Aneya: Lessons Learned from Living in Chile

Adios, Chile! Hola, USA!

Well, ladies and gentlemen, the time has come. I'll be leaving Chile for good on Monday. Yes, it's partly due to the robbery, and the fact I feel less safe now (not to mention I have no readily available money). And it's also just time to move on. It's sad, but true. Lauren and I were planning to leave in a few weeks anyway, I'm just speeding up the process. I've been thinking a lot about the past 6 months I've spent here, and about all that I've experienced, and most importantly, all that I've learned. Here's a few things I've discovered:

1. I'm not as good at languages as I thought: I've always thought of myself as someone who can catch on to a new language fairly quickly, who has a good ear, a fairly good accent. I learned French quickly in France, why wouldn't the same happen in Chile? Because in France I was 13, and here I'm 23. There's a major difference between learning a language as a kid and as an adult. Yes, my Spanish has greatly improved, but I'm definitely not fluent.

2. I need diversity to live. Diversity in all aspects of society. Racially, religiously, socially. Being in a country as homogenous as Chile has made me realize how much I love the States, just for the diversity of its people.

3. Kindness is relative. Lauren told me the other day she never realized how mean people were in LA until she came to Chile. And it's so true. People here (for the most part) are so warm, kind, compassionate, generous and it's heartening to see. It also makes you realize how rude people are in the U.S. (especially in LA).

4. After visiting Buenos Aires for a week, I came back to Chile with a new appreciation for it's public serves. The streets of Buenos Aires were filthy at night, open garbage bags spilling out onto the street. The buses and metros were older, rustier, and there was no such thing as a Bip! card, you had to use coins (and there was a national shortage of those) which was annoying and time consuming. Being in Buenos Aires reminded me of a what a clean, modern and efficient city Santiago is.

5. Just because people tell you it'll be easy to get a job, doesn't mean it's true. That is a lesson I learned the hard way. Everyone I talked to in the States, in the TEFL program I took, told me how easy it would be to find a job. "Just start speaking English and they'll hire you on the spot!" How wrong they were. Never take anything for granted.

6. I can survive an 8.8 earthquake and live to tell about it. This was another hard lesson to learn, since for a few weeks there Lauren and I were both super sad, lonely and scared. But we never once said we wanted to go home. We fought through our sadness, we joined the Red Cross, we helped where we could, and we moved on. I'm proud of us for that.

7. Being unemployed is fun....until it's not. We tried to make the best of our unemployment, and for a while, we did. We made separate trips to the South, we went to Temuco, we did little trips to Valparaiso, to Vina del Mar, we went to Mendoza, we discovered everything that Santiago had to offer. And then, there was nothing else to do. Our money was running out, and it was getting cold. That's when things slowed down, and we both wished more than anything to get a job. But it never happened. And that's when we realized that being unemployed....kinda sucks.

8. I realized that I cannot date anyone who has the following attributes: self righteous, condescending, misogynistic, self pitying, preachy, extremely stubborn (extremely anything, for that matter) small minded, can't think for themselves, easily influenced, and most importantly: I can't date someone who wants to fundamentally change who I am. Not. Gonna. Happen.

9. This one is really for Lauren: Don't talk to strangers! Just because they look normal, or they look like they need help, doesn't mean you need to be "nice" and talk to them. Just ignore them. It may sound mean, but it can help you avoid ugly situations (such as crazy gypsies attacking you). In other words: Trust no one.

10. And last, but not least. Never, I repeat, NEVER put anything valuable in backpack, in a large city, in any kind of public transportation. If you insist on using a backpack, turn it around so it's facing the front of you (you'll risk looking an idiot, but that's fine. I looked like even MORE of an idiot when my bag was stolen). Also, never let your guard down. Not for ONE minute. Not even when you're exhausted and hungry and completely out of it. Stay alert. As Mad-Eye Moody liked to say "Constant Vigilance!"

All in all, these past 6 months have been an emotional roller-coaster, to say the least. I honestly came to Chile with no expectations, I had no real knowledge of the country and its people, no real agenda (apart from getting a job and exploring). I never would have imaged half the things that happened, both good and bad. I met some amazing people, I experienced both beautiful and sad things, and I lived to tell about it all. What I loved most about this trip has been this blog. It's been our baby, and we nurtured and cared for her as best we could. I hope you all enjoyed reading it, because I truly loved writing it.

Thanks for reading, and so long, for now!

-- Aneya

Aneya: Love Letter to Chile?

Is this the t-shirt I'll be wearing home? (It's kinda cute, so maybe....)

Lauren and I were going through some of our old blog entries the other day (we're almost to 150, can you believe it? Go us!) and we realized that sometimes our blog sounds like one big love letter to Chile. And to be fair, we do love lots of things about this amazing country, and its people. We've talked extensively about their incredibly efficient public transportation system (the regional buses, the metropolitan buses, the metros) about the great free public services the city has to offer (free dance class in the park! piano stairs at the metro!) We've talked about how much we love the kind, caring people of this land. We've talked about how much we love our neighborhood (especially the bars around us). But that's not to say that Chile is perfect. Far from it.

There are some things I can't stand about Santiago: the noise, the smog, the pollution, the endless traffic, the fact that every bus and metro is packed to the limit with sweaty Chileans. The very distinct class barriers (the rich, white Chileans live up near the Andes, the poor ones and the Peruvians live downtown). The jotes (those guys that like to holler), while sometimes amusing, can be downright frightening for a girl walking by herself at night. The strip clubs, although also amusing, can be an eyesore (and right next a church? Really?)

The men here can't seem to take a joke, and they really don't like being called gay. That is the worst possible thing to say to a man here. And of course the gay and lesbian community have absolutely no rights here, even women are treated unequally at times. Like Lauren said, sometimes this place reminds us of America in the 1950s, and although some things are nice (the chivalry) others are not (the constant smoking, the oppression of women).

Another thing I really can't stand is the homogeny here. Not only does everyone look the same, but everyone shares the same religion (Christianity, of course). The conservative nature of Christianity really permeates the culture in a way I've never experienced before. I've never been told how much to drink by a man, or how I'm supposed to behave. I've never been segregated because of my spirituality, never been told I'm not good enough because I don't share the same religious beliefs as someone else. It's a strange thing to experience, and although I've met lots of really nice, easygoing Christians, I've also met a fair share of indignant, self righteous ones that I'd rather not be around.

Every country has their good and bad qualities, not just Chile. I would never say that the U.S. is perfect, it's far from it, in fact. But I still love it, I still call it my home. I have to say though, the good does outweigh the bad here in Chile. This has been such an eye opening experience, I knew it would be different from living in France, but I didn't know just how much Chile would change me. But it has. And I'm happy it did.

-- Aneya

Aneya: Time

Time is a funny thing. In high school, time seemed to drag by at a glacial pace. The fact that my high school in France had the longest school day in the history of the world (8:30 -5:30) didn't help. But everything just seemed so slooooow. When am I gonna leave this wretched place? When do I get to move out, be on my own, be independent, be free? When is this torturous school year finally over? And then, one day, it was. Exams were done, the pool was open, I was ready to spread my proverbial wings and fly. And that I did. All the way to California.

Once I got to La-La Land everything seemed to go by in a blink. I don't know if it's the pacing of university or being surrounded by new friends your very first day. But with a blink of an eye it's already the end of sophomore year, and you can't remember how you got there.

Traveling, of course, screws up your sense of time completely. "What day is it?" "What time is it here?" "What the hell does 19:25 mean?" Trips are never long enough, and you can't believe it's been 2 weeks already and you have to pack it in. This extended journey, on the other hand, didn't have that problem, as we had no return date. Time is a funny thing. Usually, if you're unemployed, you have no rhythm, or schedule to your everyday life. You just kind of float about, and it can make the days seem endless.

