Chile: It’s a Dog’s World

I like dogs well enough. Don’t have one; might someday, but for now, I’m happy to let more enthusiastic others feed, bathe, and sterilize them. Oops. I forgot. Touchy subject. My gringa is showing… Chilean dogs seem to have some kind of constitutional right to fulfill their biological destiny, and most pet owners feel that it is cruel to “fix” an animal before it has had the chance to procreate at least once. The result: far more cats and dogs than people who want to care for them. And that means a lot of strays… or at least it seems like there are a lot of strays.

This pack of 7 or 8 neighborhood dogs run past my window several times a day

Leash laws—if they exist, I’ve never been able to tell— are not enforced. Dogs are allowed to “go out and play,” snooze when they’re tired, and come home when they get hungry. The streets are full of dogs just hanging out, having a good time, and generally not bothering anyone. It makes sense. Dogs that are cooped up all day go crazy when they manage to break loose for a while. The unfamiliar lack of restraint—no owner, no leash, no fences, no rules, no holds barred—makes them do strange things. They jump, they bark, they bite. They abandon the civility imposed upon them in the human world they inhabit. Their natural instincts return and they act, well, like animals.

Cats and dogs often wander in and out of casual restaurants

Chileans seem to have another kind of relationship with animals. It’s a live-and-let-live laissez faire attitude that endows domestic animals with the same apparent right to share public space as birds, squirrels (which, by the way, don’t exist in Chile), and, of course, humans. Chilean dogs are often free to come and go as they please, and as a result, really don’t seem to care much about what anyone else is doing, and vice versa. Dogs are an extremely common sight on busy city streets and parks. Even the Plaza de la Constitución, in front of La Moneda, the presidential palace, is full of dogs—some with collars (i.e. owners), some without—that spend the entire day playing in the park and rarely seem to notice the hordes of tourists or uniformed officers or speech-making dignitaries or marching protesters or snuggling couples who want to share their space.

Let sleeping dogs lie--wherever they want!

When I first came here I was struck by the number of “dead dogs” on busy sidewalks. Later I discovered they weren’t dead at all, just sleeping. They doze wherever they want, and if that means in the middle of a busy sidewalk, no problem, everyone just steps around them, mindful to let sleeping dogs lie.

As an even more extreme example of humans respecting canine rights, recently, while out for an evening walk in a quiet coastal town, a dog in heat with a large number of “suitors” managed to stop traffic while the drivers waited for the dogs to finish their business and move out of the road. (It’s a dog’s world, I tell ya!)

By the way… the stereotypical dog’s name in Chile? Not Rover, or Spot, or Fido (have you ever really known one of those?)… The quintessential Chilean dog’s name is Bobby! (pronounced BO-bee)

If reincarnation turns out to be the way things work out and I get to choose, I’m coming back as a Chilean dog!

For more on dogs, see “In Search of the Bicentennial Chile Dog“

 

Mechoneo: March Rite of Passage

Sí, llegó marzo… and despite all the problems that March brings with it, it has its upside as well. Fall has always been my favorite season, and in Chile, March IS autumn; there’s not much in terms of colorful falling leaves, but it IS harvest time (uber cool for wine geeks, but we’ll leave that, too, for another day)… AND, it’s back to school time. Ok, so I’m a not-so-closeted nerd at heart. I grew up in the country after nearly 3 months of forced tranquility, I was always VERY glad to go back to school!

Mechones from U. Finis Terrae- Santiago

In Chile, March is also the month of mechones and mechoneos… and in Chile, mechoneo, or hazing, is not just a frat rat stunt. First year students at just about every university in the country are subjected to a few days of “fun-spirited” abuse.

I do admit that things seem to be much more subdued than in the past, when it was not uncommon to hear of some poor soul who had died after being forced to chug Clorox or undergoing some other ridiculously absurd thing they were required to do in order to enter the realm of the socially accepted.

