There was this Chilean singer who wrote and sang beautiful, evocative songs about peace, poverty and social justice. His name was Victor Jara and although he was murdered on September 15, 1973, his music and songs continue to be heard not only in Chile, but around the world.
One of his most haunting is the instrumental song "La partida," or "The departure," which has been covered by artists from as far away as Scotland and France to as near as most Latin American countries (and in genres ranging from folk to... heavy metal).
Nicholas, my son, has been learning this song on the xylophone as part of music class in school. I will try to post his version in this blog later today. In the meantinme, here is Victor Jara's version:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gw1mju8VsPc&feature=related
I'm thinking of this song because today is our departure, from Chile, after three amazing months.
It's a strange feeling, to be leaving our life here. At the same time, it will be wonderful to be back at... home. Yes, although I was born here, Canada definitely is my home.
As we're packing, cleaning and wrapping up last minute details in Santiago, before our 6:30 p.m. flight tonight, I don't have much time to post.
Tomorrow, however, I will talk about all the things we all learned down here, and what we will all miss the most.
See you soon!
p.s. Here is some backround on Victor Jara:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Victor_Jara
And another (more rousing) version of the same song, by the Chilean folk group Inti-Illimani:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s2Z6jtNtGME
Friday, April 30, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Taking our lives in our hands.... (Part 2)
The day of the game, April 25, began with a lot of excitement and anticipation (and, yes, I confess -- some fear, on my part).
In sticking with our "stay safe" strategy, however, we planned to leave for Monumental Stadium -- about 45 minutes away -- at around 1:45 since the game was scheduled for 3:30. At around 12:30 however we began hearing crowds of fans chanting as they moved through the streets and on their way to the game, so at 1 p.m. we headed for the metro ourselves.
Our first indication this was obviously no insignificant match came at the metro station itself, where dozens of police officers were already monitoring the crowds:
When the train arrived, it was already full (uncommon for a Sunday), but we managed to squeeze in one of cars. A crowd of about a dozen young men aged from about 14 to late 20s, were chanting for Colo-Colo. They also jumped every few minutes, bouncing the metro car up and down as it moved through the tracks. I worried momentarily about what this could do to the moving train, but, the metro just moved along.
At our destination, we made our way out of the metro station and towards the stadium with hundreds of others. Lots of police, some in full riot gear, met us at every step:
After being searched at the door, we were finally in the stadium which was already half full, before 2 p.m. We then discovered this was Colo-Colo's stadium and as such, most of its seating was assigned to fans of this team (the white and black). The U de Chile (the blue and red) had been given a tiny cheering section, across from where we were:
In sticking with our "stay safe" strategy, however, we planned to leave for Monumental Stadium -- about 45 minutes away -- at around 1:45 since the game was scheduled for 3:30. At around 12:30 however we began hearing crowds of fans chanting as they moved through the streets and on their way to the game, so at 1 p.m. we headed for the metro ourselves.
Our first indication this was obviously no insignificant match came at the metro station itself, where dozens of police officers were already monitoring the crowds:
At our destination, we made our way out of the metro station and towards the stadium with hundreds of others. Lots of police, some in full riot gear, met us at every step:
Feeling safe, the kids donned their Colo-Colo gear:
The stadium soon filled with chanting, cheering fans, and the game began, with police first escorting the U de Chile players and the referees out onto the field:
It took a while for a team to score, but when one of Colo-Colo's star players, Argentinian Ezequiel Miralles, scored that first (and turns out, only) goal of the game, the crowd went wild(er):
Other than a lot chanting, taunting and swearing, the game's first period went without a hitch, even when Miralles was thrown out of the game, in the 38th minute of play, for apparently trying to injure a blue and red player:
Trouble actually started at the half time intermission, when fans in a section to our left, began throwing rocks at the riot police, and police responded in kind. At the time, Fernando and Nick had gone to get drinks and snacks so they got a good view of what was going on (safely, from the other side of a fence).
We learned hours later, through the news, that what had caused the minor riot was the death, a couple of hours earlier, of a Colo-Colo fan on his way to the game. The papers reported that the fan -- a 33-year-old man -- got in front of, and started taunting, one of the water-throwing trucks brought to the game (and often used to disperse rioting crowds). Apparently, the fan had slipped and fallen in front of the truck, which had then been unable to stop and had ran him over. We actually got a picture of one such truck, on our way to the stadium:
We also learned later that 19 people had been arrested during the stadium skirmish with the police.
Unable to join Carmen and me at our seats after the intermission, Fernando and Nick watched most of the score-less second period from the snack bar area. Since we'd agreed to leave 15 minutes before the game ended, Carmen and I made our way out of the stands and joined them there.
Only a handful of others were leaving at that time, but as Fernando had predicted, although the trains were running, the actual metro stations close to the stadium had shut their doors so you could not get on the subway.
As planned, we walked to a main intersection and hauled a taxi, which hesitated for a second to pick us up. I guess the driver figured if we had kids, we weren't going to trash his vehicle. Half an hour later, we were safely back at our apartment, still pumped from the excitement of the game, and happy that we'd made it home alright, after all.
Fernando, however, had a confession to make. He is actually a fan of... U de Chile!, and while the kids and I had been cheering our hearts out for the white and black, he'd been secretly clapping for the blue and red and was disappointed they'd not played better.
"Oh, the sacrifices you have to make....." he deadpanned.
Here are some more pics of the game:
Yes, there were other kids (and some women) at the game, but not many....
Carmen wearing her true colours.
Colo-Colo -- all the way!!
