As for the Political Situation…

This week before last, Chile held its second round of National Elections and the center-right candidate, Sebastian Piñera, won with a small majority over the center-left Eduardo Frei. During our first few weeks here, we experienced a bit of the election fervor with the candidates smiling faces pasted on cheesy billboards all over Santiago and small flag-carrying rallies showing their support for the candidates at opportune times and places across the city. Nothing felt entirely urgent about the election and this was reflected by apathetic responses about the political scene in Chile by people we had talked to along the way. The night Piñera won, the only thing different about Santiago was the ubiquitous blaring of car horns from all corners of the city, a sound seemingly equal in support of and in disgust to the news of the election.

For a little history behind the election, Michelle Bachelet is the current president with over an 80% approval rating over her four years in office and she is a socialist from the center-left Concertacion coalition that has been in charge of Chile (in various forms from Socialist to Christian Democrat) over the last twenty years since the brutal fascist military dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet. Eduardo Frei was already president in the late 1990s that got the ticket then based on his father being an important president of the left of the pre-Allende, pre-Coup era. Frei’s presidency was marked by a general rise in the economy based on global (neoliberal economic) trends and the Chileans we talked to say all they remember about his presidency is that ‘he went on a lot of trips’. His campaign promised to continue the popularity of Bachelet’s policies. So, exciting and inspiring candidate, he was not.

Sebastian Piñera is a billionaire who owns a national TV station, part of the national airline and the national soccer team, and loads of other investments that he made through the success of the Chilean economy from the 80s onward. He has run for president for the past couple elections, but was always soundly defeated by the more popular Concertacion candidates. His win has made his business interests confusing for Chileans, as I gathered from talking to one man, and he has to sell everything off before taking office to ensure impartiality to his private interests. Just like Dick Cheney and Haliburton, right? Right.

Making matters more difficult for Piñera was Chile’s historical experience with parties from the right – namely the (American influenced) Pinochet era of brutal authoritarian oppression, secret police, thousands of deaths and disappearances, and a disastrously failed neoliberal economic plan that left unemployment and hunger high for the majority (to which I will write another post about because of its importance to Chilean history and national character, as well as to my own academic interest – more on that later). He was up against a mountain of mistrust of the right and his platform was based on not being politically connected to the Pinochet era (although he certainly benefitted economically at the expense of the majority based on his interests) and wanted to offer change from the now-lackluster Concertacion coalition. The Concertacion coalition’s apathetic and uninspiring appeal to voters was based on a “don’t go right” plead. It was an opportune time for Piñera and the right, by all accounts, and Frei barely put up a convincing fight.

No one we have talked to actually voted in the elections. Some showed support for either candidate, but certainly felt disenfranchised by the whole political process. I cannot blame them. Politics of Chile is largely based on your name and your connections (sound familiar, Bush? Clinton?) and those in the congress and in presidency have mostly had family historically involved in politics. The candidates are not seen as inspiring figures, but rather a pick of the lesser-of-two-evils in a world of private sector economic successes for Chile that people more want to associate themselves with – that’s where Piñera was able to find his calling as a private-sector prodigy over Frei’s, well, still-lucky-to-be-in-power positioning.

For me and for many, before the run-off vote between Piñera and Frei, there was an independent candidate named Marco Enriquez-Ominami (MEO) from the left that won 20% of the vote that was particularly exciting. He is a socialist who actually wanted to start changing Chile’s socially conservative institutions regarding gay rights and women’s reproductive rights, among many other initiatives. From what I’ve been informed, it’s a first for Chilean politics – it wasn’t even debated between Frei and Piñera. MEO is a filmmaker and a Paris-educated intellectual that rallied the younger generation of the left around the inconsistencies in the ruling center-left party regarding social class and individual rights, and to get 20% of the vote before the runoff, not to mention being only in his late 30s, as well as being the son of an important counter-figure of the 1973 military coup, shows that he may be an important figure for years to come in Chile. After this lackluster election and the disenfranchisement of many of the people in their national politics, Chile’s future certainly looks interesting from MEO’s angle.

