Blog Moratorium: Saying goodbye to the “Skinny One”

As many of you know, I am back home now in California. My travels came to an abrupt halt after the death of my brother, Richard. We held a beautiful memorial service for him at Whitman College and at home in Davis. Almost 2,000 people turned out for the services.

I dodged Chile’s 8.8 earthquake by two weeks. Los Alamos (my hometown) was only 150 miles from the epicenter. Fortunately, everyone in my family is safe and sound. The only damages were broken plates and cups in the house. Los Alamos was without electricity or water for almost three weeks following the earthquake and experienced the same looting that was seen on television. I miss my Chile a lot, but I am grateful to be home with my parents.

On a positive note, I was accepted to Stanford University’s teacher education program (STEP) and classes start in June.

Memories of my Brother Richard

My life forever changed on December 16^th 1990. I became a brother. At first I was a little reluctant to be an older brother. My mom tells me that a few weeks after Richard was born, I told her “Okay mom, you can take the baby back to the hospital now.” But being Richard’s brother is the best thing that has ever happened to me and will forever define who I am.

Growing up, Richard was my best friend. The two of us spent hours building things out of legos, sitting around a board of Monopoly or Risk, setting up pillow forts, and playing video games. We developed a friendship that only two brothers can share, the type of relationship that forms when you use the same bathroom every morning and your rooms are side-by-side. Richard and I both loved skiing, mountain biking, and backpacking and we would always get sucked into the latest fads, like Pokemon Cards, Beanie Babies, and Pogs.

Richard and I didn’t always have a perfect relationship. We got into our share of fights too. I remember once when he was a baby, I hit him when my parents weren’t looking. My parents asked me why Richard was crying and I said “I don’t know why the baby’s crying. He’s always crying.” Even with all of the fighting though, there was never a moment when I wasn’t fiercely proud of Richard and all of his accomplishments. At Brown, I always told my friends about how he was such an awesome skier and I would show them pictures from his crazy dance parties in our garage. Richard loved everything and everyone in his life and he was never afraid to show it.

I was fortunate enough to talk to my brother on the phone two days before he died. We had not talked in a couple weeks, so we had a lot to share. I told him about my travels in Ecuador and how beautiful it was down there. He told me about his upcoming ski race and how even though he was only skiing GS, he was still excited to ski for free in Utah. The two of us planned my visit to Whitman in the spring time. I asked him about which airport I should fly into and he discussed the merits of each of them. “You could always fly into Walla Walla, but that is more expensive. Portland and Seattle are further away, but you could rent a car and make a road trip out of it.” The two of us decided that a road trip was the best option. Oh...what I would give to still be visiting Richard this spring.

God was watching over me even in the hours before my brother’s death. I was in a used book store in Ecuador and I came across a copy of Mitch Albom's “The Five People You Meet in Heaven.” The book is a quick read and I read it cover to cover that evening. The next morning my brother passed away.

The story is of an elderly man who dies and meets five people in heaven who explain to him the meaning of his life. The fourth person that he sees is his deceased wife who died many years before him. The elderly man is angry at his wife because she left him when he was still young. Responding to his anger, she tells him:

“Lost love is still love. It takes a different form, that's all. You can't see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken, another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it. Life has to end, love doesn't.”

I take solace in this story, because I have so so many happy memories of my brother. Memories of jumping out of our lofts onto our beds, memories of nurf gun fights, memories of swimming together in our backyard, and memories of waking our parents up at 4 AM and opening our presents from Santa Claus. I will hold onto these memories forever.

I also take comfort in the story of the elderly man because I know that Richard will be one of the people that I will meet in heaven. He will be waiting to explain the twists and turns of my own life. He will be waiting for me just as I remember him sitting in his loft building K'nex or playing Halo.

I love you Richard and I will never stop dancing with my memories of you.

I love you Richard. I am coming home now. Please wait for me.

Week 28: Journeying with Indy through the “Egypt of South America”

30 Sec. Update: After a relaxing time in Lima, this week I continued north on the Panamerican stopping in Chiclayo, Peru. Famous for its pre-Incan pyramids and tombs, I spent two days visiting archaeological excavations in the surrounding area. The treasure being found in these tombs is worthy of an Indian Jones movie: immaculate turquoise inlaid gold headpieces, intricate copper jewelry, and skeletons of priests and kings over 1800 years old. Chiclayo is also15 minutes from the beach where fisherman take “reed surfboards” out into the ocean everyday to catch fish. I was too embarrassed to ask one of them for a ride. This weekend I am crossing yet another South American border and my next post will be coming from lush Vilcabamba, Ecuador.