Also, here is some info on the two top-ranked Chilean teams:
And Universidad de Chile:
Monday, April 26, 2010
Taking our lives in our hands... (Part 1)
As you probably know, soccer is huge down here, and it's always been so. There's a story my parents brought me to a game when I was about two. In cheering for his favourite Chilean team, Audax Italiano, my dad would holler to the top of his lungs, wave his arms wildly around and jump for joy, like all the other young fathers at the soccer stadium then.
The story goes that until I started to cry and sputtered: "You have me all scared..!" my dad hadn't even realized my mom had handed me over to him, and I was sitting on his knee, throughout all this cheering.
In the ensuing 40+ years, soccer's popularity in Chile has not diminished one bit, but the games themselves have changed dramatically. Since being here, all we've heard about when it comes to soccer, centres on the hooliganism that now dominates the live games.
Just as it was in England years ago, it's now mainly bands of young men who go to the games and trash everything in sight -- before, during and after. Stories of violent fights between fans, rocks being thrown at the police, and tear gas being used to disperse the crowds are common. This is even more pronounced when two arch-enemy (and top-ranked) clubs face each other: Colo-Colo and Universidad de Chile.
Politics is also more predominant than ever in the sport. For example, Colo-Colo at some point changed from being the team of the working poor classes, to now representing the middle- and upper-classes. Meanwhile, U de Chile has become "los de abajo," or the lower-class underdogs. So clashes between these two teams (which happen only a few times each year) are both anticipated and feared.
One of the things my brother Fernando wanted to do while down here with us was to take Nicholas and Carmen... to a soccer game. Three years ago he'd been to a Colo-Colo vs. U de Chile game and although he's over six feet tall and has travelled the world, he said he'd felt very uneasy being part of a crowd of more than 40,000 people leaving the soccer stadium afterwards. So, the game he had in mind would not involve either of those teams, but two tamer (and bad) teams... like Audax against San Luis.
I should mention here that through his friends and involvement at school, Nicholas has become a rabid Colo-Colo fan. His grandpa -- who's now deathly afraid of setting foot in a soccer stadium, but will forever support any and all underdogs -- was not happy with this news and tried to dissuade him, by telling Nick that "only the worst of people" like Colo-Colo. However, if Nick insisted on being a fan, then, he should buy himself a knife, just so he could defend himself against attacks from other fans. ; )
A few days later, one of my dad's friends, Luis, gave Nick a large Colo-Colo flag as a gift (grandpa was once again not amused, but took it graciously by reminding Nick about the knife business). Then, my brother bought Nick a Colo-Colo shirt, which Nick was also thrilled with.
So, there we were, my brother and I, looking online for a tame soccer game, when we realized a huge match was coming up, on April 25 -- a "Superclasico." And which teams were involved? You got it: Colo-Colo against U de Chile. After much debate we decided that yeah, this was the game.
Since Fernando had previous experience, he had ideas on how to minimize the risks (arriving and leaving early, sitting near an exit, covering up any Colo-Colo paraphernalia until we were safely seated with other Colo-Colo fans, buying that knife after all....kidding!)
As for me, I just refused to believe that a family could no longer attend a soccer game in Chile, safely.
There just had to be a way....
(Here are Fernando and Nick, getting searched as they attempt to enter Monumental Stadium:)
The story goes that until I started to cry and sputtered: "You have me all scared..!" my dad hadn't even realized my mom had handed me over to him, and I was sitting on his knee, throughout all this cheering.
In the ensuing 40+ years, soccer's popularity in Chile has not diminished one bit, but the games themselves have changed dramatically. Since being here, all we've heard about when it comes to soccer, centres on the hooliganism that now dominates the live games.
Just as it was in England years ago, it's now mainly bands of young men who go to the games and trash everything in sight -- before, during and after. Stories of violent fights between fans, rocks being thrown at the police, and tear gas being used to disperse the crowds are common. This is even more pronounced when two arch-enemy (and top-ranked) clubs face each other: Colo-Colo and Universidad de Chile.
Politics is also more predominant than ever in the sport. For example, Colo-Colo at some point changed from being the team of the working poor classes, to now representing the middle- and upper-classes. Meanwhile, U de Chile has become "los de abajo," or the lower-class underdogs. So clashes between these two teams (which happen only a few times each year) are both anticipated and feared.
One of the things my brother Fernando wanted to do while down here with us was to take Nicholas and Carmen... to a soccer game. Three years ago he'd been to a Colo-Colo vs. U de Chile game and although he's over six feet tall and has travelled the world, he said he'd felt very uneasy being part of a crowd of more than 40,000 people leaving the soccer stadium afterwards. So, the game he had in mind would not involve either of those teams, but two tamer (and bad) teams... like Audax against San Luis.
I should mention here that through his friends and involvement at school, Nicholas has become a rabid Colo-Colo fan. His grandpa -- who's now deathly afraid of setting foot in a soccer stadium, but will forever support any and all underdogs -- was not happy with this news and tried to dissuade him, by telling Nick that "only the worst of people" like Colo-Colo. However, if Nick insisted on being a fan, then, he should buy himself a knife, just so he could defend himself against attacks from other fans. ; )
A few days later, one of my dad's friends, Luis, gave Nick a large Colo-Colo flag as a gift (grandpa was once again not amused, but took it graciously by reminding Nick about the knife business). Then, my brother bought Nick a Colo-Colo shirt, which Nick was also thrilled with.
So, there we were, my brother and I, looking online for a tame soccer game, when we realized a huge match was coming up, on April 25 -- a "Superclasico." And which teams were involved? You got it: Colo-Colo against U de Chile. After much debate we decided that yeah, this was the game.
