In chile people have at least three names. Most commonly they have four. For example, Lori would officially be, Lori Lee McLaren McLeod (makes me want to call her Lori Mac-Mac; also makes me want to call her dad Big Mac and her mom little Mac). The extra last name is carried around to help differentiate people, making it seem that there is either a scarcity of popular Chilean names or that there are way too many children!
In any case, in an attempt (I think) to bring in more names to the Spanish culture children are now being called English names. My cousin has a friend "John". But there is also a Jonathan, spelled "Yonaton" or a Brian spelled "Braiyan" or, possibly the best, a combo name "Brai-naton" (I put the hyphen for reading purposes otherwise it would read like Brain-aton).
As you can probably imagine, Justin has also become a popular name. But since "j" makes an "h" sound in Spanish, the spelling has to be modified. So, Justin becomes either Yastin or even better, Llastin, where the double "l" makes a similar to "j" sound in english. Imagine if that boy moved to an English speaking country!
So, this leads me to what my potential children would be named. Do I go English name and Spanish last name? That leaves him with a weird double cultural name, like Steven Perez or Lars Perez. Maybe I use a transitioning middle name, a name common to both languages like, Frank Benjamin Perez. Or maybe I just go all out and celebrate the double culture name with something like Wayne Lu Arquimides Perez.
Maybe it doesn't matter what I think because Lori would decide.
PS. My passport only has one last name
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Banano
During our final days in chile, we had some time to spend with my family. Uncles, aunts and cousins that I haven't see in over 20 years. It was amazing how quickly the bond forms and it makes me wonder what might have been had my family not immigrated to Canada over 35 years ago.
One thing that might have been is that I'd be wearing a fanny pack. The fanny pack, "banano" as it's called in chile is quite the thing. Men wear it, women wear it. Homeless people wear it (I don't know what they own that they would need a fanny pack for) and business men wear it (they keep cell phones, beepers and business cards inside). Some wear it around their waists - sometime forwards, sometimes to the side. Sometimes it slung over your shoulder (like a continental soldier) as you take a lazy walk through the park. Sometimes, they are voluminous and sometimes they are small enough to fit within the stomach fat rolls, like an additional appendage to your body. They can blend into your clothing if you choose to match colors or they can be an expression of your soul.
I found it quite unnerving as men would dig around their waists for their cell phones or keys. It looked like they would stuff their hands down their pants trying to find those last few coins. Maybe in the Southern Hemisphere where the kangaroos live, having a pouch is the thing to do.
I wonder what it would be like if your boss came to meetings with a fanny pack on? There she could keep her phone, gum, or maybe some Chapstick. Maybe it's a voluminous one where her daily calendar fits inside. Or a very small one that only fits a laser pointer for presentations.
Anyways, I had reserved fanny packs for special occasions, like traveling or people deal illegal substances. Either everyone in chile is traveling or dealing or I need to change my mindset.
PS. Google pics of fanny packs.
One thing that might have been is that I'd be wearing a fanny pack. The fanny pack, "banano" as it's called in chile is quite the thing. Men wear it, women wear it. Homeless people wear it (I don't know what they own that they would need a fanny pack for) and business men wear it (they keep cell phones, beepers and business cards inside). Some wear it around their waists - sometime forwards, sometimes to the side. Sometimes it slung over your shoulder (like a continental soldier) as you take a lazy walk through the park. Sometimes, they are voluminous and sometimes they are small enough to fit within the stomach fat rolls, like an additional appendage to your body. They can blend into your clothing if you choose to match colors or they can be an expression of your soul.
I found it quite unnerving as men would dig around their waists for their cell phones or keys. It looked like they would stuff their hands down their pants trying to find those last few coins. Maybe in the Southern Hemisphere where the kangaroos live, having a pouch is the thing to do.
I wonder what it would be like if your boss came to meetings with a fanny pack on? There she could keep her phone, gum, or maybe some Chapstick. Maybe it's a voluminous one where her daily calendar fits inside. Or a very small one that only fits a laser pointer for presentations.
Anyways, I had reserved fanny packs for special occasions, like traveling or people deal illegal substances. Either everyone in chile is traveling or dealing or I need to change my mindset.
