But today as I was sitting at the metro station waiting for my train, I started to think about what Chile has come to mean to me. I mean, what is Chile? And this is what flooded my mind:
Chile is bread and avocado for breakfast (and dinner). It's hot chocolate and Bible reading at the dining room table on lazy mornings. It's running through the city to get to the beach and walking along the coast, letting the waves freeze your ankles. It's commuting to school every morning by hopping on the metro, through whose windows you can take in the view of the sea. It's talking to toddlers in the park or on the metro (who have probably about the same level of language as me). Chile is buying 3 sweaters for under 5 bucks each and earrings for 2 dollars a pair. It's traveling to new places with breathtaking views of mountains and lakes and in the process, learning what it actually means to be prepared for anything. Chile is my Chilean friends telling me I look exactly like their prima (cousin) and my host mom telling me I look beautiful, just for no reason at all. It's making jokes in Spanish and spending afternoons in cafes with friends. It's watching the sun set over the far side of the ocean while you sit on a sand dune, surrounded by a dozen more. It's spending evenings learning to play new Spanish songs on the keyboard, singing songs in Spanish and English with friends from church, drinking tea, and laughing at the craziness of everyone's Spanglish. It's having a party on the rooftop where you can take in all the city lights at night. It's deep conversations about Jesus and thinking outloud with friends about where our lives are headed.
But Chile is also foreign. It's streams of people around me 24/7. It's people speaking the fastest Spanish you've ever heard in your life and trying to decipher their words so make sure you're on the right bus. It's people piling into the metro that you thought was already filled to maximum capacity. It's the way the men look you up and down and make comments as you walk by, trying not let it bother you this time. Chile is not being able to understand jokes and feeling like you can't actually express who you are and what you're feeling because you're using your second language. It's people interrupting you and completing your sentences when you just want them to know that you can get the thought out, it just might take a little patience on their part. Chile is longing for deeper friendships and missing the ones you have back home. It's being different no matter how hard you try to fit in.
Chile is ups and downs. Good days and bad days.
Chile is learning to take people at their word and believing they want the best for you. It's trying to figure out the unspoken cultural rules of family and friends and relationships. It's the opportunity to rely on God when nothing else is familiar. Chile is my temporary home. I'm so thankful for the month and a half I've had here so far, and I'm so excited for the time that remains.