Since Fernando had previous experience, he had ideas on how to minimize the risks (arriving and leaving early, sitting near an exit, covering up any Colo-Colo paraphernalia until we were safely seated with other Colo-Colo fans, buying that knife after all....kidding!)
As for me, I just refused to believe that a family could no longer attend a soccer game in Chile, safely.
There just had to be a way....
(Here are Fernando and Nick, getting searched as they attempt to enter Monumental Stadium:)
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Oh, crud....
A young man (early 20s?) gave me his seat on the Santiago metro today. I was heading home from downtown, and as I stepped into the train, he stood up and said "Señora, sientese...." (Have a seat, maa'am..." )
I looked around to see who the older lady was, and realized he was talking to me! "Ooooooh.... gracias," I said and took the seat, but, I was not impressed. As I mentioned in another post, young people here cede their seats to the handicapped, those with children... and the elderly.
Thanks a lot, kid, I thought. I wanted to ask him why he would do such a cruel thing, but, he had earphones on and got off at the next station, so, I couldn't ...Why must those metro people be so darned polite, after all?!
(Just a few hours earlier, the slightly-older woman taking my order at the Castaño --chain of Santiago bakeries that sells breads, muffins, and very dangerous pastries -- had called me "linda," as in "Digame linda, que quiere?" Tell me, pretty, what would you like?
Salespeople here do that once in a while. If they're in a good mood, they'll also call you "reina" (queen), and "dama" (dame, though it really doesn't mean that; it's more like "classy lady," I think). The one thing you don't want to be called is "señora," or, "maa'am." But anyway, the "linda" had felt really good, until then....)
Speaking of Santiago's metro, it's one of the cleanest, fastest, most efficient modes of transportation I've ever been on. Much nicer than the Toronto subway (sorry....). Also, it has a book-borrowing service. I've never used it but have seen it advertised. It's called "Bibliometro" and it's a partnership with Santiago's libraries:
(http://www.bibliometro.cl/index.php?option=com_content&task=category§ionid=5&id=1&Itemid=2)
Anyway, got a couple of updates, on my previous posts.
The other shoe in the Fulvio Rossi-Carolina Tohá saga dropped today, with Tohá announcing that yes, she is re-launching her campaign for the Party for Democracy's presidency. (I guess she'll also be heading for divorce court, as indeed her personal break-up from her husband, Rossi, is now being acknowledged by both of them, and in the press. What a sad end to the left's "golden couple.")
Forty days after Chile's earthquake, the country is nowhere near how it was before it. The Santiago Times has put together a series of articles on how things are now, and how much there's still left to do. It's really interesting stuff... if you're interested:
http://www.santiagotimes.cl/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=18565:earthquake-in-chile-40-days-on&catid=1:other&Itemid=38
Finally, in a previous post I'd said there were no silent letters in Spanish. Wrong!
My daughter Carmen pointed out that indeed there is at least one silent letter -- H -- in a bunch of words (though, still not in "Nicholas").
So, yes, I stand very much corrected. (And I guess I'd better start getting used to it.....)
I looked around to see who the older lady was, and realized he was talking to me! "Ooooooh.... gracias," I said and took the seat, but, I was not impressed. As I mentioned in another post, young people here cede their seats to the handicapped, those with children... and the elderly.
Thanks a lot, kid, I thought. I wanted to ask him why he would do such a cruel thing, but, he had earphones on and got off at the next station, so, I couldn't ...Why must those metro people be so darned polite, after all?!
(Just a few hours earlier, the slightly-older woman taking my order at the Castaño --chain of Santiago bakeries that sells breads, muffins, and very dangerous pastries -- had called me "linda," as in "Digame linda, que quiere?" Tell me, pretty, what would you like?
Salespeople here do that once in a while. If they're in a good mood, they'll also call you "reina" (queen), and "dama" (dame, though it really doesn't mean that; it's more like "classy lady," I think). The one thing you don't want to be called is "señora," or, "maa'am." But anyway, the "linda" had felt really good, until then....)
Speaking of Santiago's metro, it's one of the cleanest, fastest, most efficient modes of transportation I've ever been on. Much nicer than the Toronto subway (sorry....). Also, it has a book-borrowing service. I've never used it but have seen it advertised. It's called "Bibliometro" and it's a partnership with Santiago's libraries:
(http://www.bibliometro.cl/index.php?option=com_content&task=category§ionid=5&id=1&Itemid=2)
Anyway, got a couple of updates, on my previous posts.
The other shoe in the Fulvio Rossi-Carolina Tohá saga dropped today, with Tohá announcing that yes, she is re-launching her campaign for the Party for Democracy's presidency. (I guess she'll also be heading for divorce court, as indeed her personal break-up from her husband, Rossi, is now being acknowledged by both of them, and in the press. What a sad end to the left's "golden couple.")
Forty days after Chile's earthquake, the country is nowhere near how it was before it. The Santiago Times has put together a series of articles on how things are now, and how much there's still left to do. It's really interesting stuff... if you're interested:
http://www.santiagotimes.cl/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=18565:earthquake-in-chile-40-days-on&catid=1:other&Itemid=38
Finally, in a previous post I'd said there were no silent letters in Spanish. Wrong!
My daughter Carmen pointed out that indeed there is at least one silent letter -- H -- in a bunch of words (though, still not in "Nicholas").
So, yes, I stand very much corrected. (And I guess I'd better start getting used to it.....)
