While the announcement on board flight 533 were bilingual, the Spanish was easier to understand than the thickly-accented English. I must look really latina or have been the only American on board because the flight attendant only addressed me in Spanish primarily. I must also not be totally terrible at Spanish because she never tried English with me. But, there were definitely a few moments when she looked at me like I had an incredibly low IQ or an extra-long and continuous mental delay.
I managed to order vegetarian choices for both dinner and breakfast, figure out how to watch two movies with subtitles, and fasten my seatbelt en espanol. I even had an empty seat next to me - stretch out would be a generous overstatement, but I was able to sleep through most of the overnight flight. All small wins. The big reward? Looking out the window in the morning and seeing the Andes looming over the clouds.
After a torturous 2-hour experience at visas, immigrations and customs (again, I only spoke Spanish! And felt like a clueless moron only half the time!), I was warmly greeted by my good family friend Sandy. I felt terrible for such a delay in my arrival, but there really wasn't much I could do, so I tried to just not over-apologize and focus on my general excitement for finally being here! He llegado!
Sandy had a few work-related errands for his security company, so I got a full-city tour through the windshield of his stickshift Nissan. As we bumped our way through the city's streets, I started to pick out a few vaguely familiar names and symbols, like the Metro station logo, a large park, and the mountains, but mostly realized I had severely under-researched for my arrival. Notably, Santiago has a ton of graffiti and a ton of new construction. In our car chat, I learned that students here protest for free and socialized college education like they do in Spain, but here, unemployment is virtually zero. Massive immigrant communities come from Haiti and Korea. Santiago is often used as a global marketing test market, given its diverse population, manageable size (5 mil) and free successful economy.
When we started to wind out of the city, spinning through countless multilane roundabouts, I felt like this couldn't be real. One minute, you're caught between skyscrapers and the next, you're shimmying up a mountain-blasted hairline of a road that makes California Route 1 look like a wimp you give an A for effort just to be nice. And that's just the normal path into the fringed suburbs off Las Condes and into La Dehesa.
Sandy says when he and Karen moved here, there were cows all around and not a condo in sight. Now, you'd think Arizona's grandparent population lives embedded into the staggering cliffs off fields of orangey desert dirt. Then, you get to this family home and you think you're in some mod Bay Area neighborhood, with picturesque design out of an avant-garde travel edition of Ladies' Home Journal.
It's funny to be here and see the furniture and decorations I remember from their New York home piece by piece around the La Dehesa casa.
Sandy and I sat down on the porch for a coffee and snack of the greenest salted avocado on leftover matzah. The dryness of the no-longer holy crackers actually tasted great with the creamy spreadable veggie, and the early lunch was a welcome palate-cleanser from plane food. I feel like family here, like I'm at home - perhaps that's why I kept telling everyone I was 'moving' to Chile rather than visiting. Let's just hope I'm willing to leave come May 9.
Family housekeeper Ellie helped me get acquainted with the house and more comfortable with my Spanish - when I was younger, I was too nervous to really say much of anything beyond an hola, but I feel far more fluent with her already. We've discussed plans to visit her house and go on a weekend trip with her kids, and I successfully asked if I could use more hangers. Other than that, she brought to light the fact that I really have made practically no plans for this trip. Which is slightly problematic now that I'm here, and that's real.
Still, I'm the luckiest girl, showered, clean, and settled into a leafy-green stucco ranch with a pool the chilenos claim is too cool to use now because 'it's fall.'
But trust me, when it's this sunny and clearly above 60, a gringa just has to get her toes wet.
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