One of my problems is that I dabble in too many things. For example, for a while, I thought that I was going to take up photography, but I do not think I have a lot of talent. And so, I have this great camera that will probably never realize its full artistic potential due to the ineptitude of its user. Many things I do are like this, the given example being particularly illustrative of how expensive such dabblings can be. For what its worth, I think I have some talent in music, writing music as well as performing.

If I had to boil everything down, take away all the possible hobbies I could have, and essentialize what I could do with my spare time, I would probably say writing and music. The problem is that, and this could probably be a big whiny excuse, I never have time to do so. Whenever I get somewhere and can see myself going somewhere, I have to do something that takes me away from music for 3 weeks or even 6 months. In that time, you lose everything that you have gained, and when I come back, I have to start from the very beginning. I do not know how many times I have gone over the same goddamn material.

My experience in musical groups are limited to jazz or concert bands, a little stint in a basement band with Charlie Hall, much talk but no progress in a band with Pat Kattner, and my own rather simple diddlings on the guitar (note: Also, I was part of this band called Chocolate Rice. We recorded a particularly cheesy adult contemporary song called "How Was Your Day?" We performed it at an open mic night. Bad memories.). I have always wished that I could be part of a group, but since I lack contacts/friends, that dream never really worked out. Of course, I never formed my own group for the same reason. No "band" friends and so forth. It is hard and sometimes a little boring to do everything by yourself.

So I guess I have always been sitting on the side of the pool, watching those with talent (and without) splash in the water. I dont have enough confidence to dedicate myself completely to music (since I dont want to be starving) and so I have always been frustrated that nothing can result from so much daydreaming. I feel especially frustrated when listening to a great song or watching a cool music video. Ho hum.

Labels: complaints, music, musings, wishes

Dilenquency here in Chile after the dictatorship has skyrocketed. The reasons are probably quite numerous, all having to do with the dictatorship itself: 1) During the dictatorship, there was a curfew initically between 9 pm to 7 am. Gradually, the window of time shrunk until the curfew only lasted between 1 am to 6 am. Given that there were armed military units patrolling the neighborhoods, night time robbery was a risky option at best or a great way to get your ass shot at worst. 2) After Pinochet took power, the iron hand of neoliberal, free-market reform descended upon Chile, forcing painful economic changes. In fact, the unemployment rate was about 13 or 14 percent when Pinochet left the presidency. To the Concertación's credit, today the unemployment rate is about 6 or 7% - ironically half of what the military dictatorship could do. Or is it? The transition to democracy in Chile did not challenge the fundamental economic structure enforced before, essentially continuing the process of economic neoliberalism. This strikes me as a little strange, especially when a supposedly Socialist president is in power. Contradiction, it seems, is the rule in Latin America. 3) Given the harsh economic structure and the consequent opening of the society after the dictatorship, obviously dilenquency is on the rise.

This, of course, leads to people taking precaution. Nobody wants their car stolen in the middle of the night right outside of their house. The solution? Gates.


There are a ton of different types of gates. In a capitalistic economy, all gates are not created equal, the rich ones obviously getting all of the attention. Some are probably electrified, and others are probably laced with some sort of horrible Mapuche curse. Anyway, everyday as I walk through my neighborhood (or any part of Santiago, really), I dream about jumping over these gates, kicking the huge ass german shepard barking his head off at me on the other side, perhaps marking my territory gloriously with urine, and jumping back, stealing an empanada in the process. In all cases, I would obviously be a master of the parkourian art of movement, and thus, such 6-foot gates with razor sharp spikes would pose no threat to me.

Give me a break. I need to have something to do while walking, given that I lack any sort of isolating portable music device.

Labels: chile, musings, wishes

I decided to take a dance class in the cueca, the nacional dance of Chile. I thought it would be an interesting thing to learn, especially because el Día de la Independencia is coming up and supposedly everyone dances the cueca. Furthermore, my family is going to have a little party in which everyone is going to dance the cueca. So I went.

Only two guys showed up. Me and another guy. I suppose that I should have thought of this before I went, especially since a deep primordial part of my being was adamantly against my attendance. I felt like I was doing something extremely feminine, despite the fact that there are obviously male parts and female parts. Perhaps it just was the high level of estrogen in the room.

You could look at it in a positive way and say that such an arrangement is wonderful because there is a sexual disparity. But I don't.

At least I can kind of dance the cueca. hmm.

Labels: chile, musings

I might decide to stay here for another semester. At the rate I am going, there is no way for me to be fluent by the end of 3 more months. Perhaps with six more?

