November 4, 2009
Don’t forget to take my survey and win a pretty picture! Thank you!
Yesterday I mozied on over to Providencia for a meeting with a prospective client — a fake Chilean Gringa, who brought along her mom.
This lovely lawyer, who you’ll be seeing on this blog in full blown wedding gear in December, because they’re hiring us (yay!) has lived in the U.S. her whole life. And her two Chilean parents have lived in the U.S. for 34 years now.
After we talked photography and wedding details, we talked life in Chile. The lovely lawyer’s mother had a lot of questions. She wanted to know everything that I loved and hated about living in Chile. And when I say she “wanted to know,” I don’t mean that she asked, “So how are you liking Chile?!?” and then waited for me to tell her how much I loved it and how great Chileans are, like most people do. She really wanted to know.
I enjoyed her questions because they made me think. When I’m not in Chile, what do I miss about being here? Not that much actually. When I’m in Chile, what do I miss about the U.S. Not that much either. Sometimes I wonder if there’s something wrong with me that causes me to have so little attachment to places I’ve lived. I’m just not a very sentimental person, to be honest.
The more questions she asked me, the more I realized, my relationship with Chile is so love/hate that those two emotions almost cancel each other out. What I hate about Chilean society is that people have very little consideration for others, they’re so rude and inconsiderate of each other. But at the same time, sometimes I love that. I love that they’re not nice to each other just because they feel like societal rules dictate that they have to be. What societal rules? We’re all just going to do whatever the hell we want to do without having to stop and worry about how our actions are affecting others. To hell with it. Anarchy.
And I also was able to ask the Lovely Lawyer and her mother what they thought about living in the U.S. as Chileans. Just like it’s not often that someone asks me what I think of Chile and expects an honest answer, it’s not enough that I have the chance to speak with someone in the same situation, but opposite. When I first sat down and asked the Lovely Lawyer, “So…you’re sort of Chilean right?” And she said, “No, I’m a gringa.” But her mother clearly is, and always will be Chilena. Then I asked about her also Chilean-born father who’s lived in the U.S. for the same 34 years. I asked, “Does he still identify with Chile?” and both the Lovely Lawyer and her mom responded laughing, “No. He’s gringo.”
I can’t imagine living in a country so long, assimilating so fully, that I feel Chilean. For as much as I finally like I’ve found my place in this society and that I’m happy to be living in Chile, I’ll always be gringa. Just like the Lovely Lawyer’s mother, who is well dressed, speaks perfect English and has an extremely open mind about both societies and the way they work, but is and always will be Chilena — I don’t think 34 years or even 134 years would change that part of my identity.
And just so you guys know, I will be making my way through answering some of the survey questions, plus trying to fix the blog’s technical problems that you’ve pointed out, some of which I had never realized it had! Speaking of — anyone know how to make the font bigger? I just tried to follow a tutorial that I found in google and it didn’t work. Several people have requested a larger font so I’m trying to make it happen.
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Mary
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kyleracine
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Mary
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Gabriel M. Ortega
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kyleracine
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Andrea Gonzalez
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kyleracine
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Joris Vleminckx
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kyleracine
