Chilean men--or lack thereof

This post is part of a multi-blog blog (like that? an English teacher using a made-up word as both a noun and a verb in one sentence?). Essentially there are masses of us gringos blogging away here in Chile (there it is again). Why? Inexplicable. Maybe it's because you can't throw a stone here (if you were inclined to) without hitting one of Pablo Neruda's houses. Or maybe we're all just exhibitionists. Can't really say. I for one was entirely against the concept when I moved here (see post numero uno for proof). I like to write, though, and as I seemed unable to put pen to paper without going on for pages about emotional ups and downs, I figured measures needed to be taken to ensure that I would have some writing of value to represent my Chilean Years (as the book of my life will label them).

That's fab, Meredith, you may be thinking, but what's this multi-blog business? Or, you may be thinking, are you capable of writing a sentence without a parentheses in it?

To the point. A woman who writes a really interesting blog in Santiago has organized a project of having various Chile bloggers writing on the same subject all at once, then inter-linking the results. I think this could yield some really interesting results, so I'm jumping in and hoping to see more of this in the future. You can check out the other posts through her blog.

The topic for this particular post was set as "Chilean men." I sat down to think about what I had to add to this discussion, at first I thought, "not much."

I slowly realized though that that, in and of itself, is a bit of an oddity.

I came to Chile alone. I've been here for over six months and I am single. None of this is particularly shocking to me, other than the fact that I've managed to avoid starting a pointless relationship simply out of boredom (a vice of mine). Everyone else in the country, though, seems to be completely blindsided by my manless-ness.

It is apparently very difficult to stay single in this country. Walk into any park and you are in danger of tripping over a tangled couple. When my students talk about themselves, if there is a girlfriend or a boyfriend in the picture, you know about it by sentence number two, because every free time activity involves him or her. (sample conversation: Me: "What did you do last weekend?" Student: "I went to visit my boyfriend. I watched a movie with my boyfriend. I went walking with my boyfriend....") People's significant others call them and ask simply, "Where are you?" This is not a simple request for information...this is shorthand for "disclose your location, because I'm coming, and I don't intend to ask what you think about that because we are dating and therefore you want me present at every moment." Basically, codependency, like awkward, is not a word that would make sense here. It would translate roughly as "in a relationship."

In a climate like this, it makes sense that everyone who is not in a relationship tends to be actively seeking one with the intentness of a job hunter. I once had someone explain to me that he had recently ended a two year relationship, but he was ready to get back on the market because it had been over two weeks since the big break up. Plenty of alone time to think things over.

So when I say that I'm not really looking because I "recently ended a relationship," and then am pushed into disclosing that "recently" means six or seven months ago, people just think I'm out of my mind.

I should mention that one of the myriad of benefits of living in a machisto culture is that everyone I meet, particularly men, asks about my relationship status on first encounter. Even if I work with them. Even if I work for them, for that matter, or if I am their teacher. So this topic comes up pretty frequently.

Explaining that I am a disaster in the Spanish language (see: title bar of this blog) doesn't help me out much either. In the roughly translated words of one well-meaning interrogator (with whom I have a professional relationship which would have precluded this conversation in other countries): "What are you talking about?! You're very pretty! You don't need to be able to speak well!"

I actually prefer to be able to communicate with romantic partners, thanks. I'll leave my response at that because I'm sure you can imagine what the rest of it would be.

I had one private lesson that pretty much consisted of me spending 90 minutes, three times a week, explaining all of the ins and outs of my relationship status. No joke. I'd tell him to practice asking questions in the simple past, and the first one he'd come up with would be, "Why did you break up with your ex-boyfriend?"

The unintelligible quality of my single status comes from two main angles, as I see it. First, I'm 25, which means I should be husband-hunting based on common logic. A friend told me that she was recently reading a women's magazine which had conducted a survey in which Chilean women were asked what they were most afraid of. One of the top ten was not getting married. So when people hear that I'm not dating anyone, they go into a bit of empathetic panic. Some people I've talked to seem to equate my current state of mind as the equivalent of a near-suicidal giving-up on life.

Secondly, I'm a gringa. Living in Chile. But not because I am dating or married to a Chilean man. I've touched on this before: this is totally incomprehensible to 99% of people that I meet. To be fair, I myself know very few foreign women who are living in Chile for reasons other than a Chilean partner. Many came for other reasons, but stayed for a relationship. So the fact that I don't have a departure date OR a boyfriend is just an unreal combination.

Well, Chile, get used to it. I spent a whole bunch of years being completely undiscerning in my choice of men. The old criteria was pretty much: you're here, you like me, let's date. In short, when I was living in the United States, I dated like a Chilean. Now that I'm in Chile, I am planning to be picky and date like a gringa.