This of course puts a huge dent in a lot of things. I have already sort of decided that I am not going to work on a thesis this semester. It is just not worth the time, especially since I am here. I also would like to go back to spend some time with my college friends before they all leave for whatever they will be doing in life. Also, it would be fun to work in the upcoming election, especially for the winning campaign (which I hope will not be Republican). Finaally, extending school for another semester is really stupid, especially when the only thing I have left is one class and my scholarship runs out. Maybe I just won't finish that class or that major.

But then again, when can I have the chance or the time to study like this? Probably if I have the opportunity in the future, I will go to Korea instead of Latin Ameria (depending on the circumstances I guess). Having another language under your belt certainly is a great tool for the future, whatever it might bring.

Labels: chile, fears, musings, wishes

You know what grinds my gears? Seeing the changes in a relationship of an acquaintence from high school on facebook. Whenever I click on "friends", his relationship status is different with some sort of emo quote as his status such as "Sad person X is digging deep just to throw it all away." Of course the profile photo vacillates between a picture of him with a particular girl and a picture of him alone.

But, dude, this has been going on for like a year or so. Come on. There is a difference between updating your relationship status and having it be a stock ticker for a company on Wall Street. Or maybe I should just stop visiting facebook forever. That is probably a better solution.

Labels: complaints

I am in the process of starting volunteer work here in Chile, bur really I am quite ambivalent about the whole prospect of it all. The reasons are various, some are more valid than others…

One of the reasons why I don’t want to do it simply is because I don’t want to. I have always been like that. For example, in New Orleans, there are thousands of opportunities to get involved in the city and help rebuild, but I never did and probably never will.* Why am I like this? It is probably personality on one level and society on another. Personality: I am kind of selfish. Society: America encourages self-interested, atomized action politically and economically. Result: I am one lazy guy never doing what I think out to be done.

Two. I came to Chile in part to get a different outlook on life. I can say so far that I have been getting a pretty good perspective on things, sometimes painfully realizing how Americanized my perspective is on a day to day basis, it basically manifests itself in a souring towards some of the core aspects of American culture (more on this later). I thought and still think that working with those who don’t have anything (the pobres) could help me figure out what I want to understand. What is Chile like? Over two million people in Chile, which has a population of about 16 million are “poor”, living off of less than two dollars a day. That is about 1,200 pesos a day. To get some sense about the relative purchasing power of this figure, the basic metro fare costs about 380 pesos for three rides in a period of one hour. So not that much. This is in a country that the western world has held up proudly as one of the success stories of the neoliberal project. Ironic

Three. Godammit. I am sick of seeing Americans in places where there are poor people in other countries. First of all, American fiscal impediments like the Washington Consensus** have contributed to the extreme economic/social pain these people are facing. The Washington Consensus is a series of agreements made by the international fiscal giants of the world about the policies that countries need to put in place in order to recieve international loans. Two main ideas are in play here: liberalize the economy and balance of payment. When you liberalize your economy, the government has to get out and allow that invisible hand work its magic. This means that immediately there is a drop in the amount of money available in the economy, which means recession. Since the government cannot spend more than it collects in taxes (balance of payments) it has to sit on its haunches and watch its people get really pissed off.*** Thus, it kills me to see Americans with big, dumb smiles trying to help people who are affected by the foreign policy of America. Why don’t you vote instead? Second of all, it is ironic that American people want to help all the poor people everywhere else, save their own country. What is the difference between a poor person here or there? Why do you need to travel thousands of miles to give a man a blanket when there is a homeless guy on your way to work? Why do you want to study poverty in another country when there is a lot of poverty in your own? Sure it isn’t the same type of poverty, but poverty none the less. Perhaps it is an American fear to take a hard look at oneself and the way our country conducts itself. It is also ironic that I am complaining about this when all of this applies to me.

Four. I guess I won’t do anything else with my time besides fiddling with this stupid blog and twiddling my fingers. I don’t have a lot of friends, so its not like volunteer work is taking time out of my social life.

Five. I can’t help but think about the fact that all of this is egocentric. Do I want to just “experience something new” or genuinely help other people? I think the answer is pretty clear, unfortunately. But does it make it a bad thing? Besides, can you ever do anything that is genuinely altruistic?

It all comes down to a bunch of questions, me feeling crummy about being American, and me wondering what I should do.

*On a side note, that is part of the reason why I scoff at the administration’s claims that the students in each new freshman class express some huge desire to assist those in need. Probably they are more interested in getting into the best school that they an, and therefore will say any piece of altruistic bullshit to convince our admissions department that they are the type f people that the school is “looking” for.
**Nixon, Regean, and the Man are also some well-loved Americans.
***Milton Friedman is an idiot. Francis Fukuyama is an idiot. It annoys me how their ideas can affect millions of lives, and after they all fail, they can calmly publish a book or give an interview saying “Oh wait, I didn’t mean that.” or “Oh damn, forgot that variable.” And nothing happens.

