Daylight savings: whose decision is it anyway?

At the end of March, Chile was meant to end daylight savings time. That is, according to international notice we were all ‘supposed’ to be turning our clocks back an hour.  The lucky ones of us all have our clocks synced to the computer’s global time, which automatically updates with daylight savings. How tech-savy of us.

Relying far too much on Apple computers and phones in our household, when we woke up on March 31st, most of our clocks had automatically changed back an hour….except for our bedside table and our truck. We were confused the entire day about which clock was right, and no internet site seemed to say the same thing. Was it 6am or 7am?  Everything just felt wrong: Em was getting up too early, and wanting to go to bed too early, store opening hours were weird.  What gives?  We just couldn’t figure it out. And given we don’t watch local TV – my Spanish is certainly not good enough quite yet – we rely on the internet for our news. According to most websites, we had gone though the clock change.  And Apple’s clock couldn’t fail us could it?

Enter: the Chile government. This year they decided to defy the world; they pushed out daylight savings by a month. Apparently the rest of the world didn’t get the memo. For the day we were completely confused (as were many of us in Santiago), but sorted it out through a bit of social media discussion. According to the Chilean government, we will change our clocks officially on April 27th. Why not, right?

A full two weeks later, I write this post sitting on an airplane from Sydney to Santiago. According to their little in-seat tracking systems, the flight announcements, and even our flight itineraries, we are to be landing at 9:30am.   However, clever as I am (right?), I happen to be aware that we’re actually landing at 10:30am, and their systems are based on the ‘supposed-time-change-that-never-happened’. As a good global citizen, I’ve tried to explain this to two flight attendants who patiently told me their watches are synced to the global computer system, while shooting that ‘how many has she had’ look over my shoulder and offering me a biscuit.  I certainly hope I’m not proven wrong on arrival, it’s about my pride now.

Seated, enjoying my peace-offering-biscuit I can’t help but wonder: who decides what time it is anyway?

Driving fun in Santiago

As we’ve been here for nearly two months (unbelievable!), we’ve started to get used to getting around in a big and busy city.  Before we start to find it ‘normal’, here are a few observations we’ve made about driving around Santiago thus far.  Thoughts about bus and metro will come later,  Achim will be the tester for those. 🙂

Streets change directions at different times of the day

Do not take for granted that if you turn down a one-way street in the morning, it will still be going in the same direction in the afternoon. Despite what the street sign says, streets change directions.  First, I have turned down a busy 4 lane street in the wrong direction, and then, have been on the road going in one direction when the road was changing to the ‘other’ direction.  Nothing like driving down a 4-lane highway to notice cars in the distance, in all lanes, coming screaming toward you.  You’d think it would be really well highlighted, with flashing signs, but often you just get a faint sign on the opposite side of the crossing letting you know of the rules.  That leads me to number two…

Street signs are small. Very small.

In order to avoid the aforementioned drama, you have to pay very special attention to any sign on the road that might indicate that between certain hours, the streets run in opposite directions. Often the sign is on the far side of the junction, mixed in amongst all the other signs and lights. Very easy to miss. Not that I could read it in the first place (note to self: up your Spanish lesson hours).

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Apparently if you use your 4-way lights, you can stop anywhere

I cant tell you the amount of times I’ve been driving down a busy road when someone in front of me has stopped randomly and put on their 4-ways to either take a call, let someone out, decide to look at map, or wait to pick someone up.  Chileans don’t seem to like it either, with all the horn-blaring that ensues, but it doesn’t seem to stop people from doing it.

“Merging lanes” is really a game of Chicken

To be fair, it was like this in Melbourne as well. But, when two lanes ‘merge’ that really means whoever plays chicken the longest (or has the most screwed-up car) will get the spot. When it comes to ‘merge-chicken’ I always suss up how damaged the other car…someone with a duct-taped bumper and an indented door will have no problem playing bumper-cars. They can therefore go first.  At some point though, you have to pull-out the aggressive side of you.  I suggest a driving playlist that includes lots of gangsta’ rap.

Traffic busking must be profitable

In the city-centre, traffic isn’t exactly great, which has given rise to the past time (or profession?) of traffic-busking.   Given the pure number of them you see around during the day, they must make a decent living from performing in front of stopped cars. I’ve already posted about this here, but it’s worth another mention. Check out the act I saw this morning – awesome.

