Kyle Hepp

September 30, 2007

Brought to you by Sunday Scribblings: Write about a powerful feeling.

S. and I had just gotten married in a low key ceremony in a beautiful outdoor patio of a restaurant. We had 35 people attend the wedding, so we were surrounded by the people we truly loved and knew they loved us. After the (extremely short) ceremony, we all headed back to another restaurant for the reception. In Chile, it’s customary to do a “champagnazo,” which is a toast with champagne that gives all the wedding guests a chance to say something to the bride and groom if they’d like. My best friend from high school took her turn, my mom spoke, S.’s dad gave a quick speech.

And then my brother stepped into the middle of the circle. He’s a big guy, 6′ and muscular. He commanded the room’s attention. At first he pulled a couple of note cards out of his pocket but as he looked at them and cleared his throat, he quickly crumpled them up and said, “Well, I had a whole speech written down but I’m just going to wing it.” A ripple of laughter went through the crowd. And then he began in earnest:

“When I first heard that my sister had a boyfriend in Chile I wasn’t too happy, especially when I found out his name was Sebastian like in the Little Mermaid. I worried that he’d take Kyle away from us and we’d never get a chance to see her. I already missed her when she moved away from college and then she even left the country. But, as soon as I met Seba I figured out that he’s a good guy and he makes her happy, so it’s alright if they stay in Chile.

Kyle, I’ve looked up to you since I can remember. I guess since the day I was born. You’ve always been able to do everything you want to do. I know that Seba is the right guy for you because he’s going to help you achieve your dreams. Together you two can do anything.”

His voice cracked and his eyes were bright. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room. Even my brother was about to cry, but right at that moment the wedding organizers brought the band out. The band started playing typical Chilean music, and everyone clapped along. My brother just went right to the center of the circle and started doing his own imitation of typical latin dances-so basically he was just doing the grapevine but with some hip movement action thrown in there for good measure. Everyone was cracking up!

That was a powerful moment to me for a few reasons. First of all, I never realized that my brother really had looked up to me for his whole life. And I’m glad I didn’t know that before because I could’ve used my power for evil and not for good. And the second thing about that part of our wedding that felt so powerful to me, was the fact that even though my brother was speaking in English and half the room were Spanish speakers only, even they were crying and laughing along with him. Power is emotions transcending language barriers.

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This weekend, unfortunately, has been all work and no play…aside from one glorious bicycle outing. Yesterday, I decided that I needed a break from the endless hours spent in front of the computer. The day was beautiful so Seba and I headed out on our bikes. We hadn’t been out bike riding for a while (winter just ended here)…and I had totally forgotten how dangerous the Santiago city streets can be!

In neighborhoods like mine (a.k.a. poor) the sidewalks are so full of ginormous holes or places where the concrete has buckled and rises up in huge, uneven bumps, that it’s physically impossible to ride over them. It’d be like mountain biking on paths made of cement. This means in many places we have to ride in the street. Have I mentioned that Santiago drivers are crazy? Though they are quite orderly compared to many of their South American counterparts. Once while in Argentina, my taxi driver turned down a street into oncoming traffic. When I shouted “You’re going the wrong way down a one way street!” he didn’t respond like I thought he would. Instead of turning down a side street, or reversing the short distance to be back on the street we had just turned off of, he accelerated to dodge in and out of the cars coming at us, “Well then we better get out of here quick!”

No, things in Chile aren’t that bad…but there’s still the little issues of lanes. Now, I see the white lines on the street, but the drivers don’t appear to know what they mean. The general rule seems to be that there are as many lanes as there are cars that can fit in the road. So if you’re riding your bike out there in that jungle it can be terrifying. Autos don’t exactly give you a wide berth when they fly by so close that you get hit with gravel from their spinning tires.

But, let’s talk about signage. That’s what really gets me. Even being on a lane specially marked for bicycles, with a crosswalk sign that actually has a little green and red stick figure riding his bike, you’re still in danger. When the bicycle crosswalk turned green, we started crossing…but ooooooh, wait! Somebody else has a green light too! The truck that has a left hand turn arrow directly into our bike path. It’s seriously like a death trap for cyclists, set up to warn Santiago bikers that they better not dare go any farther.

My conclusion — Santiago is not for lovers on romantic bike rides. Santiago is for lovers who have made a ride-to-our-death suicide pact.

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September 27, 2007

Gems from my husband:

Me: My knees are really swollen, they hurt.
S: Maybe you should go to a doctor.
Me: I don’t want to, they’re just going to do tests and never figure out what’s wrong, I’ve been through this before.
S: Actually they’ll probably just cut everything off from the waist down.
Me: But my thighs and my vagina don’t hurt, just my knees.
S: We do things different down here in Chile, mi amor.

Me: How come you didn’t bring me a chocolate today?
S: Because I got dropped off in front of the house. I didn’t want to walk a whole block away just for your stupid chocolate.
Me: I see. So romance is all about convenience for you?
S (who is a Construction Project Manager): No, if that were true I’d bring you home gifts of bags of dry concrete, jackhammers and workboots.

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