I’ve been on the watch for mechones this year and have made a point to ask them what they’ve been subject to. The first pair, 2 shoeless ick-and-gook-covered young women from Universidad Finis Terrae, were very timidly standing a bit too far from the entrance to the Manuel Montt Metro station, not very successfully attempting to appeal to the mercy of passersby to help them out.

Shoeless mechones, Santiago de Chile, 2009

I asked what they had to do: “They won’t give our shoes back until we bring back $13,500 pesos and a cigarette.” $13,500?? That’s like $22.50 in USD… Each. That’s a lot of money here, where most people will walk past them feigning oblivion and those willing to help fork over $100 pesos (that means getting 135 people–each–to reach into their pockets!) Mom & Dad more likely.

Mechones with chicken foot, U Mayor, Santiago de Chile

A couple days later I ran into another dirty duo at the Santa Lucía Metro. They were just as covered in crud, but far more into their game. They were playing it up and raking in the change. They, students of Universidad Mayor, were required to return with $8500 each–plus a chicken foot, which they proudly dangled from a string.

I generally see this behavior as harmless bonding behavior–as long as it stays within the boundaries of face painting and flour throwing, without getting into the category of nasty, denigrating, or dangerous. Chilean culture is very much group oriented and sharing initiation experiences provides opportunities for bonding. These students will sit in the same classrooms and share the same curriculum for the next 4 years and struggle through a group thesis for at least another year. They are entering into a social networking system that began long before Facebook and will be a vital part of their careers for the rest of their lives. In a culture that places such great importance on contacts, being part of the group is essential. And that requires a rite of passage: mechoneo.

Llegó Marzo (March is upon us)

Llegó Marzo, literally, March has arrived… or rather, it is upon us.
Llegó Marzo. Two little words imbued with so much cultural significance.

It’s March. And in Chile, March is a rough month. Here in the southern hemisphere it means that summer is over and it’s time to get back to a real world that’s been waiting with a vengeance. Playtime’s over and we must buckle down, tote that barge and lift that bale once again.

Most real work seems to get done in the winter months, between April and August. Things start winding down in September with the arrival of spring and the extended Independence Day holidays. October starts the slippery slide toward the summer homestretch. November: school is wrapping up and the wedding season is on. December means graduations, shopping, holiday parties, and Christmas. January kicks off literally with a bang (fireworks), and let the summer begin. Vacations. Beach time. Travel time. Can’t get much done at work because people are already on mental vacation. February: the world comes to a screeching halt as the city bails and takes its urban hustle-bustle on the road. Mostly to the beach.

And then comes March. Reality kicks in… hard… Back to work, back to school, back to routine. Back to traffic jams, crowded subways and buses and long lines for colectivos.

And back to the bills-in-waiting after months of celebrations. Back to the bank for a loan. The ghost of Christmas (and summer) past stands shoulder to shoulder with the specter of costs to come. And as if back to school expenses weren’t brutal enough (registration, tuition, uniforms, books, schools supplies, etc.), someone got the bright idea that every car registration in the country must be renewed–you guessed it–in March (more lines, more bills). And taxes aren’t far behind.

March. It’s a government plot, I tell ya…
Hear that whip cracking? My theory is that it’s the government’s way of forcing us all back to work after such a long hiatus… Making sure that everyone is up to their necks in debt from the get-go to ensure another year of production!

Driving Tips, Chilean Style (Manejar, a la chilena)

The topic is driving… again… But this time it’s not my opinion, but rather a tongue-in-cheek look at Chilean driving styles written by Chilean journalist Marcela Recabarren and translated from the February 7, 2009 edition of Paula magazine (page 81). It’s always interesting to have some insight into what Chileans think about themselves.

Nuevamente el tema se trata de los modos de conducir de los chilenos, pero esta vez no es opinión mía. Se trata de unas observaciones de la periodista Marcela Recabarren, publicadas en la revista Paula. Ver la versión original en el primer comentario abajo.