Ruined in Northern Peru: While less famous than Incan sites such as Macchu Picchu in southern Peru, the ruins north of Lima are nevertheless worth the visit. I had originally planned to bus through this part of Peru but I am grateful that I took the time to stop. The histories and cultures of the Moche, the Lambayeque, and the Tumi civilizations often get overshadowed by their more famous Incan descendents.

From Chiclayo I visited Sipan which has pyramids and burial chambers of ancient kings and priests, which are ongoing excavation. Sipan was the capital city of the Moche people for several hundred years beginning around the time of Christ and has the wealth to prove it. In the tombs archaeologists are discovering elaborate arrangements of ceramics, jewelry, and human sacrifices, all of which are being restored and showcased on site and in local museums. The intricate detail and craftsmanship of tombs' ornaments was impressive. Sadly, several of the tombs were looted before the excavations and many of the artifacts are lost forever. But those intact tombs are a treasure trove of gold, turquoise, and archaeological insights.


From a tomb's arrangement and the burial dressings of its deceased, the archaeologists can identify the remains of the king's wife, his concubines, his royal family, and his guards in the after life. One burial practice that I found fascinating was the “foot removal” of the tomb's guards. The belief behind chopping of their feet was that the guards would never be able to abandon their king. Note to self.

Seeing all of the ruins and walking through the excavation sites reminded me of my love of Indiana Jones movies when I was younger. I remember asking my mom once if I could buy a bull whip just like Indy's, so I could swing from tree limbs. I think that same love of adventure, the search for hidden treasures, and traveling in far off places is what brought me to South America. While I haven't discovered any priceless treasures yet, I know that my younger self would be excited to hear about my last seven months here.

Bang for your Buck in Bolivia: The least developed of its South American siblings, Bolivia is a bargain even by South American standards. I had heard that Bolivia is a lot cheaper than Chile and Argentina, but I didn't realize until I got there how cheap it really was. Here's a sample of what I was spending on a daily basis:

• $3.50 night in a shared dorm room

• $1.00 good haircut and shave

• $1.50 taxi ride across La Paz

• $0.35 hamburger from a street vendor

• $3.25 T-shirt

• $0.15 five pre-filled water balloons ready to be thrown at kids in the plaza

• $35.00 dinner with Kayla at a nice restaurant with appetizers, a bottle of wine, and desert

• $0.30 Salteña (a sweet meat filled meat pie)

• $0.15 bus ride anywhere in the city

Why I choose to WORK abroad instead of STUDY abroad: When I graduated from college I had some regrets about my decision not to study abroad. I envied my friends who had lived in exotic places and returned with such interesting perspectives on life in other countries. But I'm grateful that I chose to teach abroad rather than passively study. It is not simply a realignment of my personal mission in going abroad, but it completely changed how I experienced Chile and how Chile experienced me.

When I worked as a teacher, I became immersed in the daily on-goings of my community. Instead of just traveling through a town as an observer, I became a participant. The people around town immediately warmed to me when they found that I wasn't just here to take pictures of them, but I was there for the noblest of reasons: to help their children. On a regular basis complete strangers greeted me in the street because they had a child in my classes.

There were still plenty of times when I felt like an outsider. Sometimes it was hard to walk through town without feeling like every person I passed was staring at me and whispering the words “Mira, el chinito” (“Look, the Chinaman!”). But I never would have met the people that defined my time Chile if I didn't have a job to go to every day.

Getting out of a big city strongly shaped my time in Chile. Living in a town of 8,000, meeting people who didn't speak a word of English, and working in a community that had never known an American before made everything feel all the more real. Students abroad are restricted to big cities because their lives center around a university. If I had studied abroad, I would have been surrounded by other Americans, I would have been speaking English all of the time, and I would have never known of places like Los Alamos.

Now whenever I meet other travelers who were “studying abroad” in Santiago, I wonder whether they got to really know Chile. If I had lived in Santiago, there would have been no trips to the campo, no backyard barbecues, no pan casero, and no class 5C. I am not saying that after only four months in Los Alamos I am an expert of what it means to be Chilean, but I do know that the Chile I lived in was a more real and unique experience.