 Traffic busking

Do NOT leave your purse on the passenger seat

This hasn’t happened to me (knock on wood) but when driving in certain areas of the city it is very important to keep your purse hidden in the car.  The wife of one of Achim’s colleagues had her passenger window smashed and her purse stolen off the seat while she was in traffic. NOT a nice experience to go through, and it’s made me paranoid. While I’ve never felt ‘in danger’ when I’ve been driving, it is worth being mindful that it can happen so don’t be careless.

Goodbye parking meters, hello green men

One thing I’ve noticed is that there aren’t any parking meters to be found. Instead, when you park in a paid parking zone, a guy with a green shirt will scurry up to give you a ticket. Then when you leave, he scurries back to collect the fee. Simple!  Although due to my fear of communication in Spanish I’ve been parking far away and walking so I don’t have to figure it out in person. Will attempt next month 🙂

 

 

Be my friend?

So far I’ve taken on many challenges in Santiago: driving down one-way streets in the wrong direction, driving into the ‘out’ in shopping centres, not being able to communicate to anyone, living out of a suitcase for 3 months, getting lost, not understanding the money, and the list goes on.  Despite all that, hands down the toughest part of uprooting your life and moving abroad is the lonliness you feel from leaving your friends and family behind. What I wouldn’t give right now to call up, say, Matt, and have him drop by with a bottle of Pinot to lounge on the couch, or discuss random TV-shows with Andy over coffee, or meet up with my mother’s group in Australia for a Thursday night cocktail or a daytime playdate.  Life is just easier when people know you.

Friend-making is like dating. You see someone from far away and get a first impression: could this person be my new best friend? Hmmmm, not sure I could befriend someone who would wear those pants in public (haha…). You make it through an initial meeting,  think they’re decent, so you have to decide whether to take the ‘next step’ and have a second ‘date’. Eventually after you see them a bunch of times the friendship sticks.  Think about how often you meet new people, and how many of those actually make the ‘conversion’ to being a real friend. Not bloody many.  In my opinion, here are the categories of friends you have:

  • Fake friends: People you don’t really like that much but have to be nice to, to keep the peace. Like that person at work that is evil (as they say, keep your enemies close).
  • Acquaintance friends: The kind of friends you have on Facebook, or in social groups you know, who you’d do a coffee with, but you definitely wouldn’t call if you were at home with stomach flu and needed someone to hold your hair while you wretch.
  • Friend by default: The friends that you wouldn’t necessarily pick out of a crowd in the first place, but circumstance turns you into friends. Like a person you end up sitting beside at work. Eventually they know more about you than your family.
  • Friends in progress: Friends that you’re seeing, who may or may not make the conversion. You like them, and you’re hopeful that it could be the start of a beautiful relationship. They (or you!) might do something shady which makes you have to awkwardly stop seeing eachother, so you’re always keeping your guard up a bit.
  • Friends: Friends are friends. You do dinner dates, you do activities together, you call to bitch about your day, or the weather (in the case of Melbourne). Your kids know each other. You’re comfortable camping together, or wearing your PJs on the couch and watching chick-flicks.
  • The friend-at-first sight: That person you connect with immediately, and are from first sight inseparable. Rare but awesome.
  • Lifers: These are the friends that you’ve had for years. Maybe they were only friends by default at one point, or maybe they were friends-at-first-sight, but since you’ve known them forever they’re like family. And they’ll always be around, even if you live far away. You can not make contact with a lifer for months, and when you do, everything is like normal. 

When you’re an expat, it’s relatively easy to make ‘acquaintance’ friends. Everyone here has uprooted their life, and left their Lifers behind. So many are on the lookout for a new BFF, and new playmates for their kids. That makes it easy, and nice (it’s much harder in a country with not as many expats, as everyone has their friends already).  But it’s also exhausting because you’re meeting lots of people and having the same kind of get-to-know-you conversations…only after you’ve seen them a few times (and shared a few drinks?) can you really start to drop the guard. Everyone is in the ‘acquaintance’ or ‘friend in progress’ stage, so you don’t have anyone to call when you’re in tears because you tripped in public, dropped your coffee, and tore your pants (note: that may or may not have happened to me). Friends come with time, but sometimes you just want to skip over the dating and find the relationship. Sigh.

