The great escape

Six months on and Chile has begun to seem like somewhere which never really existed. Incredible how time can heal... Back in June I was manically preparing and counting the days until we returned to some semblance of a normal life... It was strange, saying goodbye and in fact hard for the children although they have the good fortune of being young enough to live in the present and dwell little on the past. We spent the summer months decompressing in the reassuring familiarity of the children's grandparents' comfortable house before setting up our new home and new life in the semi-rural setting we once aimed for before, swapping the majestic but untamed Andes for the humbler, infinitely cosier Chilterns... As the girls and I stood on the pavement outside our still strangely new-feeling home, the dust-covered container which had travelled overseas all the way from Santiago via Valparaiso and ending up at the port of Tilbury before journeying by road to our new abode, heavy with all our worldly goods, felt like an old friend and looked a little how I felt myself ie battered, tired but somehow resilient... It was a sight that will stay with me for a long time and definitely symbolised a moment in our lives.
That was four months ago. The girls have now all but finished their first term at their British state primary school and have literally loved every minute. Even I have taken the first tentative steps at a return to some worthwhile working activity and am full of the joys of making my contribution to the world outside my wonderful but limited existence as wife, mother, homemaker... Things feel right. Schools are such stimulating, modern and exciting places to be here. Healthcare is available and free for all, a concept which people take for granted sometimes, not realising that the rest of the world is far from where we are as regards well-developed civilisation and basic human rights. It is cold in December and the days are short, all adding to the authenticity of a proper Christmas this year. My friends and family are around and nearby as we are to them, no longer isolated by continents and hemispheres not to mention seasons and timezones. I wake up every morning absolutely delighted to be here, back where we belong...
What do I miss about Chile? The weather has to be in top position. Incredibly mild and short winters, long, warm summers and always comfortable conditions for sleeping and so forth... Plus the sun, its light and its warmth. Never having to use a tumbledrier nor even attempt to dry clothes indoors. The ubiquity and abundance of avocados. Wonderful Sauvignon Blanc at very reasonable prices. But things I can actually live without... if I like. Chile was an adventure in every sense of the word but also very hard work at times. As for the girls, they still recall their school/nursery, friends and teachers, but are swiftly forgetting it all too which is a shame. Every now and then one of them remembers something and we all laugh, a little incredulously at times, did that really happen and were we really there? Does that world really exist or was it an elaborate dream, just like Dorothy had in the Wizard of Oz? There's no place like home...

Full circle

Last week marked the end of term for DD1 hence a parent-teacher "conference" was scheduled. Her teacher was very direct and clearly didn't want to waste any time chatting but all was reported to be well much as had been expected. I still don't feel particularly aware of what goes on at school other than that all parties seem content with the status quo. In spite of the school's gloomy anachronistic ambience, DD1 has in fact been very happy, forming solid friendships and learning to read and write during her time there which is more than enough to satisfy me at this stage. She has also acquired Chilean Spanish in the most natural way possible as well as considerable cultural knowledge, numeracy skills and managed to lug an incredibly heavy rucksack to and from school every day... She may well be trailing behind in English spelling and writing but by way of compensation has learnt joined-up handwriting, loops and all. It's not quite what you'd get in a sub-standard state school in the UK (according to The Economist) but she's still young enough to catch up and the experience of living in South America for two years is probably a fair swap for anything she may have missed out on back in the twenty-first century...

Much the same can be said for DD2. Often she has lamented the fact that she goes to a Spanish-speaking nursery and not an English-speaking one, choosing to remain "as quiet as a mouse" for as long as possible while slowly but surely absorbing everything around her... She has gained an extraordinary level of confidence linguistically and culturally as well as producing enough artistic creations to sink the Titanic. Not to mention her experience of presenting to the class (this week it's seashells)... It's probably been very different to nursery in the UK but at her age being with other children and having fun are all that counts. The fact that she can also recite poems in Spanish, dance the tango and knows all about the glories of Chilean history are of course all a bonus...
As for me, I've learnt Spanish too, albeit not as well nor as naturally but I have had a good go, aided mainly by my very patient and eternally encouraging teacher. Not sure what else I have achieved apart from visiting some beautiful and far-flung places, surviving in an alien culture and always feeling like something wasn't quite right... Now my days as ama de casa are well and truly numbered as we prepare for our impending return to the UK. To use an analogy my children might understand, I feel a little like Jo in the Magic Faraway Tree, who visits the land of Topsy-Turvy and ends up walking upside down on his hands while his friends remain the right way up. After spending a while like this he eventually gets a reprieve and is allowed to return the right way up again, vowing to himself that he has in fact had enough exciting adventures and will not be visiting any more of the fascinating but unpredictable lands at the top of the Faraway Tree, however tempting they may seem...