Labels: chile, complaints, fears, musings

I don't really know anything about programming. I once wanted to be a programmer, but that was before I realized how difficult it was. I don't even know the basic functions of HTML (the library nor the code, har har). So the slight modifications on this blog make me extremely proud:

1. Comments are up top now. You can also see the date as well.
2. Made the font bigger!
3. Got rid of the lame flower thingys.
4. Put links down at the bottom. More to come. The format, of course, sucks. The limits of my HTML knowledge.
5. A time stamp.
6. The Voice of Jessica Alba heckles you now when you comment. So, please do.

I still need to figure out the stuff about lables. But I have been wasting too much time here, neglecting my school work. I am starting to like these new digs.

An update in brief:

1. My birthday passed

2. My host family threw me a nice birthday party in which all of the family was invited.

3. My mother did not call me. At first I thought she was trying to reach me because I had a number of missed calls throughout the day. But after she didn’t call when I was obviously available like around nine at night and after my brother told me that a couple of his friends were trying to reach me, I realized that she wasn’t trying to call.

How did I justify this…this inconceivable lapse in memory? Obviously, first I didn’t, or rather I couldn’t, believe that my mother forgot. She carried me in her stomach for nine months, so at least you would think that her body would ache with pain and anger at least in memory on that day. I assumed that I might receive a letter or a care package from my family in the mail. No letter. Then I thought that maybe, in a moment of panic, they were coming down here to visit me as a surprise. Quickly, I dismissed this as impossible. At my lowest point, I thought that something awful must have happened: my grandfather passed away, my dad went into surgery, or perhaps my brother ran into another guard rail at thirty miles per hour.

I called.

“Oh my gosh,” she said, “you know what? Your birthday passed.”

Yes, I know it passed. But, at least, I am glad for the confirmation of my birthday. For a while, I was beginning to doubt if my memory had been inconceivably altered without my knowledge. When I hung up, I felt unwanted.*

4. My host dad made fun of me a lot. It turns out later that day, my mom calls my house here and asks for me (in Spanish, impressively). I wasn’t there, so my host mother told my mom to call back at 8:30 pm. Before 8:30 he told me that my mom forgot my birthday and just remembered (without knowing that I had to remind her that it was my birthday). After 8:30, when my mom still hadn’t called, he laughed louder and told me that she forgot me again! It was pretty funny, although somewhat anxiety-producing.

5. My host siblings threw me a surprise party over the weekend.**

6. I went to McDonald’s in celebration of America and all that is American. It is the first time I have gone to an American fast food restaurant since I don’t know when (probably sometime during the spring semester last year). Of course, I am not counting Starbucks in Mexico, but I went there for the free internet. It was horrible, worse than in America, which ironically says a lot. How can people formulate a good opinion of the United States when they only image of America is a cold hamburger with soggy french fries?

7. I have been horribly sick. I have lost my voice, so for a couple of days I was croaking like a frog. My host dad made fun of me a lot for this as well.

8. I have changed the template of this blog because I think trendy internet things are cool, despite myself. I was thinking about moving to Word Press as well, but I won’t because I don’t want to start over again. That and I have been with Blogger for awhile now. Ain’t no carpetbaggin’ northerner.

9. I read a blog of a conservative blogger who talked about the pity party over New Orleans. How can conservatives like her whine about how people have forgotten September 11^th and then in the next post complain about how New Orleanians are sucking the blood out of American taxes? By her logic, burning in a corporate building is worse than drowning in a house? Is she saying that one person’s suffering is more pitiable because there is a global-political connotation to their catastrophe?

10. My Spanish still sucks.

*Of course, birthdays are moments of materialistic hedonism in United States, where people like to attract attention to themselves and indulge in the attention. I don’t like this at all, but I would like at least my mother to wish me a happy birthday (I don’t care so much about my siblings based on the pure fact that I forget their birthdays as well).

** Normally I don’t and still don’t like that type of celebration, especially when I don’t know half of the people there. When I am in the States, usually I am alone on my birthday due to the fact that I don’t want to tell people that it is my birthday nor do I want to be the reason why people get together to spend money. I had gotten used to sitting in a college dorm room, eating cheez-its, and trying to figure out that stupid chord progression of “Sovay” by Andrew Bird. Here there was loud reggaton music, females (yeah I know, big change), lots of booze, and the like.

Labels: chile, complaints, musings