PS. Google pics of fanny packs.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Buenos Aires is Hilarious
After Puesto Viejo, we went to the centre of Buenos Aires; the area of Puerto Madero. It is an old port, where a canal is lined with refurbished old warehouses that are now occupied by nice restaurants. Really quite a nice area. The downtown area is actually quite spectacular, unlike the downtown of Santiago which I found uninspiring (other areas of Santiago make it much more worthwhile to visit). It is full of old buildings, statues, parks and quaint little cafes, a glimpse of what Argentina was like when it was once one of the wealthiest countries in the world (or so they told me).
We took a city tour that covered most of the more famous areas and took in the feeling of the city on our walk through the neighborhood of San Telmo. Argentines seem to be a different mix of cultures than Chileans - a lot more of an Italian influence in particular. A lot more of a European influence in general, as immigration was high during Argentinas golden age. Lori and I would point out people that dressed in a weird manner (platform shoes seem to be the norm for women) or the large amounts of hair that the men would flaunt. At some point Lori pointed out a guy in very short shorts on a bike, shirtless with sweat dripping from him due to the physical exertion in he heat of Buenos Aires. He was wearing a white bucket hat and looked like he was a model for Abercrombie & Fitch. She said he was "funny". Well that opened the floodgates for me as I was now able to point out how "funny" the girls in Buenos Aires are. The range was from funny to serious, although there was some hilarity. It's not everyday that the person serving you water at a restaurant is Will Ferrel hilarious. We went to a tango show one evening and I've never laughed so much in my life. Now, I don't want to set expectations of Buenos Aires as a Comedy Central, because in truth there is a very sad and serious aspect to the city but I think people don't like to look at that part and instead focus on the funny side of life.
I wonder if my friend GP would say that I'm funny for my people.
We took a city tour that covered most of the more famous areas and took in the feeling of the city on our walk through the neighborhood of San Telmo. Argentines seem to be a different mix of cultures than Chileans - a lot more of an Italian influence in particular. A lot more of a European influence in general, as immigration was high during Argentinas golden age. Lori and I would point out people that dressed in a weird manner (platform shoes seem to be the norm for women) or the large amounts of hair that the men would flaunt. At some point Lori pointed out a guy in very short shorts on a bike, shirtless with sweat dripping from him due to the physical exertion in he heat of Buenos Aires. He was wearing a white bucket hat and looked like he was a model for Abercrombie & Fitch. She said he was "funny". Well that opened the floodgates for me as I was now able to point out how "funny" the girls in Buenos Aires are. The range was from funny to serious, although there was some hilarity. It's not everyday that the person serving you water at a restaurant is Will Ferrel hilarious. We went to a tango show one evening and I've never laughed so much in my life. Now, I don't want to set expectations of Buenos Aires as a Comedy Central, because in truth there is a very sad and serious aspect to the city but I think people don't like to look at that part and instead focus on the funny side of life.
I wonder if my friend GP would say that I'm funny for my people.
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Old Spot
We have left Chile and will stay in Argentina for 5 nights. Our first two nights were spent at an Estancia called Puesto Viejo. It's basically a ranch that is also a polo club. I never realized this before, but Argentina is known as a world class polo playing country, or so the Argentines tell me (thats one thing the Argentines are known for in south America - their "humility"; if you want to know how good they are at something, ask them, they will tell you). They offer polo lessons (which I didn't take) and horseback riding. We went on four different rides during the two nights that we were there.
Now, I don't know very much about horses, so the following are just my first impressions of what I thought about the horses.
- The animals are quite powerful and I can't imagine facing a charging cavalry with long wooden poles attempting to win a battle, like William Wallace did in the movie Braveheart.
- They seem to carry humans with ease and are quite gentle. I wondered if they get tired carrying us, but I think they are mostly just lazy.
- They don't look like the most intelligent beasts in the world. They plod along, head hanging, following the horse in front of them, mostly interested in nipping at some grass as they walked through a field. They spook easily, getting startled by small little snakes, and trip over the smallest divots in the ground.
- I wondered how an animal can control four legs, that looks so flimsy compared to their massive bodies, and have the perception and memory to avoid obstacles with their hind hooves. How can they walk on four legs?! I then wondered if the horses thought we were crazy for walking on two legs.