El dia de la madre and other exciting events

While my body and soul have been crying out for jacket potatoes, fireworks and roasted chestnuts, the calendar firmly reminds me that it is in fact May despite all evidence to the contrary. Thus we have had the May Day holiday, otherwise known as el Dia del Trabajador, on which anyone who works is given a well-deserved day (or in this case as it fell on a Tuesday, two days) off for their trouble. This was closely followed by Mother's Day which began by secretive preparatory messages being relayed to an increasingly baffled DH via the home-school diary and culminated in a crescendo of cards, treats and a very special event at DD2's nursery last Saturday morning. The mothers were invited to attend in comfortable clothing and armed with a cushion while the creative and unswervingly energetic tias had transformed the nursery into a spiritual wellness centre complete with new-age music, incense and zen-like nibbles while also urging us all to participate in a rotation of massage, yoga and meditation activities... After this we were told how wonderful we were by our children via song, dance, poetry and of course a beautiful homemade card. As if that weren't overwhelming enough, the following day one could hardly move throughout Santiago without someone selling flowers/giving out sweets/calling out "felicidades!" as the entire world celebrated the almost holy figure of the mama'. I wasn't quite sure what I'd done to deserve it when the waiter in the Peruvian restaurant we lunched in thrust a small gift-wrapped box containing a single macaroon in my hand but I wasn't going to refuse...
Less than a week later and instead of Guy Fawkes we are commemorating another semi-mythical political figure namely Arturo Prat. Despite sounding like a joke he represents the most heroic patriotic qualities, having fought valiantly for Chile in the War of the Pacific and nobly sacrificing his life for his country (hence next Monday's national holiday, el Dia de las Glorias Navales). DD2 received the requisite brainwashing this morning at nursery and can now recite proudly how many boats he had, which battles he won and how he lost the third battle but inspired victory for Chile over Peru.
Meanwhile next week also sees the end of term for DD1 and a chance to speak to her class teacher to find out just what has been going on on the other side of the impenetrable school gates. Cannot wait...

The art of the presentation

Another week, another presentation for DD2 to prepare for her very demanding nursery. As a matter of fact the Gabriela Mistral presentation didn't go at all badly; DD2 had greatly enjoyed cutting out the pictures and gluing them on to her poster along with the Chilean flag and one of Mistral's most famous poems. The only tiny snag was that at the moment of presenting her information to her audience DD2 pointed to her poster, opened her mouth though no words actually came out. Still she joined in enthusiastically with the group recitation of "Dame la mano, y danzaremos", thus proving her passion for and devotion to Chile's most famous female poet.
The following week we were required to produce a poster depicting how we might protect our planet. After some thought and consultation with materials on the subject we drew a picture of Planet Earth surrounded by ways in which people could look after their planet, all of which were then carefully coloured in by DD2 with the help of some wax crayons. The end result was certainly impressive and gained prime position in the nursery's outdoor display in honour of Earth Day at the end of last week. The same day a note appeared in the home-school diary requesting that DD2 bring in the following Monday (ie the next nursery day) a homemade book to celebrate Book Day (not ones to let the grass grow under their feet) so fortunately we took in one of DD1's creations, again to great public approval. Hardly had another day gone by when we received yet another request in the diary, this time politely asking for a marine animal to be created from recycled materials for next month's sea hanging display. I must say that while I completely applaud their energy and desire to stimulate their small charges, I am also at the stage when I am beginning to dread what may be required next, not being a Blue Peter natural by any stretch of the imagination... Meanwhile today was the annual Dia del Carabiñero (no English translation possible except "Policeman's Day") so we were urged to have freshly-laundered aprons ready for the well-rehearsed military march and dance. DD2 and her companions were absolutely delighted however to have such important guests plus their goody-bags of sweets and balloons at the end of course. All quite ironic when witnessed in the light of the Carabiñeros' day job of the liberal use of tear gas and water cannons not to mention truncheons and any other weaponry at hand to control or dispel any unruly mobs such as student protesters (see link: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-latin-america-17850339). Such are the contradictions of life in Chile...
DD1 has also been busy preparing her own more advanced materials for her presentation on an organ of the human body tomorrow for school. She has chosen the brain just to make it nice and easy so we have researched, printed, stuck on and written about this intriguing though complex organ, refreshing bits and pieces for all of us (a distinct advantage of having school-going children). Perhaps it is not just in Chile where children are encouraged to prepare and conduct presentations at a tender age and of course there is probably no harm, although there is an aspect of all this I feel a tad uneasy about. Is it simply to improve one's self-confidence and communication skills or are we all being primed for a life of exposition, exhibition and publicity? It has certainly kept us occupied at any rate and taken our minds off the rapidly advancing autumn/winter season of the southern hemisphere. Hats and scarves have been dusted off while both children have also been reacquainted with the pleasures of tights and polo-necks already...Temperatures have fallen sharply in the last few days making life a little bit more arduous as one struggles with the temptation to remain under the bedclothes on a cold dark morning without heating (yet)... The downside to living somewhere where central heating is considered a luxury.

