Un Día Largo

Well, today is the first day I've felt truly frustrated being here in Chile.

#1: Cédula de Identidad
So, this is what every Chilean has to identify them. Great. Isn't that what a passport is for? Also, I'm not Chilean. But still, I have to get one. You know...this all started back in the states when they told me I had to go to Chicago to get my visa. "Can't they just mail it?" "No, they need to see you in person. And they need your fingerprints." (Which we also had to send in for the visa application in the first place). So in Chicago they give me two papers along with my visa: "Take these with you when you enter the country." Upon arriving, they take the two (identical) papers, stamp them, and keep them. They then check your visa, stamp your passport, and let you in: "Take your passport and this receipt to the police station." Three days later, you have to register with the local police. What do they need? A photocopy of each page of your passport (picture, stamp, visa). What do you get? Another paper: "Take this to the central registry to get your cédula." Ok, really? What good is a cédula going to do me for 6 months? So, this morning, I went to the registry. This was the worst, cause you have to take a number. I had #79 and they were on 42. My madre and I went and got a cup of coffee down the street. 20 minutes later, they're on #48. Great. And what do they need this time? Photocopies of your passport pages (visa, picture, stamp), a photocopy of your police registry PLUS the actual police registry paper. And fingerprints. Chile has 4 sets of my fingerprints floating around somewhere between Santiago and Chicago. The best part is, I left the registry with...another paper! I come back on the 23rd to get my cédula.

2. Es muy tarde para hacer planes de vacaciones...
It's winter. We have 10 days to travel. There's nowhere to go. Peru: too much money, too little time. Argentina: la porcina. Bolivia: the embassy in Santiago doesn't have any visas available. I didn't know you could run out of Visas. We'd have to take a bus about 20 hours north to the nearest available city to solicitar a visa. And, it's not a city. It's a pueblito. So, I spent my afternoon going from place to place asking about tickets and tours. There is ONE student travel agency in Santiago. And the only thing they can help with is flights. And only outside of Chile. Well that's great since we can't leave the country. Every single place I went said: "You have picked the worst time to travel. You should have planned this months ago." Uh, thanks, I would have had I not found out the dates of my vacation days a week ago. LANChile is about the only place that goes anywhere in Chile. They have awesome promotions - except none of them actually exist. We're thinking of doing one trip to Northern Chile, which should work out well, and one down south to Pucón, which is supposed to be much nicer in the summer, but our options are limited. Of course, I'm looking into buses to Pucón and they don't run on Saturdays or Sundays. As we start classes on Monday, that could make things a little difficult. And, of course, the only time they have flights is in the summer. Why didn't anyone tell us this before we decided to do fall semester in Chile??

#3: Futbol y pirópos
Somehow, wearing team colors and hanging out with a bunch of drunk friends seems to make Chilean boys abnormally obnoxious. Today's the national final for Chilean soccer and the streets are going crazy. I was on the metro going home from school at 3pm, and a group of about 5 boys decked out in jerseys decided to whistle and catcall at me until the next stop. Of course, this group grew to about 20 by the time I got to my stop. They added a little singing to mix up the routine. I really wanted to beat some people over the head, but of course I'm a small white girl. So I just looked out the window. Not to mention some random stranger saw me come out of my house today, then proceded to ask me if I lived there and if I could do him a favor. I told him I had to go, but he could ring the bell. He could have been completely well-intentioned, but after the day I had I wasn't taking any chances. Now I'm sitting in my room contemplating all the malintentioned reasons he could have had for asking if this was really my house. And those thoughts make me never want to look out the window, much less leave the safety of my front gate.

On the positive side...
1. I managed to completely understand the hispanohablante in the Bolivia office -over the phone!- who told me there were no visas available.
2. I took a new bus route all by myself.
3. I had very sofisticated conversations in Spanish with all of the unhelpful travel agents and the woman at the registry.

Every cloud has a silver lining. While my clouds are pouring down unwanted pirópos and rain throughout Chile, I can now wish them away in a different language.