Kyle Hepp

February 15, 2009

Don’t be scared off by the title of this post. We haven’t actually thrown our round the world trip plans to the wayside. But, last night while out on a walk with S. and Papito, I saw a glimpse into the future that could have been.

As we strolled, we stumbled across an unusually huge, unusually beautiful old abandoned house. It looked as though it had been in a huge fire. All the insides were gutted and only the basic structure remained. S. and I began guessing how much a place like that would sell for. And then we began talking about how we would fix it up if we were to buy it.

We’d knock out some of the walls on the first floor so that the living room, entrance area and kitchen were all one big empty space. We’d extend the round area on the second floor to become a huge balcony where we could eat breakfast on the weekends outside. We’d put in a small underground pool in the front yard. We’d plant shrubs, trees and vines in the front yard growing up against the gate so that we’d have a place where Papi could play and I could swim in privacy.

A future life in Chile flashed before my eyes.

The place was too far from the metro to walk if you’re in a hurry, probably a good two miles. So we would have to own a car to shuttle our kid back and forth to her colegio (yes, if I ever have a kid she’s going to be a girl and she’s going to have brown curly hair, tan skin and green eyes like her daddy. No questions asked, please). Our nana would come every day to clean the house and cook for us while S. ran his own construction company and I went on photo shoots. We’d spend the weekends traveling (because in my future vision we were clearly rich ballers) or at our beach house in Quintay (a bit further North than Algarrobo, and much less populated).

I realized that if I wanted to, I could make life in Chile work. But, I snapped out of my reverie as S. said, “Wait a minute. Shouldn’t we save our money to put towards buying a house in a country that we actually want to live in?”

We laughed and kept walking.

My visions of life in Chile are clear. For the most part, I know what I’ll get if we stay here. Visions of traveling around the world and then making a home in another country are blurry and everchanging and a little scary, because I have no preconceived notions of where we’re going, where we’ll end up or what’s going to happen. But, I like the uncertainty. I like living on the edge.

5 Comments

February 13, 2009

Sometimes catcalls, piropos, in Chilean Spanish, are the bane of my existence and make me want to poke the man in the eyeball with a steak knife. Othertimes I simply walk on by and pretend I don’t understand, or keep my headphones on so that I don’t hear anything. Once in a while I get worked enough that I’ll cuss the guy out.

But, sometimes, I just have to give in and laugh hysterically.

I’m not sure what made me think of this today. I certainly wasn’t piropo’ed at all. I’ve been sick all week and look like absolute hell, so nobody’s looking my way. But a few weeks ago when I was wearing a red dress (that does not have a hood, FYI), I received a memorable and creative piropo that I’m still chuckling about today.

A young taxi driver shouted out his window, “Ahhh, m’ijita rica.”

In typical fashion, I didn’t look, didn’t flinch, didn’t make any signs of acknowledgement.

But, then he yelled out,

“Oye, oye, tu! Caperucita Roja! Caperucita Roja seeeeeeeexy!”

He called me a sexy Little Red Riding Hood. This man involved a childhood fable in his sexual harassment ploys. I couldn’t resist. I could not have kept a straight face if my life depended on it.

I cracked up. And so did he. And then he drove away. So to any Chilean men out there who enjoying catcalling, that’s how you work it — you have to be memorable…and slightly deranged.

What’s the most creative line you’ve ever heard?

13 Comments

February 12, 2009

Stephanie linked to Elizabeth Gilbert’s speech at this same conference and when I saw the Isabel Allende one I had to watch. It’s long but very much worth your time.

Isabel Allende has long been a role model of mine. She is my absolute favorite author — her words are never less than beautiful. And she’s an amazing feminist activist/do-gooder. But that’s not why I admire her.

Truth be told, I admire the grace with which she handles being an expat.

She was born in Peru to Chilean parents (Salvador Allende was her actually cousin), went to school in Chile, but has also lived in Lebanon, Bolivia, Venezuela and finally the U.S. In her writings she mostly focuses on the U.S. and Chile because those are places she lived the longest.

I love how fully she’s embraced the U.S. as her home. Isabel is even a U.S. citizen. She seems so grateful for the life she has there, and very much in love with and at east in her adopted country. Although, at the same time, she doesn’t hesitate to make jokes about how crazy the gringos are.

And then when it comes to Chile, she seems to still have a great love for this place. Yet, she doesn’t glorify it as many expats tend to do with their home countries. Nor has she totally rejected it, as I’ve seen other expats do to their home countries in an effort to fit in better in their adopted country.

I admire someone who has so fully embraced both where she is now and where she came from. Isabel Allende makes being an expat look easy. And we all know that’s no small feat.

2 Comments