Here’s a few ways to make new friends as an expat. I’m open to – and looking for – any other ideas as well!

  • Social media:  You’d be surprised how easy it is to find friends through things like Facebook. For instance, there is a facebook group called “english speaking mothers in santiago”. Here loads of moms ask questions about things like “where can I find breast pumps” through to “I’m bored and isolated, does anyone want to drag the kids to a park”.  Definitely an easy way to connect in, in English. yay!  There are loads of other groups based on interests, so if you’re new to a city it’s a simple way to get out of the house.
  • Through work: If you’re the ‘trailing spouse’ you can always get together with other wives from your husband’s company. You’ve got something in common immediately (e.g. does your husband travel as much as mine??). And if you’re working, you’ve always got your colleagues. You wonder though, if there is some ‘distance’ you should have from work-friends…?  (brings back IMD memories, no distance there – whoops!)
  • Friends of friends: I’ve had some great friends of mine introduce me to friends of theirs in Chile. Again, you’ve got something in common and normally if you both like the same mutual friend, it’s for a reason. This is my favourite way to make friends.
  • Random friend meetings: Nothing like seeing someone who looks cool at a cafe and walking up to introduce yourself. I haven’t done that, but sometimes I’d like to. What would you say though, really…something like “I like your shoes and the book you’re reading, would you like to be my friend?”. A bit creepy and rejection prone.
  • Social activity friends: I may take up a dance class, or pilates class or something. That’s a good way to make friends-by-default. Eventually you end up being friends…it might just take 10 painful pilates classes to get there.

So there you have it, eventually I wont be such a loner, it just requires a bit of effort. 🙂

From the land of chops over the land of 100 points to the land of fingerprints

(by Achim)

Every country has its own peculiarities when it comes down to how you can sign contracts or open a bank account.

Let’s start with China, the land of chops: The most important instrument in China to sign a contract is a chop.  The definition of a chop is: Cut (something) into small pieces with repeated sharp blows using an ax or knife. That is not what it is. A chop is basically a stamp that is used within companies to sign contracts instead of a signature. Chops are unique and usually carry the signatories name and it is highly illegal to copy a chop and sign documents with a copied version. How this really works out in the land that is known for counterfeiting almost everything is still a miracle to me. I don’t think this system would work in a Western country because everybody would just copy the stamp. Still remember those days when we copied the stamps they give you at the entrance to nightclubs? Maybe that’s where the definition of chop comes back in ….

Typical Chinese chops

Typical Chinese chops

Australia, the land of 100 points: In order to open a bank account, get your driver’s license, apply for visas and residency, get a phone you need to bring proof of your identity of altogether 100 points. This is usually a mix of documents carrying your picture, birthdate, residential address etc. When you leave the country this whole process is quite easy. But when you move to Australia and you are asked to prrof your residential address with a utility bill…..

Here is the example of options that was provided with our citizenship application

100 points

100 points

Chile – the land of RUT,  fingerprints and notaries: The most important number in Chile is your RUT. RUT stands for Rol Único Tributario and is a unique national identification number which is then used as a number for taxes, social insurance, passport, driver’s license, for employment, etc. More importantly you need it to get a phone contract, by a car, rent a house, get a bank account and a credit card etc. The problem being that you only receive this number as a foreigner when your visa is approved, which usually takes about 3 month. The work around is to use your RUN (Rol Único Nacional) which only takes approximately 6 weeks to get. However, you can’t use your RUN for everything and if you used it you have to change all documents, bank accounts to your RUT, which is an easy but time consuming process. Luckily for us, my company applied for my visa already last year, so we already have our permanent RUT and only had to change our bank account details but nothing else.

In order to get your RUT you have to leave fingerprints of all your 10 fingers at the government registry. And that is not electronic fingerprints, but the good old fashioned one with ink. I’m looking forward to doing that process with a 22 month old toddler! The result is a plastic identity card that includes your thumb print: most valuable piece of plastic I own now!

The thumb print in general is a very important part of lots of contracts. It is quite common that you don’t only have to sign a contract, but as well proof your identity with a thumb print. I have not yet figured out which contracts require a thumbprint and which ones don’t. It seems quite random.

