Failed Social Interactions: How to Get Noticed in South America

If you really want to draw attention to yourself, I highly recommend making a purchase of peanut butter, ranch dressing, Oreos, Pringles, and a bottle of wine with an American debit card at a Chilean supermarket while wearing a t-shirt from an American university. The manager will come out to verify your ID, they'll have to call for a price check on "un gringo" and your card will not work for the first four tries. It's also best to do this in a regular line and not the express line, so you get the added benefit of death stares a half-dozen working moms trying to pick up a week's worth of food for their families.

The sad thing, though, is that I really don't care that much about Oreos, ranch dressing, and peanut butter. Of course if you get between me and my Pringles bad things are liable to happen to you. This is an inherent risk, and don't tell me that you weren't warned. I guess I just wanted a little taste of home, and since it's really hard to ship a Five Guys burger or an Ajax veggie plate to South America, I guess that this has to do.

That's kind of been the attitude I've been trying to adopt down here too. They say that travel has three distinct stages: first, you're excited to be in the country; everything is new and exciting. Secondly you begin to get frustrated with the language and complain a lot. The third and final stage is adapting--you begin to see the weird cultural hassles as part of living in the country. I feel like I'm somewhere between the second and third stages; I feel like things are stupid but also kind of cool. It could be anything from a professor cancelling two weeks of class and not telling anyone, to my complete frustration at learning Chilean slang (for instance the word "juevon" can be either a term of endearment between friends or a serious insult). It's tricky, and frustrating but also kind of cool--like learning how to play chess or something.

And in other, less introspective news, I did manage to catch a little Ole Miss football after spending Saturday on the beach. Let me just say that a bad David Kellum connection does not make a 2-OT loss to a D-II school go down easier. I had to explain my yelling at my computer in Chilean soccer terms to my obviously concerned host mother, and after that she figured it out. I said this in my last post, and I'll say it again: frustration is a universal language.

Plus, a picture:

At the beach in Viña. Me, Mauricio, Nico, Nico, and Elli