- I talked to the horses I rode and imagined they responded with the voice of Eyeore, the donkey from Winnie the Pooh. Not very intelligent sounding or particularly excited about anything.
- They need blinders, to avoid them from getting too excited about neighboring horses. That's like playing hide'n'go'seek with a child who covers their eyes and thinks they've disappeared.
- They seem to stand around all day, much like teenagers hanging out at a seven-eleven.
- They need to wear shoes, otherwise, they'd wreck their "feet".
- As we got farther and farther from their stables, the walk got slower and slower.
- why is it necessary to say "horseBACK" riding? Where else does one ride the horse? If horsehead riding existed then I could see the necessity to specify how one is riding.
I really liked the horses. I could get into horseback riding as a thing but I don't know what it would replace, as my time is limited.
I talked to one gaucho during one of the rides. I'm sure he laughed at my inability to control the horse and make it do what I wanted to do and how my body flailed around atop the horse when trotting (much like Woody, the toy story cowboy, a marionette, on strings). It came up that I played hockey in Canada, and he was astounded how people could maintain there balance on ice and commented how violent the sport was.
In the end, I rationalized to myself that under different circumstance I could be a gaucho. I would think that ice hockey was a strange sport and that horse manure was a natural smell.
Now, I don't know very much about horses, so the following are just my first impressions of what I thought about the horses.
- The animals are quite powerful and I can't imagine facing a charging cavalry with long wooden poles attempting to win a battle, like William Wallace did in the movie Braveheart.
- They seem to carry humans with ease and are quite gentle. I wondered if they get tired carrying us, but I think they are mostly just lazy.
- They don't look like the most intelligent beasts in the world. They plod along, head hanging, following the horse in front of them, mostly interested in nipping at some grass as they walked through a field. They spook easily, getting startled by small little snakes, and trip over the smallest divots in the ground.
- I wondered how an animal can control four legs, that looks so flimsy compared to their massive bodies, and have the perception and memory to avoid obstacles with their hind hooves. How can they walk on four legs?! I then wondered if the horses thought we were crazy for walking on two legs.
- I talked to the horses I rode and imagined they responded with the voice of Eyeore, the donkey from Winnie the Pooh. Not very intelligent sounding or particularly excited about anything.
- They need blinders, to avoid them from getting too excited about neighboring horses. That's like playing hide'n'go'seek with a child who covers their eyes and thinks they've disappeared.
- They seem to stand around all day, much like teenagers hanging out at a seven-eleven.
- They need to wear shoes, otherwise, they'd wreck their "feet".
- As we got farther and farther from their stables, the walk got slower and slower.
- why is it necessary to say "horseBACK" riding? Where else does one ride the horse? If horsehead riding existed then I could see the necessity to specify how one is riding.
I really liked the horses. I could get into horseback riding as a thing but I don't know what it would replace, as my time is limited.
I talked to one gaucho during one of the rides. I'm sure he laughed at my inability to control the horse and make it do what I wanted to do and how my body flailed around atop the horse when trotting (much like Woody, the toy story cowboy, a marionette, on strings). It came up that I played hockey in Canada, and he was astounded how people could maintain there balance on ice and commented how violent the sport was.
In the end, I rationalized to myself that under different circumstance I could be a gaucho. I would think that ice hockey was a strange sport and that horse manure was a natural smell.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Mosquitoes
I was bitten by mosquitoes one day (I don't exactly know when) and woke up the next morning with red dots on my body. I've been bitten by mosquitoes before, many times in Canada, but it's been quite a while since they have itched as much as these have. The itchiness associated with these bites is quite phenomenal, to the point that putting on a shirt and having the clothing rub against the bite is enough to ignite the raging scratching fury!
I figure I must be more allergic to Chilean mosquitoes than I am to Canadian ones. Perhaps the chilean mosquitoes are unfamiliar with my camping habits of swatting mosquitoes and collecting them in a heap by the fireside table as a warning to the mosquito population that their nemesis is near? Perhaps chilean mosquitoes are unaware of the hatred I bear towards them? Their aren't many things that infuriate me to the point of entering a destructive rage, but mosquito bites are one of them (another is getting hit in the head - leaving a cabinet door open, bending down to pick up a quarter and then standing up only to knock my head against the open cabinet door, turns me into the incredible hulk where I lose my mind and want to destroy everything in the room). These bites are puffy and red and so very difficult to refrain from scratching.
