2008 August | Kyle Hepp

August 31, 2008

The catcalls, the hissing, the blowing kisses, the marriage proposals…Gringas and Chilenas alike are tortured on the streets by the macho little boys who think women are nothing more than pieces of meat for them to oggle.

There have actually been debates though, in respected newspapers in this country on whether or not the harassment on the street is harmless. In the comment section, when El Mercurio, I believe it was, wrote an article, many women even commented on how they love the “piropos,” and all women should just enjoy them while they’re still getting them. Honestly, that attitude makes me feel a little sick inside. But, moving on, whether they’re Ok or not isn’t actually the topic I wanted to discuss.

What I wanted to talk about is when it’s appropriate to respond. Emily, as many of you already know, was robbed. This has made her slightly angrier and much more untrusting of this country in general…which in turn has her yelling back insults at any guy who dares make a creepy remark in her direction. Understandable.

This is something I do on occassion as well. No, I don’t respond back to every man who has the nerve to say something slimy, but depending on my mood, who I’m with, and where I am, I often feel the need to tell the guy off too. This has caused me problems a few times, like once when I retaliated to a guy making obscene gestures, we got into a yelling fight on the street and I told him I wanted his entire generation to die.

Some of our other friends say they never do this. One doesn’t live in the best neighborhood and is worried she’ll get into problems too. Another just wears her earphones everywhere she goes, which for the most part, I now do too.

Sometimes, I feel really good after I let a dirtbag have it. And other times I wonder if all that rage is unhealthy. In all honesty I know that one gringa saying, “Fuck off you dirty old man,” doesn’t change much in the grand scheme of things. But, not saying anything ever feels wrong!

When we all got to talking about it, I was actually surprised by most of my girlfriends’ responses. I assumed that all gringas who know enough Spanish to retaliate, do. Turns out, the ones I know usually don’t.

So what are your thoughts on this? To respond, or not to respond, that is the question of the day…

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August 29, 2008

A few nights ago I walked outside and the weather was downright balmy — which is not an adjective frequently heard when describing Santiago. If I had closed my eyes and not breathed (as soon as you take a gulp of fresh air the smog definitely let’s you know right where you are) I could have sworn that I was in Tampa on a winter evening.

Lately I’ve been missing Tampa a LOT — although never in the, “I want to move back there,” way. Just in the, “I wish we weren’t saving all our money and I wasn’t petrified of flying so I could go back and visit more,” way.

If there is one downfall of being an expat, it’s that you will always be missing somewhere or something. That doesn’t mean you’re homesick and crying yourself to sleep every night. It just means that places you’ve previously inhabited and people that you used to know still live on inside you.

If you’re an expat, whether you’re leaving or arriving “home,” (and when you’re an expat the definition of the word home is definitely murky) you’re most likely saying goodbye to someone important in your life — whether it be your husband’s family because you’re leaving his home, your own family and friends because you’re leaving the country you were born in, or maybe just friends you have made in a random place you’ve chosen to set up residency. You’re always leaving behind loved ones and cities with memories whether you’re coming or going. Goodbye is no longer just a word, it’s now the inevitable.

PS. Don’t forget to vote. The topics have been narrowed down with a first round of votes and now we’re doing the second round to decide what we’ll actually write about for our next group blogging experiment a week from today!

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August 28, 2008

Ok, the choices have been narrowed down so go ahead and vote for whatever you want to write about (or want to see us write about) next Friday.

Also, the lovely Florencia just did a very interesting post on Chilean weddings, if you want to check it out…and hopefully she’ll be able to participate in our group blogging topic for next Friday. It’s always good to hear the Chilean perspective on what we’re talking abotu!

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August 26, 2008

With the Olympic games coming to a close and Michelle Obama’s incredibly moving speech at the Democratic Convention (watched it today, cried like a baby…see if you can resist doing the same) U.S. patriotism is in the air.

Jayna just posted on why she loves the Oh-lympics — because the contingent of athletes shows off just how diverse a nation we truly are. I couldn’t agree more. That’s definitely an aspect of my country that I really ache for sometimes.

One day while watching the Games, S. tried to get me riled up and started heckling me because the U.S. was behind in the medal count. I snidely replied, “Four little words, baby. Michael mother-effing Phelps. We don’t need anybody else…BOO YA!”

Ok, so maybe the “BOO YA,” at the end was a little unnecessary. Out pops my U.S.A.’ian arrogance — or is it sense of pride? The two are easily confused, or maybe interchangeable.

Don’t get me wrong, the stereotype of the arrogant American bastard is very much alive and kicking, and I hate it. But, I do long for that certain je ne sais quoi that many people from my country seem to have. My mom would probably call it a “can do attitude.” It’s a sense of you-just-can’t-get-us-down.