La semana santa

Just like last year, Easter has heralded a dramatic change in season from a lingering late summer to full-blown cruel autumn. Again it has surprised me although perhaps less than before as even I am becoming accustomed to this topsy-turvy world. I am not a huge fan of autumn at the best of times as I adore the heat but the colours adorning the streets and parks provide some compensation with vivid yellows, reds, pinks, oranges, greens and browns forming an extravagant visual feast.
La semana santa or Holy Week is not such an important event in Chile as it is in Spain although it did have its interesting moments. At DD1's school the three-day week was a good excuse to suspend normal lessons and organise team sporting events ostensibly to commemorate the occasion of the school's 81st birthday. Unfortunately however the competitive spirit was evidently a little too strong as those who didn't win were in tears in the playground afterwards according to DD1 (whose own team luckily finished in a very respectable second place). Perhaps it was for this reason that the PE staff saw fit to show the children in Year 2 the DVD of Megamind on the last morning before the two-day holiday which managed to permeate our entire weekend break with talk of superheroes, superpowers and of course their evil counterparts...
Meanwhile at DD2's nursery there were some more traditionally-themed activities on offer. Every day in the home-school diary there appeared images and messages attesting to Jesus's goodness and humility as the tias dressed up in different costumes and charted the main events of Holy Week. One day DD2's tia even drew herself a beard with face paint and washed all the children's feet as Jesus had done to his disciples... On Easter Monday (not a holiday in Chile) the Easter Bunny came and delivered a small basket of chocolate eggs and a beautifully illustrated story wrapped with a ribbon to each child. Later we read together the "Legend of the Easter Bunny" at home and discovered that it had actually seen Jesus rise from the dead and had begun its tradition of distributing colourful chocolate eggs to all children to spread the good news (as of course rabbits cannot speak)... Good to know there was a logical explanation as I had always wondered...
Easter now over and business is very much as usual. DD1 is back at normal lessons and even DD2 has had to prepare and give a presentation on Gabriela Mistral, Chile's Nobel-prize-winning poet and inspirational teacher/role-model...

Still quaking...

After a year and a half in Chile we were beginning to think we had worked out all there was to know about daily life here, though it turned out we were mistaken... We had yet to experience our first proper earthquake.
For me and indeed all of us, earthquakes are not an everyday occurrence. In fact many people back in Europe joked that moving to Chile in 2010, the very year of the last major earthquake here, was a good plan as it was unlikely to recur too soon. Not quite apparently, and shortly after arriving there was often talk of the occasional tremor which I must admit I didn't always even notice, especially the nocturnal variety. However even I eventually identified moments when I could hear furniture shaking and of course have felt a number of small movements while we've been here, none of which had been particularly alarming. Until Sunday evening at around 7.30pm...
The girls and I were sitting in the kitchen finishing off dinner when suddenly DH called out from the living room that another tremor was beginning. He came rushing in while we all watched the walls sway from side to side, as if we were on water, first slowly then with greater force for what seemed like forever. Meanwhile we could hear shouts going on outside our door, cutlery and crockery rattling and more interminable rocking. At first we were faintly amused, though we were soon gripped by fear as we wondered whether to dive under the table or try to leave the building (we are on the fifteenth floor)... The nausea from the movement added to the terror provoked by having apparently no control over the situation was a powerful combination. DD1 was also frightened when she saw how worried we were though we tried to keep calm...DD2 meanwhile went on eating, blissfully unaware of any potential danger... In the end it only lasted forty seconds but they were among the longest and most anxious of my life. It was with enormous relief that I saw the building regain its stillness as my heart continued to pound away in my chest. Thank goodness construction here takes seismic activity into account... If we can withstand 7.2 degrees on the Richter scale I think we can be fairly reassured our building isn't going to crumble as in a disaster movie...unless we are very unlucky. However I still had a very sleepless night after that, every tiny sound or movement sending me into alert and am now more clued up on what to do in the event of any further quakes. Everyone here seems to be an expert on the matter but apparently the most common advice is not to leave one's building during a tremor, but to sit, crouch or lie near a robust piece of furniture which would serve as protection in the event of something falling from above. Previously there had never been time to get into any kind of safety position but this time was definitely different... Just hoping there won't be a next time.

