This weekend it occurred to me how much our life here is removed from what we would be doing a few short months ago. Basically, I am living Sliding Doors, when Gweneth Paltrow’s life splits into two parallel universes, based on two possible paths her life could take depending on whether she catches a London Underground train or not. Just as easily, our lives in Ipswich could have taken an entirely different path.
On Thursday evening our nanny stayed an extra hour, so Rich and I could go to an end of year party at our principal’s house. Though, we attended end of year Christmas parties at home, this one was on a deck of a house built into a mountain. I was initially jealous of their gorgeous poolside views and panoramic windows overlooking the hills, but I think the prospect of carrying groceries up that steep climb might outweigh any scenic vista.
On the way home, I stopped at the side of the road and bought a 5 kg of box of cherries for about $12. I have to remind myself that I will get sick if I eat them all too fast.
Friday morning I shoveled a dead bird off my porch. It made me realize that the only thing I would be doing with a shovel this entire year is moving our cat’s trophies off our front step. I am not missing the winters of the Northeast at all.
We went to a yard sale on Saturday at our school and bought some English books and another scooter, as it appears you can never have too many Razor scooters. It occured to me that nothing (including this large outdoor yard sale) for three quarters of the year has a rain date because it will no doubt be warm and sunny.
Later that afternoon we went to an open mic night at a colleague’s house near Santuario De La Naturaleza El Arrayán. It felt like the whole school had turned out for the event; remarkably there were no poor acts. It is amazing how many talented musicians work at a single school. Perhaps, the risk of singing in front of a large audience is comparable in some way to the risk of moving overseas.
And the craziest occurrence of the night happened while Rich was unpacking the amp out of his car. A man greeted me at the gate with a hug “It is so good to see you.” He seemed vaguely familiar especially around his eyes, but he did not say his name nor seem to remember mine. It was only after Rich and this man were playing together onstage that Rich realized that this was Gary Blanton- a friend of ours from Graded School in Brazil. We had not seen each other in 14 years. Out of context, none of us recognized each other right away. However, it took us no time at all to reminisce about soccer games, our beach house in Cambury, and some wild nights in Sao Paulo. By the end of the night, Rich was rocking out to Prince’s Kiss while Gary and I were jumping around singing the lyrics at the front of the stage. Our kids were lying in a heap ready for bed, the first I had really seen them for a sustained time all party. They had been running around the river, playing tag and hide and seek. Later in the car, Max admitted that his friends had gone mountain climbing up the craggy ridge across the street; he knew that I would not like that so he had declined. Mia chimed in that a parent had apparently told the group of kids that rock dodge ball was out. Though admiring the musical prowess of my husband happens at home too, both my free range parenting and meeting a former friend from a lifetime ago are strikingly unique to living here.
We slept in late on Sunday morning, and I had to hurry getting dressed after the gate bell rang. Our cook, Maria, was early and her usual delighted self happy poised to make us pumpkin muffins (gluten free), chocolate coconut muffins, Vietnamese chicken/cabbage salad, carrot soup, Spanish tortilla, quinoa salad, fresh pasta sauce, and beet salad on Sunday morning. Do not question how all of those things go together, but I have a refrigerator filled with yumminess. I am so glad to have her help. It is so important to me that we eat well, but I cannot seem to make nutritious meals every night during our busy weeks. It looks like we will not have pancakes for dinner this week at all; brinner (breakfast for dinner) has always been a staple. Though I miss Brookwood lunches, nothing compares to delivery subscription. When I ran out of eggs today, there is an easy fix. Cornershop it! You can have anything delivered in Chile.
Sunday late morning I had a semi-final softball game against a team of lawyers. Of course, the name of their team is Buck Yeah! I got my wish as I was sort of hoping to lose because the winners had to play the final in the next game today. You might think that I have become soft in Latin America, but last week our captain broke his collarbone diving for a fly ball in left field. In both Ipswich and Santiago, regardless of how competitive I am, I do not have time for this kind of injury.
Rather than spending the whole day playing softball, Mia and I went for a hike in the foothills of the Andes. As per usual Sunday, Max and Rich watched some Patriot football.
This week I will be co-facilitating a middle school humanities pullout day. Hopefully we will develop the scope and sequence of grade 6-8 topics, broad concepts, case studies, and s.s. concepts. Teachers will also have the opportunity to brainstorm the possibilities for literacy learning. On Wednesday, I am wrapping up a coaching cycle with an 11-12 grade applied science teacher. I have a final meeting with my Freshmen seminar team regarding next steps to plan stage one of UBD for their unit on nutrition. I have a meeting with a high-school fellow to discuss her final exams with her IB seniors for Mandarin. This semester it is a dream that I do not have to worry about grading papers, writing comments, or planning English classes.
Best of all, in four days we will begin our summer holidays. We have over 50 days off starting Thursday. We leave Saturday for a Christmas on the beach, which actually could happen in Ipswich, and the water temps are probably comparable. But we have 50 days off, wahoot! Happy Holidays, everybody. May 2020 find you meeting friends in surprising places, eating delicious food, and keeping your collarbone intact. I suppose this could happen in Ipswich, too.
Living in Chile 