Some might call it a superiority complex, and when done wrong, I think that’s exactly what it is. But in most people, I believe it’s more of a sense of optimism than anything else.

I love that about “mi gente,” and I miss it.

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Alright, time to vote on the next group blogging post, which will be, not this Friday, next. I would like to vote and choose the topic now so I can start thinking about my post. Unlike some of you, I can’t just whip something up at the last minute. I’m a nerd and my blogging is all carefully calculated.

This list is pretty long so maybe we can use this poll to narrow it down to three or four topics and then do another poll to choose between those. Also, obviously we can continue group blogging for as long as everybody still likes the idea so I think we’ll have plenty of time to get to most of these topics!

If for some reason I didn’t put your topic in there, I’m sorry. I’ll have to put them in the poll for next time. I may have missed a few because topic suggestions were spread out in the comments over quite a few posts. Also if the topic says, Chilean something, feel free to substitute Ecuadorian something or U.S. something or whatever to relate the topic you’re living so you can participate from anywhere!

Please vote for only topic even though I think it allows you to choose multiple answers. I’m technologically retarded and couldn’t figure out how to change that.

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August 24, 2008

There are a lot of reason why I really love having a Papito but so far here are a few that top my list.

The other day while I was out walking her, a couple stopped to ask me for directions. MISTAAAAAAAAKE, never ask the blond girl, people! I had no idea. But what I did have was a big full of hot steaming poop. It’s always fun to talk to people when you’re carrying around shit.

I love projecting all the repressed anger I have built up at my parents for saddling me with the boy’s name, Kyle, onto my dog by calling her Little Daddy in Spanish.

Speaking of how awesome her name is, I really enjoy that calling her Papito gives me a reason to walk around the streets of Santiago singing “Papi, Papiiii, Papi Chulo, Papi Papi Papi, ven a mi!“

Because being covered in dog hair is the new black this season. Fur is IN!

It’s simultaneously sweet and repulsive when she licks my face with her doggy breath. I love the girl but we seriously need to buy her some Altoids or something because it smells like something dead is rotting inside inside her mouth.

Even when I reason with her and ask her to wait at the apartment just 10 minutes while I go buy something from the supermarket, she still cries at the door when I leave. It breaks my heart, but I can’t take her with me because I can’t leave her tied outside while I run in like a lot of people do with their dogs — Papi will chew through her leash in a heartbeat, wander away and most likely end up dodging oncoming traffic because she’s really not the street dog she’s cracked up to be. She apparently never learned that speeding cars + puppy in the middle of the road = death. But hey, if you can dodge traffic, you can dodge balls, right?

When big dogs come to try and eat Papito while we’re out on her walk, I pick her up to try and protect her. The last time a giant angry puppy came our way he started growling at her. I picked her up and she was so scared she tried to scale my body like a totem pole. She stepped on the collar of my shirt, pulling it all the way down. We were next to a playground. I flashed like three little kids under the age of 4. Whoops! Hope they’ve had the birds and the bees talk already.

Also, the other thing I wanted to talk about on this post, was our great group blogging topic on Friday. What did you guys think? My thoughts were that I absolutely loved reading the posts. I liked leaving the topic quite broad because it was fun to see where everybody took it. I think it’s a good way for all of us to see other people’s perspectives on one subject. I even internet met some new Chile bloggers, so that was exciting, plus it was a good way for all of us to share traffic and give each other lots of link love.

So what’s next? Would you be interested in doing this again (or for those of you who didn’t partake in the fun, ever)? If so, how often would you want to do it…once a week, once a month? A few suggestions for more topics were: Chilean women, favorite vacation spots in Chile and favorite spots to eat or go out in Chile. Leave some feedback and let me know what you think about the whole group blogging thing.

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August 23, 2008

Today is Emily’s birthday! Although, given the circumstances, saying the words, “Happy Birthday,” doesn’t feel quite appropriate. Emily’s entire apartment was burglarized last night. To say she’s having a rough day would be an understatement. So please, go and leave her some love and support.

I want to weigh in on the subject. This is the third gringa I know who has had her apartment targeted, where it seems too calculated to be random. The first was definitely an inside job, as her building has several locked gates and doors. She had deadbolts and all kinds of locks on her door but it was hatcheted down, and the neighbors said, “We didn’t hear a thing.” The second, I know very little about, as the girl was a friend of a friend, but it was a similar situation, also in a building with no doorman, but with gates and locks, so someone would have had to have a key to get the thieves in. Her door was forced though, as she didn’t have any extra security locks. Again, just like in the first robbery, she was the only apartment robbed in her whole building. In both situations someone obviously knew where the gringas lived and figured they would have more valuables, so they were targeted. In Emily’s situation, as there have been three other instances of apartments being broken into recently, she may or may not have been targeted for bring a gringa. Or maybe it was just random who knows.

