This is the best photo I took today. It depicts a man and the results of his labor. No more comments needed.
The photo was taken right next to La Moneda, in Santiago. Enjoy.

Presently writing from Santiago, I’m glad I read most of Inés del alma mía, (Isabel Allende), before I landed in Chile. I have yet to finish the last 20 pages, but as it happens with all books I like, I just don’t want to reach the last page, forcing myself to slow down and enjoy it a bit more. This novel has been like an aperitif to Chilean history, providing a little taste of some of the main characters who founded Santiago de la Nueva Extremadura, as the capital of Chile was initially called. It will be interesting to compare Isabel Allende’s historical realism with the Chilean history lectures we will be listening at our first classes at the university.

In a very practical manner, as I get acquainted with Santiago in these first few days I am glad when I hear people talk about the Mapocho and know it’s a river. I am pleased to look at a poster in a building wall comparing two different time period men, know who they were (Salvador Allende and Lautaro), and understand the meaning of the comparison. Today, when someone at the Plaza de Armas asked me about the location of Valdivia’s statue, I knew where it was and could even tell him the horse’s name! (Sultán, though I wonder if that part is accurate!) or know why Valdivia chose Santiago’s location. Today during a city tour, our guide mentioned a statue of Alonso de Ercilla y Zúñiga and epic poem La Araucana about los araucanos (mapuche). It felt good to know who Ercilla Zúñiga was, and also know why I should call people mapuche and not araucanos.

My point in posting this is that sometimes, the best way to get acquainted with something new, is through reading a great book. The word so far among the people I asked is that Isable Allende struck a good balance between history and creativity. Let’s see what our instructor has to say.

It's been too long since I have posted here, have been spending much of my time with the end of the year tasks at our library. Library work at a public school is pretty busy these days, so my full attention has been focused on finishing our inventory.

Two more steps have been completed on my road to Chile: finished reading Confieso que he vivido, and the tickets are ready to be used. The second reading of Confieso left me as sad as the first time, probably more. Watching the film Machuca, didn't lift the mood, though getting the tickets on my hand certainly made things better. To change the mood even more, I am going back in time with my reading and picking up a little thin book titled Un día en la vida de Quidora, Joven Araucana, by Jacqueline Bacells and Ana María Güiraldes. More comments about all this later, as I have to log off due to tornado warnings in my area!

Una araña regalona

I don't know if serendipity really does exist, but books about Chile or Chileans just happen to turn up in my life. Especially lately. This doesn't happen with books about Ecuador, Laos, or Tanzania, it just happens with Chile. Fate must be moonlighting on my personal case.

As I was shelving books the other day, I came across this thin book I had ordered and never actually read. This happened a few minutes before I was breaking for lunch, so I decided to eat and read a few pages and save the rest for after work. Four stories later, I was glued and had to force myself to stop and finish the book as soon as I had a break. What a charming little book!

As a starter, Poli Délano narrates a few memories from his childhood as it connects with Pablo Neruda. But the book doesn't really do that, it goes beyond a narrative of encounters with Neruda. We get to see the poet and his wife through the eyes of a child, wrapped up with a good dose of tenderness, wonder, and sheer fun. This is the kind of book, simple as it is, that makes me love my first language and my culture. Somehow, try as I might, I have not been able to feel the same way reading a book in English.

The thin little book has become a great little interlude in my re-visiting of Confieso que he vivido (Neruda's memoirs). As I go back to the memoirs and read about his university years, I can't wait to read about Delia, his wife, or Hormiguita, as she was fondly called by some. Somehow I have forgotten everything I read about her on my first reading of the memoirs.

By the way, Policarpo y el tío Pablo has a funny story (among other hilarious stories) titled Una araña regalona. Here the author recalls what happened when a walking stick was placed in a box that contained Renata, a tarantula owned by Neruda's wife. Although I knew what the outcome of the match would be, I was thrilled to find out that Neruda's wife (Delia) had a pet tarantula! Later today as I went back to Confieso que he vivido, I read that he too kept a tarantula when he was a child. For a tarantula lover, this is great news, and to celebrate, I have changed my newest tarantula's name from Shirley to Renata, in honor of the poet and his wife's spider.

Un pololo con una polera pálida ... what?

As the date to leave for Chile gets closer, I am beginning to think of essentials. To be able to communicate effectively is pretty necessary, and although I have no problem communicating in Spanish, I am very well aware that words have different meanings in different countries. I dread being part of a conversation and suddenly saying something that is fine with me, but is considered a faux pas in Chilean Spanish. Take the word "bicho", which generally translates to "bug" in most Spanish-speaking countries, but not in Puerto Rico!

I have been warned not to use the word "concha" too casually, rather call shells "caracoles" instead. Luckily, as I was beginning to get worried about how to order Concha y Toro wine, a friend explained that Concha y Toro is a last name - so now I know won't be getting in trouble with that one.

A few years ago, a Chilean friend gave me this little book that I have been reading here and there. Hopefully it will help me choose the right words in Spanish. It's thin and fun to read & find how many words are really not that different from what I know & use.

For the curious ... in Chile a "pololo" is a boyfriend and a "polera" is a t-shirt. Go ask a Puertorican what a "bicho" is or a Chilean what a concha stands for as I'm not going to translate those here!

Books can be dangerous. The best ones can change your life!

I have spent most of today, a rainy and cold Mothers' Day in Milwaukee, reading Lonely Planet's Guide to Chile & Easter Island while listening to Inti-illimani's Leyenda. I figured a cold, rainy day like this is what awaits me in Chile, so I might as well get in the mood. It was interesting to notice how my reading paths intersect: Lonely Planet's Chile & Easter Island mentions Ché's Motorcycle Diaries, a book I happened to have read before I traveled to Oaxaca (no connection that I can tell), and later had a chance to watch as a movie (and embarassed myself crying & sobbing) when it was shown in a summer course at Yale. It all connects to Confieso que he vivido, which in turn connects to Las venas abiertas de América Latina, a book I found to be an awakening when I attended college as a kid.

No wonder I am a librarian: books have shaped my life and have geared me toward other life experiences. Oh, the power of books! As I look at these books connecting my life to Chile, I go back to this quote: "Books can be dangerous. The best ones should be labeled "This could change your life." by Helen Exley.

Oh, if I could only have guessed what Confieso que he vivido, Las venas abiertas de América Latina, and Diarios de motocicleta were going to bring into my life! And yet I still don't know what is to come!!!! And suddenly I find a book I had purchased quite about a year ago, before I knew I would visit Chile and haven't yet read: Inés del alma mía.
Am I beginning to look at my life through the books I have read or am I beginning to look at the way the books I have read connect to my life?
I guess I cannot help it. I am getting old.

Here is link to beautiful music and a piece of the Motorcycle Diaries movie. Interesting the first place I find has images of the main characters riding through San Pedro de Atacama: the first venture out of Santiago that we will take.

Confieso que he vivido

I have looked through my shelves and found one of my favorite books. All yellowed, brittle and with a good layer of dust, my paperback copy of Neruda's memoirs was patiently waiting my return. Certainly by book doesn't look like the photo I have included here, mine is the third edition of the book, yet I have added it here to add some visuals to my yes, very boring blog.
I bought the book on a whim, one day while at the university, read it and marked it all over.
I'm trusting Neruda to paint a picture of Chile for me, to come in to me as I visit his thin country, and open my soul to receive it.