These past few months in Chile have gone by so fast, Lauren and I really can't believe it. Especially since we haven't had a steady job this whole time. But we've been on the move constantly (if you recall) traveling and meeting people, experiencing everything we can. It's been an amazing journey, one I wouldn't change for the world, I only wish we had more time. This past month of May has been the slowest, because we haven't been doing much of anything, just hanging around Santiago, trying to save our money (which is no fun at all).

But we realized that we don't want to be in trapped in our apartment, doing nothing for the rest of our time in Chile. We want to be out there, experiencing all this incredibly country has to offer. So next month (which will, sadly, be our last) we're going out with a bang! We're going to cram in as much activity in one month as humanly possible. Because when we leave this place we want to know we did as much as we could, with the resources we had.

Like I said, time is a funny thing. Sometimes I wish she'd just stop, for a moment, and let us all be.

-- Aneya

Aneya: Making Friends

Making friends already! And they're all Chilean! (Except Stephen).

A couple weeks after the earthquake, my mom was concerned about me. Not because of the constant, terrifying aftershocks, or the tsunami warnings or the lack of food. No, she was concerned because she realized that all I really had in this country was Lauren. Of course, I had Daniela to lean on too. But she was busy helping her own family calm down, and working for World Vision. To be in a foreign land, all by yourself, after a major natural disaster is a really scary experience. Not having your family or friends to reassure you that everything's going to be ok. Of course I was skyping both my parents constantly, and all my worried friends were taking over my Facebook wall. But still. It's not the same as having them all here in person.

"You need to go make some friends, Aneya" My mom said to me one day, on the phone. "You and Lauren are too isolated, you'll drive each other crazy, soon enough. You should take a Spanish class, or find some Anglo hang outs. Something! Start going out again. You need this, you shouldn't be cooped up in the house all day, it's not good for you."

She was right. Lauren and I were, frankly, kind of scared to leave the house. What if debris and pieces of buildings fell on us, and killed us? What if there was another big aftershock, what if what if what if. But finally, we decided to venture out, and we never looked back.

I've been thinking about my mom's words now, months later. When you're traveling with a friend, it's easy to cling to them and only them, and not really want to branch out. But it's not healthy! It was then that we made a conscious decision to try harder.

On St.Patrick's Day we went to the quintessential Anglo hangout, California Bar, and where we met with more young, blonde, American girls than I'd ever seen. We chatted and laughed and drank beer. Lauren and I couldn't get over it. These girls? In Chile? They all had that, ditzy valley girl way of speaking, and most of them seemed extremely annoying. That's when we realized something: we didn't want to meet the same, boring girls we could meet in the US. We wanted to befriend Chileans! And that we did.

Since then, we've made many friends, some Chilean, some not. We don't see them all the time, and yes, it's still mostly just Lauren and I. But I realized something. Making friends is not that easy. It takes a certain amount of effort and you have to leave your pride at the door. When I met one special friend, he immediately introduced me to a whole network of people, and they all greeted me with open arms, even if my Spanish wasn't up to par. It was scary, but completely worth it in the end.

-- Aneya

Aneya & Lauren: The Metro.

Aneya: So I obviously didn't take this shot, but it's great! It's at the Universidad Catholica stop, and you can see the flat screen TV, and the beautiful wall art above. Look how high that ceiling is!
Aneya: This is the colorful Bellas Artes metro stop, close to our house.
Aneya: This is too cute. This whole wall in covered in pictures of trees, drawn by kids.
Aneya: Again in Bellas Artes, super clean, and super empty!
Aneya: Lauren and I made the mistake of coming down here one day, not realizing it was an underground mall, not a metro! It's also a walkway to cross the huge Alameda street, above.
Aneya: This is at La Moneda, the financial district (the official government building is also located here).
Aneya: Again, at La Moneda, with it's beautiful wall art.

Aneya: There was an article recently in the New York Times about the brand new metro system that had just been built in New Dehli. It was clean, modern, was built on time and within budget. It was an all out success. But most importantly, it demonstrated a new economic stability and growth in a country controlled by a corrupt government with huge social inequalities. And I couldn't help but think of the impressive metro system here, in Santiago.

Lauren: The metro here is amazing. I am pretty well-versed in public transportation, and these metros are so fantastic, especially compared to the ones in LA. You walk up to a bus or train station and there is always a bus/train headed your way. They're so frequent, clean, and there's really impressive public art. It's fantastic.

Aneya: A well functioning, modern metro system really does say a lot about a city. And Santiago has one of the best underground systems I've ever seen. It's easy to use and understand, you never use coins, always your Bip! Card, which can be recharged at the ticket counter. There are policemen watching at every corner, making sure you're not jumping over the barriers. They're strict here, and the metros are always spotless.

Lauren: They're so nice, that everyone is always on them -- all the time. They're so packed, and not air conditioned, the one thing LA trains have. But they're so frequent there's almost no way you can use the "I'm late because I missed my bus/train" because they are always coming and speeding away. The design of the metro is really impressive. The lines are like the spokes of a wheel with the different lines meeting in Centro. It's a very efficient way to get around.

Aneya: Some metro stops have beautiful wall art (Like at La Moneda and Universidad Catholica, above) and they all have flat screen TVs for people to watch while they wait the 2 minutes until the next car shows up. Usually some 90s pop star is singing old school hits (Mariah Carey, Shania Twain, U2) there's also the occasinal Taylor Swift song. Right after the earthquake, the TVs had seminars on how to relax, decompress, breathe deeply, because everyone was so stressed out.

Lauren: I could not believe those TVs weren't stolen or vandalized! They are so nice. It is so funny to see what they have playing on them. Shania and U2 are big hits on the metro.

Aneya: The place is always packed, of course, and it can get hot and sweaty, when you're jammed up against the door, but it's all good. You get off soon enough. And people always give their seat up to elderly women, or moms traveling with kids. Everyone is very considerate.

Lauren: People are so nice on the metro, and you can always see people giving up their seats. It's so considerate.

Aneya: One thing I've noticed is how huge the metros are here. They were built fairly recently and are therefore extremely modern, some have 4 separate levels, complete with many escalators, elevators and stairs. The ceilings are high, and square, not low and round, like the ones in Europe. Even the metro in New York is a lot lower, and dingier.

Lauren: Daniela actually told me that they bought all their trains used from France and Japan, which explains why they are so nice and modern, and there are different types of metros. Some are blue, and some are red and white. I am so glad we've had such an efficient metro system!

Aneya: In any case, the metro is a real life saver for someone like us, sans car. We like taking the bus too, especially in the summer when it was scorching hot underground. But the metro never fails, it never takes you too far or won't let you get off, like the bus. It's reliable, and I like that.

-- Aneya & Lauren

Aneya & Lauren: Illegal Aliens Abroad.

Aneya: For the first time, Lauren and I are experiencing being a so-called "illegal aliens" in another country. It's a strange thing. As US citizens, we have no idea what it's like for immigrants trying to make it in America. Obviously we've heard stories- how hard it is to do absolutely anything- from renting an apartment to getting a cell phone, everything is a million times harder if you're a foreigner.

Lauren: I've always hated that phrase, "illegal aliens." It sounds like a criminal from another planet has invaded the country. It's such an awful phrase, used only in the most hateful contexts. For the first time Aneya and I are experiencing what it means to be undocumented in another country. It is so hard, and our minor hardship is a fraction of what undocumented people have to go through in the US.

We're not exactly here illegally (our Mendoza trip solved that), but we're foreign without work visas, and we're experiencing how hard it is to get a job, or even a savings card at the grocery store, and be treated differently.

