Since eating is probably my favorite activity in the world, I feel like a journal entry dedicated to la comida chilena is absolutely mandatory.

To be honest, I was scared to death of chilean food when I was reading my Lonely Planet guidebook pre-embarkment. It ranted of the horrible Nescafé (which really is absolutely vile, but I´ve learned to stomach it a little bit as long as it has heaps of sugar) and heavy, greasy meals.

Now, Chilean food is not the stereotypical spicy, four-alarm cuisine of our Central American counterparts. It´s mild, a bit flavorless and nothing too special, but I´ve learned it has a beautiful simplicity to it. Every meal has basic staples... meat, starch, vegetable, bread. No surprises, ever.

But there are a few things that anyone that visits Chile must try:
1. Onces. Direct translation: elevenses, and I can´t even tell you why. En serio, if you do nothing else in this country eat onces, onces and more onces. Onces is kind of a late afternoon tea and bread affair. In the household it typically consists of pancito (these little breads served at pretty much every meal) that have palta (avocado), mantequilla (butter) or manjar (dulce de-mostamazingthingever- leche). Dining out, onces typically consist of a té or café cortado with milk, cookies, a tiny cup of mineral water, a sandwich or empanada and a postre (my favorite being panqueques with manjar).
2. Palta. The avocado here is like butter.
3. Manjar. Think caramel. It´s a bit too sweet for my liking, but you will have no regrets trying it. I´m bringing three big jars back to the states.
4. Wine. Chile is known for it´s impressive range of whites and reds. Caramenere is pretty swanky here, and I like the sauvigon blancs as well. My first morning in Chile my program took our group wine tasting at Casablanca Viñamar at 9:30 in the morning. That was probably the best "bienvenido a Chile" we could have asked for. For those who enjoy mulled wine or sangria, navegado is a must. It is red wine heated with citrus juices, cinnamon and other spices, very typical for Chilean winters.
5. Kunstmann. If you´re more of a beer drinker, this German brew from southern Chile is to die for. I like to think of it as a beer that even women can enjoy. It´s sweet and golden and fantastic. If you fancy a heftier cerveza, try Negra.
6. Pan, pan, pan. If I could take a suitcase full of bread home, I would do it. It is absolutely fantastic and a staple of the Chilean diet.
7. Sopaipillas. My friend´s host mother told her sopaipillas are what Chileans eat when it rains, which turns out to be true. They are a rich, buttery frybread that taste absolutely divine when warm.
8. Empanadas. I´m not a big fan, but this snack can be found in any minimarket for something around 40-50 cents in US prices. You can find one filled with anything... shrimp, apple, ham and cheese, scallops...
9. Mayonesa. I hate mayonnaise, but this is different and Chileans are completely addicted to it. My teacher at the language school explained that historically mayonesa used to be a luxury food, and now that the common person has access to it everyone eats it. It can´t even be compared to that jiggly Best Foods imitation we have at home. Chilean mayonesa is mild, creamy and amazing.
10. Completos. Think of a hot dog drowning in mayonesa, palta and tomato. It´s the equivalent of Pita Pit (or Munchy´z hot dogs for those who hail from WSU) for college students in the U.S.

*NOTE: There is only one word used to describe food here: rico. If something is really good, you can tag a "súper" on the beginning of that.

I live with a typical, hard-working young Chilean couple in their thirties. They are unmarried and have two little girls, Mey and Lisue-Anne, aged 3 and 7 respectively. Coming into this experience, I never expected to have a host family of this sort (I imagined an older, well-traveled couple who happened to like gringos or a middle-aged family with children my age). In retrospect, I probably have the most unique living situation of all of my gringo friends in Chile, mostly because my family is just so typical. The mother, Ambar, works eight hours a day and attends night classes, so I hardly see her. The father, Carlos, works long hours as well and surfs on the weekend, so I see him at night. Then there is the nana who cooks, cleans, serves as a caretaker for the children and generally does everything the couple couldn´t possibly have time for.

We also have a kitten, Josi, who is loved and adored as much as a child (except by me because I am allergic to her).

The apartment is small but sufficient and located on a hill that overlooks all of Viña del Mar, with a breathtaking view of the ocean from the living room. The whole host experience is a little odd since we rarely eat together or see each other, but I typically eat almuerzo (lunch) and onces (evening tea with bread) with the daughters and nana, with family almuerzos reserved for the weekend.

Our apartment complex is a large, fairly new development with a huge range of occupants, from older couples to young families. Though neighbors rarely seem to be good friends, it is not uncommon to have visitors stop by once, twice, or five times a week to borrow a cup of sugar, half a stick of butter or two cups of milk for something.

Living here has made me realize there are quite a few luxuries I´ve taken forgranted in the states. First and foremost, there is no central heating here, so even though the winter isn´t far too different from Seattle weather, it is cold every minute of the day because there is no place to find refuge. Actually, it is often deceptively colder inside the house than outside. I sleep with seven heavy blankets and walk around the apartment wrapped in at least one, if not two.

To obtain hot water to shower or wash dishes there is this machine in the kitchen that I need to light a match while pressing some other button simultaneously, then slide a lever to the right and twist some knob to open the gas. After five weeks I still can´t do this, so every time I want to shower I have to ask someone else in the house to turn it on.

Since utilities are so expensive for families here, every time we wash our clothes we hang them on a line to dry even though they own a dryer (it is used to store plastic bags, don´t ask me why. My friend´s host family has a dishwasher that they use to store tupperware containers). This often means I have to plan ahead close to five or six days in advance. In the dead of the Chilean winter with rain spells and lots of humidity, it is virtually impossible for clothes to dry. If I do a load of laundry Monday my clothes probably won´t be fit to wear until Thursday or Friday.

For all of the money they must save freezing (I´ve resorted to drinking lots of tea and wearing five layers to stay warm), I will never understand why there is no recycling system here. Everything we buy is in glass or plastic bottles or other sorts of recyclable containers, and it seems so logical to have a nice heaping blue bin that a recycling man can come buy and pick up every week. Yet there is none, so I can´t help but feel this big wave of guilt every time I go throw away a perfectly recyclable container. I don´t think I will ever get used to it.

To all who have passed by and clicked the link to my blog for the past month and a bit, I extend my sincerest apologies for the lack of content. nevertheless, the blog server is up and running now and I will attempt to recap the past month and a half of my life in chile.

I feel it might be best to begin with my reasons for visiting this skinny, oddly-shaped country. That tends to be the one of the most common questions I am asked by chilenos, second only to "de donde eres?" (in which I have to explain I am not, in fact, from Washington, D.C. but rather from the other superior coast, an explanation which is quickly followed by, "ayyyypo. Kurt Cobain!"

I am currently interning as a reporter at El Mercurio de Valparaíso, and will continue to do so through the end of July. My responsiblities are the same as those at The Daily Evergreen at Washington State University, where I work at home. I receive an assignment, hit the streets, write it up, and it gets published. The key difference is that I came to this country speaking virtually no castellano, and after three weeks of language school I´m not sure I was quite prepared. But it is fantastic experience, and through it I´ve met president Michelle Bachelet, other government and municipal officials in the region, and had a great excuse to talk to citizens.

As for the blog, I am hoping to offer some insight to anyone who has even the slightest interest in the region. There´s a lot to love about this region, but also a lot that required serious adjustment and cultural acceptance on my part. I came to this country with the mission to make every day an adventure, and I certainly received more than I bargained for.

Chao--