I cried. I’ll admit it. It was on a
Saturday night just after we had a pipe in our bathroom burst and water begin
to flood our apartment. Even after the issue was resolved (I ran down to the
front desk hollering about “mucho agua!”), the stress of that event was the
breaking point. That night, I came to the realization that I don’t fit entirely
in to this Chilean culture. Sometimes it feels like the world we’re living in
now has its own secret code—some of the streets aren't marked, maps are hard to
come by, and few stores post their hours, not to mention that Chileans have
their own brand of slang and manner of speaking Spanish, characterized by
dropping s’s and mumbling. Everyone just knows
things here, without being told. And I don’t. Even if I manage to fly under the
gringa-radar with my dark hair and eyes (many Chileans also have light skin),
within a minute of interacting with a local I will inevitably give myself away
as someone who “ain’t from around these parts,” as we say in the south of my
homeland.
But I also learned something else that night: I don’t fit in
seamlessly here, and that’s okay. Even
though there are many things about the U.S. that I’m not a fan of, growing up there
will always be a part of my identity. Chileans are very rooted in pride for
their nation, and it’s okay for me to be proud of my home as well. There are
things I wish Chile would learn from the U.S., just as there are ideas and
attitudes I hope to bring back with me from Chile. I always say two cultures are better than one,
but that includes my home culture as well. Learning to acknowledge my identity
as a U.S. citizen as I remain open to learning from Chilean culture has brought
me so much peace. It is one of the most important lessons I have learned so far
this semester.
The next morning, Rachel C., Anna, and I visited a Catholic
church for the first time that morning. Scattered on the pews were copies of
the mass for that morning so we could follow along during prayers and Scripture
readings. During one section of prayers, they prayed for people on vacation,
people who couldn't go on vacation for some reason, and that workers with
summer jobs (such as construction) will have their rights respected (they take
vacation/summertime very seriously). I thought the prayers were a very
thoughtful gesture. Then they prayed the final prayer of the section. A rough
translation is:
“For the Christians from other places that come here during
the summer. That they would find in us the joy of sharing a common faith, and
an example of brotherhood that transcends any type of difference. Hear us,
Father.”
The love of Christ crosses all boundaries. Culture,
religious tradition, language, secret Chilean codes, all of it.
Yeah, I got choked up again. I’m just a crybaby, what can I
say?
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