Aneya: And the things we've had to go through here are nothing compared to what illegal immigrants have to go through in the US. Here, we pay for our apartment every month in cash. Can you imagine it? In the US they'd think a drug dealer was living in the apartment. But it's our only choice. We can't get a bank account because we don't have a route number (sort of like a social security number). It's extremely hard to get one of those if you're not a citizen. And you need it for just about everything. But somehow, we've managed just fine.

Lauren: Almost fine. It is truly a miracle we got our apartment, and that's something I am grateful for every day. We haven't been able to get jobs and at every interview we're told we'll get paid less because we are RUT-less. We don't qualify for a bank account, a grocery savings card (which never ceases to amaze me), and we're definitely treated differently.

Aneya: We give the cash to an extremely understanding landlady (also an immigrant- from Spain, as a matter of fact. Which could explain her empathy for us). We got cell phones on our second day here, we didn't need to sign a contract or do much of anything, really. We paid in cash, we got the phone, when the minutes run out, you buy more. It's as simple as that. Try going to an AT&T store in the US, it will take half an hour just to talk to someone. And when you do, you're getting a contract, whether you like it or not.

Lauren: I've always sympathized with friends who've told me how hard it was to be from another country and living in the U.S. but now I can see a fraction of what they have to go through. No diver's licenses, jobs that pay less, and getting harassed. Where Aneya and I are assumed to be rich, and people overcharge or in the very strange case in Vina, refuse to serve us, undocumented people get harassed in a different way.

Aneya: When we got our internet set up, we were supposed to have a route number, but we just used Daniela's. No big deal. Can you imagine? In the US, using someone else's social security number? You'd be put in jail! But not here. It was relatively easy.

Lauren: This entire trip has given me a new perspective on how people living away from home in the States must feel.

Aneya: Strangely, one of the hardest things to get is Lider Savings Card! Of all the things in this country, Lider is the most strict! No route number? No card. No using someone else's, either. It's like they're trying to overcompensate for everything else being so easy.

Lauren: And language. If you are ever lacking for words, people will help you communicate. There's never a This-is-Chile-and-we-speak-Castellano-here-so-get-used-to-it attitude. I really don't see that ethnocentrism at all. I can't imagine living with the hostility that some people in U.S. have toward people who don't speak English. There is no patience or understanding. It doesn't matter if it's your first day in the States, if you're just visiting. If you set your foot down in the U.S. you are expected to speak perfect English.

Aneya: Obviously another thing that's difficult is the job situation. Most jobs want you to have a working visa. In order to get one, you need to have a contract from a job. But if you don't have a job, you don't have a contract. It's a catch 22, really. There are jobs that will hire you even if you're illegal, but they pay less, of course.

Lauren: It's horrible. No job wants to hire someone without a visa, but to obtain a visa you need a job. And why would you be looking for a job if you have one that is sponsoring you? It's inane. We've been to the immigration office, which I am convinced is it's own circle of hell, and were explained this strange system. Nothing however beats the U.S. I can't imagine being stopped in the street and asked to prove my status.

Aneya: In any case, living in a foreign country as an illegal immigrant is definitely a challenge. We've had minor struggles we've had to deal with, but I can't even imagine what immigrants in America must go through every day. And I feel like people here are more understanding, whereas in the US it's all about "those damn foreigns taking our jobs!" The American attitude towards illegal immigrants really needs to change. Everyone's an immigrant! We're a nation of them. I don't know when we stopped being compassionate, and starting being racist, and bigoted and cruel. Just look at Arizona!

-- Aneya & Lauren

Lauren: Nanas.

In our first few weeks here, we went to the jumbo Jumbo, like a Super Target, and there was an entire isle devoted to smocks for nanas. Granted, we were in the wealthy area of town, but women wearing these checkered gowns can be seen everywhere.

Both maids and nannies, these women walk the dogs, clean the house, take the kids to the park, and do everything. In the summer the nanas in our area would take their lunch break together outside our apartment, each in a green gingham jumper, five seated on a bench chatting among themselves. The smocks nanas usually have to wear are really awful. I hate any job that requires people to wear humiliating uniforms, and the unflattering gingham immediately announces to people your profession, since no one would willfully wear one of those smocks without being a nana.

These jobs are often occupied by Peruvian women. A friend of mine said if you are the cleaner, or the one left with the ironing in the family your family might call you "the Peruvian".

On a recent job interview in a very nice part of town, I saw these women all over walking the dog, carrying the groceries home, pushing strollers.

Below is a clip from a Chilean film that made it to Sundance last year about nanas.

-- Lauren

Aneya & Lauren: Mexicanish?

Aneya: Finally! An authentic Mexican restaurant! Here I am, standing in front of the colorful entrance to La Mordida.
Aneya: Lauren, with our take out, and her new friend.
Aneya: This place had the most amazing wall art, I had to get a few shots of it.
Aneya: As you can see, the chairs are painted bright lime green!
Aneya: This Frida one was my favorite.
Aneya: This one is very, Dia de los Muertos. This place was a great find, Lauren!

Lauren: Almost everyone I talked to before leaving California seemed to be under the impression that because Chile and Mexico shared the same language (which isn't exactly true), they had the same culture. I often heard that I would be eating tons of beans, rice, and spicy salsa.

Aneya: Not gonna lie, I was one of the those people. I, like many Americans, was under the impression that anything South of border was just like Mexico. I had never been to South America, never experienced different Latin cultures, I had no idea what to expect.

Lauren: Don't get me wrong. I love Mexican culture, food, and people -- obviously. But I didn't want to move to a country whose culture was something I was already familiar with. Both Chilean Castillano and Mexican Spanish are terrible, but in their own ways. That's about where their tentative similarities end. I've been eating a lot of squash, avocado, and bread. The only tortillas I have are made from potato and spinach (which are amazingly tasty). There is some spicy pebre, but that's actually pretty rare.

Aneya: Upon arriving in Santiago, we both quickly discovered this place is nothing like Mexico. (I'll admit it-- I was relieved! Mexico, as you know, is going through a rough patch right now, and I really didn't want to be involved in any drug lord/kidnapping situations). All of the staples of Mexican culture- brightly painted walls, Mariachi bands, sombreros, tequila, even- were strangely absent here. Not to mention the food! Getting Mexican food here is expensive and hard to find (way more difficult than, say, Chinese food, which they have plenty of).

Lauren: Both are very Catholic countries, but where gay rights are totally nonexistent here, Mexico in the midst of an insane drug war, has legalized gay marriage.

I was kind of missing Mexican culture, especially the Spanish because that's what I speak and understand. It's mas lento, tranquilo. This Castillano stuff can honestly be exhausting.

Aneya: I got my first taste of Mexican culture in Southern California (of course). The abundance of Mexican restaurants, not to mention Mexicans themselves, was shocking to me, since I'd never really been exposed to their culture before. Now, of course, I love a good fajita, quesadilla, taco, or burrito but I don't have the same attachment to the food that Lauren has. What I miss most are tortilla chips- they are so hard to find here! That, and spicy salsa. Spicy anything, come to think of it.

Lauren: I've really started to miss Mexican cuisine in ways that I really never expected. I didn't think I had an especially strong attachment to especially Trader Joe's soy chorizo for my Saturday chilaquiles (I am a master chilaquile maker, if I do say so myself), and there are absolutely no corn tortillas here!