I guess the system is in principle much better than the Chinese chop system. But I’ve never seen anybody having the tools to compare the thumb prints of the contract with the thumb print of my RUT card. Only the bank used once an electronic fingerprint reader when I wanted to withdraw money. At least you can proof that it wasn’t your thumb that signed the contract when things go wrong!

And I almost forgot to mention the notary: Most of the contracts (like e.g. rental contracts) do not only require thumbprints, RUT number but as well have to be legalized by a notary: for the fee of generally 6,000 CLP (appr. 12 USD). The queues are generally long and this must be the most boring job ever for a lawyer. But I’m sure the income they have is quite nice, considering that almost every legal document has to be notarized.

Typical Chilean contract - signature, fingerprints and notary

Typical Chilean contract – signature, fingerprints and notary

Let’s see what the next country brings…

First winery vist: Casas del Bosque

This weekend we decided to get out of the city for the first time. Until now, it’s seemed a bit daunting…and there has always been too much to do with the move. But, this Sunday morning at 9am we decided we needed out. And what better place to go but a winery.

My fellow winos out there will know that Chile is known for wine. This lucky wino is happy to be living a drive away from some good ones – a selling point Achim used to get me to part with my Melbourne. One that had a few good reviews, and was only around an hour from Santiago is this one, Casas del Bosque.

The drive out was gorgeous – through the rolling mountains. Em wasn’t as impressed and took the chance for a nap.

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napping – pram within reach

Along the drive

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Along the drive

The Winery

Casas del Bosque has over 232 hectares of vines, and makes around 90,000 cases per year (most of it exported). So it’s a boutique-type of winery. Having moved here from Melbourne, we assumed that we’d be able to do some tastings easily, but unfortunately you actually have to go sit around a table and do the tasting the ‘proper’ way (for about $12), which takes a bit of time.  Normally that would be great, but I’m not sure anyone around that table would have liked to hear what Em had to say about the wines (most likely: SWIIIINNNGGGGSSS MOOOMMMYYY).  So no tasting for us..dissappointment.

They also had tours of the winery and lots of other little activities we decided against. But I’m sure it’ll be fun one day down the track. All things you had to pay for – even the walking tour, which is a bit different from Australian wineries. They did, however, have a little playground with swings (and you didn’t have to pay for it!) – score.

We had a fantastic lunch, the food was excellent, and the restaurant was child-friendly:  they had a high-chair, they brought over some coloured pencils for Emily, and they also had a little kids-menu (burger, fries, cupcake…) which was great. As per usual, we ordered immediately, ate quickly, and I took Em back out to the swings while Achim paid the bill. Such is life. Of course, before playground duty, I had time to sample the Chardonnay, and could have easily had a second.  Poor Achim (the driver of the day) didn’t get to have  wine with lunch, as in Chile the alcohol tolerance is ZERO. Zero as in, if you have half-a-glass your licence will be revoked. Ouch.

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Their least expensive was around $9 for a bottle, and their premiums were around $30; not bad. So we stocked up on a few of their wines to try at home. If we couldn’t do the tasting there we might as well give it a go at home. Not all at once, of course. Well, maybe.

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A few shots from the day:

Casa del Bosque

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Strolling around the gardens

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Loving the swings

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A very healthy lunch. Whatever keeps her calm so we don’t have to do emergency-exit-tantrum-bolt.

Love a child-friendly restaurant, WITH good food.

The tourist bus

Sorry we’ve been silent for the past little while – we had our first houseguest!  Jenn flew in from New York for 5 days to see a bit of Santiago and have a good catch-up for the first time in a few years. Very exciting. And with a houseguest, it actually forces you out of your little bubble and into the world. Yes, we finally did some of the real tourist attractions in Santiago. I’ll do a few posts over the next few days outlining some of the fun 🙂

First off, we decided to first go for the gold of brazen tourist experiences – the “Tourist Bus”. Given that I’m a blatantly obvious foreigner (and tourist), I shouldn’t be so painfully embarrassed to drive around in one of those sight-seeing, roofless-double-decker buses. You know the ones I’m talking about – they’re in New York, and in London. Bright red, two-storey bus that seems to beckon out “hey you out there, come pick-pocket my riders”.

