterday, when I went to change my flight, I had to wait around for an hour as apparently there were problems with "el sistema" and my card. Oh, and did I forget to mention that my university might not be able to pay me? D'oh!

Aside from that, I seem to have oodles of free time. My timetable consists of barely more than 10 hours per week, all from Monday to Wednesday. Yes, that means I have four-day weekends. Also, some of the teachers I've been assigned to appear less than overjoyed to have a native speaker assisting them - several times I've been told that I'm not "needed". So, I've decided to pester other teachers and have my very own office hours so that any students needing help can find me easily. That, and join a gym/sit in on english lit & spanish classes/do some voluntary work/save the children/rainforest. Not necessarily in that order.

Last weekend, I was invited to a Chilean "carrete" (a word that can mean many things - party/shindig/outing, in this case it was a flatwarming). This involved yum food, mucho banter with plenty of slang or "chilenismos" thrown in - half the time I didn't know exactly what I was laughing at but hey, it was hilarious! - and an extremely tuneful (ahem) karaoke session. We sang our hearts out to the Beatles, Aerosmith and some mega-popular Argentinian rock band called Soda Stereo, who I slurred along to despite not having a clue how the song went. A place on Latin American Idol surely beckons...

Holidaaaay!

Wow, I feel knackered. A week of travelling in the north staying in a different hostel every night is to blame, but what a week it was. Jessiquita and myself did make quite the rookie error though - staying out until 4am the night before a looong 7-hour bus journey is never a good idea.

Like the true intrepid travellers/fools that we are, we didn't book anything for the first night and so ended up staying in a cold, pokey motel-like institution with, according to our guidebook "the best breakfast in La Serena". It did include pancakes, so yum, although Jess was less than impressed by the homemade cherry jam that reminded her of rotting fruit.

The following five days were spent in pursuit of some truly authentic Chilean experiences: going to a "pampilla", a big festival-type-effort, on the day celebrating Chile's independence from Spain, which had a real-life rodeo(!); hanging out in a rocker bar and being informed by a creepy old man in broken English that we were a "nice group" and that he felt... "niiiiiiice"; seeing the night sky through a big telescope contraption at an astronomical observatory - the mooooon was well impressive; going on a tour of a distillery specialising in Pisco, the country's national tipple, a grape brandy that gives you a pretty harsh hangover.

Also, we met some cranky llamas and got surrounded by a gang of snarling stray dogs (they're everywhere here), so I'm not really feeling the love from the animal kingdom right now.

The cycle was completed by a drinking-game fuelled final night, leading to some typically mental moves from yours truly on the dancefloor of a reggaeton club. All together now: "...a ella le gusta la gasolina, dame mas gasolina!".

...and the riots continue.

Working at one of the most left-wing-educational-institutions-with-communist-affiliations in Santiago certainly makes life interesting. The first set of protests I wrote about took place around Chilean Labour Day, whereas this week they have been "practising" for September 11th; no, it's nothing to do with the 9/11 terrorist attacks, but instead marks the 1973 military coup, which signalled the end of Salvador Allende's socialist government and the beginning of Augusto Pinochet's tyrannical dictatorship.

Different motives, same methods; three times now I've had to rush towards the back entrance with a tissue covering my nose while masked protesters and police engage in an explosively symbolic confrontation. There's no need to fear though - the students are well-versed in dealing with such madness and have taken good care of me. A useful tip when dealing with tear gas: suck on a lemon, it will never have tasted so good.

Riots aside, I have had to contend with the city's chaotic transport system while manically searching for somewhere more permanent to live. I swear I will never complain about overcrowding on the tube again; changing lines on the Santiago metro with what seemed a like a thousand-odd others was a whole other experience. Thankfully, I've managed to find myself a lovely flat with mountain views and cable TV! Roll on amazingly over-the-top South American soap operas.

As for the work, it looks like I will mainly be assisting the teachers by acting as a human dictionary/sharing my uniquely "British" views on life - sounds well challenging don't it. I will also be expected to run a kind of "cultural program" on Wednesdays i.e. show films, play music and the like. Any other ideas would be very much appreciated. Did I mention I now have two weeks holiday? It's a hard life...

Riot!

The adventure begins...

I've been in Santiago almost a week now and, as the cliche goes, it's been a rollercoaster so far. Even before I got here, I had to contend with the absolute uselessness of airline companies - to cut a long story short, BA messed up which meant I had to stay the night in Madrid on my way over. On the plus side, it was in "the biggest hotel in Europe", an enormous 4* establishment with massive buffets included.

Arriving in a chilly Chile (yeah, I know - but it really was cold i tell thee!) at 7:30am on Tuesday morning, I was taken directly to the university I'm going to be working at and immediately proceeded to meet plenty of new faces - I was even thrust into an informal "getting to know you" session with some of the first years in which I had to explain the concept of "jet lag", something I knew just a little bit about at the time!

Due to another organisation messing up (this time the British Council), I had to stay the first few nights at an all-male Catholic residence across the road where I had a 9:30pm curfew - oh joy. Everyone was uber friendly though, and I'm now staying with one of the teachers while I look for a flat. First impressions of Santiago: sprawling, smoggy & just a bit chaotic, but with plenty of cool neighbourhoods, manic nightlife and the impressive snow-capped Andes overlooking it all.

I could probably write a whole lot more, but I don't want to send you to the land of nod quite yet. Just a little something to leave you with though: on my second and third day here, I experienced the joys of student riots (thankfully from within the confines of the English Department) - molotov cocktails were thrown, tear gas was deployed and classes were suspended, apparently just another day in the life of a santiaguino.

The reception building of the Uni