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Riveted by Rossi (and Tohá)
South American politics are pretty darned interesting. From the charismatic "Lula" Da Silva in Brazil to the plastic surgery-enhanced Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner in Argentina to the controversial Hugo Chavez in Venezuela, the cast of Latin political characters keeps their respective populations if not always happy, then, at least, entertained.
Chile too has had some very interesting political figures, one of the most recent being former Chilean president Michelle Bachelet. A child of middle class parents who'd been involved in leftist politics in the early 1970s, Bachelet was imprisoned and tortured during Augusto Pinochet's dictatorship. She lived in exile in Australia and Germany before returning to Chile in 1979, finishing her medical degree, and beginning her political career in the 1990s.
One of the more interesting things about Bachelet however was actually her election as Latin America's first female president in 2006. In a still very patriarchal society, where a husband still calls his wife "mi mujer" (or, "my woman"), this election was novel, and paved the way for the election of other Latin female presidents, such as Mrs. de Kirschner.
Despite having a personal public approval rating of 84 percent, Bachelet's party lost the most recent election in January of this year, to rightist millionare Sebastián Piñera (a character who's had his own interesting history and is keeping Chileans in (unintended) stitches with his public verbal gaffes). Many blame the leftist political coalition Bachelet represented for the loss... and this is where Fulvio Rossi and Carolina Tohá come in.
Fulvio Rossi, 39, also a former physician with movie star looks, is a senator with Chile's Socialist Party (PS); Carolina Tohá, 45, who has a doctorate in Political Science from the University of Milan and is the daughter of a former minister in Salvador Allende's government, is a leading figure with the Party for Democracy (PPD).
Both the PS and PPD are part of the leftist coalition mentioned previously (and which includes a couple of other leftist parties as well). Since 2005, Rossi and Tohá have also been husband and wife (after Tohá allegedly left an eight-year relationship that had borne two daughters, to be with Rossi, one of Chile's most eligible bachelors at the time). Here are their pics:
The couple has been the toast of Chile's left, with both of them pursuing higher political aspirations and being seen as possible presidential candidates, down the road. Despite one very public, political spat in 2007, the couple seems to have been relatively happy and supported each other's political careers.... until very recently, that is.
It all started March 30 when Tohá announced her candidacy for the PPD's presidency, a move supported by Bachelet herself. Just a few days later, Rossi announced his own candidacy for the presidency of his party, the PS.
All good... until April 9 when Tohá suddenly (and apparently without Rossi's knowledge) held a news conference to withdraw her PPD candidacy, saying that while Rossi did not believe that their respective candidacies within their common coalition constituted a conflict of interest, she did, so she was bowing out to allow him to pursue his candidacy. A barrage of very public political attacks then ensued against Rossi, who was accused of ordering his wife to step down, looking out only for himself and being a typical Latin "machista."
Three days later, on April 12, Rossi held his own news conference, to withdraw his candidacy for the PS, and to "defend his honour," by saying he'd never pressured his wife to withdraw; that she never consulted him or asked for his permission in any political matters, as it should be; that he had always supported her and as such, that it would have been nice if she'd actually defended him against the machista charges, because that's something he is not.
After adding he was extremely disillutioned with politics, he retreated to his constituency in Chile's north (and apparently Tohá moved out of their family home, even though Chilean newspapers have not reported that.) He reappeared this week, at a news conference marking the 77th anniversary of Chile's Socialist Party... and also to announce that Piñera can count on him, as the new president takes steps to rebuild Chile following the Feb. 27 eartquake. (In other words, Piñera has a friend in Rossi, when Rossi has been one of Piñera's biggest critics in the past.)
Tohá, meanwhile, is said to be considering the PPD's request that she re-declare her candidacy for the party's presidency, but has not decided yet. She also reappeared this week, to meet with Ena Von Baer, Piñera's spokeswoman, likely to thank Von Baer for her recent support (which came via Twitter), and to maybe impart some wisdom, as Tohá was Bachelet's spokeswoman.
I'm not sure about most Chileans but as for me, I'm eagerly awaiting the next chapter in this juicy saga. Here is another version of what I've just told you:
http://www.santiagotimes.cl/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=18617:chilean-political-party-elections-cause-marital-problems-for-concertacion-candidates&catid=19:other&Itemid=142
In the meantime, however, today I took a picture of a statue of one of my all-time political heroes:
Chile too has had some very interesting political figures, one of the most recent being former Chilean president Michelle Bachelet. A child of middle class parents who'd been involved in leftist politics in the early 1970s, Bachelet was imprisoned and tortured during Augusto Pinochet's dictatorship. She lived in exile in Australia and Germany before returning to Chile in 1979, finishing her medical degree, and beginning her political career in the 1990s.
One of the more interesting things about Bachelet however was actually her election as Latin America's first female president in 2006. In a still very patriarchal society, where a husband still calls his wife "mi mujer" (or, "my woman"), this election was novel, and paved the way for the election of other Latin female presidents, such as Mrs. de Kirschner.
Despite having a personal public approval rating of 84 percent, Bachelet's party lost the most recent election in January of this year, to rightist millionare Sebastián Piñera (a character who's had his own interesting history and is keeping Chileans in (unintended) stitches with his public verbal gaffes). Many blame the leftist political coalition Bachelet represented for the loss... and this is where Fulvio Rossi and Carolina Tohá come in.
Fulvio Rossi, 39, also a former physician with movie star looks, is a senator with Chile's Socialist Party (PS); Carolina Tohá, 45, who has a doctorate in Political Science from the University of Milan and is the daughter of a former minister in Salvador Allende's government, is a leading figure with the Party for Democracy (PPD).