Autumn term begins...in March

It was a rude awakening indeed last week as the morning after returning from Rio, suitcases yet to be completely unpacked, I had to be awake, alert and at school by 8am to meet DD1's new teacher and hear all about the new challenges facing the children of Year 2 at her (nominally bilingual) Chilean school. The teacher herself was serious and wasted little time in addressing the key issues while also requiring that the assembled parents filled in a questionnaire about their child's strengths and weaknesses which was a taxing but stimulating exercise for my Spanish. The rest of the meeting was taken up by lots of noisy banter in rapid Chilean from the other parents, mainly about whether or not the annual contribution to the parents' social fund should be increased or remain unchanged. It was one of those rare opportunities to see what goes on beyond the school gates as parents are usually very much encouraged to stay away...
The next day DD1 bounded out of bed even before 7 o'clock, so keen was she to return to school and see her friends. Like last year, many parents had turned up both together in elegant attire for the obligatory photo of their adored niño/a beginning a new school year and at least one family was filming the momentous occasion even before registration at 7.45am...
An hour or so later it was DD2's turn to return to her nursery, slightly less enthusiastic than her sister but also curious to meet her new tia and see her new "classroom". She was delighted to see some old faces from last year as well as numbers and letters adorning the walls and a proper whiteboard on one side, feeling very grown up compared to what she calls the "chubby-cheeked children" who have moved up to her former class.
A week and a couple of days on and the novelty of getting up early is beginning to wear off for all of us except DD2 who is glad we're back on her wavelength. It has been hard adjusting to the punishingly early schedule again after our extended summer break but we cannot really complain too much... Meanwhile the first tangible signs of autumn are here with cool mornings, leaves gently beginning to fall and shorter days. Both girls have already come down with their first snuffles of the season... Having said that this is not at all autumn with grey blustery skies; the sun still shines practically every day with occasionally a short-lived fog in the morning and escalating temperatures by afternoon. Clothes for the morning or evening are completely unsuitable by 3pm and the school run, by which time we are wilting in the considerable heat and sweating profusely, bad-tempered from our lack of sleep... Normal life resumes in Santiago. If you can call it normal...

