Week One: Check ✓

It's 19:28. Still really early by Chileno standard. Dinner's at least an hour away. I'm sitting on my bed with my window open, a breeze from the ocean traveling through my room on it's way up the hill.

I left off having not met my Chilean family yet. I lied when I said we were meeting them on Sunday. On Saturday morning we woke up at the hotel, signed our lives away on pieces of paper that said we understood all the information orientation had offered us, and packed up our rooms. From our hotel windows, we could see the group of host families growing, mingling, buzzing

My host mom, Pamela, and one of my host brothers, Sabastian (15), met me with the standard Chilean greeting -- a kiss on the right cheek -- but this particular greeting was charged with a lot more enthusiasm....and smiles. They whisked me away from the rest of the group, which I had become quite attached to by this point (not to worry, we still see each other every day), and we drove to our house in Valparaiso on Cerro Florida. Valparaiso is organized by a series of cerros (hills), and I live on one that is pretty central and hosts both the historical Casa de Pablo Neruda and an open air art museum.

Mi Casa

Across from my house

Around the corner from my house

I briefly met my other brother, Fabian (14) before he ran out the door to help a relative in the garden...
We had a big lunch including a glass of pisco sour and wine...
We met my abuela, who lives upstairs from us in our casa azul with Pamela's three brothers...
We bought cell phones with my fellow SITer and neighbor around the corner, Rachel, and her mama, Paula....
We jumped into a colectivo to practice getting to school....

And afterwards I passed out in my new bedroom while Pamela and Paula made tacos around the corner. I am still thankful for that pre-dinner nap. I wouldn't have been able to last through our dinner party -- or should I say our dinner-party-turned-dance-party that lasted until 4:30 in the morning -- without it. Oh man, our moms kept us up dancing all night!

Didn't get a very good pic; too busy dancing; Rachel's dad, Rachel, y yo

I just took a break from writing to eat dinner with my mama chilena in her room. Yes, it's taken me about  two hours to write this sucker (minus a short break to take pictures of my street). And yes, we all eat dinner together on my mama's bed...a cute little ritual that started because she doesn't like eating by herself in the dining room after her sons run off to their rooms when they're done eating.

On Sunday (after my whole family slept in until about 1:30, thank God) Rachel's mama and papa, Maurizio, took us to Reñaca, a beach town on Viña del Mar's north side. Maurizio's sister, who happens to be a yoga teacher, lives up the hill a bit in the neighborhood of my dreams. All dirt roads. Handmade houses made of completely recycled material and adobe. A dreaded man scooping horse poop with his son the yard of a dwelling that looks something that looks like tree house. Little kids running from house to house, knowing they're welcome in each one. We didn't end up running into the yogi tia, but did drink mate inside the house on the right with her fiance.

In Valparaiso, I feel like I am adjusting well. I'm accepting the fact that I sound like an idiot when I talk. And I look like an idiot when I'm standing on a busy street, awkwardly trying to wave down a colectivo while they drive towards me at 80 mph --- for example. And I'm getting very used to the head tilt and furrowed eyebrow with sympathetic eyes that say, Ay, Gringa. But it's ok. The other morning I was overcome with satisfaction when I walked down my hill to catch a ride to school. The sky was grey and the hill was empty except for equally grey pigeons flapping around and a couple of stray dogs surveying the street. I passed an abandoned lot overgrown with flowers. Whereas every other surface in the city is painted with graffiti, these eroding walls were left mostly unmarked, as if tagging an abandoned building is too obvious. Or as if the cascading purple flowers had already marked the territory. The morning seemed a little eery, but like I said, I only felt completely satisfied. Maybe it was the abundant colors of every building that counteract the grey. Or maybe I subconsciously knew that in a couple hours the clouds would burn off and I'd be lying on the beach in Viña. Oh, mi vida.

*Colectiva: a taxi, but cheaper because multiple people can jump in and it has a fairly fixed route.