San Fernando: The City Where Random Blog Posts Are Born

So I am currently cooling my heels in the much-chillier-than-Valpo, VI region city of San Fernando. I am in an internet cafe rocking out to 99 Red Balloons (English, not German, version). Why am I doing this? (are you impressed by my ability to read your thoughts, imaginary blog reader?)

I am doing this because this weekend I had a mandatory meeting in Pichilemu. I was placed in my Trabajo Numero Uno by a US-based NGO. I am actually a volunteer in said Trabajo, so this was my Mid-Service....Meeting. Generally I talked way too much about teaching, culture, and Chile, and I bitched and moaned a bunch....so, it was a lot like this blog. I also, though, was able to eat burritos and walk on the beach with 17 people to whom I clung like Glad Wrap during the terrifying days of February in Santiago (otherwise known as "What-Am-I-Doing-Here? Month"). So it was a pleasant, if somewhat odd, experience. Former Only Friend Elisa (former applying to the "only" bit, not the "friend" bit) is currently being visited by her parents so I was the sole Valpo representative. Which meant that most of what I said was tangential to the main points of the conversation. In that way it was also somewhat like this blog, and like me in general.

Pichilemu is a really pleasant town on the water. It's famous for surfing at Punto de Lobos, and as such it has a very interesting vibe. Small town Chile meets surfer-world, with which I am more than a little acquainted (by proxy). So basically Rip Curl and Dakine stickers all over places with names like "Donde Jhonny" and "El Tio de los Empanadas." Also, surf-widow mini-skirts in display windows alongside your average small-store-with-an-unpredictable-assortment-of-food-items-booze-and-small-electronics. A group of us tried to walk out to Punto de Lobos, but we didn't have enough time. The rest of the beach was still gorgeous, though.

Only problem (well, biggest problem): there are no buses that go from Valparaíso to Pichilemu. A transfer is necessary, but, this being Chile, it is randomly Not Possible to purchase both of these tickets in Valpo. It is also, conveniently, Not Possible to buy return tickets in Valpo. And this is a three day weekend, which means the entire country is getting on buses to go somewhere or other.

On Friday, then, I headed off to Santiago in a pouring monsoon of a rainstorm, plastic bags around all of my possesions and borrowed boots on my feet. Yes, I strand people in rainstorms without their rainboots because I am too disorganized to have bought my own. Moving along. I was rather irritable about this, because I had no way of knowing whether I would in fact be able to get a seat on a bus to Pichilemu, or whether I was taking a random puddle-jump to Santiago and back. Luckily, there was a bus. Unluckily, there are two routes: the 3 hour route, and the 5 hour route. Guess which one our poor Spanish speaker chanced onto?

I arrived in Pichilemu after everything was closed, so I was unable to buy a return ticket. The next day, I learned that the only buses going back to Santiago that had seats available would most likely get me there too late to get back to Valpo. And I have 5 classes tomorrow.

Enter Awesome New Friend Kacy and Not-Yet-Met-But-Undoubtedly-Awesome Boyfriend of Kacy. These folks made a major trek down to Pucon this weekend (many many hours south of Valpo, nine or ten I believe). They agreed to pick me up en route, something for which I am extremely grateful. So I bought a ticket from Pichilemu to San Fernando, a town which sits conveniently along the highway.

Thanks to a bus ticket vendor who has most likely never made the trip to the big SF, I ended up here 3 hours early. So, here I am. It being dark out, I can't comment on the town. The bus station is cold and boring, as they tend to be, but equipped with an internet cafe, a major blessing.

And that, dear reader, is why this post exists. Call it a meta-post.

More on Pichilemu some other time.

Et tu, Brute?

Ok. So I plan on soon adding several interesting posts about various interesting things in the near future. In the meantime, however, a student who never comes to class has taken it upon himself to complain about me to my boss. This might seem to be breaking my "no-self-centered-rambling" rule....and it is, kind of....but there's also a cultural factor here.

People here don't like to be rude....it's a well-observed cultural trait (by outsiders and Chilenos alike) that they will avoid saying "no" at all costs, even if that entails making plans and then standing people up. By the same token, it seems that discussing my lesson plans with me would be rude, but going over my head and putting my job in jeapordy is not. This is the awkward logic of Chileno Etiquette. They are extremely concered with courtesy (I've heard older people complain that this is no longer the case, but I still find that people here are far more politeness-prone than at home). (Not that anyone has every accused Northeasterners of being overly polite). However, the etiquette system here often seems to be riddled with side effects.

