Last day in Vina del mar... *tear*

Last walk on the beach. Last sunset from my apartment. Last Spanish lesson. Last chance to make out in Duff (our favorite club. Partly because it's super easy to make out. OK, mostly for that reason. I mean the Escudo tastes the same everywhere, and thy play the same 3 reggaeton songs in every club...). Overall, Chile has been kind to me, minus the cold, which hasn't been brutal, but neither has it been kind. On that note, I can't believe I'm going to spend two weeks in wintery Buenos Aires before I head to the beaches of Northern Brazil, where it'll be warm!

I guess the rain wasn't particularly kind, either. After a few days hiatus, it came back with a vengeance. Vinians are seemingly oblivious to the innovation that we might call "gutters" or "storm drains;" instead the slow pile of rain becomes rivers in the street and deceptive puddles on the sidewalks. Any surface with an incline sheds sheets of waters, with little rivers of bubbles running through them (probably a result from some industrial or auto pollution, but fun nonetheless). The parks, which have a uniform loamy sand on their footpaths, become prehistoric muddy bogs, hostile to their normal pedestrian traffic. And as everyone back home in western Washington can agree, rain in 35 degree weather is no fun.

But generally, I think I can say I'll miss Vina del Mar. I took one last walk on the beach at sunset today (just to be a TOTALLY cheesy romantic), and knew that being here in spring and summer must be one of the nicest ways you could spend your time - lacking the crowds of summer, but still with enough heat to stroll in a t-shirt. Seriously, the beach is such an awesome place; at night for being contemplative, and during the day as a public meeting spot. Beach, boardwalk, and public parks give plenty of places to stroll around with friends and family, see people, and just be social. There are carnival rides and battery-powered cars for the kids (I can't even imagine how excited I would have been at 8 years old if I had a racetrack of Power Wheels next to my house), local handicrafts, beautiful sand sculptures, tasty snacks, and surf, sand, and sun. The whole thing makes me think about how profoundly sad it is that society is so isolated in the United States: parks are for walking the dog and avoiding at night; "family" usually means just the people that live in the same house (when you see them); and our biggest concern seems to be how we can help ourselves. I think if I ever had kids, I would want to raise them someplace in addition to the US. I mean, I love my country, but there's a lot more out there.

Jason has one more week of school, and he's working on a video project where his group is investigating the concept of piropos, or Chilean pick-up lines (or something like that. Not really pick-up lines, just silly things to holler at girls to try and get them to smile. Equivalent to what construction workers do in the US, but more clever and not as ordinario). They're as many and varied as all modes of Chilean speech, and while they usually come from the guys, girls will use them as well. Pretty much, everyplace else in the world (except maybe Muslim countries, although I have no first-hand experience) are more open about sex than the US. Not just whistles on the street and piropos, but making out in a restaurant, for example, is perfectly acceptable socially. Jason says that some of the gringas in his classes are offended by the whole thing, but to me it just seems like a cultural difference - one of those things people supposedly travel to experience. In fact, when Jason told his Chilean friend that piropos are considered low-class in the US, she replied, "really? How boring." She went on to explain that while not always welcome, it always feels nice that someone thinks you're so attractive that they'll blurt out something ridiculous just to get your attention. I first became familiar with the concept when Jason and I were at a club one night, and I had had enough drinks that when Jason told me to go over to a couple of girls and ask eres de aca, o del cielo? - are you from here, or from Heaven? - that I actually did it. And what's more, it actually worked! We got invited to dance; I couldn't believe it. I told that story to a Chilean friend and tried to explain the concept of "cheesiness" with my limited Spanish vocabulary.

I still consider my Spanish to be pretty awful, especially my comprehension, although I did throw out some old flash cards today, ones I'd learned, and I was impressed at how big the stack was. But understanding people is a totally different story. Especially in Chile, where even Chileans will admit their grammar and pronunciation is bad. As yet another example, the Spanish for 10 is diez, which Chilenos tend to pronounce dii (like with a small guttural stop between the two I's), or maybe just like a long, drawn-out letter D. Basically, they're the equivalent of the mumbling Scotts of the English-speaking world (although they do say super a lot, which is cool - pronounced "sou-pear". I'm surprised I haven't been using it more; I use it a lot at home). And I just can't wait to get to Argentina tomorrow, where yo becomes cho and ll is pronounced sh instead of yu, and a factura is a pastry, even though it's a receipt everyplace else in Latin America.

Oh yeah, I'm really seriously supposed to have my interview with Omar Bello tomorrow morning. Which means I had to put off going to Buenos for a day (and days are starting to become precious at this point), and I'll be at the UN with my big red backpack. Sou-pear cool. I just hope it actually happens this time - first there was the thing with the permission to film, then he got sick on Thursday (I found out 5 minutes before I got on the bus), and then his secretary didn't call me back on Friday to let me know if he would be in, and no one was answering the phone, and I need 3 hours to get there... what a pain! I missed a week of Spanish classes for that. But it gave me more time to eat manjar ice cream, which is nice (I have it in the mall, which you'll recall is heated and thus more conducive to ice cream-eating).