I was super in the mood for Mexican food, so on Cinco de Mayo I made the trek to HiperLider, in hopes of finding some good Mexican food. Still no corn tortillas, and a pitiful canned salsa (no salsa pato to be had). We celebrated Cinco de Mayo in Daniela and Stephen's new apartment with Thea the dog, listening to El Bronx. Still I missed Mexican food. Not gourmet Mexican, but cheap Mexican. Above is the place we found called La Mordida, the bite. It was actually making me a little homesick. This place was amazing and sated my cravings for Mexican food. At least for now.

Aneya: Ahh Cinco de Mayo. Or, as Americans like to call it, annual let's get drunk day! Ask any college freshman what we're celebrating on the 5th of May, they probably have no idea. Something to do with Mexico, and drinking an absurd amount of margaritas. Our Cinco de Mayo was quite tame, compared to previous years. Obviously no one observes the day down here, so Lauren went out and got supplies (even HiperLider had a pitiful amount of Mexican food, apparently) and we went over to Stephen and Daniela's to hang out.

Lauren eventually found out about a Mexican place called "La Mordida" and we went to dinner there one night. The place was colorful and fun, had great food, and they even had an all girl Mariachi band performing for us. It felt like home.

-- Aneya & Lauren

Aneya: Old People Party

The other day I was invited to the birthday party of someone in the over 40 crowd. I was curious, what would this party be like? Would it be subdued, people sitting around eating, maybe a glass of wine, some light conversation? I had no idea. But I was about to find out.

My friend who invited me informed me that "it was a boring party, just a bunch of old people" but that we would go, make an appearance, and we could leave if it was no fun. I obliged. But now I was nervous. Was I gonna be introduced to bunch of skeptical relatives? Was I going to have to make conversation....in Spanish? Oh Dios no! I was getting nervous now. We had a previous engagement, to see a friend in a band perform, so we were there until maybe 12:30 when we decided to leave. I was exhausted already, and now this? Crashing an old relative's party at 1 am? This couldn't be good....

We got to the house and the music was blaring, we could hear it from down the street! Cars lined the sidewalk, and we knocked but no one heard us it was so loud. It was a small house, filled to the brim with people, most of them over 50 and dancing their socks off! The impromptu dance party was in the living room, outside was the barbecue and in the kitchen a 10 year old was making cocktails for the crowd. I couldn't believe it. Everyone was super friendly and nice, giving me a besos on the cheek and asking about me (my friend told me "you're like their new toy!")

At one point a man came out with a carving board with cut up meat on it, asking me to take one. With what? My bare hands? I did, not knowing where to put it. There was no plates, no silverware, nothing. Just the meat in your hand. That's a Chilean bbq for you! Take the meat, pop it in your mouth, and you're done with it!

After a few piscomangos I was ready to dance, and we joined the crowd, shaking it to salsa beats, old school American classics and the occasional. reggaeton song. I was having so much fun, I couldn't get over how laid back and relaxed everyone was. They were all smoking, most people were on their 5th piscocola and yet- they were going strong, creating a samba line at one point and getting low for the "Twist and Shout".

Even the 10 year old was still in the middle of the dance floor, by the time we left, at 3 am. I later heard that the party went on until 10 the next day. Oh and it had started at 9 pm. You do the math. It was honestly the most fun I've had at a party since I've been here. And most of the people there were twice my age, maybe more! In any case, I will never again question whether Chileans know how to have a good time. At any age, these people know how to party.

Aneya & Lauren: La Cueca.

Aneya: So many people! This is the dance floor at the cueca festival, but you really can't tell who's dancing and who's standing around watching. You can spot some of the men in the ponchos and flat hats.
Aneya: For those who found the dancefloor too constricting- there's always outside! People were cueca-ing anywhere they could! These two were especially cute.
Aneya: The band was incredibly loud, but the people seemed to love every song they played.
Aneya: Daniela got her own cueca handkerchief! She's ready to dance!
Aneya: Not a very good shot, but this is an example of one of the many beautiful dresses the women had on. Check out the guy next to her in the hat!
Aneya: Oh my god, these kids were too cute! Check out how intensely he's looking at her!

Lauren: There's this dance here that is considered Chile's national dance called the cueca. It's a traditional dance from the countryside where people wave handkerchiefs in the air and circle each other, replicating the mating dance between a rooster and a hen. Everyone is taught how to cueca in grade school.

Aneya: We saw Daniela's amazing Aunt and Uncle perform the cueca on tango night. It's such a fun dance, the couple eyeing each other seductively as they circle each other, the women waving their white handkerchiefs, the men stomping their feet with pride. It's a dance with attitude, and I like that.

Lauren: We recently went to this bicentennial cueca marathon in a park far away, we had to take the train, but when we got there everyone, everyone, everyone was cueca-ing. The goal was to get to 1,000 cuecas and I thought surely they would not be able to reach that goal. But by the time we got there they had already done 820-something. The other 180 seemed pretty obtainable by that time.

Aneya: The cueca festival was crazy! So many people walking through the park, where artisinal stands had been set up, selling everything from popcorn and chocolate to jewerly, woodwork,jams, books, toys, posters and of course, the traditional white handkerchief. It was a a Sunday and lots of kids and families were making their way through the crowds, eager to see the dancers perform.

Lauren: The songs are short, only lasting about 1-2 minutes each. Usually men wear traditional flat waso hats with a poncho and cowboy boots. Women wear these really fancy dresses with some kind of ruffly something underneath, and the dance usually starts with the "exhibition" where dancers show the audience their partner. When the singing stops, you lock arms with your dance partner to show that you've "chosen" them. Below is a cueca, courtesy of YouTube.

Aneya: I love love love the outfits! I want to wear those dresses everyday! The women all looked beautiful, even the little girls were all dolled up for the occasion, their skirts enormous, their hair in elegant updos. The men were in ponchos and those funny flat hats. It was a sight to see. Afterwards we walked over to the food tent, which consisted of hunks of meat on a stick (enormous hunks, I couldn't even finish all of mine) and a terremoto- a dangerous drink of pineapple ice cream and leftover wine called pipeno. After one of those, I almost started an impromptu cueca dance myself!

-- Aneya & Lauren

Aneya & Lauren: Curly Hair in Chile.

Lauren and I, showing off our fabulous curls.

Aneya: Having naturally curly hair is both a burden and a blessing. It's a handful to work with, it gets knotty and tangly within minutes, you can't run your hands through it, and you can only brush it when it's wet. It's also something many women envy, and pay good money to obtain.

Lauren: That's the truth. It can really be a pain. If someone tries to touch or brush it, it is just painful, but curly hair can just add a lot to someone's face. I feel like my crazy, knotty hair is an extension of my personality if that makes sense. I just don't look like myself without my frizzy head of hair. Aneya and I are among the group of women who have curly hair and embrace it.

Aneya: Then there's the other women. The ones that shun their curls, and spend hours painstakingly straightening their hair every morning. This is such a common thing in the States, you'll hear many women say "Oh, I have naturally curly hair, but it looks horrible that way." Well that's kind of an insult to those who wear their curls loud and proud. But that's the States for you. Whatever's in, is what's important. Right now, for instance, Hollywood is going through the "Miley Cyrus" wave, which is so fake looking it kills me.

Lauren: I know more about straighteners than I do about any other product just because I've had so many friends who have straightened or wanted to straighten my hair. There's the ceramic-plated ones, which are said not to burn your hair as much, the "gold"-plated ones. Women in the States will spend hours (and loads of money) trying to take the kink out of their hair.

Aneya: Here in Chile, Lauren and I have already noted the lack of vanity. Yes, there are women who wear lots of makeup and do crazy things with their hair. But the majority of women go au naturale, and the same goes with their hair. I've seen more dark curly hair here than anywhere in the U.S. And it's really quite pleasing to see. You'll see long, natural waves, short, tight curls, a mixture of both. The comforting thing is that you know it's all natural, and they are embracing what God gave them. I like that.