Both the PS and PPD are part of the leftist coalition mentioned previously (and which includes a couple of other leftist parties as well). Since 2005, Rossi and Tohá have also been husband and wife (after Tohá allegedly left an eight-year relationship that had borne two daughters, to be with Rossi, one of Chile's most eligible bachelors at the time). Here are their pics:
It all started March 30 when Tohá announced her candidacy for the PPD's presidency, a move supported by Bachelet herself. Just a few days later, Rossi announced his own candidacy for the presidency of his party, the PS.
All good... until April 9 when Tohá suddenly (and apparently without Rossi's knowledge) held a news conference to withdraw her PPD candidacy, saying that while Rossi did not believe that their respective candidacies within their common coalition constituted a conflict of interest, she did, so she was bowing out to allow him to pursue his candidacy. A barrage of very public political attacks then ensued against Rossi, who was accused of ordering his wife to step down, looking out only for himself and being a typical Latin "machista."
Three days later, on April 12, Rossi held his own news conference, to withdraw his candidacy for the PS, and to "defend his honour," by saying he'd never pressured his wife to withdraw; that she never consulted him or asked for his permission in any political matters, as it should be; that he had always supported her and as such, that it would have been nice if she'd actually defended him against the machista charges, because that's something he is not.
After adding he was extremely disillutioned with politics, he retreated to his constituency in Chile's north (and apparently Tohá moved out of their family home, even though Chilean newspapers have not reported that.) He reappeared this week, at a news conference marking the 77th anniversary of Chile's Socialist Party... and also to announce that Piñera can count on him, as the new president takes steps to rebuild Chile following the Feb. 27 eartquake. (In other words, Piñera has a friend in Rossi, when Rossi has been one of Piñera's biggest critics in the past.)
Tohá, meanwhile, is said to be considering the PPD's request that she re-declare her candidacy for the party's presidency, but has not decided yet. She also reappeared this week, to meet with Ena Von Baer, Piñera's spokeswoman, likely to thank Von Baer for her recent support (which came via Twitter), and to maybe impart some wisdom, as Tohá was Bachelet's spokeswoman.
I'm not sure about most Chileans but as for me, I'm eagerly awaiting the next chapter in this juicy saga. Here is another version of what I've just told you:
http://www.santiagotimes.cl/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=18617:chilean-political-party-elections-cause-marital-problems-for-concertacion-candidates&catid=19:other&Itemid=142
In the meantime, however, today I took a picture of a statue of one of my all-time political heroes:
If you haven't heard of him, he too was a pretty interesting guy.....
Sunday, April 18, 2010
A drive down memory lane
This past weekend, my brother Fernando and I practically forced my dad to take us to some of the places where we used to live, in Chile. Our old neighbourhoods. (Fernando and I would have never found the particular streets and houses, having left as kids and been away now for almost four decades).
Dad didn't want to go and we didn't understand why at first, but when we were driving around he mentioned that being back in some of these places brought back painful memories for him. (For example, he lost daughter, and Fernando and I lost a sister, in a car accident, in the early 1970s, etc.)
In the end, though, we all had a good time, including him, as he ran into some ladies he'd been friends with, as a kid! Following are some of the pics... and commentary:
Dad didn't want to go and we didn't understand why at first, but when we were driving around he mentioned that being back in some of these places brought back painful memories for him. (For example, he lost daughter, and Fernando and I lost a sister, in a car accident, in the early 1970s, etc.)
In the end, though, we all had a good time, including him, as he ran into some ladies he'd been friends with, as a kid! Following are some of the pics... and commentary:
Most Santiago neighbourhoods are made up of row-housing, with very narrow, very low homes. Many of these row homes are more than 100 years old. The first stop on our memory lane tour was the house where my mom, Lita, grew up, in the Davila Neighbourhood (Poblacion Davila). This house (white portion only) is more than 60 years old.
Next stop was the street where my brother and I spent our first few years, in Poblacion Santa Olga. Those are row houses on both sides and we guessed there'd been a party on the street this past summer, because of the decorations hanging from the wires overhead.
Another view of the same street.
Fernando and me in front of our old lot. Our house used to be a wooden structure at the back of this fenced lot, which was at one point replaced by a brick stucture closer to the street (as I've mentioned in another post, rich we were not).
Our final stop was at my dad's neighbourhood, Poblacion Nogales, and the street he grew up on.
Dad runs into a childhood friend, Patti.
My dad's neighbour when he was growing up, Mrs. Gemma, who's lived in the same house for more than 60 years (as people in Santiago's poorer neighbourhoods tend to live in one place for life), and my dad's cousin, Ona, on the right.
This one's not part of the memory lane tour. Instead, Fernando and I did some sightseeing in Santiago last week. This pic is at "La Chascona," Pablo Neruda's home in Barrio Bellavista.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
$tep right thi$ way....
I decided to see a doc while down here. Nothing's wrong; I just wanted a second opinion, on a few things. I also wanted to experience the Chilean medical system a bit.
According to the internet, Chilean health care is provided through two systems operating in parallel: public and private. Workers pay for both systems through a mandatory contribution of at least 7 per cent of their salaries.
Basic health care is guaranteed to all Chileans, regardless of their ability to pay, through the state run FONASA (National Health Fund). The private system is delivered by health insurance providers called Isapres (Institutes of Public Health and Preventive Medicine), which in addition to receiving public funding, sell different levels of private health insurance to individuals wanting to "top-up" what's offered by the public system.