Week 27: Peruvian Harold and Maude

30 Sec. Update: For the past week I have been relaxing in Lima and hanging out with an 80-year-old Peruvian women (the mother of a close friend of my family). I have been staying in her guest room, helping her run errands, and just taking it easy. It has been a lot like a visit to Grandma's house; this whole week, I slept in late and was fed really well. All the rest is good before my final push. After my week here, I am heading due north to Ecuador and Columbia where I am planning on wrapping up my trip. I haven't bought my ticket yet, but I plan to come home mid-March, which feels like it is just around the corner.

A little bit of Chilean nostalgia: After only being way from Los Alamos for 2 months, I am already nostalgic and missing my life in Chile. The little thing are what I miss most, such as my host mom's homemade bread and trips to Isla Morguilla. These are the types of things that I forgot to mention in phone calls home and I didn't have space to write about on my blog, but they are what I am nostalgic for.

Top 10 Things that I Miss from Chile

1. Tia Iris' pan casero: There is nothing quite like the smell of fresh made bread or eating a piece straight from the oven. Making enough bread for ten people is a serious process, so there was always an opportunity to help knead the dough or watch the bread as it rose.
   
   

2. Onces: I wrote about “onces” or late night snack on an earlier blog post. Onces was always my favorite time of the day; there was never a time when I felt more like part of the family. The hours of conversation were marked only by the passing cups of coffee and tea.

3. Class 5C: Before I began teaching my host-teacher warned me that the students in class 5C were “pocos retardos.” Not really knowing what that meant, I just assumed that they were special education students. In the end I figured out it was a mixed bag of students with learning disabilities, students who were held back a year or two, and random students that the school didn't have space for in the other classes. Regardless of how they ended up in that class, 5C quickly won over my heart. They had more energy and enthusiasm than any of my classes and at least every other class ended with two of the students wrestling on the floor.
   
   

4. Sound of rain on the corrugated tin roofs: On nights it rained, there was no more cozy a place that being bundled up in bed and listening to the sound of the rain land on the roofs.

5. Choripan and Chorillana: Two of my favorite Chilean junk foods. Choripan is grilled sausage on bread coated in salsa, hot sauce, and pickled onions & carrots. Chorillana is french fries covered with cheese, tomatoes, hard boiled eggs, sausage, steak, and olives. My mouth is watering just thinking about them. Hmm...maybe it was good that I left Chile after all.

6. Isla Morguilla: One of Los Alamos' hidden gems. Each time I went out to Isla Morguilla I always thought about two things: first, that it is not actually an island and second, that it is overwhelming beautiful. Watching the waves crash thirty feet in the air and waiting there as the sun sets never gets old.
   
   

7. $2 boxes of Chilean wine: You pay at least $50 a bottle for this stuff in the United States. Life is good.

8. Tio Lucho's Asado: I'm realizing that a lot of my favorites are connected to food. Eating a slice of steak straight off my host-fathers grilling fork is the next closest thing to heaven. Some of my happiest moments in Los Alamos were sitting on stool watching my host-father grill meat and patiently waiting until he offered me a piece.

9. TurBus: Chile's luxury bus line. Being able to hop on a first-class overnight bus and end up at your destination 500 miles away is a pretty great thing. I have started writing business plans in my head to make a pitch for a TurBus line that runs up and down the East Coast. Anyone know where I can get some startup money?

10. El Campo: Chile's culture is rooted in the campo and my experiences there were also rooted in the campo. Shopping trips to buy cattle, fishing for crawdads, illicit collection of fire wood, horseback riding, hunting for mushrooms, and random errands with my host-teacher's husband. I will never forget my many trips to the campo.
    

Top 10 Things that I Don't Miss from Chile

1. Chilean health superstitions: Don't drink water before you got to bed or you'll catch a cold. Always eat bananas after you go running or you will get cramps. You must drink a cup of wine when you eat seafood or you'll get sick to your stomach. If you don't where leather shoes in the winter, you'll catch a cold. Don't go outside after being in a hot room or your muscles will freeze in twisted positions. I never got to the bottom of all of the health superstitions, but all Chileans believe them and anytime I tried to point out how illogical they were, they just looked at me as if I was stupid.
   
   

2. Having to put toilet paper in the trash can: While I eventually got use to this practice, I know that I will enjoy that first flush with the toilet bowl stuffed with TP. I also won't miss having to take toilet paper everywhere I go. Those few times I forgot left me with some uncomfortable memories.
   