Lauren: There something about curly hair that forms a kinship between people, at least women for sure. It was something that Aneya and I instantly bonded over when we first met (Oh, the Daily Forty-Niner). You know that the person goes through some grueling morning routine, that no man will ever be able her touch her hair without her wincing or grimacing, and that she still would rather embrace what God gave her rather than create an artificial look.

Here in Chile there are so many women with curly hair, and I love it. For me it means 1.) I will be able to go to a hairdresser that knows how to "work with" curly hair and 2.) there are a litany of curly-hair products. Both those things are so hard to come by in the U.S. If you have curly hair and go to get your hair cut, the hairdresser always wants to straighten it or cut it for a straight look because that's what's popular.

Aneya: People here are just more relaxed about everything, including their hair, it's almost a relief, really. Coming from L.A., where everyone looks perfect and put together all the time, you feel pressure to look a certain way too. There were times when I wished my hair was more "normal" or easier to maintain. But then I think about the women, especially black women, who spend thousands of dollars and countless hours getting weaves put in just to have hair like mine. And that's when I realize how lucky I am. Cause it's all natural, baby. No chemicals, no weaves, no fake, curling iron ringlets. Just what's on my head. And that's good enough for me.

Lauren: There's definitely no pressure from anyone to change how your hair is here. So many women embrace their curl it actually feels liberating.

-- Aneya & Lauren

Aneya: Seasons in the Southern Hemisphere

Let's hope our apartment never looks like this.

Obviously Lauren and I knew that, moving to Chile, we'd be in the Southern Hemisphere, and the seasons would be reversed. I've been to Australia multiple times, so I've experienced this firsthand. The craziest weather in Sydney was on Christmas day. It was so hot, we spent it at the beach! On New Year's Eve I was in a tiny little dress, walking along the Sydney Harbour with thousands of others in bikinis and shorts. It was surreal. Now, I never actually lived in Australia, and as I've come to realize living in a new country is a completely different experience that visiting.

We got to Chile at the end of January, on possibly the hottest day of the year. It was scorching, Lauren and I were sweating profusely under our layers of clothing, coming from rainy, cold L.A. That in-itself was a shock. The heat was humid, like in New York, and our hostel had no air-conditioning and was unbelievably loud. We were officially in hell. Of course, things got better. We moved into our lovely apartment, the weather (sort of) cooled down. And yet. For months, it remained so hot that taking a leisurely stroll resulted in a need for shade and a glass of water. I was kind of liking it though. Lauren and I are both Southern California girls, and we love sunshine. The nights started getting cooler and then suddenly, one day, everything changed.

I understood that we were supposed to be getting into "fall". The leaves were falling from the trees, the colors were changing. And it yet, the weather seemed to go from extremely hot to downright freezing. Suddenly, we were closing our windows, pulling out the blankets, trying desperately to get our heaters to work. The change was so drastic, and so sudden, neither of us were prepared. I'd brought with me probably 10 dresses and 4 sweaters, (what can I say? I like to be prepared for any occasion) and I was getting sick of wearing the same thing every day. So we both had to go shopping, for winter wear (a welcome activity, for me anyway).

Lauren and I are both cry babies when it comes to the cold. You'll see us now, curled up in a blanket, cup of tea and book in hand, not wanting to move an inch, savoring the warmth. And it's not even that cold! Actually, we can't tell how cold it is, because everything is in Celsius, and therefore sounds even worse than it is. "It's gonna be 9 degrees tomorrow!" Lauren informs me. "9?! What does that mean?!" (It in fact means around 48 degrees Fahrenheit, not that bad. But still cold!).

Our apartment seems to be way colder than outside, for some reason. We're both quite worried, because apparently this is nothing. It's gonna get colder. Way colder. And we are so not prepared. Lauren especially has been freaking out, saying things such as "I can't live like this!" and "I'm gonna die!" I keep telling her, "We have to adapt! It will all be fine, we'll get used to it." Here's hoping we survive the winter, and that we do indeed, get used to it. Because I get the feeling we'll go into hibernation otherwise.

Aneya & Lauren: Our 'Hood.

Lauren: So Aneya and I decided to take a walk, get some warm clothes, and take pictures of cute, interesting places that are only a few blocks away from our apartment to give people more of a sense of where it is we're living. Here's what we got.

Aneya: We really do live in one of the nicest areas of town, we're near the center, near Bellas Artes, near Lasstaria, near Cerro San Cristobal, Castilla Hidalgo (where this fountain is located and were we attended the now-infamous castle party). Although at night some areas can be sketchy (particularly around Plaza De Armas and Peru-town) but usually I feel pretty safe, even at night.

Lauren: The fountain at the foot of the hill where the castle is, around three blocks from our apartment. Not really sure who the statues are of or what they're doing. The palm trees remind me of California.
Lauren: Little cafes like this are very close by, some have themes, and are decorated with books.

Aneya: This street is super cute, with little cafes, and it's nestled right in the heart of the city. Juxtaposed with that is those crazy standing only cafes Lauren was talking about, and the hustle and bustle of downtown, mere feet away.

Lauren: The pie/cake store. These pictures are a small sample of how many pies are in this place. There's also a very cute sky blue/white mural on the wall of this place of a cafe with people eating pie, but I didn't want to take a picture of the people eating there; they already seemed a bit sketched out that I was taking a picture of the pie cafe.
Aneya: They do love their cakes here. And pies! I was frankly surprised at how good the pastries are here, as well as the bread. Still, nothing compares to the pastries of France. Mmmm delicioux!
Lauren: These fruit vendors are on almost every corner selling cheap, fresh produce. I got us a bunch of bananas once for like $.40. Although sometimes the produce varies, you can always spot these strange purple and green melons that are shaped kind of like a heart.
Aneya: Of course Lauren would take a picture of a bookstore! Unfortunately, finding books en ingles is really hard, not to mention expensive! But still, who doesn't love a cute bookstore? Lauren and I will peruse through, pretending to read while really only looking at the pictures. We've discovered we are illiterate and neither of us can understand people on the phone. Oh, Spanish, why you gotta be so hard?

-- Aneya & Lauren

Aneya & Lauren: Spirituality.

Lauren: Another difference between the U.S. and Chile: Spirituality. It is so polar opposite, it's a bit confusing. Aneya and I constantly find ourselves thinking "Should I answer that?" or "It's a bit personal." People can ask questions that in the States are beyond taboo.

Aneya: I discussed this briefly in my Easter post, but I'll say it again. It is a shock to have to answer questions about your religious beliefs five minutes after meeting someone. It's one of those subjects: politics, money, religion. These are things you just don't discuss in every day conversation with complete strangers. And yet. That doesn't seem to be the case here.

Lauren: Your relationship with a higher power (or lack there of) is totally off limits in polite conversation. Here you will frequently find people whose names you can't remember asking, "And what's your relationship with our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ like?" It's very peculiar.

Aneya: It makes me uncomfortable, quite frankly. Because I don't want to lie to people, but I don't want to go into my personal spiritual beliefs with them either. Can't we just talk about the weather?

Lauren: I'm used to religious affiliation/spirituality being deeply personal, between you and whoever you choose to share that information with, and even sharing that can be awkward. I have a litney of friends whose spirituality/personal beliefs is a complete mystery. And that's fine. I feel like that would just polarize us if we started arguing about what "real" spirituality is. It's just too personal to talk about. But here it's totally kosher, even used as an ice breaker.

