“How in the world are you gonna order your food down there? They don’t speak English.”
These were some of the last words my Southern maw-maw shared with me on my last day at home. I could only sigh, hug her and try to explain, once again, that I did know a little bit of Spanish. Maybe enough to order some food.
“Well, just take care of yourself. Don’t get kidnapped.”
If I had to pinpoint a phrase that I heard more times than “good luck,” “congratulations on your acceptance to the study abroad program,” etc., it was “don’t get kidnapped.”
It was routine at that point to smile, laugh and promise that I would take care of myself.
I cannot express what a relief it was to finally be on the road. On the road, or sky path maybe, since more air travel was involved than road travel, to the next huge chapter in my life.
This past spring, I was accepted into the Council on International Educational Exchange Liberal Arts study abroad program in Santiago, Chile.
Chile. South America.
I don’t think it sunk in that I would be living in another country for five months until week one of living here. It didn’t even sink in on July 20, when my plane took off from Miami, and I settled in for a grueling nine-hour flight with a horribly uncomfortable travel pillow.
I hear about students studying abroad all the time. It’s not a huge shock to hear that somebody is spending a semester in Spain, Australia, Italy, etc.
I hear all the stories about what an amazing time it is, how it changed my life, blah blah blah. I was 100 percent ready to stop hearing other people’s stories. I was ready to live and tell my own.
So now, here I sit, roughly 4,800 miles away from home, staring out my window at the Andes Mountains hovering above a city teeming with over six million people.
Santiago is a world filled with life, as people bustle and push for spots on the metro, children play amiably together in the parks, and everywhere there is beauty, empanadas and Spanish.
For the first time, I am living in a place where English is not the main language. I’ll be honest, it was terrifying at first, but as I start my fifth week here, I’m growing more and more comfortable with the Chilean Spanish constantly flowing around me.
They weren’t kidding when they said this was an “immersion” program. Our first week here, we registered for classes at Universidad de Chile and prepared for registration at two others, La Católica and Universidad Diego Portales.
Then we moved in with host families, none of whom speak any English.
I live with one woman, Rosita Arancibia, in an apartment building in the Nuñoa district of Santiago. As my host mother, she is tasked with feeding me, doing my laundry and making sure I come home every night.
As I slowly get accustomed to living here, there are several things I know I will never again take for granted when I return to the United States in December.
First and foremost: central heating.
It is winter here in Santiago, and though it’s a lovely 75 degrees now, it was about 40 to 50 degrees when we first arrived. It was pretty chilly, especially coming from a very warm summer in the States.
We were all a little surprised to hear that most of the homes in Santiago did not have central heating. I never sleep with long pajama pants, but I was layering up my first few nights here.
The Chileans use what are called “estufas,” which are propane-heated stoves. Though they smell a little gassy, they emit some warmth.
As the days pass, however, and it only continues to get warmer, I see why there really is no need for central heating. Most of the time here in Chile, it stays pretty warm.
The showers also operate quite differently than those in the States because they do not heat up automatically. Chileans use what are called “calefonts,” which are gas heaters, usually in the kitchen, which must be lit with a large button before getting in the shower.
Being tasked with learning how to survive here the second week was a little stressful, especially because I’ve never lived in a Spanish-speaking country or a huge city before. It’s pretty amazing that I’ve survived this long.
I can navigate the extensive metro system, find my classes at La Católica, make my way around the city, go on hiking trips, visit wineries and order my food, all complemented by the constant presence of the Spanish language.
As my emotions continue to churn, one minute I’m panicking and missing everyone back home, the next I’m excited to be on a new adventure, I’m slowly discovering a balance and realizing that I finally get to tell my own study abroad story.
I get to have the experience of a lifetime, and I get to see and live in a culture completely different from that of the United States.
Though eating at a restaurant here can take two hours, though people will fight you for a spot on the metro, though sometimes I can get completely overwhelmed with living in Santiago, I wouldn’t trade one single moment I’ve spent here for anything.
It really is going to be an amazing time. It will probably change my life. But most importantly, my appreciation for the different ways people live is growing tremendously, and I can’t wait to see what my semester in Chile holds for me.
makholla@indiana.edu