The bus-card

The bus-card

The bus is quite practical, it goes every-half-hour from 13 different spots, and does loops around Santiago. It’s not fun to drive around downtown on your own as a newcomer to this city (more about that later).  You can get on and off as often as you like. We hopped on the bus, and went up to the top level to get the ‘front row’ seats. Great seats for being paraded around Santiago, but also great seats for the locals to glare at you like you’re their tourist attraction. At traffic lights I couldn’t help but stare at my feet and avoid any eye contact. Why is that embarrassing? I don’t know, but it is.

Turistik Bus map

Turistik Bus map

All in all it was interesting as an overview of Santiago – the more developed richer side, to the downtown. Make sure you allow a full day so you can get on and off at many stops (to make it worth your $$!). We didn’t have enough time so really only got off to see a few things.

A few shots from the bus:

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Plaza de Armas – the ‘centre’ of Santiago

Views from the Turistik

Just off Plaza de Armes

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driving through downtown Santiago

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The ‘more expensive’ side of Santiago

For more info:  Turistik, cost: $40

The no-water drama

I thought I’d just put on a little story about the ‘fun’ you can run into in a new country on a not-so-typical (but really, kind of typical) day. The only Spanish speaker in our household happened to be on a business trip during all the fun.

6:30am – Go to brush teeth, nothing comes out of tap. No water in any tap in the house. To self : Panic. Who on earth do I call about this? Maybe it will just come back on. Please let it come back on.

7:30am – Still no water, decide to first google for answers before calling husband abroad and freaking out. Cant find anything. Turn to Facebook –  thank god for a group that has a post stating that we might be without water for 24 hours. Cant understand the article. Great. To self: Ok, no problem, I’ll just go buy some big bottles of water at the grocery store when it opens

9:30am – Off to the grocery store; no water anywhere to be found. Consult google translate on iPhone to ask stock-boy if there is any “agua sin gas” around. Wait 30 seconds for the translation to come through, and confidently ask the question. He responds, but I do not understand.  Smile and nod.  Red face, I ask “si or no?”. He says “no”.  To self:  You must learn Spanish, today.

10:00am – Check a convenience store. No water, decide to spare myself the embarrassment of asking.

10:15am – Whilst driving to the next store, note many people walking carrying large bottles of water.  To self:  Panic! What if I can’t I find any water? What if the water doesn’t turn back on in 24 hours? Emily will dehydrate!

10:30am – Next large grocery store. Drive in the out-ramp and get confused as to why the entry tickets are BEHIND the barrier. Figure it out and have to reverse out of the ramp, while others stare at the gringa. Ashamed.

10:45am – Made it into store. Bolt to water section to discover no water left. Contemplate checking the carts of other shoppers to steal theirs. In a last-ditch effort go to the “cold storage” section to find a the last few bottles of Evian (expensive as gold, imported to Chile from France) left.  Pile the last bottles left into the cart before others can get them. To self:  You are a star, you found water, you saved your family! 

11:00am – Feeling confident, parading around store doing some shopping  with three bottles of Evian in cart. Relieved. Panic starts to abate.

11:20am – Get to long checkout line and halfway through discover there is no wallet in purse. First contemplate grabbing the water and making  a run for it. Then contemplate crying. To self: Panic. What the…? You are a fool. Where is your wallet? Did you get pick pocketed? Did you forget it? How could you do this…now you have to forfeit your water to the hungry wolves.

11:30am – Reluctantly leave full grocery cart near door and run to car to search for wallet. Realise then that I cant pay for parking, nor explain why I can’t pay for parking to the parking attendant. To self: Panic. I have nobody to call for help.

11:45am – Find wallet on floor of car. Score!  Run back to store and cart still waits with water. Yay! Begin the awkward process of checking-out when you cant understand anything the lady says to you. Repeat several times “no hablo espanol” with a red face. Feel the eyes of everyone around on me.

11:50am – Nearly out of store. Go to pay for parking, cant find parking entry ticket in purse. Line starts to grow behind me. To self: Is this really happening to me? Am I losing my mind?

11:52am – Parking lady gives gringa a break and hands over a new ticket. Dig through purse to find right amount but dont understand bills that are in denominations of 1,000. Takes a few seconds. Annoyed, parking lady hands over exit ticket and waves me away. Others in line release an audible sigh of relief.

12:15pm – Home, exhausted. First drama of the day over. Sit in the car in the parking garage with eyes closed for a few minutes.  Decide not to leave the house ever again.evian