This makes me so furious. Furious doesn’t even begin to describe it, actually. I HATE that gringas are targeted because we are all assumed to be rich. Some gringas may be rich. So are some Chileans. But, a lot of us are living in this country, working alongside Chileans, making the same miserable salaries as the Chileans, or our husbands are making the same miserable Chilean salaries.

I won’t get into the social aspects of people who steal. Yes, I do understand that circumstances drive people to rob. Yes, I (sort of) understand that some people were never taught that stealing as wrong, they were taught that stealing is a way of life. I know not everybody was born with the same opportunities. That is absolutely no excuse.

Theft is always unfair. Taking away possessions that other people have worked for is unfair. At least if it’s random you know it was just bad luck and it could have happened to anybody. But, to know that because of the country you’re from, you must be rich and therefore little flaite Chileans seem to feel that they have a right to rob you is outrageously infuriating.

PS. If you still want to partcipate in the Chilean Men group blogging topic, go for it. Just leave me a comment on the post and I’ll put your link up!

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August 21, 2008

We are trying a little something new and are doing a group blogging session on one topic. This week we’re writing about Chilean men. Here is a list of links of those who have participated so far — leave me a comment if you already posted and I haven’t put your link up yet! I’m not reading these until I write my own post as I don’t want to be influenced by what everybody else has to say! I’d rather wait to see if we have similar or very differing opinions on the subject. Oh, and anyone who has anything to say about Chilean men or foreign men in general is welcome to participate.

*Edited to add — So far I think everyone who has commented has been updated on this list. So read away and let’s talk. I have LOVED all these great posts. Everybody took a different angle, but everybody hit the nail on the head. And some of the entries have been absolutely hilarious!

Chilean men. Ahhhh, Chilean men. They are the reason nearly every woman I am close with is in this country. Just last night I saw a blip on the news about a French woman who came to Santiago as a performer in Cirque du Soleil. A group of Chilean was doing a backstage tour and one of them took the time to introduce himself to her. This woman was still in costume and he called her “La payasita mas bella que he visto,” or the most beautiful clown he’s ever seen. She fell in love in that one second. She stayed. They lived happily ever after. The end.

That seems to be a frequent scenario with Chilean men. They are a special breed of the opposite sex — in general, much less handsome than the Argentines, way worse dancers than the Venezuelans or Brazilians, not as talented at smooth talking as the Venezuelans* — yet, so incredibly good at making women fall in love with them.

I’m not just talking about making gringas fall in love with them either. These men know how to get women of any nationality to fall under their charm. Chilenas are just as susceptible as foreigners. It’s not just the sweet broken English that gets the ladies swooning. Even their mother’s are madly in love with them, and I mean MADLY in love! It’s actually kind of creepy sometimes, but in a sweet way. The term “Mama’s boy,” doesn’t even begin to describe the relationship that most guys here I know have with their madres.

Dating a Chilean man, in my personal experience, was sheer heaven compared to going out with American men. Maybe that’s because S. is the guy for me and behaved as such from the beginning — or maybe it’s because Chilean men truly know how to treat their significant other — I’ll (hopefully) never know. This strange breed of man, with his mullet and his fanny pack, will soon have you overlooking fashion blunders as he hangs on to your every word, treats you with respect, and opens up to you about his *GASP* feelings.

As anyone who knows S. in the real life has probably realized, he’s not a man of many words. In fact, when a friend who knows he’s a big dog person wondered why he didn’t seem more excited when talking about Papito, obviously the answer is — he can barely show his love for me in public — how would he be able to admit he has a soft spot for a dog to someone he doesn’t know very well? Yet, although S. and I are not the mushy gushy type by a looooong stretch, he doesn’t mince words if he wants to tell me he appreciates me and loves me. If we have a problem he’s happy to communicate about his feelings in a way that no man in the States I know ever has or ever will do.

Unlike some gringo guys, he doesn’t think that putting actual planning/effort/sentiment into a relationship makes him less of a man. He’s happy anytime I’m happy. And from what I hear, all Chileans, or at least all Chileans worth keeping a gringa in Chile for, are like that.

Yes, of course there are certain bad qualities that I’ve heard Chilean men have. Some are known to be extremely machista — although I think this is a dying trend, as all the gringas I know are with very progressive men, who are in many cases, like mine, even quite a bit feminist. And then there are the men who catcall. For me piropos are literally the one thing that if eradicated would make living permanently in this country a possibility. But, the fact that not a single day (in which I leave my house, of course) can pass without some old wrinkly jackass who farts dust hissing, “M’hijita rica, ssssssss,” in my ear like the biggest fucking creep in the entire world, makes me want to strap a backpack with all my things on it and walk to Antartica where I’ll live in an igloo and only leave if the penguins promise not to harass. Again, also like the machista thing, I think this may be generational, as it really does seem to be either very old men, or else younger guys who many times appear to be from a lower social class. It’s rare that I’ll walk by a university and a dude will say something truly disgusting.