The way I understand it, Isapres offer and pay for services and care above and beyond what FONASA does. Let's say a basic ear exam paid for by FONASA is $80, but you want a couple of additional audiology tests done, which cost another $60, so, that comes out your Isapre, or your own health insurance, which you're paying additional premiums for.
Isapres generally work through a network of private health care providers who are either independent or contractually linked to the Isapre. One such Isapre health care provider is IntegraMedica, ( http://integramedica.cl/) a chain of privately-owned, medical service clinics located all over Santiago, and which Gladys, my dad's wife, referred me to.
These are gorgeous, modern, several storey high buildings offering the whole range of medical services. I.e. First floor is usually the lab; second: general medicine, pediatrics; third: mental health, dermatology; fourth: cardiology, neurology, traumatology; fifth: gynecology; sixth, dental health.... etc. You name it -- they HAVE it.
I wanted a full medical check-up with a female doc so I picked up the phone late one morning and called an IntegraMedica building two blocks away, hoping for an appointment later that week. "Si...," said the receptionist. " I have several openings today. How is 2:30?"
"TODAY?!" I said, choking on my coffee. "Sure...."
When I arrived, I saw the interior of IntegraMedica's buildings are as sparkly clean as their exteriors. Of course, the very first question I was asked upon arrival was, "How are you paying for this?" Well, what they actually asked was which "Isapre" did I have? As I have neither FONASA nor Isapre, I said "private."
"Then, that will be $65 for today's visit with the doc. And we accept cash, VISA or MasterCard...." A minute later, a petite brunette about my age, wearing a lab coat and stethoscope, called my name and off I went, with Dr. Elida Gonzalez. We spent about half an hour together, with about a quarter of this time being the doc inputting all kinds of info about me on her desktop computer. She also ordered a half a dozen tests -- everything from bloodwork to... well, you don't need to know.
Each test has its own cost, of course (starting at about $12 and going up to $48, for me, anyway), which you also pay upfront. But, you can check your results... on line! even before coming back to discuss them with the doc.
Exactly a week later, I got an appointment with Dr. Gonzalez, again, the same day I called. "Everything looks good," she said. "I'm just going to give you a prescription for...." some meds that cost me about $20, and done I was!
To say it was the fastest, most efficient and best medical encounter I've had in many, many years would be the understatement of the year (for me). Yes, I had to pay for it out of my own pocket... but, really, I pay in Canada, too, just in a different way.
Of course, no system is perfect. Here's an article that puts it all into a broader context: http://managedhealthcareexecutive.modernmedicine.com/mhe/Managed+Care+Outlook/Chiles-healthcare-offers-public-and-private-plans/ArticleStandard/Article/detail/647865
I'm just glad everything was a-OK with my health.... Now, about those teeth....
According to the internet, Chilean health care is provided through two systems operating in parallel: public and private. Workers pay for both systems through a mandatory contribution of at least 7 per cent of their salaries.
Basic health care is guaranteed to all Chileans, regardless of their ability to pay, through the state run FONASA (National Health Fund). The private system is delivered by health insurance providers called Isapres (Institutes of Public Health and Preventive Medicine), which in addition to receiving public funding, sell different levels of private health insurance to individuals wanting to "top-up" what's offered by the public system.
The way I understand it, Isapres offer and pay for services and care above and beyond what FONASA does. Let's say a basic ear exam paid for by FONASA is $80, but you want a couple of additional audiology tests done, which cost another $60, so, that comes out your Isapre, or your own health insurance, which you're paying additional premiums for.
Isapres generally work through a network of private health care providers who are either independent or contractually linked to the Isapre. One such Isapre health care provider is IntegraMedica, ( http://integramedica.cl/) a chain of privately-owned, medical service clinics located all over Santiago, and which Gladys, my dad's wife, referred me to.
These are gorgeous, modern, several storey high buildings offering the whole range of medical services. I.e. First floor is usually the lab; second: general medicine, pediatrics; third: mental health, dermatology; fourth: cardiology, neurology, traumatology; fifth: gynecology; sixth, dental health.... etc. You name it -- they HAVE it.
I wanted a full medical check-up with a female doc so I picked up the phone late one morning and called an IntegraMedica building two blocks away, hoping for an appointment later that week. "Si...," said the receptionist. " I have several openings today. How is 2:30?"
"TODAY?!" I said, choking on my coffee. "Sure...."
When I arrived, I saw the interior of IntegraMedica's buildings are as sparkly clean as their exteriors. Of course, the very first question I was asked upon arrival was, "How are you paying for this?" Well, what they actually asked was which "Isapre" did I have? As I have neither FONASA nor Isapre, I said "private."
"Then, that will be $65 for today's visit with the doc. And we accept cash, VISA or MasterCard...." A minute later, a petite brunette about my age, wearing a lab coat and stethoscope, called my name and off I went, with Dr. Elida Gonzalez. We spent about half an hour together, with about a quarter of this time being the doc inputting all kinds of info about me on her desktop computer. She also ordered a half a dozen tests -- everything from bloodwork to... well, you don't need to know.
Each test has its own cost, of course (starting at about $12 and going up to $48, for me, anyway), which you also pay upfront. But, you can check your results... on line! even before coming back to discuss them with the doc.
Exactly a week later, I got an appointment with Dr. Gonzalez, again, the same day I called. "Everything looks good," she said. "I'm just going to give you a prescription for...." some meds that cost me about $20, and done I was!
To say it was the fastest, most efficient and best medical encounter I've had in many, many years would be the understatement of the year (for me). Yes, I had to pay for it out of my own pocket... but, really, I pay in Canada, too, just in a different way.
