Sicky Picky

The first time I met my host brother Panchi he asked me what types of food I liked. I told him I wasn't picky, however I hadn't the slightest clue how to say that in spanish. I told him I liked a lot of different foods and I would eat almost anything someone gave me. He got a the biggest kick out of the word picky. Since I moved in he's called me picky, just as a nickname. I came down with Tonsillitis on Sunday and have been in my house, mostly room, since. So now, he calls me sicky picky. At first he told me I just had a terrible "caña" which means hang over in chilenismo. Haha. Little did he know.... ("I've written books on 'little did he know'....I've taught classes on 'little did he know'...anybody know my movie reference?) Anyway, I'm on day 4 of doing NOTHING and sitting in my bedroom. Day 1 and 2 were fine in the sense that I slept because I was so sick. But yesterday and today I am better and am bored out of my mind. There literally is only so much spanish grammar I can do. I think I've been on facebook for at least 72 hours. My activity level is pathetically off the roof. Its in the clouds.

So here I am. Sick. And Picky. I want us to focus on picky. I have had so much time to think in the past couple days and have realized I am picky. I mean so are you. We all have our right to be picky. My problem is my pickiness wont allow me to make serious decisions. And when I do, my decisions involve me, and only me. For me it is a defense mechanism. I have been through years of dependency both unhealthy and healthy, and I find comfort in dependency on myself. I find it okay to let myself down, but I find it unacceptable for others to let me down. Good thing God is around when I realize I can't depend on myself, and He can't let me down. I have this same view about others as well. I have made some serious mistakes and don't want to let others down, but if they let themselves down, thats their fault, their mistake, their problem. I'm not going to be the one to let you down, but I'm also not going to be the one to let you in. You're not going to be the one I let in. The one I always let in, I always let down. And anyone else who wants to be let in, is either already let down, or I fear they'll let me down like I've let the one down. maybe a little convoluted with my thoughts but thats it. Sorry if I let you down by not letting you in. But know, I might throw you down if I let you in. And I know it doesn't feel good. I've seen the marks. I've had a lot of people ask me what the deal is, but when I'm put on the spot I have many other reasons. These are them. Eat it up. I'm sorry. Its reality. And maybe it doesn't come down to picky, maybe it comes down to something deeper.

Isa, an outstanding young woman in my group here in Chile, once said that it takes half as much time apart to get over someone you were in love with/together with. I had never heard that, but apparently its commonly used. I think it might be right. I pray that its right. Because I need to fix this whole picky/boarded up old lady I have become. I need to realize reality. Right now. Not what could have been, or what could be. I'm stuck in the in between of those two which isn't actually the right now. Its something else, something weird. I think a year here will do it for me. I don't need my mind made up, I just need it moved on.

Nightmares

I've never been one to have many nightmares, let alone any. But for some reason, in the past week I've had 4. Ridiculous. Some are short and confusing, others are long and drawn out and feel very real. So last night I had 2:

The more recent one was me back at home in the states. I was fighting with my brothers (not a big surprise) but Mack was furious at me because he had loaned me $1,000 for going abroad and that it had overdrawn his account. I was so confused, "why didn't you just look at your account before you gave me the money? I could have gone without it." But it made me so scared to go home again by the end of the dream. I don't like fighting.

Now, this is the most elaborate and surreal, or i dont know what the word is when you feel like you can control it, but the other one from last night was that. I had woken up from my plane ride back from Chile to the States, but somehow the plane had crashed on a mountain. A lot of people were dead around me, and those who were awake weren't frantic. They were all in a single file line heading out of the burning plane, slowly and very sadly. I couldn't really get my thoughts together and just stood by my chair and watched. (I was afraid of planes before this). Until finally this tiny African boy came up next to me a grabbed my hand and pulled us to the back of the line. Once we got outside we realized we were in the forest looking for roads and help and safety. When we caught up to this boys mom, she gave him a look of "I was worried about you son, but you did the right thing" And she smiled at the both of us. If that isn't God and Jesus right there, well...it is. Anyway, somehow I unfortunately left that little boy and his mother and met up with Kim Rixon. No idea why she would be on the plane. But her and I found a house where a woman let us use her phone. She called her family and asked them to pick us up. We must have been in the Cascades or something. I called Sergio, our academic director, and he didn't answer. But someone told me that they had gotten ahold of Danko, another advisor, in Vina and he was on his way. Danko doesn't have a car, so I imagined him running up South America into Central and all the way to washington while trying to put his clothes on. LOL. A while ago he told me when the earthquake happened he rushed to put all his clothes on and find his students. Which is where I got that idea. So all of us survivors were just wondering the streets of some forested neighborhood, nobody offering a house to come into. I realized Kim was gone and saw her sitting over in her parents blue subaru. I expected her mom to be in the front seat, but when I got into the back of the car it was Scott! I struggled to lay down, but Scott told me it was for the best. I looked up at his smiling face and asked him if this was a dream. Then i closed my eyes and woke up to my bedroom here in Chile. With his smile still stuck in my head. I literally woke myself up asking, "this is a dream isn't it?"This dream by far felt the most real to me. It also seemed to have a lot of strange significance. Weird, eh?

