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Groceries I never buy

17 May 2008 at 7:25 pm · Filed under food, jobs, purchases, travel ·Tagged , ,

Today I bought groceries, as I usually do on Saturday mornings. Since we don’t have a car anymore, I walk to the store about 15-20 minutes away, do my shopping, and take a taxi back to the apartment with groceries for a week. This time Mark reminded me to buy snacks. Something about it getting colder outside makes us snack more. But anyway…

I was thinking today, as I passed the masses of people waiting in lines within the grocery store, of all the things that Chileans buy that I never buy. Like sliced cheese from a deli window. I just buy a package of sliced cheese, but Chileans buy slices from the deli almost every day for that evening’s meal. Take a number!

Also, ham. I never buy lunch meat EVER. Don’t get me started on all the chemicals that they put into your “meat” so that they can make it that shape. But Chileans stand in another line at another deli window almost every day so they will have ham (the generic word here for lunch meat of any origin) for their evening meal. Or breakfast the next day. Just let me say, “yuck.”

Then there’s the fresh bread weighing line. I do occasionally buy one kind of fresh bread rolls that don’t have shortening. But usually I buy it fresh on the day I want to eat it from the bakery on the corner by my apartment, not at the grocery store on a weekly trip. So I can skip that line too.

The only line I have to wait in (before I head to the check out, of course) is the veggie and fruit weighing line. Four guys (I’m not being sexist, they are all men!) sit there at their special table near the produce weighing fruit and veggies on their scales that print out stickers with the price. I guess that saves the checkout clerks time, but it seems to me like one more ineffeciency of Chile. And more time spent in line.

Finally I get to the checkout, and pay for the food I DO usually buy. Then I head outside and wait again for the taxi. Mark wonders why it takes so long to go to the grocery store, but I’m not worried about it. July first will be our first day back living in the States, and I can be more efficient again.

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Where’s my camera when I need it?

21 April 2008 at 8:57 pm · Filed under cooking, food, jobs, laws, my kids, purchases, travel

Maybe I need a camera phone after all. I needed it on Sunday, and since I didn’t have one, I will try to paint a word picture for you.

We drove up to the butcher’s store in Doug and Carey’s Hyundai van. It’s a big store on a corner of a major street. Don’t think of these outdoor markets with slabs of meat hanging around in the open air. This is a meat store with coolers and freezers and men who use plastic gloves to cut normal slabs of meat and weigh it on digital scales.

Mark and Carey went in to buy steak to grill while Doug and I sat in the van out front with the kids. Doug and Carey have four kids, ages 14 to 7, and our three were there, too. Megan, the baby, was asleep on my lap. (Okay, so it is still Chile. We didn’t have any carseats that day.)

Johnny, age 11-ish, and Doug start talking about the guy who has a little stand out front of the butcher’s shop. I hadn’t really noticed him before that. He has a square table and a big umbrella for shade. He also has a display board of maybe 12 folk music cds that he’s selling, and a karaoke machine. He’s playing loud music and occasionally breaking in with an advertisement for the butcher’s shop. “Today only, get your steak at only $2.50 a pound.” Or something like that using pesos and kilos instead. It goes really well with his folk music, let me tell you.

Doug tells Johnny, “I’ll give you three dollars if you go over there and ask the guy to sing ‘O Canada’ on his karaoke machine.” Johnny’s thinking about it. I say, “I’ll give you three dollars if you get him to turn the thing off.” I didn’t think he would, but I should have known. It was Johnny. He’s fearless.

After a couple of minutes of thinking it over, he jumps out of the passenger side door and walks over to the 60-something-year-old man. We can’t hear what he says, but the music keeps playing and Johnny comes back grinning.

“What did he say?” “He said I would have to pay him to turn it off.” “Did you offer him part of your three dollar reward?” “No, why should I share my reward with him?” “Well, what reason did you give him to turn it off?” “None.” Silly Johnny.

Mark and Carey came back and we drove away. But it didn’t occur to me until later that it’s not normal to have a karaoke guy advertising the butcher under an umbrella on the street. Funny.

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All wrapped up

21 April 2008 at 8:37 pm · Filed under holidays, jobs, my kids, purchases

Gift-giving in Chile is a time-honored tradition. And free gift wrap at almost every store is part of the tradition.