Aneya: Ya, I don't talk about religion with even my closest friends. That may be because I have a diverse group of friends, from lots of different cultures and spiritual backgrounds, and I'd just be opening a can of worms if I did. Why bother? I guess because everyone here is Christian, there's no problem asking people about it, they already know the answer. But not so in the States. There's a multitude of religions and cultures and everyone takes great care not to offend anyone else. Thus, conversations about religion on the whole are usually avoided.

Lauren: I've even joked about the openness people have here about discussing religion at the most awkward times, saying "Can you believe he just asked me that? How odd." The typical response is, "Is that strange? Does that make you uncomfortable?" Umm...yes. Sharing your spirituality is something that, in the U.S., is a really big deal. Maybe with a long-term partner, your family. Not strangers.

Aneya: Ya, no joking about that stuff, Lauren! They don't like it. The fact that we've both been asked these questions, by perfect strangers, indicates how frequently, and casually, people do it. Religion is everywhere, from the Virgin Mary on the top of Cerro San Cristobal, to huge billboards (like the one pictured above, "God is bigger than your problems") I knew coming in, that Chile was a Christian nation. I just didn't know to what extent. Well, now I do.

-- Aneya & Lauren

Aneya: School kids in Santiago

So schools in Santiago are officially in session (they have been for some time, although everything was postponed a bit after the earthquake) and the school kids are out in full force! Everyone here wears uniforms, which I find so cute. I always wanted to wear a uniform, there's something so posh, so academic, so British about it. I went to a number of different private and public schools and none of them had uniforms. My brother got to wear one for a while, but it's different for guys. Girls fret for hours about what the wear, guys grab whatever's closest on the floor. I don't think it mattered to him one way or another. It would to me though!

The uniforms here come in a few different colors (mostly dark blues, green, grey and black) but they all have the same basics. Girls wear plaid skirts, white shirts (usually with the school logo on it) and these ridiculously huge wool socks, which they roll all the way up to their knees. Need I remind you it's the end of the summer here and still scorching hot in the city, I can't imagine walking around for hours in those! Guys wear slacks, and sometimes even ties, with big thick sweaters and clunky dress shoes.

I see a lot of kids around lunchtime in the park, and I don't know if they're ditching or if they're allowed to leave school for lunch. My little brothers in France used to come home every day for lunch (which was quite a hassle for my mom, driving them a total of 5 times to and from school every day) but they loved it. They even had time to play a quick game of Wii tennis before heading back to the classroom. Oh, what a life.

Anyway, the teenagers here and just like those in any country, really. The girls lay on the grass, laughing and gossiping, the boys playfully push each other around in the metro. Oh- that's another thing. There doesn't seem to be any school buses here. You constantly see kids in the metro, on the bus, walking. They seem like very independent teenagers. They obviously navigate the city just fine by themselves, and they seem to have a lot more freedom than kids in the U.S. do.

I feel like teens here are even more sexually active than those in the States (I know, I know, you don't have to remind me about MTV's "Sixteen and Pregnant") or maybe it's just that they start younger here. The other day I saw a couple going at it against the wall of the metro. When they finally pulled away from each other, I swear to god they both looked about 12. Ahh well. Young love, what are you gonna do? C'est la vie.

Aneya: Shops

Shops here in Santiago are organized in a very odd fashion. Stores that sell the same product- such a shoes, for women, all go on one street. Then tech stores go on another. So literally, you'll be walking down the street and pass 20 shoe stores. Daniela explained this to us early on, saying things such as "So this is the eyeglass area. If you need new glasses, come here!" And sure enough, optometrists, in their white overcoats sat outside their stores, chain smoking, waiting for costumers. Why wouldn't they spread the competition around? Why cluster all of them together, making it difficult for the costumer to choose? Maybe I just don't know the stores well enough, maybe one is obviously superior to another. Who knows?

Santiago has many speciality stores, which I love. I'm so used to mega stores, which sell everything from toothpaste to gardening equipment, but here, you won't find that. Sure they have big super stores ( like Jumbo, picture above) but they're few and far between. In the city, you'll see a store that just sells printer ink. That's it. The whole store just sells ink. Then you'll have a cell phone accessories store. Like those sad little vendors you'll see in the middle of the mall? Just like that, but an entire store. Music stores, amazingly still exist here, and even they are very particular- one will only sell Peruvian music, another, Mexican. The music blasts through the open doors as people browse through the CDs (yes, people still buy CDs here!)

There are lingerie stores, of course. But not just for women. Men, too, get there own stores dedicated their undergarments, and it's quite amusing to see. I'm not talking about some manly boxers, or even those tight boxer briefs in the Calvin Klein ads. No, these are tightie whities, super small, speedo style underwear. And in crazy colors! Red lace, for instance. Umm, okay? Who exactly is wearing that? I don't want to know.

There's also a plethora of magazine stands scattered throughout the city, selling candy bars, soda, chips, all kinds of snacks, with magazines and newspapers clipped everywhere, some are so stuffed you can hardly see the person behind the counter. They also sell men's magazines. Lots of them. And let me tell you, there's no black bar here. Everything is exposed. And I mean everything. And prominently too, they're not hiding in the back. They're displayed front and center, and it's quite jarring in the morning to see a huge pair of boobs in your face (well, for me anyway). More boobs than butt, which has surprised me. In any case, no one else seems to mind, and yes, people (ahem, men) sometimes will stop in their tracks and stare, but usually people just keep walking by, like it's no big deal. Cause it's not, really. Just something else to get used to.

There are big department stores, such as Ripley or Paris, but there are also nicknack stores, lamp stores, tool stores, stationary stores (reminds me of my old job!) there's everything, basically. And I love that small businesses still survive here. It's that charming, old fashioned, small town appeal that just never gets old. Keep it up, Santiago! Don't succumb to the superstore!

Aneya & Lauren: Touching.

Lauren: Something totally kosher in Chile that is a big no-no in the States is touching strangers. Everyone touches you, and that's totally OK here. The personal space bubble doesn't exist whatsoever.

Aneya: We've already talked about how affectionate people are here, with their families, their spouses, their children. It's a touchy- feely society, and that's great. But it's definitely a change from the curt handshake of the States.

Lauren: Some people I don't mind invading the space bubble, but there are some people, like drunken men on the streets, gypsies, people selling things, that I really don't want to touch me. But other people, ones your just having a casual conversation with on the bus, in the elevator, will grab your hand or forearm without a second thought to emphasize a point.

Aneya: Last night we were out to dinner and a young girl came by each table, handing out packs of gum for us to buy. The tables were already ridiculously close together, but she squeezed in between them, tapping people on the shoulder, touching their arms, anything to get our attention. I was surprised by how audacious she was, she was obviously trained by someone to do this. That's one thing, drunks trying to grab you is another.

Lauren: I wouldn't say it's better or worse, just definitely a surprise. Some people, like the very rare drunk (I wouldn't want people to think this was all the time), will touch your shoulder, but again that's very rare.

Aneya: People just like to get close, what can I say? The personal bubble which Americans hold so dearly is completely gone out the window here. It's funny because in France, the land of kisses and romance, one would think the population would be just as touchy. It's the opposite, actually. Apart from the requisite bisous, there's no other physical contact. The French simply wouldn't have it any other way.

-- Aneya & Lauren

Aneya: The Bus System

Ahh, the buses of Chile. I feel that I know them well by now. I've taken the metropolitan ones, of course. They whip through the streets of Santiago at an alarming speed, stopping whenever they feel like it, to pick up passengers or men selling ice cream or coloring books or, weirdest of all, band aids (Really? You're trying to sell a single band aid?) You must have a BIP! card to get on (you can't pay with money) which is both a good and a bad thing. The buses can be a nice alternative to the hot, stuff metros, and we use them frequently. I have to say the public transportation system in this city is efficient, affordable and downright impressive.