   

3. The strikes: Chileans love to strike. During my months in Chile, the public workers went on strike, the teachers went on strike, and even the lumber industry went on strike. Sometimes they get what they were striking for. Sometimes they don't. Sometimes you are on strike for over a month of classes. Strikes stopped being like a vacation after the first week.

4. Inadequate grocery stores: One week the other volunteers and I tried to make our host-family an “American Meal.” We had grand plans to make Cesear salad, lasagna, and apple pie, but limited by what we could find in the grocery store, we had to settle for tuna melts. The grocery stores simply lacked a lot of the basic American foodstuffs. A little bit of ethnic food would be nice too.

5. All the mayonnaise: Chileans put mayonnaise on just about everything. Mayonnaise on rice, mayonnaise on hot dogs, mayonnaise on steak, mayonnaise on french fries, and on anything else that didn't have enough fat already. They even make homemade mayonnaise.
   
   

6. Kiti and Mac's all-night barking: Kiti and Mac were the names of our host-family's dogs and the window in my room faced their doghouses. On the nights that all the dogs in town had a barking competition, I didn't get much sleep.

7. No central heating: Arriving in the middle of the Chilean winter without central heating made for a freezing first night. That night I remember thinking that I wasn't going to survive my time in Chile. It's funny how easily you take things like central heating for granted. Wearing a knit cap and long underwear while sleeping became a must. Many nights I would be able to see my own breath in my room before I went to bed.

8. Chilean time: The bell schedule at my school was not automated, so many days classes would start a half hour late and ten minutes early. Trying to lesson plan on Chilean time was impossible at times.
   
   

9. No breakfast and big lunch: I grew up under the mantra that “Breakfast was the most important meal of the day.” A piece of bread and a cup of coffee just wasn't enough for me. I wanted bacon, fresh fruit, omelettes, and yogurt. On the other hand, lunch, which was served around 2 PM, was usually twice as much food as I normally eat for dinner. I would be starving all morning, unable to eat that much food for lunch, and then hungry again in the evening. I never quite got used to the portions of Chilean meals.

10. All the ironing: Chileans dress to impress and the only person that doesn't iron every article of their clothing is the town drunk. And that is because he forgot. Coming out of college when the only time I ironed my clothes was at graduation, this was frustrating at times. There would be many mornings when I was running late and I would try to sneak out of the house with slightly wrinkled pants and host-mom would turn me back.

Bringing Chile Home: I miss my Chile. My time there was so rich. Every moment was full of laughter and humility as I tried to live a normal life in a foreign place. I am a little worried about when I return to California. I have so much to look forward to in the coming years, but I am unsure if it will compare to my experiences here. I understand why expatriates leave our country never to come back. We have it pretty good in the US of A, but life here feels less sheltered, less comfortable, less safe, less expensive, and most of all less predictable. I am still figuring out the kind of life that I want to live, but I know that it is going to look a lot more like my life here.

Week 19-26: What happened to the last 2 months?

30 Sec. Update: I've returned to the blogosphere! During the last eight weeks, blogging fell at the wayside as I finished my grad school applications, hosted my family and Kayla during their visits, and traveled in Patagonia, the Atacama Desert, and Bolivia. BUT this is my solemn promise to resume blogging at least once every two weeks.

Where in the world: Since my last post, I have traveled from the Southern tip of South America up to La Paz, Bolivia (the heart of the continent). In an attempt to keep this post from being too long, I am just going to list a couple of the highlights from the last two months.

-Saw a Manu Chao concert in Santiago. “King of the Bongo. King of the Bongo. Here me when I come.”

-Shared a flight to Patagonia with Benny Prasad (http://www.bennyprasad.com/) on his way to Antarctica. In case you haven't heard of him, he is setting the world record for visiting every country in the world in the shortest amount of time. He's already visited 218 countries (Antartica was his 52^nd of the year) and he's on target to break the record this next year. Most amazing of all is that he's NOT some wealthy South Asian. He is funding his travels entirely from donations that receives from free concerts that he gives. One of the more interesting casual conversations that I have had.

-Listened to the Perrito Moreno glacier move three feet/day. Imagine a glacier sixty feet high and the size of Buenos Aires. Yeah...pretty impressive.

-Backpacked 13 days and 125 miles in Patagonia split between Torres del Paine (Chile) and El Chalten (Arg). Patagonia met every bit of the hype.