Post Cinco 1/27/10

This last weekend was spent just southeast of Santiago in the Cajon del Maipo. It was an easy trip from Santiago, about an hour on public transportation totaling less than $2 each. We stayed in one of the many tiny towns of the Canyon’s one main road in San Alfonso at a small Hostel/B&B called Los Castaños. The owner, Luciana, was extremely nice and she gave us a private room and bath, a rarity in the Hostel world. We also got breakfast every morning consisting of eggs from the numerous chickens that roamed the property, fresh fruit juice, great coffee, and homemade bread and jam. It was all very luxurious feeling, made even better by the incredible view that the property offered with its many grapevines, fruit trees, and flowers sandwiched between the two mountain ranges making up the valley.

Day 1 was spent exploring the town and sitting by the Maipo river (the fastest and most violent river I have ever seen, the pictures do it no justice), finished with a bottle of wine at home and an excellent dinner at a restaurant in San Alfonso. The restaurant served really good crepes, but the memorable part of going here was meeting the people that ran it. The owner and our server was apparently a famous Chilean rock star in the late 80s who used to play stadiums of up to 60,000 people – this was all told to us by a Chilean woman who lived and worked at the property where the restaurant was who had lived in New York for years and spoke perfect English. He played us some of his music and I have to admit it was pretty good, as it sounded like a Spanish-language Smiths or The Cure and I’m disappointed that I didn’t write down the name. We also found out from the woman that Luciana, our Hostel owner, was this man’s sister (to which we found out more about this man via Luciana that he quit the band after becoming quite a mystic – something reinforced by our experience meeting him). The woman also told us that they were starting a commune on the property and her son (who is an artist and an underground Santiago rapper, which they played us some of his music) was camping in the backyard on one of his many visits to her and the communal family. Interspersed with all this were numerous children and other adults of the commune coming through the place and making it an incredibly interesting and engaging atmosphere. We talked until late and made the moonlit walk back to our hostel.

Day 2 started by trying to catch the bus to other locations in the Canyon when the family that was also staying at the hostel offered to give us a ride in their car to where they were going – a waterfall somewhere in the south. We went with them in a packed car of a husband and a wife, two children, the husband’s mother, and Molly and I. We got to know them well over the next two days and they were exceedingly gracious people. We ended up not making it to the waterfall due to the husband’s decision to turn around (where we saw one waterfall in the distance, but no way to get close to it), but we had a beautiful ride up the mountains instead and a nice stop by the river where people had camped around some natural pools. We eventually made it back and Molly and I were left to our own devices of what to do for the rest of the day.

We walked around asking many of the locals where to go hiking but we never got a complete answer because all the property around us was owned by businesses, residential, or just ‘private property’. This became extremely disappointing as we walked and saw the natural beauty surrounding us, but no easy way to experience it (not even a single hiking trail that we could find) without paying someone to take you there or use their property and/or services. It’s a disappointing fact of the modern world that a price has been put on the experience of nature, based on a past mad rush to buy up land for private use rather than preserve natural spaces for public interest. Because the El Morado National Park was about a two-hour ride away with no easy answer as to how to get there (besides a once-daily bus that we long missed), we decided to trek on and find something.

We finally did find something where we saw groups of people camping beside a stream leading to the Maipo River that went up the eastern mountains beyond view. We decided to walk up it based on a recommendation and it stands as the best part of our trip. The rocky stream eventually runs up into its own small canyon (small in relation to the Maipo Canyon we were in) with multiple waterfalls the higher up you go. In the length of the stream towards the waterfalls (cascadas) were people setting up camp in whatever space they could find between the large boulders and the stream. It was an amazing sight, something to which I know no parallel in the US. As Molly and I made the hike up, we talked to many of the people as to what lay ahead (as we really did not know much about the hike) and the people were very nice in telling us about the place as well as being interested in us. The atmosphere was amazing – you would walk up a steep path around boulders only to find more campsites of people eager to say hi and be friendly to you, giving you the best route of how to make it up the stream, by the many rocks, and follow its ambiguous path toward the beautiful cascadas. It was in this that I realized that people were camping in this area for the simple reason that it was the only public land for miles in a canyon enveloped in a picturesque landscape dotted with ‘private property, no trespassing’ signs on fences and walls. These people were here as an expression that you can’t put a price on nature, that there will always be spaces like this for everyone to enjoy, and that the atmosphere based on the character of the people making it up who realize this freedom makes the experience that much more free and liberating, because there’s simply no price tag to be put on it. Really, why put an impediment on something that we all collectively want to enjoy for free? We eventually made it up the canyon to the second cascada (of a supposed five, but we saw no way of making it further up), in an amazing display of natural beauty that my pictures try to, but never will truly represent. The walls of the canyon were thinly separated by the river rushing over the numerous rocks and boulders breaking up the stream, and here we were standing in it, taking it all in. We made our way back home right before dusk, reeling over what we had just seen over a bottle of Chilean wine.