Before this dream, I had a very short one. My favorite Spanish teacher of all time at UPS, Mark, told me that this was his last year teaching at Puget Sound. I seriously woke up crying. I told him to wait at least one more year until I graduated so that I could take the rest of my spanish classes from him. But he would tell me why he was leaving, if it was personal, or the school's decision. Anyway, I facebooked him for reals yesterday telling him not to leave UPS for a while, but I have still to get a response. :(

My earliest dream was similar to the first one. It was long and very odd. I'm sure there was some significance that I cannot figure out. I was here at my house in Vina, but my mom and her boyfriends Harvey were also here. They were sitting at a table alone outside the house. My Chilean family was having a huge party, so I imagine they were just a little bit confused and intimidated by the language. But I kept going back and forth between mom and harv and all the chileans in the house. Then I realized I couldn't find my host family. And at that moment people started fleeing the house. I am not sure if its because the house slowly started to flood or if it was because the carabineros (police) came. Then I turned to see Isabella, she said "they take those threats seriously marissa" I had no idea what threats she was talking about. Maybe because I had brought a knife to chile, or because I thought about participating in the peaceful March on september 11th. Who knows. Thanks Isa, or should I say, madre. ;) Anyway, the carabineros were not very nice, they were quite frightening and kept asking me where the owners of the house were. I literally had no idea. The water continued to rise and I told them I had to get my stuff before it was all ruined so I ran into my flooded room and woke up. STRANGE.

And that was only the beginning of my weird dreams. I'm sure there will be more. Not sure where they're coming from. I'm having a great time down here and am not homesick yet. Other than this ridiculous flu I have right now, I am very content. Stay tuned lovas....

orientation

I'm back....my 4 loyal followers. :) So let me begin with arriving in Santiago. On August 29th I got to Santiago, tired as crap from an 18 hour plane ride. I went straight to my Hostal in the heart of Santiago, one of the more wealthy areas. As soon as I got there I wasn't able to get into my room because check out was at 1pm, so I got on skype and talked to my mom and harv to let them know i was safe and sound. The Haitian at the front desk tried to teach me how to use the chilean pesos so that I wouldn't get scammed, but he didn't speak any english and I was too tired to comprehend everything he was saying. I was so relieved when I got into my room and met a girl from California! English! Safety! haha. The first 2 days were awkward adjusting days. My body felt all turned around and I had no apetite. But it really was also because the lunch I had that day was more than 4 times what I could eat. Lol. That night I watched 24 (Joe, Alex, and Dylan, proud of me or what?) with Jessica, my roommate at the time. After Jessica left, I met a Chileno from the north, Arica, named Jorge. He asked me if I wanted to go eat with him....lol. I said that I wasn't hungry and had leftovers from lunch, and when he asked me to accompany him, I said I had homework and I was tired. It was kind of him, but I think he got the picture. The next day I met up with Kirsty and finished my pre-departure homework at a cafe. That night her and I went out for drinks and got some bomb ass spicy cheesy fries. lol. And of course, PISCO SOURS, a drink claimed by both chilenos and peruvians. Pisco is a type of alcohol made from grapes and the rest of the drink is lemon and sugar. DELICIOUS. But also very strong. After the first bar, we decided to go check out another and ended up meeting a huge group of British people and hanging out with them pretty late. That was party night #1, which I thought was fun, but I had no idea what was to come....

The next day Kirsty and I split a taxi to the airport where our group was meeting to go to Viña. Even though we were the earliest in Chile, we were the last to the bus. lol. We arrived at the hotel about an hour and a half after leaving the airport, all 20 of us....18 girls and 2 boys. Que ridiculo! We had orientation in the hotel where we met everyone and learned the rules and regulations and all that crap. It was fun the first few days and boring the last few. We went boating and exploring and shopping and all that jazz. I was really sad to leave the group yesterday, but also ready to move in with my host family. My host house ended up being a street away from the hotel! Its the cutest little green house. My parents names are Rosa Maria and Pancho, and my 2 brothers names are Panchito(little Pancho) and Ricardo. Its really funny how the houses are layed out here. They dont really have hallways. One room just leads to another room and everyone walks through everyone elses room to get places. I love my room so much. Tiny and cute. I've never really had a small room because I'm such a princess that I usually end up with the big one. But its very cosy. It leads out to a patio where we hang clothes to dry. You can see pictures on my facebook. I've got awesome bedding and my room is right next to the bathroom. More pictures of my house are to come. I already have SO many pictures in my Vina/Valpo album. Soon I'll have to make more albums. Hopefully facebook can hold all the pictures I take this year, and you guys can bear with me. Lol. I will eliminate the unimportant ones as I add more. Please feel free to tell me which pictures are lame. I wont be offended.

We went through a culture shock workshop that prepared me for a few hard weeks here. Apparently the excitement lasts around 4 weeks until it starts going downhill. then usually there are 3 or 4 weeks of frustration/depression/loneliness then uphill again because we are finally comfortable with the language and culture. And once back in the U.S., apparently it will dip lower than the second stage of culture shock. I hope not, but I am prepared for it. Not like I haven't dealt with depression before. I am so in love with stage one! I am so excited about everything and only a little frustrated with the language. I can already tell i'm going to have some amazing friends. Last night we went to a concert. Communist flags EVERYWHERE. Very fun. And after Allende's Chile fell you could understand why. Anyway....I have to post this right now, because "autosave failed." And I'm headed to bed. But there will be many more of these. And more details. Love ya.