-Went to Isla Magdalena, the nesting site for over 100,000 Magellanic Penguins. I felt like I was David Attenborough.

-Was honored at a school-wide assembly attended by all of the students and teachers of my school. I was regaled with hundreds of notes and gifts from my students. The event wrapped up with my embarrassing attempt to dance the Cueca (the national dance of Chile).

-Held an international family reunion (Davis, California meets Los Alamos, Chile). For three days my Davis family lived a day-in-my-life for the past 6 months. They savored my host-father's asado, they met my students, they lived in “El Caupo,” and they even put their TP in the trash can.

-Brought in the New Year with Kayla in Valapariso, Chile (one of South America's best celebrations). Trying to watch 17 different firework shows at the same time all across the bay was no easy task.

-Biked at sunrise through Valle de la Luna, aptly named for its other-worldly landscapes. Along the way, I also climbed 300-foot sand dunes, spelunked in desert salt caves, and debated the beauty of Patagonia vs. Atacama.

-Toured the Capel Pisco distillery in Vicuña, Chile. It was gratifying to watch grapes become bottles of one late night guilty pleasures.

-Spent my 23^rd Birthday on a 3-day by Jeep trip through the Atacama desert and across the border into Uyuni, Bolivia. Saw thousands of flamingos, the world's largest salt flat, volcanic sulfur hot springs and geysers, and stayed in a hotel constructed entirely out of salt.

-Joined tens of thousands to watch Evo Morales inaugurated at Tiahuanaco (Bolivia's Macchu Pichu). Evo is Bolivia's first indigenous president and Bolivians sure are proud of it! Indigenous groups from all over the Americas (as far North as Canada) came to attend the event. All of the spontaneous dancing and the after party was epic.

Marisol's Story: Leaving Los Alamos was much harder than I expected. Sitting at the dinner table an hour before my bus to Santiago, I was brought to tears trying to thank my host-family for everything that they had given me. As I silently sobbed in front of them my host-mother, father, and brother also began crying. It was a bittersweet moment for all of us. My Chilean family had shared so much with me even though they struggled to pay their monthly utility bills. How can I ever thank them?

The amount of love and affection they showed me, a person who they knew nothing about less than six months ago, was powerful. After only a few days in Chile, I felt like their son. But that is how my host-parents live their lives. My second week in Chile, I blogged about my first Chilean wedding. However just this past week, I learned the full story of the bride, Marisol.

Marisol was formerly a high school boarder at my host-parent's house. Five years earlier, in the same month, at the age of fifteen she became pregnant and her mother died. With neither the baby's father nor Marisol's father in sight, she was all alone. Instead of abandoning her to the care of the government, my Chilean parents saw Marisol through her pregnancy. Marisol continued to live at their house and my host-mother took care of her baby so that she could finish high school.

Fast forward five years later and that was the wedding I attended. Both father's are still not around, but Marisol is now happily married to a new husband and her son is five-years-old

My host-parents at the wedding with Marisol's son.

The amount of time and resources that my family gave and continue to give to ensure that Marisol's child grew up in a safe household is remarkable. And to do all that for a teenager they hardly knew when they barely had enough money for their own family, is probably the most moving thing that I have ever witnessed.

I share this story to recognize the beautiful gift that my family has given to Marisol, but also because my Chilean parents are my role models. I want to give the same kind of gift to my students when they enter my classroom. I want to greet them with the same kind of overwhelming love that my host-family showed Marisol when she was so vulnerable. I have a lot to live up to.

Moving on: I'm sitting alone in front of my computer in the middle of La Paz, Bolivia. I have no idea where I will be a week from now. My wheels have stopped moving and for the first time since July, I don't know my next step. I have ideas: traveling north to Ecuador and Columbia, finding work in Bolivia and living with another host-family, or I am even considering coming home. Seeing Kayla and my family was wonderful and a pleasant reminder of everything that is awaiting me in the United States.

Before leaving for South America, I planned to return home at the end of the February, but after six months here I feel as conflicted as ever about the right time to come home. Grad school remains on the horizon, but the earliest program that I applied to begins in mid-June leaving me with four and half months. But I guess this is why I decided to take this year off in the first place. I wanted the absolute freedom that comes from not knowing the next bed I'll be sleeping in or the next meal I'll eating. Enough thinking. Time to go see what tomorrow brings.