So it's been 6 months...

I’m sitting here in a creaky wooden chair in one of my favorite coffee shops in the charming neighborhood of Barrio Lastarria in Santiago. January’s summer breeze is floating in lazily from the open door. I’m enveloped by a humming marriage of fellow patrons’ Chilean Spanish and British-accented English. I’m picking apart the remains of a bagel that they loaded with salmon, but really skimped on the cream cheese. And I’m reflecting on my first 6 months of Chile.

          Living abroad in Santiago has not been glamorous, and don’t believe anyone who tells you it is. What you see on social media is a curated second in a day filled with 86,399 other seconds (source: Google) of sore feet, under-caffeination, over-priced restaurant lunches, lack of air-conditioning, homesickness, loneliness, insecurity, and more miserable things I can’t think of right now. Without a doubt, this has been the most emotionally and mentally challenging 6 months of my life. It’s been detrimental to my health, my relationship with food, and my self-esteem (but I’m fine now, Mom, don’t worry). I don’t think I’ll fully realize how much living abroad has changed me until it’s over and I’m peering back into that window from the outside.

           But. BUT. There are also days where I can’t believe how lucky I am. I’m waking up in the morning to the Cordillera de los Andes, when I remember to look for them. I’m sinking my teeth into the juiciest peaches and smoothest avocados I’ve ever tasted (and now my mouth is watering). I’m weezing and moaning my way up some of the most breath-taking terrain on earth (in gear that makes me look like I know what I’m doing, at least). I’m surrounded by some of the wisest and warmest people I’ve met, both expats and Chileans. I’m learning how to surf on a beach in January and not totally sucking at it. And if I find myself restless in Santiago on the weekend, I’m spending a few bucks boarding a bus to towns I’ve never been to eat yet another empanada.

          Beyond its bucket-list worthy experiences, Chile is shaping who I am. Before, I thought maybe The Hands were forming me into a very functional bowl, but now it looks like I might turn out to be a vase in the shape of a heron. Something weird like that. Moving here stripped me of a support system, but in the process it also stripped me of everything that hindered my growth, like routine and protection and comfort. What a terrifying yet totally liberating concept it is to start from nothing; to be nothing to everybody; to essentially not exist (both figuratively and as of yet still unrecognized by the Chilean government as an actual human being). When I stop letting it freak me out, the anonymity opens a world of possibility.

           I arrived with some aggressive goals that I’ve been procrastinating and making excuses for like crazy. No, I’m nowhere near proficient in Spanish yet. Sorry, I only have 2 posts on my blog and they are kind of pathetic and don’t really tell you anything at all about Chile. Oops, I forgot to write and organize an entire EFL curriculum so that I could start to be someone in my field. Instead, I’ve accidentally been spending my free time cooking and doing yoga, two activities I couldn’t really consistently get on board with in the states. Sure, the things I cook are only edible about half the time (re: homemade pasta sauce with fresh tomatoes) and my downward facing dog looks more like a chihuahua than a greyhound. But how nice it is to give myself permission to just “be” and note how I spend my time as if I were a passive observer. And, dear reader, if you knew me well in the States, or even just sort of met me one time at a party when we were buzzed, you knew the answer to the trivia question “is Jannah chill?” was a resounding “she’s about as chill as an egg on the dashboard of my locked Prius on a sunny day in July in Missouri.” Now, maybe the answer could be, “well, maybe she has a little chill.” So in a way I think learning to “be” might be my biggest accomplishment to date.