But what I really want to talk about are the other buses. The big, regional buses that pull up to the station every day, inching forward until their huge rearview mirrors threaten to hit awaiting passengers in the head. We've also taken quite a few of those. Some, to nearby cities like Valparaiso or Isla Negra (both about 2 hours away) we've also taken long bus rides, down to Temuco (8 hours going, 12 hours coming back). And the system is always the same. And yet it never fails to amuse me.

You buy your ticket beforehand, at the counter. It's really just a receipt, it doesn't look like an "official ticket" and yet-- it is. They tell you, vaguely, where they think the bus will be arriving "either gate 8 or 15". Grreat. So one of us will run over to gate 8, the other at 15, waiting. The bus is usually late, and people herd around the entrance, barely letting passengers off before they race on. You have assigned seats, which is nice. And then- you're off. The bus driver, usually an older man, and his assistant, a younger one, sit in the front section, which is blocked off by a door. It's clear glass, so you can see right through it, but they can talk privately.

I think it's so cute, that the driver has a buddy he can chat with, especially during those long journeys. The younger man will eventually come to the back and collect the tickets, ripping them in half and asking where our final destination is. He asks this, because people get off at a variety of odd locations. And I mean odd. You'll hear the men talking "Ya, just drop me off next to that tree other there, that's fine." "You see that little shack in the middle of nowhere? Right there's good." It's unbelievable, really. And yet. The driver obliges and drops people off wherever they want, making the journey that much longer.

And yet, Lauren and I don't really mind. By this point, we're used to it. We've got our iPods on, we're singing along, we look at the beautiful scenery around us. We watch as oncoming buses honk in recognition of us, and the driver smiles and honks back. And we think what a lovely alternative this is to Greyhounds back in the U.S.

-- Aneya

Aneya & Lauren: Presidential Inauguration ... and a possible tsunami?

One of the many marching bands in Valparaiso, awaiting the new President.
Such funny hats! They look like lampshades.
That's the ugly Congressional building, where Pinera was sworn in. See how empty it is?
Ahhh scary bomb squad guys! I asked them to pose for a picture, they weren't amused...
Lost of policemen on horses, not doing much "protecting" since I was right next to them.
Pinera! Look at the lax security around him...
Lauren and I couldn't believe how close we were...
I'm literally walking right behind his car, there's no barricade, nothing....
Later, at Mondea, the sparse crowd awaits the President's return.
And there he is! We were way closer to him hours earlier, in Valparaiso.
He gave a heartfelt speech from the balcony, very Evita of him.

Aneya: So Lauren and I had been cooped up in the apartment for the past two weeks, just lying low, adjusting to all the aftershocks and trying to get our bearing again. But after awhile, we were itching to leave the city. So on Thursday, when we heard President Pinera was being inaugurated in Valparaiso (yes, crazy amputee town) we got the first ticket out of here.

Lauren: We were finally in better spirits, and this was a historic moment we wanted to bear witness to. It was going to be in Valparaiso, but it was also the inauguration of a president, so we decided to buy two bus tickets out of town and check it out.

Aneya: Neither of us loved Valparaiso, the first time we visited, if you recall. And yet, we figured it's a historic day, so why not venture over to the town of freaks and scary looking dogs? It couldn't be that bad! Little did we know....

Lauren: That it would feel like doomsday in Region V.

Aneya: The bus ride was fine, completely normal 2 hour journey to the coastal port town. There were little groups of people lining the highways with Chile flags, and lots of police. We figured this was normal, the President, plus dignitaries from around South America, where all heading this direction. When we got to Valparaiso, the road to the terminal had been blocked off, so we were dropped off on a random street. The city was as dirty and gross as every, piles of debris still lying around, cabbage splayed everywhere, sick dogs, and scary looking people. Ahh yes, it was just as we'd left it!

Lauren: It was dirty, but the earthquakes made it dirtier. Giant piles of rubble everywhere, a few collapsed buildings. Why didn't people clean up here like they do in Santiago?

On the bus as we descended into the coastal region from the hills, there was heavy fog. It was nothing like sunny Santiago, but we figured hey, it's just a marine layer. We know all about that in LA. Whatever. Valparaiso was still depressing, but that's fine, we were there to see the president get inaugurated.

Aneya: We made our way towards the commotion and saw lines of military men with funny looking hats, plus at least 5 different marching bands. This was it! So why was nobody here? There were a couple hundred people, with Chile flags and pins, waiting for the President to leave the Congressional building. We waited with them, as the band played and marched in place. There were crazy looking bomb squad guys, and police everywhere. The atmosphere wasn't very happy, it was quiet, and a little tense. We didn't understand. This is their new President! The country voted for him, why aren't they more excited? Where were all the people?

Lauren: It was so strange. No one was cheering, hardly anyone was outside. All 300 people in attendance were eerily silent. What's wrong with these people? It's a new day, a new president. Why weren't they more excited?

Aneya: Finally, people starting leaving, the big, ugly Congressional building. It appeared they were members of his Cabinet. The left the building, then quickly got into these big square mini-vans and rode off. But where was Pinera himself? People had their radios turned up and we listened as we heard cheers erupting from the building. Then, we saw him! Looking giddy with his new sash, Pinera got in an old Ford convertible and rode down the street, waving and smiling to the small crowd.

Lauren and I ran after his car and after a moment we were literally right behind him. I couldn't believe the lack of security! I could have jumped into the back of the car with him if I wanted to! There was no barricade, just 5 men walking slowly beside the car. That's it. I walked right behind it, next to a large horse with a policeman on it. The whole thing was really unbelievable. Oh and I swear he looked right at me and smiled at one point!

Lauren: It was both a lot of security, and not enough protecting the president. Police in unnecessary riot gear, yes, but maybe 10 secret service guys. And it was the shortest post inauguration procession ever. Just walking down the stairs, he hopped in a classic Ford, drove about a block and a half then got in another car and sped away. Why? I mean, there weren't a lot of people to give a speech for, but still. A little something else would have been expected. Five bands, 10 soldiers on horses, and this ten minute procession was it? There was just something not right about all this, but hey, we got closer to the president than a lot of people.

Aneya: That was definitely the highlight of our day. Pinera eventually got out of his convertible and into a safer, covered car, then sped away. It was definitely the strangest inauguration we'd ever attended but hey- this is Chile, maybe they just do things a little differently here? Anyway, after he left, we decided to get lunch. But where? Everything was shut down, and everyone seemed to be fleeing the area. Again, we didn't know why this was happening, but we decided to get a bus to Vina del Mar, the supposedly glamorous sea side city that's 15 minutes away.

Lauren: Everything was closed. Everything. It was like a ghost town. The few people in attendance were the only people in the entire city. So since everything was closed, we thought we'd take a municipal bus to Vina, and walk around there. Hopefully it would be sunnier, and we could just relax, walk around before heading back to Santiago.

Aneya: So we get on this tiny little bus, and we get the last two seats available. We're still on a high from being so close to the President, and we feel so lucky we got to be a part of it. We're also still surprised at the lack of people, but we figure everyone's still shook up from the earthquake. We enter Vina fairly quickly, and then realize we have no idea where to get off. And the bus is getting more crowded by the minute. People jam themselves in, standing wherever they can, some hanging off the side. I'm starting to feel really claustrophobic, and this stupid baby carriage is poking me in the arm (just fold the damn thing, the baby's in your lap!)

Lauren: People were hanging out of the car, and the bus driver said nothing. He sped along, and as we got into the hills, there was this incredible traffic. We've never experienced traffic in Chile; we figured it must be from the president's visit. All the streets had to be closed off, and other streets were impacted. This bus was so crowded, it was unbelievable. Where was the entire city going at the same time?