I don't know why, but I tease myself by gently scratching around the bite in an attempt to ease the irritation. The end result is a test of mental fortitude, resisting the temporary satisfaction of a vigorous scratch. I'm pretty sure you can see the strain on my face as my body clenches every muscle in an attempt to fight off the vile temptation of temporary scratching relief. I scratch myself by proxy, using an instrument (like a pen), fooling myself into thinking that the instrument is scratching and that it's not actually me. I "X" the bite with my fingernail, in a ritualistic manner, exorcising the demon itch. I show Lori the physical damage that these foul insects have done to me, yet little does she realize the psychological damage the bites have carried. I lie awake at night wondering when the next bite will come, yearning to catch the next mosquitoes in the act. While in bed, I flail wildly, like a horse tail would, smacking at non-existent mosquitoes that i "feel". I over heat under the bed covers, all in an attempt to shield myself from further attacks. I try to enter a zen like state, going to an itch free place where soothing cool water or aloe vera is covering my body (I don't know why I go to that place in my mind).
It's really a testament of mental strength when I ward off the itch attack. My victory brings a smile to my face. I can do anything I put my mind to! I can probably walk on hot coals and not feel a thing. I can use the force to move objects with my mind!
Then Lori gives me a hug, gently rubbing the mosquito bites again, restarting the process ...
PS. More la silla
I figure I must be more allergic to Chilean mosquitoes than I am to Canadian ones. Perhaps the chilean mosquitoes are unfamiliar with my camping habits of swatting mosquitoes and collecting them in a heap by the fireside table as a warning to the mosquito population that their nemesis is near? Perhaps chilean mosquitoes are unaware of the hatred I bear towards them? Their aren't many things that infuriate me to the point of entering a destructive rage, but mosquito bites are one of them (another is getting hit in the head - leaving a cabinet door open, bending down to pick up a quarter and then standing up only to knock my head against the open cabinet door, turns me into the incredible hulk where I lose my mind and want to destroy everything in the room). These bites are puffy and red and so very difficult to refrain from scratching.
I don't know why, but I tease myself by gently scratching around the bite in an attempt to ease the irritation. The end result is a test of mental fortitude, resisting the temporary satisfaction of a vigorous scratch. I'm pretty sure you can see the strain on my face as my body clenches every muscle in an attempt to fight off the vile temptation of temporary scratching relief. I scratch myself by proxy, using an instrument (like a pen), fooling myself into thinking that the instrument is scratching and that it's not actually me. I "X" the bite with my fingernail, in a ritualistic manner, exorcising the demon itch. I show Lori the physical damage that these foul insects have done to me, yet little does she realize the psychological damage the bites have carried. I lie awake at night wondering when the next bite will come, yearning to catch the next mosquitoes in the act. While in bed, I flail wildly, like a horse tail would, smacking at non-existent mosquitoes that i "feel". I over heat under the bed covers, all in an attempt to shield myself from further attacks. I try to enter a zen like state, going to an itch free place where soothing cool water or aloe vera is covering my body (I don't know why I go to that place in my mind).
It's really a testament of mental strength when I ward off the itch attack. My victory brings a smile to my face. I can do anything I put my mind to! I can probably walk on hot coals and not feel a thing. I can use the force to move objects with my mind!
Then Lori gives me a hug, gently rubbing the mosquito bites again, restarting the process ...
PS. More la silla
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Valle de elqui & the kiss hello
While in La Serena (google map it - ill put a map in later), Lori and I went on a day tour to "Valle de Elqui", the region where chile produces most of their national drink, pisco. Picso is made out of grapes and, from what the tour guide told us, is the equivalent of a grape scotch.
The tour started off with a stop at a dam - a dam that holds barely any water. The valley is part of the atacama desert (driest place on earth) and it has been in a drought for over 5 years. The government had experimented with artificially generating rain (seeding clouds, I believe) but has been unsuccessful in five tries. It's seems like a pretty serious problem for a region that is dependent on agriculture. The valley is quite beautiful, though one can clearly see what the valley would look like once the water runs out.
