Kyle Hepp

November 10, 2007

I was so incredibly excited to get an email from a friend with this picture attached. My name is Kyle Racine so I think it’s pretty fricken sweet that there is a sign in Wisconsin that says K. Racine. I’ve been to Racine, WI before since my mom has relatives there and that’s how I got my middle name, but I never saw a sign with my first initial too!

Aside from the fact that it’s just awesome that a street sign with my name on it exists, it feels good to know that someone remembers me.

I think the hardest part of being an expat is being away from your friends and family and that lingering feeling that some, a lot of them are slowly forgetting you. When you leave your hometown you know that life will go on without you but at the same time, it’s still a punch in the gut when you get those pictures from that first wedding you couldn’t attend. And I’m sure in a few years the kids will start to arrive and it will be even harder not to be there for that huge event in the lives of people that were very important to me when I was younger.

As an expat you send emails to friends when you feel lonely and you don’t always get a response. The truth is that nobody really understands what it’s like living in a foreign country permanently unless they’ve done it themselves. Logically you know if people don’t respond, it’s not because they don’t love you but because they are busy. It happens to me too, this week I haven’t answered a single email because of lack of time. But in your heart you just are hoping that your friends miss you like you miss them. They probably don’t though, because when you move abroad you leave them all behind and you have nobody familiar. But they all still have each other, they aren’t alone like you are.

And the people that you do end up keeping in touch with are sometimes really surprising. Like my friend who sent me the email with this photo…were we best of friends in high school? No, we were friendly acquaintances who hung out in the same group. But since I’ve been away we’ve kept in touch more than I have with some people who were my “best friends” in high school. When I brought S. back to the U.S. my friend who sent me this picture took more time than anybody else to get to know S. and showed him the one event that S. still talks about to this day…his visit to the fire station. It was one of the big highlights of the S. Comes to the U.S. tour.

I’m really grateful for people who make the effort to stay in touch because I know how hard it is.

Thank you

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November 7, 2007

My family is coming down in a little over a month…and I can’t wait!!! My mom, brother, stepdad, stepbrother and stepsister will all be making the trek down to see me over Christmas time.

I have to admit that I was kind of surprised to hear they were all coming. I originally asked my mom if I paid for half her ticket, could she make the visit because I really wanted some company here with me over the holidays. I would’ve offered to pay for everybody else’s tickets too but unfortunately we don’t have a money tree growing in our patio.This will be my fourth Christmas in Chile and while I love S.’s family, I love mine more (which, by the way, if I lived next door to my family in the U.S. I’d probably love S’s family more ). S. doesn’t care at all where we are for Christmas, he’s not as family oriented as I am. Circumstances have always dictated that we are in Chile, not the typical couples fight over whose in-laws deserve a visit the most.

But, having people come visit does stress me out. I’ll admit it. I don’t like being a hostess. That feeling of being responsible for everybody’s happiness is a big burden and I’m never sure if I’ll be able to pull it off! Fortunately for me, we have decided that while the fam is here we’ll take a trip to Pucon, in the south of Chile and climb one of the active volcanoes that’s down there. I feel good about that. A live volcano never disappoints. The trip up is about a 4-5 hour hike. It’s like being on a stairmaster the whole time. I didn’t struggle too much last time I went but the day after I could barely walk. I needed assistance just to sit down on the toilet!

So that’s what is on my mind these days…I’m excited to spend Christmas with mi familia

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November 6, 2007

Yesterday, I was sitting outside tanning myself. And by tanning I mean, first I bathed myself in SPF 60 since I’m not big on skin cancer, then I put on my bathing suit, went outside, sat in a chair for 5 minutes in the sun and then started crying because I was too hot. That’s how I roll. Anyways, what I was really doing was trying to gear myself up for my daily run. It’s a mental battle. And I don’t mean getting myself to exercise. Fortunately for me I really like exercising. The hard part is just going out on the streets here where I know I’m going to get harassed. It’s annoying and after two and a half years it’s gotten old.

Fortunately I have a few rights.

If I am walking down the street minding my own business and you scream something obscene at me, I have the right to cuss you out.

I always walk with my hat almost totally covering my eyes and headphones in so I can’t hear most of the comments thrown my way but a few weeks ago I was walking and there was a guy a few feet ahead of me who purposely put himself in my path and started making lewd gestures and was trying harder than most to get my attention. I turned off my headphones so I could hear whatever he had to say and respond to him. When I got closer he sneered, “aaah, si, m’hijita rica.” I responded, “viejo culiado asqueroso.” A loose translation of our conversation would be that he called med something like “hot mama,” and I told him he was a “fucking digusting old man.” It was really just the gestures that set me off and made me feel like I needed to retaliate.

Anyways, he flipped out when I said that. I guess he didn’t like it when the tables were turned. He started screaming at me telling me I needed to learn some respect and calling me a slut, “Asi no me puedes faltar respeto maraca culiada!!!” etc. So of course that got me going even more, “Eres tu, el que anda joteando a las minas en la calle, haciendo gestos obsecenos y portantandote como un nino caliente de 14 anos…y TU me quieres hablar a MI del respeto??? Loco culiado, ojala que se muera pronto toda tu generacion machista.” That means something like, “You’re the one who’s harassing girls on the street, making obscene gestures and acting like a horny 14 year old boy…and YOU want to talk to ME about respect? Fucking crazy, I hope your whole macho generation dies off soon.” Of course, by that point he wasn’t even listening to me anymore because he was still screaming and so was I, so it was a pretty pointless conversation. I crossed the street and went into my park and when I left I made sure he wasn’t there before I walked home.

So anyways, the point is, if you’re a guy and you say something gross to me I have the right to say whatever the fuck I want to you in retaliation. If you want to talk to me about respect…fuck off.

And my other right has to do more with the women of the country. If you are walking down the middle of the sidewalk and you have two feet of room on both sides, but you don’t move to either side to let me pass, no, I won’t step onto the grass to let you pass either. If you’re walking down the middle and you don’t move I will bump into you and throw a little shoulder check into it. Then don’t turn around and give me the stink eye…bitch, you’re the one trying to take up all 5 feet of sidewalk. Learn how to share. I have a right to the sidewalk too and I will claim that right even if you’re walking straight down the middle.

Oddly enough, it’s only the women who do that. S. says that it’s just something that Chilean women have always done, they won’t move out of the way for anyone even if they have space. So I can play their game too.

I have to put myself into aggressive mode before I go out every day. I don’t like it. Although it may make for good adrenaline when I run, I’d rather have my run be one of the relaxing parts of my day. Unfortunately that seems impossible here. Last week I was in the middle of the street, waiting on the median to cross and somebody threw a cup of water in my face as he drove by and screamed, “Griiiiiiiiiiiingaaaaaaaaaaaa.” That was just fantastic because I love running when my shirt is soaking wet. It was just like in the Weather Man where people throw things out their cars at Nicholas Cage. I didn’t even move or react though because I figured if I did then the perpetrator would think it was a funny prank and might do it again to somebody else.

So those are some of my frustrations in this country. I just wish I could blend in and be able to go places tranquilamente.

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