La Familia Menendez

My living situation has taken a couple of interesting turns since arriving. After I was whisked away from the airport by my host teacher, Patricia, I started to wonder exactly where we were going. We drove through the middle of town and she pointed out all the important sites: the school, the plaza de armas (main square), the grocery stores, the post office, etc. As we drove by the school one more time, she told me to pay attention because we'd be making the trip to my house from the school backwards and I'd need to remember how to get there the next morning. As we turned onto my street and began searching for the correct address, it was clear that she'd never met the people with whom I'd be staying. That made me a bit nervous. We pulled up to a relatively large yellow house that had some cardboard covering a few of the upstairs windows. Oh boy.

The man that greeted us at the door was probably in his early 30's and introduced himself as Jose. He brought me inside and walked me to my room. Something wasn't quite right. Now I'd never lived with a Chilean family or even been invited into an actual Chilean house so I couldn't claim to be an expert but this just didn't feel like a home. As he showed me to my room and handed me a padlock that I'd attach to the door when I leave, it dawned on me that I was the newest guest in a small hostel.

Jose was very nice and always interested in practicing his English, which he learned by listening to Radiohead, U2 and Metallica. Oddly, his ex-wife also lived in the hostel (in a separate room, of course) with their 2 1/2 year old son, Luis Martin. He explained that at the moment, there were 6 other people staying in different rooms throughout the hostel but he regularly accommodates up to 15 or 16. This is when the alarms in my brain started to really scream. I didn't sign up to stay at a hostel with nearly 20 people that would be coming and going all the time. I wasn't really comfortable with the padlock on the door or the prospect of sharing a bathroom with strangers for the next 8 months. I wanted a family that I could share this experience with. Someone to make me feel welcome and teach me about life in Chile. I was already having doubts about my ability to make it until the end of November. Oh boy.

When I arrived at school the next morning, Patricia asked me how I liked the house. I could tell by the way she asked the question that she wasn't comfortable with the situation either. She explained that they'd had a lot of difficulty finding a place for me to stay because most of the student's families live too far away from the school for me to be able to walk there within 20-25 minutes (it's one of the rules of our program). She did say she was working on finding a better place and was excited about a call she'd gotten earlier that morning about an interested family. I know taking in a stranger from another country that doesn't speak your language is a big deal so I expected to stay at the hostel for at least a few weeks. I was less than excited but still determined to make the best of the situation.

The very next day, I got a call from our regional support contact, Lorena, letting me know that the family Patricia had mentioned agreed to take me in. She said she'd be paying them a visit later that day to speak with the family and check out the house (there are rules about me having to have my own room, hot water, etc). She said she'd try to let me know what decision was made within a couple of days. As I headed home for lunch a few hours later, I kept busy by reminding myself that things always work themselves out.

About 15 minutes after I got home, Lorena called me and said the family and house was great and they were very excited to invite me into their home. She said they'd be coming by the hostel to pick me up...in 30 minutes. Oh boy.

Sure enough, I heard a knock at the door and saw two women standing outside about 30 minutes later (which qualifies as a minor miracle because everyone is late to everything in Chile). Monica, mi mama, and Camila, her daughter, were there to whisk me away. As we pulled up to their house, an immediate sense of relief washed over me. They showed me to my room which is small but has a big window, a desk, a TV and a closest (in some ways, it's nicer than my room in HB was) and told me to put my bags down so I could come to the kitchen to eat some cazuela. I sat and enjoyed this homecooked, delicious meal and wondered how in the world everything about this experience had changed so quickly. This is what I'd come for. This was how it was supposed to feel the first time.

Having been there for about a week now, I can say with confidence that the family is absolutely great. The parents are named Monica and Gerrardo. They've made me feel like their new son. In orientation, we'd heard that Chilean kids can be a bit spoiled by their parents and I've definitely seen evidence of this so far with the kids in the house. Of course, I've also reaped the benefits as well. Whenever I'm around, Monica always asks about how I'm feeling, if I'm hungry, if I need something to eat and etc. She's very sweet and even speaks some English. Gerrardo is a great guy and we've already shared quite a few grunts while watching soccer highlights that qualify as male bonding at it's most basic level. Yesterday, we drank beers in the garage while he told me about all the music he likes (Depeche Mode is one of his favorites). It was cool.

As for the kids, there are 3 girls and 1 boy. Camila goes to the university in town and studies English, which means she's my personal translator. Isabel and Coti are both in high school. Coti, short for Constanza, is a freshman at the school I work at. Gerrardo, aka Gerradito, also attends a different high school somewhere in town and is a pretty good at ping pong. He actually went to Santiago last week to compete in the national championships. They're all very sweet and like to laugh at me when I try to speak Spanish. Fortunately, I'm very used to having younger siblings make fun of me constantly (thanks for the practice, Nick & Carly).

The family owns a motorcycle shop and Gerrardo races quads. I was a little taken aback by that news at first because of the stigma motocross fans carry with them in SoCal. Thankfully, the motocross scene down here is nothing like it is there so I should be able to make it through this experience without ever having to done a flat cap or a Skin Industries t-shirt. I'm supposed to go with them to a race this Sunday. We'll see how it goes.

I feel incredibly lucky to have been placed in such a great house. I'm so grateful for and impressed by the warm generosity that has been extended to a stranger from half way around the world that can't utter much more than "Me gusta pollo" on any given day.