September 30, 2007
As promised here are days 25 and 26 respectively. This is the third time I’ve updated the blog today…what can I say, it’s a great escape from the stress of what I should be working on.
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 just 35 people attend the wedding, so we were surrounded by the people we truly loved and knew 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.
This weekend, unfortunately, has been all work and no play…aside from one gloriously 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 shouldn’t 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 their deaths suicide pact.
Pictures for today and yesterday to follow, I can’t get them off my camera!
September 27, 2007
Day 24: Blurry picture, don’t care, want to sleep.
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.
Remember how I waited four hours the last time I was at the immigration offices? This time it was five. My experience was as follows:
11:00am: Arrive at immigration offices (Ministerio Interior)
11:00-11:30: Wait in line to get a number for another line.
11:30-11:35: Argue with the lady handing about the numbers which was next pass. The debate was whether I needed to be in the line for Visas or Stamps. She said, “Visas,” and I said, “I already have a visa, I need a stamp on my passport now.” Then she proceeded to notify me that I had to wait in the Visa line because they would give me an “Orden de Pago,” or payment order. I would need to take that payment order to the special bank that works with immigration offices and stand in line there to pay for my visa. Once I had proof of payment, only then could I get the stamp on my visa.
11:30-1:45: Wait outside on the grass outside of La Moneda reading Newsweeks that my mom sent me. This is where I was, it’s quite nice especially now that it’s spring:
1:50: Sprint back to the immigration offices so they don’t lock me out. The doors close at 2.
1:50-3:30: Still waiting
3:35-3:45: I finally had my turn with the lady at the Visas window. She told me that since I was a U.S. citizen we didn’t have to pay for the visa (hallelujah, no waiting in line at the bank and no $80 dollar charge!). But, WTF, why didn’t the lady handing out the numbers know that?!? She’s supposed to send people to the right line, it’s HER JOB. Her only job. I showed her my U.S. passport and my visa papers and she had still said I needed to pay. Anyways, I conversed with the Visa lady who told me that now I could get my passport stamped and I’d be kosher, as long as I had a few pertinent documents…ummm, what documents? I needed proof of activities to be performed in Chile and documents that stated I was able to financially maintain myself. I had the financial documents, of my husband’s salary, because we had needed those to apply for the first part of the visa way back in May, but I carry all my important visa papers around in the same folder. So they just happened to be in there. But, I had nothing stating what I do here in Chile. Was I supposed to have my bosses write a letter stating that I’m online all day long writing stories and answering emails? I wasn’t quite sure what the woman meant.
Think fast Kyle!
“Ummm, I don’t do anything here in Chile. I’m a housewife. So do I need papers to prove that?” Little white lie. What the government doesn’t know doesn’t hurt them. I’m strong believer in tax evasion.
I feel like I’m not a very believable liar, but she bought it. I guess it’s not a stretch. I’ve had lots of people assume that if I married a Chilean, he obviously must be a rich Chilean. I mean, of course, it’s logical…every gringo has boatloads of money and of course we would never marry below us. That is why I married Seba and we now live in a beautiful mansion in the nicest neighborhood in all of Santiago, Estacion Central where there’s the neighborhood delinquents’ graffiti on the door that we don’t bother painting over because we know they’ll just re-do their handiwork the next night.
So anyways, the woman then tells me that I’ll need a notarized document signed by my husband saying that he plans to support me. But she gets a very grave, scared look on her face when she tells me I’ll have to get that and come back tomorrow to wait in the Stamp line to finish up the rest of the paperwork I need. I supposed she seemed frightened because a lot of people probably go ballistic when she tells them that. Then with a conspiratorial beckoning of her finger, she motions me closer.
Government Lady: “Do you have a baby?”
Me, confused: “Perdon???”
Government Lady: “Bring a baby with you, that may help you jump to the front of the line.”
Smile and nod, slowly back away. She’s crazy; she may blow a fuse at any minute.
