Living Museums

          Oftentimes we learn about horrifying things that happen in the world, go to a museum or monument to learn about it, try to make it more accessible to our personal lives, and maybe gain a shred of sympathy. We return to our comfortable lives and maintain a separation: a mentality that whatever story being told "belongs" in a museum and doesn't exist in the real world. But the stories of Chile are not locked in a museum, they live and breathe in the streets everyday.
          I had the opportunity to talk with some individuals about their experiences before, during, and after the dictatorship in Chile. Here are two anecdotes I remember clearly:
           Someone who was a child during during the dictatorship lived in a house with pillars in front of it. The military would use them for cover if there was gunfire in the streets. Her mother would put her in the bathtub to ensure that no stray bullets would hit her through the walls. It sounded like this happened on more than one occasion.
          I spoke with someone else, an adult during the dictatorship, who told me that she was making her way home from a party with a friend. They were in the street after the toque de queda (curfew), and they ran into a truck full of the military. They were stopped, and she was accompanied home by a soldier. She never saw her friend again and, to this day, has no idea what happened to him.
          The conversations were never planned, the stories would rise up in conversation and drift away as the topic was changed. I have no way of empathizing or relating to what they were saying; I had no idea how to respond, if I even should respond, and I would wonder how many more stories are told everyday or waiting to be discovered. I think the best thing to do with situations you can't understand is just listen and try in whatever way to place yourself in their shoes, in their life, in that moment.
          Parents of children who lived this reality desperately want a better future for their children, and want to ensure that their lives are easier than their own. I noticed that in the classroom, students were extremely insecure and did not trust their own decisions. I talked with the teacher I helped about this, wondering if there was more to this issue than what I saw on the surface (lack of motivation to learn English). She responded immediately that a lot of it has to do with the way parents are raising their children in the aftermath of their experiences living through the dictatorship. They want their children to have easier lives, and ensure they never have to live anything close to what they experienced. In my school, one way this appeared was through ensuring their children had an "easy" time through high school. It's not my place to answer these questions (is it even my place to ask them in this context?): to what extent can you shelter your children from the world? Do children learn best from their own experiences, or from stories told? How can we ensure that our children live comfortable lives, but maintain work ethic, empathy, and the desire to help others?
          In my place in life, I'm just starting to consider these questions, and maybe I'll have a tiny answer in 10 or so years. Until then, I can only ponder...

A few of my students!

Sprawling City, Limited Connection

          It's hard to talk to a Chilean on the street, especially in Santiago. The teacher I was assisting said that this is because Chileans like having a low-profile, since they are naturally isolated from the rest of the world with mountains and ocean. It's comfortable to be used to your own people and not open up to strangers easily, and being in a huge city makes it that much easier: you can be anonymous. That anonymity puts up a wall and makes it harder to see those walking down the street as people just like yourself, wandering around wondering what to do with their lives.
          This is mainly why I became much more critical of Santiago during my second round in Chile. It also may have been because I was there during the winter, when the skies are a constant, suffocating, polluted gray. That environment would make anyone exhausted. Whenever I would get on the metro, I would mostly see detached, angry faces avoiding eye contact. I learned that few people are here because they actually love the city. Santiago is where all the opportunities are: the jobs with money, the best universities, and semi-accessible quality healthcare. I've never heard of a country that is so centralized: all of the government and institutions that offer a shred of social mobility are trapped in one place. For example, university students hoping to move upward in social class are often those who already have the means to do so; travel expenses, living expenses, and tuition at the highest quality universities make it nearly impossible for the lower class to get an elite education. So Santiago is the most attractive for those looking to move up but repellent to those who have been there for a long time, and it creates a weird dynamic that I couldn't wrap my head around in the limited time I was living as a semi-real person this time around. There's always more to learn, and it makes me sad I wasn't there longer to understand this dynamic better.
          One thing I learned about myself: I love to strike up conversations with strangers in line, smile and make eye contact with people I walk by, and laugh on the street for no reason. That, to me, is home and how I truly want to live.

