Just another part of the family...

I made it up in time for church this morning! And I'm so glad I went, it was really interesting. I found it most amusing when the little old ladies who greet you outside the door were all hanging out there together, smoking away. I was definitely not in Kansas anymore. But it was a good experience for me to see, especially since I could understand it (as opposed the one I attended in Barcelona, performed in Catalan). While Catholicism is the claimed religion of nearly 75% of the people here, very few of those actually attend Mass with any sort of regularity but it seemed to me that those that do are very devout. Another funny observation: when everyone goes forward for communion, every woman, without exception, carries her pocketbook with her. It just looked so odd to see women so solemnly taking their communion with purses slung over their shoulders! (Maria later told me it's because there had been an incident of some neighborhood kids coming in and stealing purses in the past).

Also, attending the service made me feel slightly better about my Spanish. I've been disappointed in myself a lot during this month because, while my speaking is quite good, I feel that I should be able to understand a lot more than I do. I know that Chilean Spanish is notoriously one of the "worst" of the South American countries; before I came, my Colombian friend told me that if I can understand Chilean Spanish, I'll know that I'm really fluent! Even the Chileans themselves will tell you with a big grin how bad their Spanish is, that they speak with a hard-to-understand accent and that they cut off a lot of their words. But none of that really made me feel better... until this morning. During the Mass, I was reading along with the words as the priest was speaking them. It was the first time I've had the chance to know verbatim what someone was saying rather than just trying to understand. And as I was reading along, seeing all of those words that I KNOW but yet still could barely decipher, even while reading them in the same moment he was speaking them, then I finally got just HOW difficult the accent is here. It's not just a matter of my Spanish sucking. It's a matter of Chileans not pronouncing half of their words! And then I felt better.

I had another cool moment of realization this weekend. I mentioned that Friday in class we were talking about cultural things. One of the items that Margaret mentioned was how Chileans have a tendency to keep people at arm's length until they reeeeally know that they can trust them. She cited the fact that most Chileans have a very formal sitting room that they never use, except when having over company that they're not familiar with. When having over family or close friends, they always sit either at the table or in the less formal sitting areas of the house. Once she said it, it made me realize that the first day I was here, we sat in the formal sitting room but haven't sat there since. And we started out having all of our meals in the formal dining room but about half way through Maria announced that we would start taking them at the kitchen table. I didn't realize what an honor this was but, according to Margaret, that means that they truly consider me a part of the family! Woo-hoo!

Another sign of this, when Maria started whispering conspiratorially to me last night about how much the granddaughters have been over lately (they showed up Friday night and stayed until this evening, uninvited) and.... well, let's just say that when she started talking to me about those sorts of things, I knew I was in tight!

Today was my last almuerzo (main meal of the day) with the family. Sad times. So I got to pick what I wanted to have and I chose "choripan", which is mini-chorizos (a type of sausage) on freshly baked rolls topped with an amazing homemade picante salsa. And Edgar's homemade grape juice. And vino. Mmmmmm!

And a random sidenote: I've noticed that Maria often calls Edgar "Viejo". In the beginning, I assumed I was just misunderstading her as it literally means "Old man" and, really, for whom is that an endearment? But I finally asked about it and she told me that it is absolutely a term of endearment and is said with much "cariño" (care). "Mi viejito" is an even more diminutive term, meaning literally "My little old man". But she assures me they're both meant with the highest regard. Yeah, see if any of your spouses feel the same way when you try calling them "Old man" or "Old lady" sometime!