Case in point: I have stated multiple times throughout this course that I welcome input from students. And I do, particularly in these small classes--it is impossible to know which types of lessons work best if you receive no feedback. No one, including my 'Brutus,' has taken me up on this. If he had (during one of his brief appearances), I could have altered my class to address his concerns and emphasize his particular needs. Instead, I now have to prove to my upset boss that I am a competent teacher and do not deserve to be sacked. I also have to teach my accuser tonight without mentioning the fact that I feel capable of saying some very unkind things just at this moment.

So I am only left to conclude that in Chile, offering constructive criticism is A Very Bad Thing. Wreaking havoc in the professional life of your teacher, however, is Par For The Course.

All his faults observed,
Set in a note-book, learn’d, and conn’d by rote.
(Shakespeare, Julius Caesar, IV.III.92)

There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats;
For I am armed so strong in honesty
That they pass by me as the idle wind,
Which I respect not. (IV.III.67)

Roman tragedy, English teaching, you know, similar stuff.

NOW! Read this post ABSOLUTELY FREE!

So I've picked up a new employment, which has become sort of a habit of mine. As with every other job I've been offered in Chile (claro), it is another version of Speaking English Professionally. In this case, I am writing and editing copy for a product's website.

It's a product made in Chile and sold in the US, online only. So essentially it's a direct marketing gig. Not generally my thing, but I can definitely use the web experience--lack of web design has been a bit of a roadblock so far, as I'm generally applying for jobs with a description like:

"Non-profit social services organization seeks General Literate Human Being with Opposable Thumbs. Duties include grant writing, copy writing, advertising, document production, initiative development, client outreach, community outreach, graphic design, designing and maintaining the organization's website, editing anything that manages to get written down, taking meeting minutes, filing things, helping the development guy when his workload explodes, helping the finance woman when her workload explodes, helping anyone at any time who has too much to do, answering the phone, making coffee, ordering office supplies, picking people up at the airport, watering the plants, choosing art for the hallway, and organizing disorganized things/people. Trilingual English, Spanish, and Chinese preferred. Salary minimum wage plus a train pass, and sometimes bagels in the morning."

So, that's my motivation (you can see why, I'm sure).

As a result, I am finding myself dealing with a side of the business world I really never intended to be involved with. It's kind of the opposite of educational not-for-profit....gloss-it-over-for-pure-profit. My training so far has involved reading lots of websites, articles, and books about marketing. They have me a bit baffled.

Some are schlocky as hell. Some are more refined. Some actually come off as intelligent. But there is one basic thing in common. The person who is writing is explaining their theory for how to sell a product or idea, generally through coercion, manipulation, use of very specific tactics, and very calculated packaging of information. Ok. That's sales, I expected as much. However, never having actually read anything about sales before, I've been finding one thing incredibly amusing. Even as the writer is explaining to you how to dupe people, he or she is using the exact same method to dupe you.

Shamelessly, generally. For instance, in one book they recommend using little lists to "engage your audience." "What do these words have in common: Plants, People, Our Fabulous Product, Whatever." Then, about two chapters later, the authors throw one of said lists into their spiel. Hmm.

In that case, at least, it might simply be a reinforcement tactic. Perhaps they are assuming the reader is intelligent and will pick up on it. However, there was another one that really had my eyebrows through my hairline. This was an online-purchased (no, not by me), "Special Edition Report" about some phrase that sounded business-y but upon inspection had no actual meaning. The whole thing was completely over-the-top. What was really fabulous, though, was that they spent a whole section explaining how your newsletter should be called a "service," subscribers or clients should always be "members," lectures and such are "workshops," and so on. They also had a long bit about how every single possible "benefit and gain" from your product should be listed in bullet point format so as to give the impression of being incredibly valuable.

They finish off their "absolutely free special report" by inviting you to become an actual "member" of their "valuable online service," mention some very excellent "workshops" that you can attend, and then provide a page and a half of bullet pointed "benefits and gains."

So. Now, obviously, there is some value in these schemes. I recognize that we, as consumers, are scarily susceptible. However, when you present me with a document that is packaged as breaking news, then tell me 80% common sense, 10% silliness, and 10% new information--while explaining to me in detail how exactly you are doing so--I am not going to be overly impressed. This has led me to believe that marketing may be a self-perpetuating loop. People who work in marketing have complete faith in their methods, therefore they are completely susceptible to other people's methods, and therefore they are all running around selling and buying marketing methods to and from each other.

I'm imagining walking into the multimillion dollar house of one of these "gurus," as they call themselves, to find it filled to the brim with slicer-dicers, handy-reachers, superdurapastes, indestructible lawn tools, and a general panopoly of late-night infomercial products.

"It's amazing!" they'll tell me. "It has fully 32 different benefits! It boils pasta, it boils carrots, it boils broccoli....."