Santiago as viewed from the Saltos de Apoquindo trail

Family and Independence

          When people think about Latin American culture, three things tend to dominate people's perception of the place:  "they dance salsa, eat spicy food, and think family is important." I was guilty of thinking that stereotype was true myself several years ago as well (you know what I'm gonna say... you can't really know something until you experience it blah blah blah). Here's my contribution to the efforts to mythbust some stereotypes and contribute my own perspective:

• Myth #1: "They dance salsa!" There are several more Latin American music beats/dances than salsa (merengue, reggaeton, cumbia, cueca...) and not everyone goes salsa dancing on Tuesdays at Famous Dave's. Although I would say that it is true that most Latin Americans dance better than most people from the US. Grinding and twerking are stupid.
• Myth #2: "They eat spicy food!" Mexican food is spicy. Mexico is not the entirety of Latin America. Mexico borders the US... but there are dozens of very different countries south of their border! Traditional Chilean food is the least spiciest food ever (it's great for this midwesterner!) and from what I ate in Bolivia, their food doesn't seem spicy either.
• Myth #3: "Family is important!" This one is a lot more complicated to explain. It's true! But the phrasing leaves much to be desired. "Family is important." But what does that mean? Does that mean that in the US we don't care about our families? I know that's complete b.s. Most don't understand why, and on what basis, we make that claim.

          I feel like this time around I'm gaining a better understanding of what the whole "family is important" idea consists of. The teacher I assist helped me understand that in a nutshell, it's much more advantageous to spend more time with your family because you receive support from those who really love you, and equally as important, those who really know you. Your siblings and parents are the longest friends you'll ever have, so why not reap all the benefits for as long as possible? This is in stark contrast with the US; where we're taught to prize independence above all else and that if you work hard as an individual you can get what you want (American dream, anyone?)

          The balance between family and independence is one that I've never really considered before. I always knew one system, and didn't understand the other until I really lived it. There's good and bad in each extreme, the Latin American family and the US independence.  Each way of life has its advantages and consequences, which I'll try to hash out in terms of observations I've had in Chile with my students, friends and myself.
          Chileans understand that you can't go it alone, and need to depend on others for support and guidance. "Chile solidario" is a phrase Chileans like to use to describe their country, and although sometimes I disagree with that statement (no one talks to strangers or smiles at each other on the street... maybe that's just my definition of solidarity), it is clear that familiar ties help form a strong, interconnected people. This is one advantage I see in the family system: maintaining close ties and acting on them helps people to know they are never alone and can trust others. It allows people to feel vulnerable because they know they have a support system to fall back on. In the US, on the other hand, people are very individualistic and feel like they only need to depend on themselves. Instead of feeling really connected with each other, we're very competitive and don't appreciate the need for a familiar system as much as in other places. As a result, we often feel lonely, reject help, and don't allow ourselves to open up to others in a way that's more rewarding than just seeing how they can help us along our selfish paths.
          While the familiar system helps people trust and open up, it also creates (from my perspective) an undesirable influence on the development of youth. It's one thing to depend on others for help when you need it, but it becomes a problem when you depend on others so much that you can't trust yourself. And this isn't just a critique on Latin American culture, it's a comment for anyone involved in helping kids realize their abilities. My students are incredibly insecure and constantly ask me if they're doing it right and rarely assertively make their own decisions. Parents desperately want to keep their children safe and create an easier life for them, and it's easy in the bubble of the family unit. But it's incredibly important that children learn to depend on themselves, trust themselves, know their limits, and most importantly recognize their own potential. If they are taught that life is more difficult when they go it alone, it's almost like teaching them to be scared of their own potential. That won't help change anything for the future. But this is all coming from the perspective of la gringa, which might have no place in this conversation or context.
          Time to cue the cheesy quotes! :) These two stood out to me when I was growing up, and have since returned to the front of my mind while writing this post.

"Don't ask what the world needs; ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what this world needs is more people who have come alive." -Howard Thurman

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people will not feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others." -Marianne Williamson (You can ignore the religious-ness of this quote and it's still pretty darn cool)

It's important to keep a healthy balance between independence and family ties. In the end, family is the largest and longest collection of weirdos you get to spend your life with!