Day 3, we decided to go rafting down the Maipo before heading back to Santiago. I had never been whitewater rafting before (my closest experience being tubing down the awfully tame Muskegon River, by comparison) and it stands as a great experience. I simply can’t describe what being on a river so fast and so violent in its whitewater rapids feels like other than to recommend you experience it for yourself. To be on the Maipo, to take on its rapids in an inflatable raft with 6 other people, and have all-too-brief glimpses of the variation in the incredible landscape surrounding you at all times is simply too much for words. Molly and I loved it and could barely lift our arms after the workout we unknowingly endured. We got a ride back to Santiago from a nice couple sharing our raft, stopped for some mote con huesillos (a Chilean specialty of peaches, juice, and wheat kernels – bizarre but refreshing, I assure you) that they treated us to, and said our goodbyes after making future plans for travelling to wine festivals at harvest in March. Once again, Chile’s landscape and its people made this experience memorable, and we plan to go back to the area soon to see the El Morado National Park that we missed this time around with its hot springs, glaciers, waterfalls, huge peaks, volcanoes, and, well, everything else that makes nature impossible to ignore.

Post Quatro 1/20/2010

Molly and I spent the weekend in Valparaíso, which will stand as one of the most unique places that I have ever been to. We got there by bus (about a 2 hour drive from Santiago for approx. $6 US each) and once we reached the crest of the cliffs looking down on the multi-colored houses dotting the landscape over the Pacific, the excitement set in.

Walking around the city feels like a living art gallery, not just for the picturesque landscape surrounding you at all times, but the literal art covering numerous buildings throughout the city. Chile’s street art has been a particular interest of mine since arriving here and Valparaíso’s art really took my respect to a whole new level. The city exists as a postmodern canvas for people’s art and it looks as though (for the most part) that the local government has complied in letting artists paint throughout the streets without issue, but rather with encouragement. The result to some may seem dirty, unorganized, cluttered, and/or a byproduct of youth rebellion, but this ‘graffiti’ is an instance of true art to me, expressing real feelings of an artist’s view of the world in an exciting, open way. It connects you to the art in a way that a canvas simply can’t – it’s out in the open, it’s part of a building, part of the landscape, it’s simply there as a part of the whole experience of a place. It also reflects a certain feeling of a new place – the way you know that something is happening culturally that you just do not know, but want to dig deeper. The answer comes in meeting people, talking to people, and learning what makes them proud of the place in which they live.

We happened to be walking in the Cerro Bellavista district of Valparaíso to look at the street art when we passed a street corner where a bunch of young Chileans (I say young because they were more close to Molly’s age than mine…) were singing and playing guitar. Molly and I both stopped to watch without realizing it, and the people called us over to join them and we couldn’t refuse. There was just something so nice, so free, and so laid-back about them that was so inviting beyond them just calling us to come hang out with them. There were about seven people there and only one knew a bit of English, so we were once again in a situation of Molly translating for me. Molly unintentionally let them know that she sings and that I play guitar back in the US, so they made us play a few songs (always followed by “Más! Más” for more songs), to which people leaning out the windows in the apartments above were watching and clapping along. It was a great experience, to say the least. I’ll take meeting people like these over seeing the Statue of Liberty or Eiffel Tower any day. It was a welcoming feeling like no other and they seemed to greatly appreciate our music, albeit mostly for Molly’s voice I’m almost positive...

We had to leave because we had plans to see some Bossa Nova music at a café in another part of the city (Cerro Concepcion) by the recommendation of a nice Frenchman living in Valparaíso named Guillaume. That, too, was a wonderful experience in a truly unique café called Café Color, and Guillaume showed up near the end with his Chilean wife after his day of selling antiques on the sidewalk (where we had met him) and working a shift at another local café. It got late, we said our goodbyes, expressed our gratitude to the (wonderful) musicians, and made our trek home down the hills toward our hostel.