Aneya: So we're on this bus, and now we're starting to panic, because even if we did want to leave, there's four huge guys blocking the door! And the stupid baby carriage! So we sit still, and look for signs of life. But the entire town is shut down! There's no one on the streets, and no restaurants appear to be open. What the hell is happening?

Lauren: It was eerily quite in Vina, too. There was no obvious place to get off, because the whole town was closed. It was Thursday at 2 p.m., an odd time for siestas, vacations, or any other excuse for closing up shop early. Whatever. We just wanted to see a new city, get out of Santiago for the day, relax. This crowded, tiny bus was anything but calming.

Aneya: We finally get off, at the last possible stop. Now we've driven all the way through Vina and we're on top of one of the many hills. Everyone seems to get off the higher up we go. I have no idea why. We're both hungry and tired by now, and we have no idea where we are. Oh, and we have to pee too. Things aren't lookin too good.

Lauren: I talk to a passenger who tells me that we must get off at the next stop. So we have no options, it's here that we must get off. But by now we're in a tiny pueblo, with dirt sidewalks, and about five shops. I ask someone if we can use his bathroom, but he says the whole town's water had been shut off. Strange. Why would that be? Whatever. We'll just have to wait until we get back. But, no bus, cab, colectivo, no one is offering to drive us back down the hill. We're stuck on this hill, in a tiny pueblo, and I just want to know how we're getting back home.

Aneya: We get a snack and try to think of a plan. We ask about toilets and are informed no one has any working water here. What?! Now we're really starting to panic. We quickly spot a cab and ask him to take us the the center of Vina, wherever the hell that is. And down the hill we go, Lauren questioning the driver about, well, everything. That's when we discover there's been a tsunami warning, and everyone was told to evacuate, that's why everything's closed. Oh shit.

Lauren: It was so crazy. I ask him, "So, um, why's everything closed? Where is everyone?"

"Oh, it must have been the two sizable replicas and the tsunami warning," he answers. Oh my, God. There is a tsunami warning and this guy is driving us straight toward the ocean. That's when things begin to click. People panicking, packing the bus to the brim, fleeing for high ground. The crowded streets on the hills, the fact that every store is closed, the doomsday/earthquake weather, the rubble that wasn't cleaned up. It was new rubble, piles 4-feet high and at least 3-feet across, and we're headed straight for the most unsafe place to be. Faaaantastic. It was almost laughable.

Aneya: This is really scary news. We don't know what to do. We get out of the cab and wander the ghost town of Vina. We spot a restaurant, and quickly use their bathroom. We ask if we can eat. The woman is totally bitchy and clearly stressed and sends us packing. Before we leave we see people screaming and running for their lives on TV. I check to see where they are. Valparaiso?! What? We were just there! This is getting too weird.

Lauren: That woman totally refused us service, in the meanest way possible. But we are in a "state of catastrophe." Naturally, she's a bit on edge. People are panicking, running, the streets empty except for us, a few derilicts, homeless and the dogs. Everyone else went straight to high ground. What were we thinking? Why did I suggest we go here? Of course, it was my bad idea, my fault.

Aneya: Lauren looks like she's starting to panic, and tells me we need to get the hell out of here, now. I tell her no, we need to eat first. Let's be sensible here. We find another restaurant and eat quickly, everyone is clearly on edge. Our waitress keeps looking outside, as if a giant wave is gonna come crashing by any moment. She informs us the tsunami alert went into affect at 2 am. She looks really scared, which in turn scares us. We eat quickly and leave, on the lookout for the nearest bus station.

Lauren: I needed to leave. Tsunami warnings? Two strong aftershocks?? Get me on the first bus home. Our little apartment sounded like paradise. But Aneya was insistent that we lunch first, and hey, why not? We're hungry, nervous, and we needed all the energy we could get. We still were one city away from our departure city and not sure if an exchange in Vina will work.

We find the second open restaurant a small fuente de soda, and the waitresses look on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Two people from the restaurant keep looking outside at the ocean, like watching the ocean would do anything. The other is being comforted by a cook in the kitchen, resassuringly rubbing her back with the "It's-all-going-to-be-fine" look. Oh, and the apocalypse was on the TV, playing people fleeing Valparaiso in a panic. Not exactly a calm meal. After that we're ready to get home and I ask around for the bus station to see if we might exchange our tickets for two hours earlier and from here instead of Valparaiso.

Aneya: We wander around Vina for awhile, looking for the bus station. We get there and Lauren asks if we exchange our tickets. The man calmly assures us we can, and the next thing we know we're on a bus, heading back to Santiago.

Lauren: It was the easiest thing I've ever done. "Excuse me, sir. I'd like to exchange these two tickets leaving Valparaiso at 6 p.m. for two leaving here immediately." "Sure thing." I feel like if the same thing happened in the States people would be screaming, angry, panicked, but not here. People were calmly doing business, making sure everyone could get where they needed to as soon as possible.

Aneya: Lauren and I had seriously started talking about tsunami plans. I asked how her grip was, because she'd be holding on to a pole for a while. I worried I wasn't that good of a swimmer. She said she was, but she was scared things would fall on her and knock her out. We then started planning on possible evacuation techniques, if the bus was swept away in a wave. We decided we'd climb on the seats and pop the emergency exit door open. Lauren informed me that being on a bus was one of the worst places to be during a tsunami. Great.

Lauren: That was scary. "Now, get a hold of a pole, because that's deep in the ground. How safe do you think a bus is?" "Not safe at all. It's maybe the worst place ever to be in a tsunami. We'll have to break out a window, so the pressure equalizes. Wait, there's an escape hatch. We'd have to climb out of there."

Some guy started pitching a fit because his bulkhead was taken by another person. The company apparently overbooked those seats. Who cares, you fool! Have a seat. I want to evacuate already. Now wasn't the time to argue over petty things like seating arrangements. That being said, I was so glad to get the second bulkhead seats on the way home. If it was going to be the end of the world and I need to see what was coming at us, I wanted a good view.

Aneya: But everything worked out fine, and we got back to Santiago safe and sound. Of course when we got home we had tons of missed calls from our parents. They informed us about the two huge aftershocks (we were on the bus at the time and didn't feel either of them) and the tsunami warnings and everything else we'd missed.

Lauren: We weren't aware of half of the insanity that had happened. The strength of the aftershocks were a blur, we were on the bus and hadn't felt a thing. We were at Pinera's inauguration moments after the whole city evacuated. We were both fortunate to have missed such chaos and unfortunate to be so uninformed when we needed to know what was going on.

Aneya: Later that night we walked over to Moneda, where Pinera was to give a speech. The place was all set up, with big TV screens, a red carpet, the works. And it was empty. Maybe 1,000 people, total? We were shocked. We waited and waited, then, Pinera arrived, and he shook hands, kissed babies, the works. But as soon as he got up to the balcony to speak, people starting leaving. Really? Your new president is giving his first speech and you're walking away? It was so disrespectful, we couldn't believe it! You would never leave if Obama was speaking! Never. People said everyone was scared and didn't want to leave their house. Understandable. But still, the whole thing seemed pretty odd.

Lauren: People's nerves are still on edge from earthquake No. 1, and this one just scared people who were already really sad and scared. I understand if they don't want to be outside. They want to be safe, and so did we. I was so happy to be back in our little apartment on Merced I didn't want to leave. But it was historic, so we ventured over to Moneda to watch a bit of the speech, which was fine. We got our pictures, we witnesses something few other Chileans saw first hand. Cool, now let's go back home.

Aneya: All in all, one of the craziest days we've had here.

Lauren: It was certainly something.

-- Aneya & Lauren