Concepcion, Dichato, Valdivia, and Yungay--Fiestas Patrias relived

Chileans really know how to celebrate their independence day. July 4th fireworks and bbqs are smallfry compared to the often weeklong festivities dedicated to commemorating their country's break from the Spanish. But more than really honoring this historic day, Fiestas Patrias is a time in which Chileans just break out their burning pride for their country, their culture, and their traditions. Never have I experienced a country so damn proud of its history and traditions. For one, almost everyone can do the cueca, which I have to say is not the coolest dance in the world (I nonetheless am determined to become a cueca pro myself by the end of this year!). In fact, cueca has been integrated into the primary education curriculum within the last 20 years, so there will be a day when a good 99% of the population will be able to cueca to some degree. Fiestas Patrias is also a time in which many Chileans, primarily children and older cueca dancers, strut around in their guaso/guasa attire. The men wear almost-cowboy-looking hats and a manta, which is like a colorful poncho that goes over their head and covers their upper body, along with killer spurs and boots. Women wear "chinitas" (I love the name for obvious reasons, though the term bears no relation to the ethnicity that shares its name. Pura coincidencia. Back in the old days, farm girls were called "chinas," as I had shockingly learned from the epic Chilean teleserie "El Senor de la Querencia," and their clothing as well), which are colorful, tacky, floral dresses. I have grown to love the look and am also planning to bring one of these dresses back. I'm itching to label a future photo, "Chinita in a chinita." hehe.

One primary reason why Chileans' blazing national pride startles me is the fact that quite plainly, you don't see that in America unless you live in the Christian conservative south. It's interesting to observe how I immediately am overwhelmed by disgust when I think about the type of American who would proclaim how much he loved his country and how proud he was to be American. I guess I belong to a younger, educated, more open generation that is aware and so fed up with the shit the US has put other nations through, ruthlessly asserting its influence and power. And how about the shit our government had put its own American people through in the past, like the impoverished and persons of color, and continues to do so in the present! For me, as I think for most, I have a love/hate relationship with America. As much as I am ashamed of certain dirty moments in my nation's history, I love our culture, diversity, foods, and even aspects of our capitalist market.

Anyway, back to how I spent my glorious weeklong vacation, that actually started the previous Thursday...

Concepcion
On Thursday afternoon right after my last class, I took a bus to Concepcion, a city that's about 1.5 hours south of Chillan. I was supposed to attend a ramada that evening at the University of Bio Bio, which is a typical celebration for fiestas patrias where people socialize, drink chicha (an alcoholic grape juice beverage), eat various oily and delicious Chilean dishes, get drunk, and dance their hearts out to cumbia or cueca. They call it ramadas because on reserved stretches of land called fondas, people open up mini-restaurants that are constructed of wood blocks. I think in the past, they were primarily constructed of wood branches, which translates to ramas in Spanish. Here's a photo of a particular ramada, though it's not of the one that I was supposed to attend that night. I ended up not making it to the ramada because I arrived at Concepcion a bit too late, and the food and alcohol had already been consumed.

This is the front of a particular ramada in Yungay.

Fast forward a bit, I ended up losing my cell phone that night because I had too much fun jumping at a bar, which was appropriately called Bar de Negro. Like Sarah said, who also had lost her scarf there, the place is like a black hole. Pobre Felipe also lost his backpack that night too. Pucha.

The next day, us WorldTeach volunteers traveled to a nearby town called Lota, which used to be a coal mining town. The Ministry of Education was sponsoring our visit to the coal mines, and needless to say I was pretty excited. Who ever gets the opportunity to visit an actual mine? The coal mines aren't in use anymore and now stands as more of a historical landmark, hosting tours and even providing a movie set (Subterra). Decked out in real mining gear, well just the helmet really--snazzy helmet flashlight and battery pack included!--, we descended into el "Chiflon del Diablo," which roughly translates to the "Wind of the Devil." This particular mine was bestowed this name because during its early beginnings, miners would wear candles on their helmets to light their way. Considering the large presence of natural gas produced by coal, you can easily deduce the unfortunate consequences whenever fire and gas fatally combined. Miners would die 30-50 at a time in a single accident. So whenever an explosion occurred, miners farther away from the accident would hear a huge gust of wind. Being underground, who else could mythically produce such a wind but the devil? I know there are more details that I missed from the guide's explanation of the naming of the mine, so I'm probably screwing this up a little, but this is the gist of what I got.