This is just a fraction of our experience in Valparaíso, but I suppose the point I would like to drive home about what was so extraordinary about this city beyond its incredible landscape and its numerous public artwork(s) is the type of people that the town either attracts or creates in its culture. We had a tiny sampling of this, but we could see it all around us in the numerous cafes, shops, and bars that we either went to or slowly walked by, but what remains prescient in my memory about this trip was the experience of an all-encompassing feeling that a new place offered. That feeling comes as a product of the city’s culture mixed with the traveler appreciating it through the right kind of eyes. It’s the feeling that you want ‘home’ to offer no matter where it is, and it’s through experiences like this in a place proud of its cultural distinctiveness that you cannot shake from your memory once you return home. I have a feeling we’ll be back soon, Valparaíso.

Post Tres 1/13/2010

There exists a neighborhood (barrio) in the north of downtown Santiago called Bellavista. It’s full of nice shops, galleries, and restaurants as well as artists selling their handcrafted goods on blankets beside the sidewalk. For the most part, it has the wonderfully ‘bohemian’ aesthetic of a true artist’s quarter in its more affluent and original parts. Pictures I have taken of the area hopefully serve as a nice representation of this. However, the main strip of bars on Avenida Pío Nono highlight a certain unshakable disappointment that I’ve found in similar areas in cities across the US, Canada, Europe, and, now, South America: namely, the ‘American’-style bar scene. That is, big bars serving cheaply advertised drinks on loud signs over loud music, and by extension, even louder people seemingly lost in the abyss of the enormity of it all.

This is the type of area where Americans like to go when in a foreign place (by my experience) and the requisite karaoke bars, dance clubs with American music, and English-language signs all prove not only this, but the willingness of another culture to accept American culture for the sake of money over anything else. It is certainly not only Americans that go here, as Chileans are most present. However, my critique of this lies in that this type of bar-culture does not get produced out of the place where it exists, but rather gets imported as an idea to be exploited that has worked elsewhere – in the overwhelmingly homogenous American capitalist mode. Why complain if it’s everywhere, then? That’s what’s natural to capitalism, right? It doesn’t have to be:

When Americans go to a place like this particular barrio, they feel comforted by signs of home but have the certain exoticism that a foreign place offers – if only for the simple fact that they are actually in a foreign country. Chileans, on the other hand, get to experience American ethos and divulge in things that may seem ‘cool’ to them by global media influence. But, what’s actually gained on both sides is nothing but a loss of culture, a loss of what makes places interesting and unique in the first place, a loss of what cultural identity means, and why culture interests those outside of it so much. It’s in the details, the complexity of it all that culture encompasses. It is in places like this that it is easy to see what is not original about the place, what has not grown out from within a culture, but far from it and imported in by blind capitalists exploiting an idea they did not come up with.

What’s the alternative? The corner bar that’s been there for as long as the people remember. The dance club where you can hear Chilean music by actual Chilean artists. The restaurant that serves, and always has served, traditional food to the local populace for the simple reason of that’s what people know as good food to their cultural minds. It’s where a culture says it is based on the dynamic minds that make it up. This is where culture exists for us as outsiders to see, but people on both sides of the coin get fooled by imported American ethos of what a popular bar-scene should be. What’s important is that that ethos is born out of America and the minds of the people in that cultural world, not in Chile or anywhere else.

That is what is particularly exciting about microbreweries in America. They are born out of American cultural ethos and further push cultural identity from the products they produce. Microbreweries don’t exist out of nowhere; they exist because it makes sense to culture from which they arise. They exist for a simple reason that people want some actually good tasting beer from their country if for no other reason – and that idea can only come from within because it is a product of the engine of culture.

The same goes for Chile or anywhere else in the world: what makes you unique are your cultural customs born out of the minds of people within your own culture. That’s what makes you distinctive – your own influence over what may be popular in a far different place, however close globalization may seemingly make it. It’s in these details that make, have always made, and should always continue to make culture unique and rewarding for all involved – from within and from the outside looking in.

Post Dos 1/8/2010

I’ve been here for almost a week now and am growing more comfortable in my Santiago surroundings by the day. I’ve also gained a whole new respect for Molly not only for her fluency in Spanish, but in her confidence in meeting and conversing with new people that is inherent to her personality. Without her, this experience would be considerably more confusing and personally withdrawn, and so much of my comfort in this new social climate is due directly to her. To have Molly with me is the confidence to break any barrier, be they cultural or imagined.