The girl from Ipanema

Last week we celebrated the extra day of leap year by boarding a plane to Rio de Janeiro for a final fling before returning to the rigours of the new school year this week (more about that to follow)...
It was a fabulous trip to what must be one of the world's most naturally beautiful cities. Situated on a sprawling bay overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, Rio is a metropolis with protruding hills and palm trees along miles of sweeping, golden beaches...all under the out-stretched embrace of Christ the Redeemer on one side and the imposing Sugar Loaf Mountain on the other. As we left the airport heading into the city we looked up and saw huge dark birds circling and gliding overhead... just one of the signs that we were somewhere new, exciting and exotic.
Exotic is probably a word which sums up Rio rather well, from its landscape, its vegetation, its tropical climate, its scantily-clad inhabitants to its food and cocktails, all of which we encountered at some point during our stay. Due to the Brazilians having already adjusted their clocks (an aspect which wasn't entirely clear to us for the first day and a half), we were in the same time zone as Santiago but suddenly in quite different surroundings and climatic conditions. While Santiago is warm and dry though cool at night, Rio was hot and humid all day long which was rather uncomfortable at first. Also this meant that indoors the air-conditioning was invariably set at full blast therefore also not ideal (a scarf or cardigan was essential extra clothing). Needless to say we tended to prefer the natural environment outdoors and just tried to keep ourselves hydrated as far as possible, although the inevitable traveller's tummy struck its evil blow (fortunately limiting itself to DH and myself, thus sparing us the agony of sick children on holiday). Interestingly there were very few families on the tourist trail but lots of gay and straight couples and also young adults in general.
We managed to strike a reasonable balance by aiming for half a day of sightseeing activities in the morning and spending the rest of the afternoon on the beach. The sand on Ipanema beach was as fine as golden flour, while at the foot of Sugar Loaf Mountain it was more like brown sugar. The girls were happy either way, busily digging and burying, shaping and constructing. Meanwhile the water of the Atlantic was turquoise and clean although the waves were often huge and the pull of the undercurrent dangerously strong.
One of the most memorable moments of the trip came as we were finishing lunch in Santa Teresa, a bohemian area on a hill whose cobbled streets and inviting shops, cafes and art galleries wouldn't look out of place in a fashionable part of London. A trio featuring a trombonist, an acoustic guitarist and a pianist began softly playing authentic bossanova which perfectly captured the mood and setting. We managed to linger at our table for long enough to savour the magic while the children attempted to take photos of the musicians until DD2's wriggling and fiddling with the trombonist's microphone became too much and we had to leave the establishment to remove the disturbance... Maybe Rio is more of an adult destination, though the girls loved the train ride up the Corcovado to see the statue of Christ and the cable cars up Sugar Loaf went down very well too. Plus the incredible beaches... An unforgettable and essential part of the South American experience for all of us.

On the waterfront

Finally DH is officially prevented from going to work due to the annual closure of the university so our summer holiday proper may commence... and not before time.
Our first foray out of Santiago last week was to the much-lauded Region of the Lakes in the south of the country, beyond the forests of monkey-puzzle trees and meandering rivers but just preceding Patagonia. Every Chilean raves about the lakes, the south in general and we had only heard good things about it. Thus we flew to Puerto Montt then immediately drove in a hired car to Puerto Varas, a pleasant and useful place to base oneself right on the edge of the majestic Lago Llanquihue. From our window we could enjoy unobstructed views of the immense lake, its pebbly beaches and most dramatically of all, the snow-capped, almost perfectly conical Volcano Osorno on the horizon. That would probably have been enough to please many but there was much more to be discovered...
A short drive west led to the picturesque town of Frutillar, immaculately preserved as the first German settlers constructed it with wooden houses, neatly trimmed rosebushes and perfect window boxes providing a chocolate-box image of a lakeside resort. Again however the volcano was the prime attraction, looming largely over the still water and dominating the pretty but slightly artificial town with its natural beauty. Venturing further north still, we encountered Puerto Octay, a quiet but more real fishing village set on a natural peninsula which provided a secluded and beautiful beach on which to set up camp for a morning, search for stones and watch the fishermen (trying not to disturb them of course).
The second leg of our trip involved driving towards the Argentine border beyond paved roads for a considerable distance to Petrohue', situated on one side of the truly spectacular Lago Todos Los Santos. It was a shimmering green lake practically at the foot of the omnipresent volcano, whose last eruption provided much of the black rubble surrounding the shore. Hugely atmospheric setting, clouded only by coachloads and campervans of tourists eager to enjoy the natural panorama in Chile's most-visited national park. Definitely to be seen out of season... Our lodge at Petrohue' was comfortable and had nice touches such as inviting sofas around open fireplaces although it was run by a group of young people who evidently hadn't made a great deal of provision for families. Not their fault of course as it was a hiker's paradise. In fact when the rain came and didn't stop for the last day and a half of our stay, plenty of technical waterproofs were in evidence from the more intrepid outdoors folk who had planned for every eventuality. The girls were delighted to wear their raincoats which had otherwise been gathering dust since our arrival in Chile and I must confess to enjoying seeing rain again after months and months. However waterproofs and trainers are not my ideal exclusive holiday equipment and by the second day of incessant rain the novelty was rapidly wearing off. It was fun for a while but we were all glad to be back in the summer of February in Santiago, where we were able to peel off the layers on arrival, putting the raincoats away and reacclimatising to natural heat again...

