?Cachai?

?Cachai? Yes, that's probably the most commonly used phrase I've heard in Chile since my arrival.

You know, the hispanohablantes always make fun of us Americans for making up our own Spanish words and speaking Spanglish, but I think they're just as much at fault. ?Cachai? Meaning: "Do you get it?." It comes from the verb cachar, meaning "to catch on." catch -> cachar -> ?cachai?

Now do you cachai?

I think my favorite bit of Spanglish here is gallo. It's the chilean substitue for tipo which means "guy." And how do you pronounce gallo? "Guy-o." Sounds pretty Spanglish to me.

I've been in Chile for a week, as of 7:30 AM today. So far, it's been like a dream. Not that things haven't been difficult or strange, but if you're open enough to just let things happen, it's amazing what comes out of it.

I live in a small casa with a madre, padre, and hermana. They are wonderful! Mi madre, Ita, runs the house and she is there for everything I need. Upon arriving, she said I was her muñequita, meaning "little doll" and said I look like a Barbie. I'm assuming she got that from the blond hair because other than that I think I look about as much like a Barbie as I do like a Ken. Ita is hilarious, constantly telling stories of past gringos and their crazy lifestyles. I am also lucky enough to be following in the footsteps of Jeremy, el angelito de dios, who himself said that I would be a nice rest for my padres after his terremoto. So as long as I'm not knocking the house down, I think we'll all get along.

Mi padre plays the guitar beautifully and is in a group that performs música foclorica chilena. He has the sweetest, smoothest voice and I'm hoping he'll teach me some songs. He's started teaching me more guitar, starting with the Chilean names for all the chords (do-re-mi-fa-sol-la-si, instead of c-d-e-f-g-a-b). If we can get past the problem of my tiny hands, I might actually learn quite a bit. Besides that, he is the most cariñoso man who really loves his kids (myself included) and grandkids.

Sole, or Ule, mi hermana, is a doctor at the same school where I take classes and she is wonderful. Plays guitar and sings Alanis Morisette like nobody's business, although I'm not sure she understands all the lyrics... She is 28 and will keep living en casa until she gets married or decides she wants to live sola. And it's nice to have a doctor in the house, especially two nights ago when I almost passed out after falling down the stairs. Yeah, I know. Stupid. But that's what happens when it's soo cold you have to wear three pairs of socks on wood floors...

?Qué más?

The jovenes here are very interesting. They see a gringa and think singing "Happy Birthday" in English will get you to notice them. They call the catcalls pirópos, which actually means compliments. I'm not sure that getting whistled and kissed at in the calle is much of a compliment, but there's a cultural difference I guess. I've taken to putting my hood up, especially at night, when I walk down the street because my blonde hair is pretty much the equivalent of walking around with a neon sign flashing "gringa."

Beyond that, the strangest thing is all the young couples making out in public. Certain parts of society are pretty conservative here, like your pololo (boyfriend) generally stays in the main parts of the house with everyone else and such touching is not appropriate. So...I guess since the pololos have no alone time in the house, they take it out to the calle.

Bueno...that's enough for one day. Time to go eat. Ita will probably give me an entire plate of patatas fritas and then ask me if I didn't like them cause I only ate half...