On Saturday we took the whole family for a walk to the nearby mall in search of a birthday gift for a friend of the girls’ from church. He turned four on Sunday, and this mall has the best toy store around. So after we picked out a set of five Hot Wheels cars for $9, I stood in line to pay while Mark took the girls to get some lunch in the food court.

I took the opportunity to buy a gift for Jenna’s upcoming third birthday while they weren’t looking. Then I got the two gifts wrapped after standing in a separate line/mob. No one really knew who had arrived first, and there were several people waiting around for one of the two gift-wrapper ladies to finish. But it was eventually my turn, and I sailed through the process, having already become accustomed to the routine.

“Boy or girl?” “One of each.” “Okay. Is this paper alright?” Dinosaurs and princesses. “Fine.” After a few moments of watching the process, I am internally laughing.

My mother spent a good amount of time teaching me some basic life skills: bed-making and gift-wrapping are similar. It’s all in the corners. But apparently, even though this lady is a professional gift-wrapper, she hasn’t figured that out yet.

In Chile, the most common way to wrap a gift is to put it inside a ready-to-fill envelope made of wrapping paper. They fold the paper in half and tape it together, usually along the back of the envelope. Then they fold and tape up the bottom to form a kind of thin sack. Once you show up with the gift/filler, they shove it in, whether or not the bag they’ve made is the right size, fold and tape up the top, and add a bow. They use these bows where you pull the ribbons and they sort of scrunch themselves up into a bow-like shape. Every gift uses at least a meter of scotch tape, I would guess.

Well, the gifts I bought stuck out of the lady’s pre-made sacks, so she had to actually use a flat sheet of wrapping paper. I laughed because, even though she had to actually wrap the box, she didn’t tape down the top flaps. She taped them to one another standing up, so it would LOOK like a sack! Here’s the photo:

 

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What would you do?

16 April 2008 at 8:08 pm · Filed under jobs, laws, travel

I had been waiting there for 45 minutes. Yes, at a bus stop. Where else?

And I had all three kids with me. Megan was strapped on my front. Jenna was asleep in the stroller. Rachel was bouncing all over the place, still under the influence of her coloring-laced antibiotic from last week.

It took 25 minutes till the first bus came. And went. Without stopping.

Ten minutes later, another bus passed us as I frantically waved it down. To no avail.

The third guy stopped after I stepped out into the street (He was a good way back, I promise, I’m not suicidal) and waved him down. 

I lifted the stroller into the wide entry and scanned my bus card. I started to roll my child down to the wide-open handicapped and stand-room-only space. I said “Thank you for stopping for me,” to the driver. I was going to be a duck, and just let the water roll off my back. It wasn’t going to affect my day that the other two drivers didn’t stop. Then the driver spoke up.

“They didn’t stop for you because you have a stroller,” he said. “Strollers are prohibited.”

WHAAAT??? “So how would you suggest that I bring my three children on the bus without a stroller?” I asked, trying REALLY hard to not get mad at the guy. After all, HE had stopped for me, right?

“I suggest you leave them home with the maid next time.”

Typical.

“Don’t you think that if I could afford to have a full-time maid to watch my kids, I would just buy a car?” I said. 

“Whatever,” the driver said. “I can’t talk about this now. I have to drive.”

Yeah, but at the next stop his buddy got on, and it didn’t seem to bother him to talk then.

I figure some bus drivers still let me on with my stroller, and I can’t figure out any other way to carry a baby and a napping preschooler on a bus. Pretty soon it will start getting winter and rainy and cold, and then maybe the dollar will be stronger and I can take a taxi.

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The gardener

29 November 2007 at 11:47 am · Filed under homes, jobs

The official residence of the ambassador of New Zealand to Chile is next door to our apartment building. It is a large home with a large front yard and two gated entrances. It has very well-kept gardens, and we often take a peek through the gate as we pass by.

 Yesterday Rachel saw a sprinkler running inside the gate. “Mommy, why do they have that sprinkler? Don’t they have a gardener?” she asked me.

“Well, Rachel,” I said, “the sprinkler saves time so that someone doesn’t have to stand there with a hose and water all that grass and all those flowers and plants that they have.” Secretly I was thinking that this was a rare opportunity to teach Rachel about one of my favorite North American values: efficiency.

“Does the gardener just play in the water then?”

I can hardly hold back the laughter. “Um, no. I think the gardener can do other things, then.”