My Spanish is limited at best, but I am learning. Molly, of course, fills in the gaps and allows me to be in conversation with Chileans by acting as interpreter. But it’s through her speaking with them that I’m learning the most of what phrases to use and how to get across thoughts when translation is seemingly impossible. I’m confident by a few weeks through this constant everyday involvement with another language, I’ll be best able to speak Spanish passably and grow my knowledge base by the day towards some sort of fluency. This is exciting to me, because language classes have thus far have proven largely useless. Immersion is the key and it has always been my want. And in Chile, where Spanish is spoke incredibly fast (the fastest in the Spanish-speaking world, and is a sort of cultural pride that the Chileans hold), my trial by fire will be more advantageous for me in understanding the complexity of the language and be able to reproduce it myself. But currently, I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that it’s overwhelming, however optimism and openness is the key.

Our living arrangement is very nice, to say the least. Search “0151 Manuel Antonio Prieto” in google maps to see our exact location. Generally speaking, we’re on the border of the Centro and Providencia districts and live beside the fantastic Parque Bustamente that reaffirms my love for large and meticulously maintained public parks and spaces sorely missing from American cities (central park in NYC being one rather obvious exception). To our north is Parque metropolitano with the statue of the virgin Mary perched atop which is visible from any open space in the city; to our east are the enormous Andes, with snow-capped mountains further visible when the smog is less dense; the west some smaller mountains/hills; and the south some Andean cliffs and foothills that disappear in the smoggy distance. Orientation is thus pretty easy, we have yet to get lost, and it is, of course, very, very beautiful to be in and around despite the omnipresent smog.

We live in a large home with our landlord Susana on the third floor; the kitchen, office, balcony, and some rented rooms on the second; and Susana’s mother, her living space, some other rented rooms, and our room on the first. The house is very lively with people coming and going throughout the day, either from those living in the rooms or working for the business that occupies the second floor office. Hyper-fast Chilean Spanish permeate the walls by day and the city sounds by night. And then there’s Robertina, our housekeeper who keeps it all organized. She’s an incredibly sweet older woman that absolutely adores Molly (to which she has given the name “María” instead of her harshly unfamiliar “MO-lee”). She’s a very interesting, knowledgeable person with a complex past that will further shed light on our knowledge of Chilean history through her own personal history. I will, of course, thank Molly for being able to hear her stories through her translations until I get my Spanish-speaking legs considerably less wobbly.

I will post more as I become further acquainted with this city and its culture, but with this being my first-week basis of understanding I will wait to venture further. This place is exhilarating for me and for Molly and a welcome change to the Grand Rapids life we had become familiar with (but which we do not want to separate ourselves from – it will always be home, of course). I hope to share the everyday excitement we have once I start to accumulate the stories of a period of time lived in the unfamiliar: the vast and inspiring Santiago.

Post Uno: 1/6/2010

As you all may well know, I'm spending four months abroad in Chile with Molly. The prospect of such an adventure was far too exciting to pass up and so here I am -- living and learning in Santiago. It's all very new, very exciting, and ambiguously open.

So what am I going to do here? Molly is studying at Universidad Andres Bello starting Monday, leaving me with wide-open days to explore this (amazing) city, research trips to take around this (amazing) country and continent, and be a graduate student through it all. That's where this blog comes in.

I intend to further my study in anthropology down here by reading and applying my vast array of abstract concepts in cultural anthropology to real-world experiences that I have while down here. I'm really yet to do this in my 'academic career' (to get all pretentious on you) and so this blog will serve as not only a journal of events, but as a guide to Chile from a graduate student's perspective of how society and culture shape our lives. With a little luck, it will read like a script to Anthony Bourdain rather than Samantha Brown. I'll be starting with my hopes high and hopefully keep the jargon low.

For now, I'll leave with a thought that may gear you towards why I think anthropology, traveling, and living outside the familiar mean so much to me: without it, how could I ever hope to learn how to live in this ever-evolving, ever-complex social world we inhabit without generalizing all that I experience? With that question in mind, I hope to show why it is even important to do so.

And, oh yeah -- Holy shit! I'm in Chile!!!!