It seems like a funny thing to be taken surprise by, but it
continues to amaze me how similar my Chilean family is to my family. I don't
know why, but it just never occurred to me that that families in other
countries would take family bike rides or walks after dinner. Marilou, my host
mom, has to spend evenings paying bills and balancing the checkbook. They eat
leftovers and play games. Of course the language we speak may be different, but
I think we have more in common with other people than we could ever possibly
imagine. We just have to take the time to notice.
I've really enjoyed living with my host family. Daniel and
Marilou are so patient with me as I struggle to communicate basic ideas.
They're genuinely concered for my health and well being and have gone out of
their way to show me what it's like to be Chilean.
For example, last night as I was eating dinner Marilou got a
phone call. She talked to the person on the other end for about 30 seconds
before pressing the phone up against my ear. With a mouth full of rice, I try
to comprehend what the voice coming through was trying to tell me but couldn't
understand a word over the music blaring in the background. A few seconds later
she had hung up the phone and was reaching for the car keys, "¡Vamos!"
She called as she headed for the door.
As usually I was pretty much clueless as to where we were
going. Usually it's too complicated to explain beforehand so I just get in the
car and figure it out as we go. This time we drove down to a little
amphitheater down by the beach. Turns out the phone call was from Daniel, my
host dad, and the source of the mystery music was an exhibition of traditional
Chilean dances that happens once a month during the summer. (Information I
gleaned using my Spanish skills thank you very much.)
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