Saturday, May 9, 2015

Sometimes Chileans do weird things

Like using hand soap in the shower- slightly annoying. There is never hand soap by the sink because people (obviously Mama or Camila or all of the above) keep putting it back in the shower. It's like a typical gel/liquid pump of hand soap too, not the kind I would imagine is the best to bathe with..To each his own. While I'm at it- I may as well mention that there is also no hand towel- perhaps because they never really have to use the bathroom and thus wash their hands in this bathroom....but for Ms. I have to pee every hour it is quite the problem.
Numero Dos= the other day when I was on the bus I saw a middle aged lady across the aisle putting on her makeup on the bus- no of course that's not the weird thing- the weird thing was that she was curling her eyelashes- with a SPOON. I kid you not. Half the time I see things in public I have to remind myself that although study abroad has been like a dream, I am in fact awake- like when I saw a mother holding her kid (maybe 2 years old) over the grass on the side of the sidewalk so that she could pee on the grass. I actually saw this on two occasions so I would say it's safe to say that this was not a one time thing.
Numero Tres= Chileans do strange things with their dranks, like mixing white wine, grenadine, pisco (Chilean brandy) and PINEAPPLE ICE CREAM all in one drink. And they call it a terremoto. Come on mis amigos- what does that one mean? They literally have created a drink and named it after a natural disaster that ceases to evade their land- an earthquake. It is named with good reason- these tragos (chilean word for drank) are damn strong. Actually let's be real- all of the drinks made here are much stronger. When you order at the bar they make the drink in front of you and I always just watch them pour pisco straight out of the bottle for a good 10 seconds- I'm talking like maybe 2+ shots in every standard drink. And drinks aren't even that expensive. In fact you don't want to know how much I paid for my very first terremoto at the Universidad de Chile party I somehow found myself in the midst of this last friday- A dollar and a quarter. A US DOLLAR and a quarter. It is wasn't half bad! The key is to mix the pineapple ice cream in real good so that you can't taste the cheap white wine. 
Let's back it up a little bit and lemme give you the low down on how I ended up imprisoned in the courtyard of the Law School of Universidad de Chile. 
It all started when I made an executive decision to get to know my U.Chile mentor a little better since I have a plane ticket and plans to visit her in two weeks. So when she invited me to go to a carrete with her- she conveyed this as being a casual, "I'll probably just have one beer with my friends and then leave" type party- of course I said yes. I mean why not pre-game the birthday party I was going to hit up later. Yes parents and family. I did just say pre-game. Sorry if that is too much- but the best stories are likely to come from my experiences in Chile when I am potentially have a blood alcohol level of slightly higher than 0.0 (only slightly!) Anywho- I invited Hannah to come with me because when you get invited to a Chilean event you typically need backup- a small talk buddy, escape buddy or a "what the heck did that Chilean just say to me" buddy. 

We were smiling before we discovered we were being held prisoner...

Once again Hannah had the brains to document this experience and thus I stole her pics- again

We met up with Andrea at a metro stop near the law school and walked over with her friends to wait in line for this shin-dig. Um what did I get myself into? There's a line and a cover....alright. 
There was an entire courtyard filled with Chileans, booze, cigarettes and great music. While I could done without the smokers- seriously Chile, have you heard of lung cancer? Every 16 year old and their mother smokes in this country (but actually)- in no time everyone was dancing. Andrea asked me if we have parties like this in the US. lolz- no Andrea, our universities don't sponsor parties every friday (apparently there is a carrete at one facultad or another just about every single friday) where students bring in alcohol, dance in the courtyard to a DJ and sell their own mixed drinks, tequila or jello shots for dirt cheap. Nah- that doesn't really happen that often at Tulane.

Hannah and I had our terremotos, took a jello shot and got enough pisco sour spilled on us that we determined it was time to peace out. Funny story. I never thought exiting a crowded party would be something that a security guard would try to prevent. Apparently there were so many people outside of the gates trying to get into this party that they were afraid if they opened the gates to let those of us who wanted to leave, then all the stranglers would rush in. It only took 30 minutes, a desperate search for another exit and some girl's temper tantrum (she screamed and jumped up and down a couple of times saying that she needed to be let out AHORA) before the guards agreed to raise the metal garage door "only a meter! only open it one meter high". We all darted out and claimed our sweet victory. And that is the story of how I escaped La Chile Party Prison. 
When you have 20 minutes to kill while the guards decide if they want to let you take selfies
Not a happy camper
I returned home, sobered up (not that I was drunk- I merely think it is quite funny that I sobered up in between parties, I think that is the first time I have rallied after one event involving alcohol and moving on to the next) ate some pasta, and google mapped how to get to my friend's birthday party. One bus, three metro stops and 25 minutes of walking around being lost, Hannah, Andrea and I finally found the apartment. 
Can you guess which one is which?
I had a great time talking to my Costa Rican friend (I met him a Mier-Po) and his Argentinean friend that tagged along. The best was that his friend Nicolas had a Scottish accent (He took english class in Argentina that were taught by Scottish teachers or something like that). I will admit we talked almost exclusively in english but they insisted that it was just faster that way. While some people insist that their spanish improves when they are drunk- I beg to differ. 

Until next time loves

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