Of course, no system is perfect. Here's an article that puts it all into a broader context: http://managedhealthcareexecutive.modernmedicine.com/mhe/Managed+Care+Outlook/Chiles-healthcare-offers-public-and-private-plans/ArticleStandard/Article/detail/647865
I'm just glad everything was a-OK with my health.... Now, about those teeth....
Friday, April 9, 2010
Kissing in a foreign land
Let's say you're asked to leave Canada .... by your boss, and not CSIS, silly! So, it's a foreign, work assignment kind of thing and you're away for 15 years.
You come back and the next day your sister introduces you to her neighbour. You move to shake the neighbour's hand and he takes it all right but suddenly he's also ... planting a wet one on your cheek! Or, if you're a guy, the female neighbour doesn't take your hand at all but you catch a glimpse of her lips just as they're about to smack on your face!
Yes, very French, I know, but, if you're not used to it - or, you're from Anglo-Canada! - pretty disconcerting, right?
That's how it was when we first arrived in Chile. I discovered that since the last time I was here in 1994, Chileans had taken up cheek kissing as a greeting, something entirely new and different from what I remembered and which took some getting used to.
Many times I'd forget about this new custom and would NOT move to kiss, causing the poor kisser to hesitate or feel embarrassed or end up planting one on me in a weird spot - like my forehead.
It's also a bit strange when the person you're meeting is even mildly attractive, 'cause you do this "GoshIhopemybreathdoesn'tsmellandIlookOK " kind of monologue in your head, knowing that it's probably too late now to worry about it, anyway, 'cause those lips are a-comin! whether you want them or not!
Two months now into this kissing-greeting thing and it's ... alright. Probably one of the sweetest things I've seen down here was Carmen being greeted by another little girl her age, with a kiss on the cheek - just like the grown-ups do. Also I've seen men kiss-greet, in the countryside and not in busy Santiago, but still, that's quite the progress for a macho culture!
Speaking of customs and manners, in another post I complained that I didn't think Chileans were very courteous. Well ... maybe I wasn't looking in all the right places. I've been on the metro lately and you should see how people of all types and ages immediately spring up and offer up their seats to pregnant women, people with infants, and senior citizens that come on board.
And finally on manners, I saw something in Argentina that really charmed me. Everywhere we went, if you said "Thank you very much" to a waitress, a cab driver, or the porter at the hotel, the reply would invariably be: "Oh, noooo, por favor...!" which translates into something like: "Oh, noooo, pleeeease....!" But the real meaning was in the tone, which conveyed: "Don't even think about it! It was SO my pleasure! "
"Por favor....!" is one custom I just might adopt back home, but I think I'll completely forget the kiss-greet thing ... lest I want to make myself, my friends and their husbands extremely nervous....!
You come back and the next day your sister introduces you to her neighbour. You move to shake the neighbour's hand and he takes it all right but suddenly he's also ... planting a wet one on your cheek! Or, if you're a guy, the female neighbour doesn't take your hand at all but you catch a glimpse of her lips just as they're about to smack on your face!
Yes, very French, I know, but, if you're not used to it - or, you're from Anglo-Canada! - pretty disconcerting, right?
That's how it was when we first arrived in Chile. I discovered that since the last time I was here in 1994, Chileans had taken up cheek kissing as a greeting, something entirely new and different from what I remembered and which took some getting used to.
Many times I'd forget about this new custom and would NOT move to kiss, causing the poor kisser to hesitate or feel embarrassed or end up planting one on me in a weird spot - like my forehead.
It's also a bit strange when the person you're meeting is even mildly attractive, 'cause you do this "GoshIhopemybreathdoesn'tsmellandIlookOK " kind of monologue in your head, knowing that it's probably too late now to worry about it, anyway, 'cause those lips are a-comin! whether you want them or not!
Two months now into this kissing-greeting thing and it's ... alright. Probably one of the sweetest things I've seen down here was Carmen being greeted by another little girl her age, with a kiss on the cheek - just like the grown-ups do. Also I've seen men kiss-greet, in the countryside and not in busy Santiago, but still, that's quite the progress for a macho culture!
Speaking of customs and manners, in another post I complained that I didn't think Chileans were very courteous. Well ... maybe I wasn't looking in all the right places. I've been on the metro lately and you should see how people of all types and ages immediately spring up and offer up their seats to pregnant women, people with infants, and senior citizens that come on board.
And finally on manners, I saw something in Argentina that really charmed me. Everywhere we went, if you said "Thank you very much" to a waitress, a cab driver, or the porter at the hotel, the reply would invariably be: "Oh, noooo, por favor...!" which translates into something like: "Oh, noooo, pleeeease....!" But the real meaning was in the tone, which conveyed: "Don't even think about it! It was SO my pleasure! "
"Por favor....!" is one custom I just might adopt back home, but I think I'll completely forget the kiss-greet thing ... lest I want to make myself, my friends and their husbands extremely nervous....!
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
So.... what do you DO all day?
Since babysitting doesn't count, I had my first "real" job at 14. I helped my dad clean a small, meat-packing plant, in Swift Current, Sask. We sprayed scalding hot water on the large meat cutting machinery with a hose, and cleaned the smaller machines by hand, with soap and water.
I still have the slightly disfigured right index finger -- and scar that goes along with that -- from when I almost severed the lower half of that finger, while cleaning a particularly treacherous machine. (I remember my biggest worry was completely losing that half-finger... before I'd had a chance to have a boyfriend! Great, I thought, now I never will!!).
