Archive for travel

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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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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Strap it on

10 March 2008 at 7:05 pm · Filed under my kids, people, school, travel

I have an exercise for you. Take a not-so-small-anymore baby and strap her on the front of you in one of those baby carriers. (I prefer Baby Bjorn myself, since it’s lasted through some beyond-normal use and three kids.) Then strap an almost-three-year-old into an umbrella stroller. (Again, I have to recommend a Chicco Caddy, for the same reasons as above.) Strap on the backpack full of diapers and extra preschooler clothes, wipes, snacks, etc. And strap on a smile. Don’t forget that last piece, because you are going to need it. You are going to pick up a five-year-old from school.

It takes 10 minutes to get out the door of the apartment, down the elevator from the eleventh floor, and out the front gate. If you share the elevator with another resident of the building, you will get your first chance to exercise that smile. “Oh, what a cutie,” they say. That’s good, they are still focused on the baby.

By the time you get down the street to the bus stop, another 10 minutes have passed, and another 20 people walking on the sidewalk. “Que valiente,” they whisper to each other. Now they are talking about you. “How brave she is!”

The bus could take anywhere between two and twenty minutes to arrive. More opportunities to exercise that smile come with the wait. “Can I give her this candy? What’s wrong with her?” Now they are watching the two-year-old. Keep smiling!

You pull the kid and yourself and the stroller up onto the bus. Good news: now they think you have to be crazy, so they give you a seat, even if the place is full. But keep smiling because they are watching you now. If you keep smiling, the bus people will smile back, and you can complete some good-vibe circuit that will insure that you arrive with your smile still in place when the bus reaches your stop in 20 minutes. If you stop smiling, well…don’t stop.

Once you have made it to the door of the bus with your baby strapped on the front, your kid trailing from one arm, and your stroller gripped tightly in the other, push the buzzer and get off. Then assemble the stroller without bending over (remember the baby is still on you) and strap the kid back in place (if she doesn’t kick you in the meantime). You are ready for the next leg of your journey.

Cross the street, avoiding the potholes and the “dog doodles” in the sidewalk, hopefully not against the light, and walk six blocks to the school. You made it! Halfway that is, because you are about to gain another little dynamo and her backpack, and try it all again on the way home.

Roundtrip = 2 hours. Keep smiling!

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Cooking from scratch…as in NOTHING

13 January 2008 at 6:46 pm · Filed under food, school, students, travel

This morning Mark and all the other staff left for Chanco, a small rural town along the beach of southern Chile where Campus Crusade is holding the annual Student Conference. It is to last six days, and is to be held at an internado – a public boarding school of sorts – that is open to us because it is summer here in Chile.

Mark is in charge of the food for the conference. That’s for 45 people, including the staff and students, every meal for six days. That also means that he was in charge of planning what they would eat, deciding how much they needed to buy, buying it, cooking it, cleaning up after it, and reimbursing all the costs later. A big job!

This evening he called me after arriving in Chanco to let me know that there is nothing at all in the kitchen there. No plates, no cups, no silverware, no pots, no pans, no serving spoons. NO REFRIGERATOR, NO STOVE! They do have a sink.

He was prepared for most of this, because rumors had begun to arrive about the primitive nature of the place before he left. But he had pretty much counted on there being a hotplate at least.

I hope the students like sandwiches.

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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 Rotunda

14 October 2007 at 8:09 pm · Filed under travel

It seems that in every direction from our apartment, no matter which way we have to drive, there is a traffic circle, also known as a rotunda. Supposedly, these traffic circles are meant to speed up the flow at high-traffic intersections.

At one traffic circle near our apartment, six streets meet at a large circle. Each street has one, two, or three lanes that meet the circle. Needless to say, merging is an important driving skill.

Around the circle itself, there are also three lanes. The inside lane is supposedly the fast lane. The outside lane, one would assume, is for the cars that are about to exit the circle.

The important words are one would assume. I should know by now not to assume anything here is the same as the way it would be if this situation were to arise in the US.

In actuality, I have yet to figure out what mysterious force keeps all these cars from crashing into one another every few minutes.

Cars will enter the circle into either the outside or middle lanes, sometimes right in front of an oncoming car. It seems that I get cut off like this by entering cars more often if I am traveling in the outside lane of the circle, so I try not to do that unless I am about to exit.

Cars will exit the circle onto one of the connecting streets from ANY lane of the circle. It does not matter if I am traveling in the outside lane and about to exit, I have to pay close attention to the other cars traveling in the circle to make sure I am not cut off unexpectedly by a car that is exiting from the middle, or even the far inside, lane.

All this while trying not to hit any of the pedestrians who cross the streets in the crosswalks just at the exits.

Seriously, if someone figures this system out, please let me know, because I am dangerously lost!

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Cabin Fever

25 September 2007 at 6:07 pm · Filed under purchases, travel

This weekend is our national staff women’s retreat. Carey and I have been planning this for some time, and I am really looking forward to it. (No, I won’t give away the surprise about what we are going to do there!) But the hardest part, as usual, has been the accomodations.

First, we looked online for cabins that we could use. The key to cabins is that we can cook our own food, and thus reduce the cost of the conference for our staff. At first, we found lots of cabins online between Santiago and Concepción, the two cities our staff women live in. But as we began to call these so-called cabins, we noticed that many of them are not equipped with kitchens or kitchenettes of any kind! I still can’t figure out how that can be a cabin, but we narrowed down the list.

Then we began to call about the prices. Commonly, even if they have a website, Chilean hotels and cabins will not list their prices. You have to call to find out how much it costs to stay there. Why have a website? So we narrowed it down to a few that we could afford.

Finally, we tried to get reservations. I sent two separate places reservation requests through their own websites. No response. Again, I ask you, why have a website? So I called them. Please use our website, one said. I did, I said. Try again, they said. I didn’t.

In the end, there is only one set of cabins that has kitchenettes, affordable prices, and will actually talk to us. Never mind that their website only worked for about three days, and now we can’t see it anymore. They sent me an email last week to confirm, and I responded in the affirmative, so we are all ready to go. Right?

Since I have had experience with this happening before, I also called to confirm that reservation a few days ago. “Oh yes, of course. Señora Amanda. We have your reservation right here. Just give us a call right before you arrive so we can unlock the front gates.” Okay, we are in business.

Today Coté called them to get directions to the cabins from the bus station. “A reservation for HOW MANY people? Six, right?” No, it is for ten people! “I don’t know if we have that much availability…” Coté called me right away.

I called them back, “Yes, Señora. We have your reservation. One cabin for five and two cabins for two people each.” That makes nine, I explain. They told me the big cabin would hold six before. (I have the email as proof!) “Hmm, well, I will see what I can do…”

I guess we will see what he can do, too….

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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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