Ok, now where can I steal a baby?
No, stealing is unnecessary. Seba’s friend’s Opus Dei virgin girlfriend is pregnant. This baby is the next messiah; he/she would definitely get me to the front of the line. Can I wait six months to complete my visa? Nope, I’d be an illegal alien in this country. Again. It’s not the danger/risk of being deported that comes from being illegal that worries me. It’s the fact that to un-illegal yourself you have to stand in all these damn lines again. Alright, bringing a baby is out.
WAIT! I was about to walk out the door when I remembered that I had cajoled the number doler outer into giving me a number for the Stamps line as well, since I still didn’t really believe the lady who said I needed to get a number for the Visas line! Would they have passed that number already? Go back and check…nope. There’s still another hundred numbers before they get to 337. Would these people turn me down because I don’t have the right documents notarized? Oh well, only a hundred numbers is worth waiting to find out if it means I won’t have to come back and wait another five hours the next day.
3:45-4:30: Wait, while the numbers before me get called…and skipped over. By this time too many people have either given up and left or thrown themselves out of the window out of desperation.
4:30: It’s my turn. “I need to get my visa stamped, I have all the papers I need,” I lie nervously. I hand her my envelope full of documents and pray she doesn’t realize that there’s nothing notarized inside.
Government Lady Dos: “What do you do in Chile?”
Me: “Nothing, I’m married.”
Government Lady Dos looks over my papers: “Ok, we don’t need proof of that.”
How convenient! She rifles through all the paperwork again, gives them a second glance again and looks up at me. Oh no! She’s discovered my secret…I’m not notarized!
Government Lady Dos: “Who are you married to?”
Me: “ummm, Senor S.N.L.L.”
Government Lady Dos, impatient now: “Well what’s his nationality?”
me: “He’s Chilean.”
Goverment Lady Dos with eyes widening: “REALLY? How did you two meet?!?”
I tell her the story and suddenly she’s calling over her supervisor asking him to quick run my name through his computer and check. Yep, everything’s good, STAMP, STAMP, sign here, another stamp, sign again. Ok thank you so much, here’s the documentation you need, you can now leave and entry the country freely as well as work if you’d like.
These people take care of their own. I bet you twenty bucks if I had told her I was married to any other nationality she would have told me to come back tomorrow and the next day….and the next day…until I eventually left the country out of hatred for the Chilean immigration system.
4:45: I practically skipped out the door! I was so happy to be done with paperwork and waiting and long lines and government employees! I got everything over with and I didn’t even need to steal a baby to do it. Then I glanced at the documents she had handed to me on my way out.
YOU HAVE THIRTY DAYS TO:
1. Register with the International Police. You will then be given documentation to apply for Chilean ID.
2. Apply for your Chilean ID at the Registro Civil.
FAILURE TO DO SO WILL RESULT IN BLAH BLAH BLAH LOTS OF BAD STUFF.
So I have to go wait in line at Policia Internacional which is not as bad as immigration services but it’s still horrible. There they’ll give me more paperwork in order to permit me to get my Chilean ID and I’ll need to go stand in line at the Registro Civil, which is even worse than Immigration Services. OMG, by the time I’m done with all this crap we’ll be ready to leave for our trip around the world.
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- @dregonzrob, hahaha, eating wall paper, that's a new one. Dog whisperer dato coming your way :)
- @lanapuckett, when we get back I'll have to introduce you to @gabrielrodriguez, @sebamilla and @sebastiankaulen!
- @dregonzrob, you need the dog whisperer!!!
- Brian McBride is announcing his retirement from the game today. He will go down in history for me as my favorite U.S. player ever. LOVE him.
- Caroline and Tommy should probably stop being this hot or somebody's going to catch on fire. http://tinyurl.com/2feozcy
- Writing w/ @imnotobsessed tomorrow early! Love catching people up on their daily dose of gossip and I <3 @inosherry, my online co-worker :)