Stand by your man

One month of the holidays left until school reopens and we aren't actually doing too badly. The girls are enjoying the long epicurean days and it must be said so am I. I am pleasantly surprised at how well they are playing together although plenty of fighting goes on too...often about toys or dolls' clothes. It's definitely been a bonding period as Santiago slows down and empties for the summer while school and nursery seem like a distant memory.
Last week we were invited to DH's department's end-of-year party, an event held in the university grounds for academic staff and students alike-- plus entourage such as ourselves. The students had gone to a great deal of trouble, not just by setting up and decorating stalls and even a barbecue serving choripan (sausage in a bread roll) and anticuchos (brochettes) amongst other delights but also by erecting a sophisticated sound system with amplifiers and at least two lap-tops providing the soundtrack of non-stop music tailored for a range of tastes and age-groups. Spirits were high, wine and beer flowed and the atmosphere was generally good despite some minor scuffles marring the end. The children amused themselves, especially by exploring the grounds while some of us indulged in some uninterrupted adult conversation. Inevitably I was asked about how I had settled in to life in Chile, what my impressions were and whether or not I was working at the moment...probably about a dozen times. Needless to say my answers became more expansive and less guarded as the Sauvignon Blanc went down...
Which brings me on to an issue I have been wanting to address for a while but haven't yet found the right moment, namely that of the Trailing Spouse. At first it was a novelty and of course a privilege, not to have to work and following one's husband around the world while also busily taking care of domestic matters and the lion's share of the childcare. Isn't that what all women did once, I wonder to myself, and many still do even in our so-called most developed cultures, at least for a few years while the children are small. Not so in Chile, where I and others like me are the exception and very much the minority. I hardly ever see Chilean mothers with their children here during the day apart from at weekends; usually families employ the ubiquitous and strictly apron-clad figure of the Nana, a robust all-encompassing home-help whose tasks may comprise anything within the home but also include looking after their patrons' children. I suppose their "mistresses" haven't had to up sticks and move to the other side of the world but still it's food for thought as I am surrounded by an army of apron-wearing women in parks, around the pool and in the communal gardens, some of whom I can't help feeling probably don't care much for the spoilt brat(s) in their charge but who will put up with anything for 10,000 Chilean pesos (approximately US$20) for an entire day's work... As for us Trailing Spouses, we do feel a bit isolated at times but of course have to look at the positives such as travelling to a new country/continent/hemisphere, learning a new language, spending time with one's children and thinking about going back to work...

Weekend at the beach

It has to be said that a rather wonderful aspect of living in Chile is the possibility of taking off for the beach for a weekend in January. Of course January here is the meteorological equivalent of July in the northern hemisphere, thus you begin to imagine the crowds, the difficulty in finding suitable accommodation, not to mention the traffic on the motorway... However, undeterred, we booked ahead and set off bright and early on Saturday morning for our chosen destination of Quintay, a picturesque and largely unspoilt fishing village with a tiny bay frequented only by fishermen, divers, the odd adventurous (or foolhardy) family and lots of seagulls. It was dull and overcast when we arrived, almost reminiscent of the English seaside were it not for the dramatic landscape, including valleys of fertile vineyards one passed en route to the almost vertical slope we had to walk down (and later up again) to get to the sheltered cove at Quintay itself. After a quick wander around the miniscule beach (dodging the stray dogs) we headed for a hearty fisherman's portion of fish and chips, Chilean-style (no batter, enormous quantities) and very good it was too. As we were settling the bill and ready to reach for the buckets and spades, DD2 announced she didn't like beaches after all, which was rather a bad omen for the two days we had planned of exactly that...
We attempted to begin to digest our lunch by visiting the ex-whaling station, now a vacant, shell of a museum mainly containing black and white photos testifying to its somewhat unfathomable past incarnation. As so often happens in Chile, the sun suddenly emerged from behind an apparently impenetrable layer of cloud to produce an absolute scorcher of an afternoon, thus we hurried to Playa Grande, a nearby stretch of golden sand which became more and more full of holidaymakers as the day went on... We had only just remarked on how peaceful it was when at around 4pm a sound system was plugged in and a DJ began blasting what can only be described as beach house music to a not completely gratified public...
By evening we were too happy and tired to care much that our cabaña, while recommended in two of our guidebooks, had in fact been a disappointment in terms of cleanliness and hygiene which may have been why some of us didn't have the best night's sleep...
The next day we set off further down the coast for Isla Negra, not an island but a locality so-called for its clump of dark granite rocks along the beach and also home to one of Pablo Neruda's houses, now a museum of the poet's eccentric and extravagant personal items collected from his travels around the world. Unfortunately choosing to visit Neruda's house in Isla Negra on a Sunday in January was a little like choosing to visit Shakespeare's birthplace on a Sunday in the summer months, that is to be avoided at all costs due to hordes of people, long queues and the selling out of tickets... Never mind we thought, a great excuse to go back to visit this little gem at another time of year. Instead we made straight for the beach which was beautiful and very atmospheric although made up of fine pebbles therefore not as interesting for more advanced construction purposes. However we still managed to keep busy for an entire day, making stone soup and tea amongst other delights and contemplating the ocean, whose icy water we paddled in but could not swim in. Clearly Chileans are made of sterner stuff than some of us...