If there’s one thing I love about this country, you could definitely say it’s the men. Although, maybe I should change that to “the man,” since I only have experience with one specific Chilean (after going through hell and back, I was on a bit of a man ban before I met S. I wanted nothing to do with anyone with a penis). But anyways, I married that one specific Chilean so I guess you could say that actions speak louder than anything else I could type in this post.

*Yes, I realize these things do not pertain to every single Chilean — some are very handsome (my husband, and all of my friends’ husbands and boyfriends) some are brilliant dancers (definitely not my husband) and some are great smooth talkers (again, not S.). That’s why I said, in general.

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Afterwards, I had cauliflower in my hair, on the floor, everywhere.

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August 20, 2008

I’m making my way through the list of suggested topics from all of you who took the survey. Apparently a lot of you people want S. to be more of a recurring character on the show rather than just a one time guest star. He is a pretty funny guy. Truth be told I could probably do a daily post on ridiculous things he says. But, in general, I try keep our relationship off the blogs because I would never want somebody to google him, somehow find this blog, and use anything that I write against him. After all, he’s not the one putting his life online for the world to see. It’s my choice, not his. That’s why he is referred to S. and not his full name.

And several others suggested that I write more about life as a newlywed. So I guess that goes along with the subject of S. since I wouldn’t be a newlywed without him.

Truth be told, life as a newlywed isn’t that much different than when we were dating, because we were dating with the intention of getting married practically from the beginning. We did marry very young, but both of us were fully aware of what we were getting ourselves into. I’ve always been a person who knows what I want and knows what’s best for myself and S. is the same way. Neither of us had any reservations about marriage.

The first year of marriage was like being on a boat in wicked storm. Our boat almost turned over a time or two but throughout it all we could see a calm horizon waiting for us just over the next wave. And I think that’s how we got through it, but knowing that smooth sailing was ahead. We knew that making it through the storm would be worth it. External pressures really put a strain on our relationship that year — living with S.’s parents, I couldn’t find a job, S. was working insanely long hours.

This year all of those external pressures are no longer upon us and plus we’re also coming up on 4 years of knowing each other (and being together). This year we understand each other and communicate with each other better than we did the year before, or three years before. I’m not the same person I was 4 years ago, not even close. Neither is he. I think a lot of young marriages may struggle because you change so much as a person at this time in your life. But, S. and I have done a good job in growing together and understanding the changes in the other.

I tied the knot 3 days before I turned 23 and a lot of people said, “You’re way too young to get married!” I never thought of that way. To me, meeting the love of my life at such a young age has been an amazing experience. This way we have more years of life to spend together! Being married at this age isn’t holding me back from doing anything I want to do. On the contrary, the things I want to do will be enhanced because I’ll have my husband at my side while I’m doing them.

I’m still not saying, “I told you so,” to the people who told me I shouldn’t get married while still in my early twenties. We haven’t even been married for two years. It’s a little too early to start crowing just yet. And I won’t say we’ll never get a divorce, because I believe in never say never. You just don’t know what life will throw your way. But I will say that S. and I are rock solid. I feel pretty damn good about our chances.

This is probably the most I’ll ever write directly about my relationship on this blog, unless we have a big fight pertaining to cultural differences or something funny happens to us (and aside from the post I’ll be writing on Friday about Chilean men). I’m not a very sentimental person and when I try to write anything about my husband it usually just comes out sounding cheesy. Some people have a knack for writing about their lives and their relationships and making their posts about those topics beautiful and interesting. My knack isn’t it that area. If I tried to write every day about S. and our relationship all the posts would read something like,

Woke up. I love S. I missed him while he was at work. We talked on the phone ten times. He came home and I was happy to see him. Then the next day I woke up and guess what. I still love S. And I still missed him while he was at work…

Yeah, you can see where that’s going.

So since you guys asked for it, I’ll try to mention relationship/S. related things in more posts, but only if they pertain to the topic at hand. If this blog became a written soap opera of the (lack of) drama in my life, it would get pretty boring.

PS. Ok, due to lack of better topics suggested, the topic we are going to group blog on is Chilean men if you want to participate (or foreign men if you’re not in Chile and would like to do a post on the a different breed of the male species). I was thinking I’ll post my post on Chilean men on here on Friday with links to all your posts. Does that work? If there’s a better way to do this feel free to mention it (*ahem, HEATHER — this whole thing was your idea and we haven’t heard one peep out of you!).

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Kyle Hepp

To Provoke or Not to Provoke

Spring Is In the Air

Time to Vote (Again)

A Patriot and an Expatriate

Next Group Blogging Post

Why I Love Having A Papito

Happy Birthday Emily!!!

Chilean Men

Cauliflower

Thoughts on Being a Newlywed

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