Final observations

Or blog posts that didn't quite make it to fruition

With just 48 hours left of our time in Chile, it's a sure-fire fact that there are a million and one things that I still want to write about. Here's a selection of snippets of observations that have been floating around my brain but as yet haven't made it on to paper.

Traffic

Traffic in Santiago drives Carlos and I completely round the bend (excuse the pun). Beeping the horn is as obligatory as gear changes and takes the place of a dawn chorus in the early morning rush hour. While traffic lights here signify the following actions:

• Green light - zoom through as fast as you can, beeping the horn at anyone who happens to slow down or stop for any reason, be that for congestion, red traffic lights up ahead, a stray pedestrian or because they've crashed into a fence (yep, we watched this happen).
  
  
• Amber light - speed up even more to make sure you get through before the lights 'change' (no preparing to stop here).
  
  
• Red light - only takes effect after the first 5 or 6 cars have gone though the red light. Likewise, traffic starts moving again from around 30 seconds before the lights change to green (or the driver's patience is at an end, whichever is the shortest).

"Mani, mani, cuchufli"*

Chileans are an industrious and resourceful nation. Whenever there is an occasion to sell something, you can guarantee there's a vendor right there. Roaming sellers are ubiquitous; whether on the street, at the Metro entrance or in the micro, you can pick up everything from Super Ochos, to tights, to plasters, to sewing thread.

Of course there is a serious side to this, as this on-the-hoof selling is how many, many Chileans make a living. But the funniest thing (at least to us) is the appropriateness of the goods. If it's a hot day - it's ice-creams, a chance of rain - umbrellas, new year - yellow underwear, football match - vuvuzelas and silly hats. And the best I've seen so far is a kid selling lemons in the middle of a demonstration, to help participants counteract the effects of tear gas!

You will also never go hungry in Chile as "catering" (pronounced as cat not Kate) is rife. Concerts, beaches and parks all ring with the sound of "mani, mani, cuchufli". It's become a running joke between us now, that even in the most isolated spots like the Tatio geysers, there will probably be someone with a cardboard box full of goodies.

*Mani = peanuts; Cuchufli = a tube of pastry filled with manjar and covered in chocolate; Manjar = sweetened condensed milk boiled to a caramel-like consistency; Super Ocho = a chocolate covered wafer bar


Car alarms

Car alarms are musical here in Chile. My first jetlagged experience was trying to sleep while a flypast went low overhead as part of the Fiestas Patrias celebrations continually setting off a cacophony of alarms. Eventually, it reached the point that Carlos and I could sing along. Something like:

Ner - nir - ner - nir, nuuuurgh - nuuuurgh, woo woo woo woo woo woo woo woo wooo, ne ne ne ne ne ne ne ne, mwik miwk miwk miwk.

You get the picture.


Isabel Allende

Going all serious for the moment, I never had the opportunity to follow up on my New Heroes post and write about Isabel Allende. I read her excellent book The House of the Spirits, which is basically the history of Chile in fictional form, which deals with everything from post-colonial feudalism to state torture under the dictatorship. I like her for her presentation of strong women in her novels, within a society that is very male dominated.


On being a giant

This is the mirror that every other woman checks their
hair and make-up in on the way to the Metro

Right back at the beginning of my stay here in Chile I observed how freakishly tall I am in this country and how it leads to a lot of eyes turning in my direction. Sadly for me, this hasn't got any better. I still have to endure the entire Metro carriage looking at me with curiosity as I stand there trying not to get too flustered. I still get in the way in department stores and bash into things (nothing new there then) and I still find myself able to see over the top of toilet doors. And I still terrify the occasional child.

While I may have learnt the hard way the value of ducking my head, I'm looking forward to only being slighter taller than average and not a startling object of wonder.


Yo Hablo Chileno

It's hugely well documented that coming to Chile will supposedly ruin your Spanish. Or that if you can understand Spanish here, you can do it anywhere. Now, I'm not one to judge, but I will agree that there is a great deal of slang and that the pace and pronunciation make navigating conversations a challenge at times. But despite my consciousness that I would eventually be speaking Spanish with Spaniards, I hadn't realised quite how 'Chileno' was my vocabulary until Carlos and I sat today making a list of all the words that I know that are not used in Spain. Oh, and when we tried to buy slices of ham in the supermarket last weekend and it was me that the assistant could understand and not Carlos! Here's to the very strange combination of a Brit speaking Chileno with family from northern Spain on my next visit to Zaragoza...