Strangers in the night

Well the Befana came, bearing Italian chocolates and Chilean sweets, followed hot on her heels two days later by the Tooth Fairy who left the princely sum of one hundred pesos for DD1's first baby tooth to fall out... Let's hope that's it for a while as we've certainly had our fair share of nocturnal visitors recently, what with the jolly chap in the red coat, his elves and various other creatures of fantasy (who will soon be losing their mythical status if this constant march is to be sustained any longer...)
Meanwhile it's January in Santiago, warm and sunny though slightly cooler than the heatwave we experienced over the festive period. We have established a kind of rhythm which consists of plenty of visits to the park, lots of bike rides and even more dips in the pool... Only another month until DH is on holiday then we shall be free to take off for another adventure.
Not that there aren't things to do in the city. This week on an energetic whim I managed to take the girls on the metro to visit the excellent Picasso exhibition in town which made a pleasant change from the calm though dull suburbs. They have since been inspired to redouble their efforts artistically and we now have moulded and painted our own garden, decorated fairies and butterflies and painted works which even Picasso may have been interested to see with his notions of the perspective of the child as artist...

Twelfth Night

It was not without some sadness but also with a good deal of relief that we dismantled our eco-tree today and put away our Christmas decorations in readiness for perhaps a proper winter celebration next year. Despite our best efforts it hasn't really seemed like Christmas this year either though Loving Grandmother's presence certainly added to the mood and helped us to feel it was a special time of year. The children were delighted with their stockings and various bits and pieces, enjoying in particular the swimming on Christmas Day and around, although DD1 surprised me more than once by saying that for her too it didn't seem like Christmas without the cold. It all seemed to be over in a trice as there were no extra bank holidays in lieu and the working week commenced again on Monday 26 December.
New Year's Eve was an interesting moment of cultural confusion as we took advantage of LG's babysitting potential and headed out, DH and I, to sample and savour the last night of the year in Chile's capital city. No-one had told us (nor had we asked) that the centre of the city was officially closed until after midnight on New Year's Day, thus we wandered around forlornly from barrio to barrio, being glared at by mean-looking carabiñeros for a worrying while in eerily quiet streets, searching for signs of life and anywhere serving even a glass of wine. Eventually we realised what was going on (seeing only disappointed tourists in a similar situation) and headed for the more "civilised" outskirts of the city where we eventually found hotels defying (or exempt from) the evening curfew and settled down for a four-course meal surrounded by rich and/or fat fellow diners. By eleven thirty we had finished and were stuffed to the gills, ready to take to the streets and begin saluting our fellow Santiaguinos... The streets were still desolate, completely deserted and Santiago had never been as empty. We began our long walk home, passing the midnight mark en route which was atmospheric for the lack of traffic, people and dogs for once... It felt like a metaphor for our existence here, DH and I alone in an alien world, always against the tide but together in a strange country, continent, hemisphere and culture...
So it is 2012 and a new year thus a time of renewed hope and optimism. Here in Chile the economic recession is not really an issue although there is a huge discrepancy in how people live hence a constant feeling of dissatisfaction for those of us used to a more even society. However one can only hope their turn will come too...
Meanwhile LG's departure has been softened by two exciting prospects: DD1's first wobbly tooth plus the potential arrival of La Befana, Italy's equivalent of the Three Wise Men who travels around the world on Twelfth Night, bringing sweets to good children and lumps of coal to the bad...