muevete lo que tu madre te dio

I can't believe I've already been here almost three weeks. I feel like I still know so little. I suppose three weeks isn't that much time, and I shouldn't put such high expectations on myself to walk & talk like a native already, but when I consider the fact that about 30 percent of my time here has already passed, it just puts the pressure on.

This weekend I finally went out at night, gracias a Dios. I really don't think I could have handled another weekend spent watching Disney movies on YouTube. (You laugh because you think I'm joking. I'm not.) ((That said, I did spend a good chunk of this weekend in front of the TV. But it was the Argentina game, Avatar and 24, so I feel a little better about it.))

So yes, luckily for me, the two young people at work agreed to show me around the town. On Friday night, Brad (American), Alexandra (Portuguese) and I went to barrio Bellavista, a neighborhood across the river where the nightlife ranges from sanitized Patio Bellavista to a sketchy Ave-like street called Pio Nono ("Usually a no-no," Brad explained.) Also has one of Pablo Neruda's houses - La Chascona. Apparently he built it there for a mistress of his because he wanted it to be out of the way. We stood outside it at night; there are 5 stone slabs set in the ground near the street, with one of his poems engraved on them.

He olvidado tu voz, tu voz alegre
He olvidado tus ojos

(I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice
I have forgotten your eyes)

We only stood there for a moment, but it was a beautiful moment indeed. Picture the little house, tucked away at the foot of a hill, dark sky overhead, the poem barely visible in the dim light of the street. I don't know why that moment has stuck with me so heavily, but it felt like a defining instant in my time here in Chile. I felt young in a good way, an alive way, as if the whole world was about to unfold before me. And perhaps it is.

/end aside.

After that, we went to three different spots - first, a very classy restaurant where we sat outside on little cushions, ate bite-size empanadas and talked about the market. Second, a big, modern-looking bar with way too many couples making out and really bad 80s music (where I was made to dance), and third, the upper floor of a patio restaurant where I forced myself to drink wine. (Which is never going to happen again. Blech.)

All in all, a highly satisfactory night. And I probably couldn't have asked for two better companions to show me around.

Then Saturday night, I met up with a girl I met at church (English-speaking foreigner church! Woot.) and went with her roommates and her to the California Cantina, which is a total gringo bar, for its 4th of July party. We talked about the hot Spanish football players and made inappropriate jokes (I have yet to find the Spanish equivalent of "that's what she said!") and felt like old friends after only one pisco sour.

After the gringas, I took a cab back to Bellavista to meet Alex at a Brasilian bar, and that was probably my favorite experience thus far in Santiago. She had been invited there by her trainer, a Chilean guy named Cristian who had a constant smile and couldn't sit still. Cristian wouldn't let my insecurities hold me back, and pulled me onto the dance floor amid my protestations that I was a white girl and therefore had no dancing capacity, and showed me how to move like a chilena. It was the first time I've ever enjoyed dancing, really and truly. Even though he kept pulling my chin up so I couldn't watch my feet.

So yes. I'm finally getting out, meeting people, having fun...all the stuff I'm supposed to do. It's starting to look like maybe I won't leave Chile with no friends. Whew.

Anyway, tomorrow's another day of feeling inadequate and hopelessly ignorant, and that takes a lot of energy. So I best be heading off to dormir.

Love always,
molly