Driving behaviors that show just how far we are from living a civilized lifestyle:
1. You’re in a traffic jam and someone signals that they want to change lanes.
Reaction: you speed up so they can’t move in.

2. The driver in front of you lets another car slide in ahead of him.
Reaction: you blow your horn in protest against the nerd that lets others cut ahead.

3. Now you try to change lanes, but no one lets you in.
Reaction: you swear at the idiots who won’t let you in, although they can’t hear you because your window is rolled up.

4. You see a car with a “Student Driver” sign.
Reaction: you speed past with your foot to the floor so that she understands how to really drive.

5. A pedestrian attempts to cross the street at a crosswalk and no one lets him pass.
Reaction: you stop and let them cross, just to make yourself feel good. The effect last all day, although you continue to practically run over every other pedestrian you see.

The Ant and the Grasshopper, a la Chilena

Many outsiders find the issue of social class to be highly visible–perhaps even palpable–in Chilean culture. Today’s post touches on the often sore subject of class differences.

Para español usa la herramienta de traducción arriba a la derecha. La versión chilena de la historia está reproducido en español en el primer comentario.

Ok, let’s get down to business. Today’s post is more polemical than past entries, and I not only suspect–but I hope–it will generate discussion. A Chilean coworker sent me one of those e-mail “jokes” that was a parody of Aesop’s old fable on the Ant and the Grasshopper . You know the one: the hardworking ant spends the summer preparing for the rough winter ahead while the fun-loving grasshopper lives for the moment and suffers the consequences later on.

Reflected in this version are a host of underlying ideas about the state of Chilean culture. It makes very clear certain perspectives on class division, notions of capitalism vs. socialism, who deserves and who doesn’t, what is fair and what isn’t. Of course the story is pointed and exaggerated, but the raw edges that are very much present in Chilean culture are all there.

 Some people find this story hilarious; others find it very sad, and yet others just nod in painful agreement. Where do you stand? Do you prefer Aesop’s version that emphasizes the moral virtues inherent in the work ethic? Or do you side with this version of the battle between the haves and the have nots? Or maybe you have a completely different take on the story? Please let us know!

 Aesop Revisited:

The ant works hard all summer under the blazing sun. He builds his house and stocks it with sufficient supplies to last through the winter. The grasshopper, meanwhile, thinks the ant is stupid and spends the summer laughing, playing, and dancing.

Come winter, the ant snuggles in to his cozy house to wait for spring. The grasshopper, on the other hand, organizes a press conference and, shivering with cold, demands to know why the ant has the right to such a nice home and well-stocked pantry when others less fortunate go cold and hungry.

The local TV station broadcasts a live program that shifts cameras back and forth between the cold and miserable grasshopper and the cozy ant sitting at his bountiful table.

The church says that the grasshopper is an example of social inequality. The Chilean people are amazed that in a country as prosperous as theirs that the poor grasshopper is left to suffer while others live with abundance. Human rights and anti-poverty organizations protest in front of the ant’s house. Journalists publish a series of articles that ask how the ant became so rich on the back of the grasshopper and urge the government to increase the ant’s taxes to finance a better life for the grasshopper.

In response to opinion polls, the government drafts a law on economic equality and another retroactive anti-discrimination law. The ant’s taxes keep rising and he receives a fine for not hiring the grasshopper as his assistant over the summer.

The authorities seize the ant’s home because he no longer has enough money to pay the fine and taxes. The ant leaves Chile and moves to Switzerland, where he has a long and prosperous life.

The local TV does a report on the grasshopper, who has since become fat from gorging on all the food left in the house before the spring arrived. The ant’s old house is turned into a refuge for grasshoppers, and it deteriorates because they don’t do anything to keep it up. The government is criticized for not providing the necessary funding. An investigation is commissioned at the tune of $100,000, and in the meantime the grasshopper dies of an overdose .

The media comments on the government’s failure to correct the problem of social inequality. The house is now occupied by a band of immigrant spiders from Perú, and the government congratulates itself on cultural diversity in Chile.