About this time we passed the second gate to the house. As we peeked in, we saw the gardener. He was standing there with a hose, watering the other half of the lawn.

“Like hold the hose somewhere else,” I said. My chance to pass on my value of efficiency was thwarted once again.

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Bus Adventures

29 November 2007 at 11:37 am · Filed under food, jobs, purchases, travel, weather

As we travel around Santiago by bus these days, we are often surprised at the things that we experience. Here are a few from just this week:

  • The man riding beside us with his young daughter sleeping on his lap bought Rachel a 4-ounce Coke from the vendor who got on the bus with his soft-sided cooler full of about 30 little bottles to sell to the passengers for about 50 cents each. I think the man felt guilty for drinking his little Coke in front of Rachel, so he bought her one, too.
  • Many singers, usually with guitars, get on the bus to sing and ask for donations, but this week dreadlocks and drums were a unique bus ride show.
  • Vendors of all kinds get on and describe their product in loud voices. This week we had the opportunity to buy ink pens, sewing needles, file folders, coloring books to teach us English words (!), and socks.
  • Beggars also get on the bus. They have a pattern to their stories. First they get your attention and say that they hate to have to do this, but there is no other way for them to feed their family. Then they tell you their story, without looking anyone in the eye. Then they say God bless you all and have a safe trip, and walk through the bus with their hand out for coins.
  • The favorite of all bus riders at this hot time of the year is the ice cream man. He has either a foam cooler or a masking-tape-reinforced cardboard box full of popsicles: blackberry, pineapple, orange dreamsicle, plain orange, chocolate cream. Only 20 cents each!

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The Van

24 November 2007 at 7:04 pm · Filed under jobs, purchases, travel

Those of you who read Mark’s blog (itismark.wordpress.com) will already be aware of the recent demise of our van, may it rest in peace. This van has plagued us from the start with problem after problem, and I for one am glad that it is finally dead.

But what exactly do you do with a kaput car in Chile? I mean, in the States I would sell it to the junk yard, or give it to charity to be fixed for someone who needs it, or at least recycle the scrap metal somewhere. But here in Santiago, where people leave things outside by the curb to just disappear when they are done with them, how do you get rid of something as big as a van?

Well, we didn’t just leave it at the curb, in case you were wondering. In fact, we sold it to the first person who came to see it on the first day it was for sale! (Maybe we should have asked for more as far as the price, but to me it is priceless just having it sold.)

I called the buyer directly. See, last year when we were still in the old house, this guy came riding a bike down our street handing out his business card to anyone and everyone. He makes his living buying cars like ours that have some good parts (ours had a decent exterior and interior) and some bad parts (ours needs a new engine). Then he puts together new vehicles and sells them. We’ll call him the puzzlemaker.

So, as is my habit, I had glue-sticked his business card into my spiral notebook of cards. This is how I keep track of all the people who I meet or get recommended. I have no idea why I thought I might need to know the puzzlemaker someday, but his card was there, so I called him.

“Yes, how much do you want for it? I’ll come this morning.”

One trip to the notary later, and it’s gone. He towed it away with a nylon rope and his car. I wondered if his method of towing would work (slippery rope, small car, big van), but you know, it’s not my problem anymore. What a relief!

 

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The crazy taxi driver

1 September 2007 at 9:04 pm · Filed under jobs, purchases, travel

I went to the bus station to pick up Millie, who visited from Ohio the past two weeks. She was coming back on a day bus from Concepción, six hours away. Millie had two suitcases and a backpack, which we got into the Metro and out at the end of the subway line near my apartment. We decided to take a taxi from there.

 At the subway exit is a taxi station. A group of taxi drivers have organized a system of waiting at the exit for passengers, each taking their turn.

We went to the lead taxi, who was supposed to take the next fare. I had to knock on his window before he would even acknowledge my presence. That was the first bad sign.

The second bad sign was that, after loading our bags and taking off, he did not turn on the meter. I leaned across the seat and pointed at the meter. He said, “It’s only three blocks. I’ll take you for free.” Big red flag. But by this time we were halfway to my destination. I just shrugged, “Okay,” I said.

I showed him where to pull in, and he got out to unlock the trunk, but made me lift the heavy bag. Well, it’s free, so I don’t complain. I hand him 300 pesos as a tip. Then it gets weirder.