It was a really cool experience exploring the tunnels of the mine, but lordy, if I had to actually work down there...Boys at the age of 8 would start working down in the mines! And miners had to work 12-15 hour shifts, obligated to fill up 20 cars full of coal! If nature called, they had to do their business there, amidst the presence of hungry little rats waiting to chow down on their caca. The guide even told us that they couldn't squat down too much or else the greedy rats would start to jump up and bite for the last remains of their...well, food. To sum up my experience, I learned a lot about a miner's life, and never was I more grateful that I was short and not claustrophobic.

Tiffany and me, walking deeper into the heart of "El Chiflon del Diablo."

Dichato
The minute Sarah and I entered my host family's house in the beach town of Dichato, we chose which room we'd sleep in and parked our tired bodies in its dusty beds. The previous night of going out followed by a daytrip to Lota exhausted us, and we were ready to truly begin our vacation. That weekend we spent there was truly heavenly. The weather was gorgeous, with the sun shining so brightly and the sea breeze kissing our skin, which was happily free of the confines of winter clothing. I forgot how much I missed the beach. I realized how much I had taken for granted the fact that I live a mere 4 blocks away from the beach back home in San Francisco. I had missed so much my teacher the ocean, with its lessons revealed to me through the calming crash of the waves and the peace that fills me at just watching them slowly dance to its natural rhythm. I missed the sea wind and how it whispers in my ear and fills me with confidence and self-love. The beach is a refuge that helps centers me.

I also ate some of the most amazing seafood I have ever had here in Chile, which doesn't say thaaat much since I actually haven't eaten that much seafood since my arrival. Maybe that's why it tasted so amazing; my body craved it. For our first lunch in Dichato, I ate fried fish with rice. Every chance I get, I order rice as a side dish because come on, I'm Asian...it used to make up the crux of my diet. The following day, in the same delicious restaurant, I ordered a seafood soup dish called marical and Sarah ordered an amazing clam chowder-like dish called pastel de jaiva. Mmmm. Unfortunately, I think the seafood soup gave me a bad allergic reaction, in which my chest started to feel tight, my nose started to stuff out, and my eyes started to get swollen. It was pretty bad and felt pretty random. I remember we were all just hanging out at the beach when all of a sudden, my chest started to tighten up. My first theory was that a bug flew into my throat and bit me inside. Haha. I got pretty worried because the following day, I was supposed to make a trip down to Valdivia, and I really didn't want to miss it. I had already bought the bus tickets for one, I had made the hostal reservations two, and three, I really wanted to go to Valdivia! Not to mention I was planning to travel with another volunteer, Jennifer, and I didn't want to bail out on her, all because a stupid bug bit the inside of my throat.

Well, I eventually realized the allergy was most likely caused by the seafood, after remembering that I used to be allergic to it when I was younger (it would cause me to break out in hives). I took some allergy medicine, and by the end of the night, I started to feel a whole lot better.

Valdivia
I got my booty out of bed early the next day for my 7am bus ride to Valdivia. It was going to take about 6 hours to get to Valdivia from Chillan, which doesn't even sound like a daunting trip anymore. It also takes 6 hours by bus to get to Santiago, and I'm really used to the long ride. The buses here in Chile are really quite comfortable, and if you're lucky, they'd feature an entertaining movie that wouldn't be dubbed in Spanish. On one bus ride, I watched about half of Enchanted and on another, I saw I Am Legend. Lucky for Jen and I, we got to watch random episodes of The Nanny (in English) and a series of scenes from I think an English program called Gag, that's like a hidden camera show. For obvious reasons, I ended up napping the entire trip and listening to my ipod.