It was the end of that job... but it was the start of my working life, because it was followed by dozens of other jobs: MacDonald's after school; washing dishes at a pizza place when MacDonald's didn't give enough hours; cleaning motel rooms in the summer; waiting on tables in my town's best, and worst, restaurants; taking tickets at an entertainment venue.
Thankfully as I got more education, my jobs got better: shelving books at the university library; writing stories for my small town newspaper; organizing festivities for the annual Canada Day celebrations.
Then, with a B.A. in Journalism and Communications in hand, I started having the most fabulous jobs, ever (well, a couple of them were, anyway ; ) -- news-wire beat reporter; writer at two of Canada's best universities; and PR professional for a wide range of companies and industries. In there were also my two maternity leaves, which really were my best, and toughest, jobs ever.
So... I've always worked. Until now.
I've been unemployed for just over two months now and it will be at least three 'till I return home and I'm gainfully employed again, which recently prompted a friend from down here to ask me: "Sooooooo, what do you DO all day?" I had to tell her -- I'm really busy!
I'm at up 6:15 every morning making the kids breakfast, before getting them up at 6:45. In half a hour they get dressed, eat, brush their teeth, and ensure they don't forget anything, before I walk them downstairs to catch their school bus.
On most days at this point, I keep right on walking to a nearby Starbucks Coffee shop, where I arrive just after it's opened. I grab a "Grande Americano con Leche" and a seat on the second floor, at the very back, near the electric outlets so I can plug in my laptop. The sun's just coming up over the Santiago skyline, jazz plays in the background.
I've been freelance writing and editing a bit down here so I usually spend an hour or two on this, but also send e-mails, read the local news, check Facebook and Linked In (!), look for information. Near noon, I go back to the apartment for lunch, and to catch up on housework. Laundry is usually the biggest job as we don't have many clothes down here, but a tiny washer and no dryer in the apartment. I also sweep the floors, straighten up.
My kids get home from school at around 5 p.m. so dinner is another priority. Once we've discussed their entire school day and eaten, it's homework time, and my two always have homework, much of it requiring me to sit them with them and translate, either verbally or in writing.
At 8 or 8:30 the kids prepare their backpacks and lunches for next day, take showers, and head for bed no later than 9:30. I follow soon after, as those 6:15 mornings can be a killer on less than 8 hours' sleep. On Friday nights we pack up and drive to my dad's farm, returning Sunday afternoon so we can start the weekly cycle all over again.
So, yeah -- it's been heaven.
Still, it will be amazing to be home again. We've decided to head back April 30, as planned, instead of staying longer. My sabbatical -- and my "life of leisure," as I've called it -- will end at that point but hopefully an exciting new job will replace it.
How about you? Have you always worked too?
I still have the slightly disfigured right index finger -- and scar that goes along with that -- from when I almost severed the lower half of that finger, while cleaning a particularly treacherous machine. (I remember my biggest worry was completely losing that half-finger... before I'd had a chance to have a boyfriend! Great, I thought, now I never will!!).
It was the end of that job... but it was the start of my working life, because it was followed by dozens of other jobs: MacDonald's after school; washing dishes at a pizza place when MacDonald's didn't give enough hours; cleaning motel rooms in the summer; waiting on tables in my town's best, and worst, restaurants; taking tickets at an entertainment venue.
Thankfully as I got more education, my jobs got better: shelving books at the university library; writing stories for my small town newspaper; organizing festivities for the annual Canada Day celebrations.
Then, with a B.A. in Journalism and Communications in hand, I started having the most fabulous jobs, ever (well, a couple of them were, anyway ; ) -- news-wire beat reporter; writer at two of Canada's best universities; and PR professional for a wide range of companies and industries. In there were also my two maternity leaves, which really were my best, and toughest, jobs ever.
So... I've always worked. Until now.
I've been unemployed for just over two months now and it will be at least three 'till I return home and I'm gainfully employed again, which recently prompted a friend from down here to ask me: "Sooooooo, what do you DO all day?" I had to tell her -- I'm really busy!
I'm at up 6:15 every morning making the kids breakfast, before getting them up at 6:45. In half a hour they get dressed, eat, brush their teeth, and ensure they don't forget anything, before I walk them downstairs to catch their school bus.
On most days at this point, I keep right on walking to a nearby Starbucks Coffee shop, where I arrive just after it's opened. I grab a "Grande Americano con Leche" and a seat on the second floor, at the very back, near the electric outlets so I can plug in my laptop. The sun's just coming up over the Santiago skyline, jazz plays in the background.
I've been freelance writing and editing a bit down here so I usually spend an hour or two on this, but also send e-mails, read the local news, check Facebook and Linked In (!), look for information. Near noon, I go back to the apartment for lunch, and to catch up on housework. Laundry is usually the biggest job as we don't have many clothes down here, but a tiny washer and no dryer in the apartment. I also sweep the floors, straighten up.
My kids get home from school at around 5 p.m. so dinner is another priority. Once we've discussed their entire school day and eaten, it's homework time, and my two always have homework, much of it requiring me to sit them with them and translate, either verbally or in writing.
At 8 or 8:30 the kids prepare their backpacks and lunches for next day, take showers, and head for bed no later than 9:30. I follow soon after, as those 6:15 mornings can be a killer on less than 8 hours' sleep. On Friday nights we pack up and drive to my dad's farm, returning Sunday afternoon so we can start the weekly cycle all over again.
So, yeah -- it's been heaven.
Still, it will be amazing to be home again. We've decided to head back April 30, as planned, instead of staying longer. My sabbatical -- and my "life of leisure," as I've called it -- will end at that point but hopefully an exciting new job will replace it.
How about you? Have you always worked too?
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