He tells me I owe him 650 pesos. I remind him that he didn’t turn on the meter, and that he said it was free. He tells me it would be more than 300 pesos to take the bus. I tell him that 300 pesos is more than he would get if it were truly free, and I turn to leave, thinking him an ungrateful person. Millie, not understanding what has just happened, follows me.

As we walk away, and the taxi is waiting at the red light, the taxi driver stands up in the street and starts yelling at us that we are cheapskates, unethical, rude, uneducated, and of course, spoiled foreigners.

Knowing that it was his fault he didn’t turn on the meter when I asked in the first place, and also that he was stuck in traffic and wouldn’t leave his taxi unattended, we just walked away. “Another Chile moment for my blog,” I told Millie.

I hope she didn’t leave Chile with a bad taste in her mouth. It would be great to have her back again sometime.

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Chileans do not give used things to charity like A…

13 July 2007 at 1:19 am · Filed under jobs, purchases

Chileans do not give used things to charity like Americans do. Goodwill and the DAV would quickly go under here.

Things like used clothes are given to friends, family members, or church members. Things like broken vacuum cleaners and electric kettles are fixed or given to people who might be able to sell them at a street fair.

Even my egg cartons and glass spaghetti sauce jars have to be saved for a friend who gives them to someone she knows. That person sells eggs and jelly at farmers’ markets. Recycle, Reduce, Reuse could really be a description of a cultural value here.

So when I have clothes that I consider to be well-used, and I would normally put them in the box for Goodwill, what do I do here? I put them out at the curb on top of the trash containers on trash day so that the cartoneros can come get them.

Technically, a cartonero is someone who collects cardboard from the trash. I’m not sure what they do with the cardboard boxes, but they drive these tricycles/delivery vehicles. They have one wheel in the back and a seat with pedals like a bike, but in the front there is a three-foot-square platform with three-foot sides and a wheel on each side. In the “basket” (for lack of a better term) this person collects their boxes, any useful trash, and anything people leave out (whether or not they intended to). They might also carry a passenger in the basket, especially a 10-year-old-ish child who can jump out and help look for good stuff.

So when it is trash day and the apartment building trash cans are rolled out to the curb, we can count on it all being gone through by at least two or three cartoneros before the garbage truck comes by. Tonight I left a bag of very used children’s clothes and a 7-year-old pair of Mark’s pants that finally gave up the ghost. Tomorrow someone in Santiago will be getting them ready to sell at one of the street markets.

It is true: one man’s junk is another man’s treasure.

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Protests are so common here in Chile, I had to rea…

1 May 2007 at 4:57 pm · Filed under crime, holidays, jobs

Protests are so common here in Chile, I had to read back through my entire blog to see if I had written about them before. I couldn’t find an entry about them, so this being Labor Day in Chile (and in many other parts of the world), I think it is high time that something be said about this phenomenon.

First, Labor Day in the States is something like a picnic day, coming right at the end of summer as it does. But when you think of Labor Day in Chile, you have to think “labor union”. Today seems to be set aside as the official protest-against-your-employer day in the whole country. It is always on May first, and so this year it lands on a Tuesday.

Protesting in Chile is just what you do. If you want more pay, you strike. If you want better benefits, you have a picket line. If you want to work less hours for the same pay, you have a march. The key is to disrupt the normal course of events (the traffic, the tranquility, and definitely the workday) in order to embarrass your employer (or the government, depending on your reason for the protest) into complying with your wishes.

There are lots of ways that this plays out. A calm, peaceful protest usually involves a march of the interested party somewhere downtown. They will carry signs on posterboard, blow whistles, chant their sayings, and be accompanied by police who ensure their safety as they block vehicle traffic and disrupt normal sidewalk traffic. In the end, they usually take the rest of the day off and sometimes receive what they requested.

Other protests, usually when students get a little too excited about their cause of the week, can involve rock-throwing (usually at the police), barracading the gates of their schools with chairs and desks, tearing down outdoor signs (both street signs and advertizing), looting stores, vandalism of bus stops, burning tires in the street, and occasionally a Molitov coctail or two. In such cases, the police presence protects the people and businesses around the protesters by wearing riot gear, arresting those involved (just overnight without pressing charges, unless they are a leader of the movement), breaking up the crowd with tear gas, and sometimes using the water cannon.

So far today is a quiet, cloudy day. Maybe the protests will all be peaceful today. But I will definitely keep an eye out for a police water cannon driving through town, and drive the opposite way. Happy May Day!

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