Mi Familia Chilena

Granted, there is not much to see and/or do in Olmue, Chile, but I’m proud to say I more than likely did it all. On our final morning, we Gringos woke up early for a hike in “La Campana,” the Chilean National Park in Olmue. The temperature was somewhere in the low to mid-50’s, so even though we were hiking, everyone was in jeans or sweatpants coupled with sweatshirts and fleeces. We had a guide who gave an ecological tour (completely in Spanish) so I was able to scrape together only the more basic details of Chilean flora and fauna. Regardless, the views from the park were incredible – the Chilean Andes as a background to an array of greenery (from evergreens to cacti).

For our last night in Olmue, we decided to go to a karaoke bar we had seen on our walk earlier that morning, and although it appeared closed from the outside at around 11:30 PM, the owner ran out into the street after us to call us inside. We were the only ones at the bar for a good period of time, until a group of Chileans (who all worked as rollers for a cigarette company), joined us. Thus, the revelries began. The “piscola” (whisky and coke, more or less) definitely helped my Spanish, and before long we were all up dancing salsa and joking in Spanish. Plus the exchange rate is bumpin', and I ended up spending no more than $7 or $8 all night.

This morning we left Olmue for Vina del Mar (about an hour’s ride) to meet our Chilean families. Along with everyone else, I was beyond nervous to meet them and feared that my day wouldn’t be filled with awkward silence and unmet needs. Fortunately, my Chilean parents (Claudio Marin y Vivienne Villarreal) were really friendly and assured me that my Spanish was not as bad as I thought (they are, however, horrible liars). They proceeded to take me out for a Chilean cell phone and then took me home for lunch and settling in.

Once we were back to the house, I met Axel and Alex (my Chilean brothers, 20 and 24, respectively) and to avoid the certain confusion and the obvious irony of having 3 boys with essentially the same name, my family has taken to calling me Alexander. I was able to speak and understand well during lunch, and I was able to explain some of the differences between Chilean and American Universities. Unfortunately, during the conversation I used up all of my mental energy, and no longer could quickly translate Spanish to English (and vice versa) in my head. Since then, more of the awkward silences have occurred and “No entiendo” has become my most frequent Spanish phrase.

(Just a note, I've decided to end every entry with the patented end to a Lanakila trip story "All in all, it was a ________ trip." I know these posts are long, so if you don't feel like reading everything I've written, but want a general sense of my demeanor, this is for you.)

All in all, my Chilean family is incredibly friendly.