When we arrived at the terminal and I got off the bus, I was just blown away by the sight of a beautiful glistening river right before us. I fell in love with Valdivia right then and there.

After unloading our belongings at our cute hostel, we pretty much ran in search of a cafe/restaurant that Tiffany and Lonely Planet raved about, called La Ultima Frontera. It was about lunch time, and all we had eaten during the bus ride were crackers and cookies. Needless to say, we were famished, and my mouth watered at the thought of the shawarma or falafel sandwich that I already knew I was going to order. We easily found the place, and I pleasantly found myself in a very chill, bohemain style restaurant. I quickly scarfed down my huge shawarma sandwich and left very happy.

Valdivia feels like a coastal city because it is located at the confluence of 3 rivers. I became more acquianted with the Valdivia River, where I saw really interesting birds that I had never seen before as well as sea lions! They all crowded by the seafood market, where fishermen would occasionally feed the sea creatures fish.


The river tour that I took on my 2nd day there also disembarked from a port on this river. It was a 5 hour tour that took us to 2 different coastal cities close by where forts had been established by the Spaniards. Even though I woke up with a horrible stomach ache that morning, I was determined to go on the river tour. I only had 2 precious days to spend in Valdivia, and I'll be damned if I was going to spend one of those days in bed. After a 3 hour nap, I started to feel slightly better. I figured that at least the stomach pains had stopped hurting at 2 minute intervals. And luckily, my stomach behaved during the entire trip. I drank a lot of ginger ale that I think helped, and the boat ride wasn't as bumpy as I had expected. The trip was great, even though it was pretty chilly and cold that day. You can see some of the photos I took of the boat ride, the coastal cities, and the forts in my facebook photo albums.

Yungay
The day after I returned from Valdivia, I hopped on a bus to Yungay with my host sister to celebrate "el dieciocho" there since it gets pretty rough and dangerous in Chillan. And I guess Yungayinos just know how to celebrate indepdence day better. My host brother lives in Yungay with his family, and we were going to hang out with them that day. First we attended the city parade by the plaza, where I watched a whole lot of cueca dancing; the mayor give a long speech to a disrespectful whistling crowd; a parade of schools, preschools, centers for people with disabilities, senior citizens' clubs, and even an alcoholics anonymous-type group was represented; stray dogs trying to get in on the parade action; a procession of guasos on horses; and the cleanup of the lovely presents the horses left.

Later, we all drove to a nearby fonda, where we parked ourselves in one particular ramada, I think mainly because of its clever name, El Yungayino. Despite the bevy of delicious food available, we just drank some cokes because there was an asado (bbq) waiting for us at home. I was really craving a sopaipilla though, and I still am. Sopaipillas are basically circular, somewhat thick, flat pieces of fried dough, nothing more. When I first tried one, I didn't know what Chileans were raving about whenever they talked about them. But man, they've grown on me, and I could really go for one now, drenched in pebre (like salsa). Delish. I danced a little cumbia with my 40-something year old host brother, even danced a little with an old drunken man that wouldn't accept my refusals. Plus my host family kept pressuring me to dance with him, and in the end I was like what the hell. This is how fiestas patrias is done right? My host sister had told me about how her older sister's dream once was to dance with a drunk man from the campo during fiestas patrias. Now I can say I've lived this dream. The fonda also had a couple ramadas with typical county fair games, like dart-throwing, gunshot-aiming, and of ourse, foozball. The game ramadas were dominated by tables of old-school foozball tables. That was probably my favorite part of the whole day, playing foozball competitively with Julio, Camila, Cristian (my host nephews and niece, though they're like all my age), Daniela (a cousin), and my host sister. Man I suck at foozball, but it's so fun!

The day ended with a local cueca competition in the centro, a delicious asado dinner, a game of Jenga (called Timberrrr), and episodes of Ugly Betty and Brazil's Top Model.

The last couple days, I've just been bumming around in my PJs, watching episodes of the 2nd season of America's Best Dance Crew, and capitalizing on the free movie website. Oh lazy days. How I miss thee right now, as I think about my morning classes tomorrow.