The next stop of note was for lunch where we had meals made in solar ovens. It took over 4 hours to cook the meal and it was quite delicious. We also stopped at a pisco distillery where we saw the entire pisco making process. Quite interesting, and the pisco was good too! We had some other stops along the way and on the way back and it was quite a good time.
The real thing that I noticed however was the tour guide. He spoke english, and for Lori's sake, he would do the tour in both Spanish and English. It took twice the time for him to go through the tour but he was one of those guys that clearly liked to hear himself talk and so I think he enjoyed doing it. In fact, there were times when he was doing the English version where Lori wasn't even present to listen.
There was about 6 women on the tour and the manner in which he spoke to them was .... interesting. I will list off some of the phrases he used when addressing the ladies along with the (literal) translation.
1. Mi amor - my love
2. Mamita rica - sweet mommy
3. Corazon - heart
4. Mamita linda - pretty mommy
5. Tesoro - treasure
So it would be something like
"any questions? Yes, sweet mommy?"
"mind your step, heart"
"my pleasure, treasure"
My biased view was that it was more concentrated on the better looking girls on the trip to the point where the not so attractive girls weren't even offered a hand getting off the mini-bus. This sort of behavior would certainly not be seen in north America. Maybe it's something I should try to bring back to Canada? That along with the kiss hello. The extent of the kiss hello is amazing too! There is never an inappropriate time for the kiss hello. Bank teller busy with a client? Excuse me for a second for the kiss hello a colleague. Immigration officer dealing with a difficult passport? It's only polite to allow a co-worker kiss. Perhaps you are meeting someone for the first time? Nothing says "nice to meet you" like a kiss hello.
Potential kiss hello scenarios that would become common place in Canada after I import it:
1. Kiss hello your personal trainer
2. Kiss hello your admin assistant
3. Kiss hello security in your work building
4. Kiss hello your dry cleaner
5. Kiss hello your boss
I guess I should point out that there is no man-man kiss hello, and its only on one cheek. Might not seem too bad I guess, but I should mention the large proportion of Chilean men with mustaches. I imagine the hello process would become quite an ordeal after a while.
PS. One more tour guide story - As good as his English was, if he didn't know a word, he would simply English-ify the Spanish version of the word. My favorite was transforming the orca whales into "Orc" whales.
The tour started off with a stop at a dam - a dam that holds barely any water. The valley is part of the atacama desert (driest place on earth) and it has been in a drought for over 5 years. The government had experimented with artificially generating rain (seeding clouds, I believe) but has been unsuccessful in five tries. It's seems like a pretty serious problem for a region that is dependent on agriculture. The valley is quite beautiful, though one can clearly see what the valley would look like once the water runs out.
The next stop of note was for lunch where we had meals made in solar ovens. It took over 4 hours to cook the meal and it was quite delicious. We also stopped at a pisco distillery where we saw the entire pisco making process. Quite interesting, and the pisco was good too! We had some other stops along the way and on the way back and it was quite a good time.
The real thing that I noticed however was the tour guide. He spoke english, and for Lori's sake, he would do the tour in both Spanish and English. It took twice the time for him to go through the tour but he was one of those guys that clearly liked to hear himself talk and so I think he enjoyed doing it. In fact, there were times when he was doing the English version where Lori wasn't even present to listen.
There was about 6 women on the tour and the manner in which he spoke to them was .... interesting. I will list off some of the phrases he used when addressing the ladies along with the (literal) translation.
1. Mi amor - my love
2. Mamita rica - sweet mommy
3. Corazon - heart
4. Mamita linda - pretty mommy
5. Tesoro - treasure
So it would be something like
"any questions? Yes, sweet mommy?"
"mind your step, heart"
"my pleasure, treasure"
My biased view was that it was more concentrated on the better looking girls on the trip to the point where the not so attractive girls weren't even offered a hand getting off the mini-bus. This sort of behavior would certainly not be seen in north America. Maybe it's something I should try to bring back to Canada? That along with the kiss hello. The extent of the kiss hello is amazing too! There is never an inappropriate time for the kiss hello. Bank teller busy with a client? Excuse me for a second for the kiss hello a colleague. Immigration officer dealing with a difficult passport? It's only polite to allow a co-worker kiss. Perhaps you are meeting someone for the first time? Nothing says "nice to meet you" like a kiss hello.
Potential kiss hello scenarios that would become common place in Canada after I import it:
1. Kiss hello your personal trainer
2. Kiss hello your admin assistant
3. Kiss hello security in your work building
4. Kiss hello your dry cleaner
5. Kiss hello your boss
I guess I should point out that there is no man-man kiss hello, and its only on one cheek. Might not seem too bad I guess, but I should mention the large proportion of Chilean men with mustaches. I imagine the hello process would become quite an ordeal after a while.
PS. One more tour guide story - As good as his English was, if he didn't know a word, he would simply English-ify the Spanish version of the word. My favorite was transforming the orca whales into "Orc" whales.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
La Silla
We went north after leaving Viña del Mar and headed to the city of La Serena. There are a couple of things that I wanted to do while up north (it's actually not that north, but from a Santiago-centric perspective it's north) and one of them was to visit observatories. The first one we went to was supposed to be a 2 hour drive from our hotel. It turned out to be a slow winding road. It was also very foggy and the 2 hour drive quickly became a 3 hour drive.
With the amount of fog and cloud cover I was very worried as to the visibility of stars. As we kept driving and climbed the mountain range, it seemed as though there was an invisible line where all clouds were no longer allowed to be and once we crossed that line, it was blue skies ahead!
After about 2.5 hours we finally could see the observatory - at the peak of one of the smaller mountains. The drive up was a sequence of switch backs and it seemed as though we driving to Mars. It was very cool.
The observatory was at an altitude of 2400 meters. I had a bit of tightness in my head, I thought it might be some altitude sickness. I experimented a little bit by exerting myself physically, taking stairs two at a time, holding my breath while walking, clenching my leg muscles while taking the tour, etc. I had no clear scientific evidence that I could control the sickness.
In any case, the telescopes were huge with 8m radius mirrors. The telescopes are there as a part of some European astronomy consortium and this place in Chile was chosen because of the number of cloudless days and lack of light pollution. I was hoping the tour was going to be given by Gunter or Sven, the euro scientist with an awesome accent but instead it was Maria and Juan. Maria would give us the English tour and she would speak for 2 minutes. Juan talked for 15 in Spanish. Lori asked me what the difference was and I couldn't really say. They said the same things, just a bit different.
I wondered what it would be like to work there. Sleeping during the day, working at night, under the natural lights. Isolated with a select few people and a bunch of computers. I think astronomy is cool but I don't think it's that cool. Geophysics sounds pretty good to me in that respect.
With the amount of fog and cloud cover I was very worried as to the visibility of stars. As we kept driving and climbed the mountain range, it seemed as though there was an invisible line where all clouds were no longer allowed to be and once we crossed that line, it was blue skies ahead!
After about 2.5 hours we finally could see the observatory - at the peak of one of the smaller mountains. The drive up was a sequence of switch backs and it seemed as though we driving to Mars. It was very cool.
The observatory was at an altitude of 2400 meters. I had a bit of tightness in my head, I thought it might be some altitude sickness. I experimented a little bit by exerting myself physically, taking stairs two at a time, holding my breath while walking, clenching my leg muscles while taking the tour, etc. I had no clear scientific evidence that I could control the sickness.
In any case, the telescopes were huge with 8m radius mirrors. The telescopes are there as a part of some European astronomy consortium and this place in Chile was chosen because of the number of cloudless days and lack of light pollution. I was hoping the tour was going to be given by Gunter or Sven, the euro scientist with an awesome accent but instead it was Maria and Juan. Maria would give us the English tour and she would speak for 2 minutes. Juan talked for 15 in Spanish. Lori asked me what the difference was and I couldn't really say. They said the same things, just a bit different.
I wondered what it would be like to work there. Sleeping during the day, working at night, under the natural lights. Isolated with a select few people and a bunch of computers. I think astronomy is cool but I don't think it's that cool. Geophysics sounds pretty good to me in that respect.
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