Fuente de Soda: Schop, Cortado, Completo, Cueca Brava & Buddy Richard…

Quick: where was this picture taken?

It’s a pretty safe bet that there’s only one country on Earth that this picture could have been taken.

Do you know?

There are plenty of clues here… Keywords like Fuente de Soda, Schop, Completo, and Buddy Richard are a dead giveaway to the country…
Cueca Brava even provides clues to the city.

Is it clear yet?

Chile of course… that was a no-brainer. But congrats if you named the city as Valparaíso—and quadruple points if you knew the street! (O’Higgins!)

So, for those of you still in the dark… What were the clues? Let’s go through them one by one:

Fuente de soda: a literal translation of the North American “soda fountain,” although in practice, they tend to be more of a type of sandwich shop, rather than the typical ice cream and soda shop that was so popular in the US in the 50s and 60s. For example, I have never seen them serve an ice cream soda (or a banana split or even a sundae), but they do serve beer (schop).

Escudo: One of Chile’s favorite national beers.

Schop: Draft beer. Places that sell schops are often called “schoperías.” As far as I know this is pretty standard Chilensis for a frosty (or not) mug.

Café (express / cortado): Most Chileans tend to drink instant coffee at home (Nescafé, sometimes referred to by purists as “no-es-café” (it is not coffee), has a definite corner on this large market) When they go out, they drink “café café” (coffee-coffee) and say “vale la redundancia” (it bears repeating) to explain that this is no regular coffee (which would be Nescafé) but rather REAL coffee.  And it will probably come in a very small (demitasse) cup and often includes a small glass of soda water and a couple of little butter cookies on the side.
The whole coffee vs Nescafé thing warrants an entry of its own… it’ll happen one of these days.

In the meantime know that if you go to a coffee shop they’ll ask if you want “express” (espresso), cortado (café con leche), or capucchino (don’t be fooled by the name—this version comes with a ton of whipped cream).

Completo: Chilean hot dog topped with an abundance of mayonnaise, (see A Hotdog is Not a Completo).

Menú: You might think that a menu is a list of everything a restaurant has to offer. But you’d be wrong. If you ask for the menu, the waiter will be happy to recite the list of daily specials. If you want to see the full list, you’d better ask for the carta.

Colación: When it comes to lunch, Chileans seem to make a very clear distinction between almuerzo, which is the word we all learned in Spanish class for the midday meal, and colación. The term colación is used in relation to the quick-ish lunch that is eaten at school or work, while almuerzo is the leisurely meal eaten at home.

Cueca Brava: Also called cueca chora or cueca urbana, this is the more bohemian side of the traditional Chilean cueca (the national dance, by the way). Valparaíso vies for the title of king of the cueca. (See Choro el Piernal de la Cueca Chora, and while you’re at it, go ahead and take a look at September-style cuecas at Chile’s Fiestas Patrias: Fondas for September).

Buddy Richard: Chilean singer-song-writer and early pop star Ricardo Roberto Toro Lavín created his stage name by from Buddy Holly and the “Englishification” of his given name Ricardo. Born in 1943, his heyday was in the 1960s and early 1970s, but as this sign shows, still performs on a pretty regular basis.

So how’d you do? Did you know the inside tips to Chile?

Valparaíso by Trolley

What’s summer without a bit of travel, exploration, fun, and tourism? “Valparaíso en un Trolley” dishes out a bit of all that and more. Theater troupe Teatro de la Historia fills the seats of a 1950s-era green and yellow “trolebus” and rolls out on a tour that takes delightful jabs at the city’s characters while simultaneously conveying pride in this one-of-a-kind city.

Valparaíso, Chile’s response to Lisbon and San Francisco, has a mystique all its own. While the famous century-old ascensores–funicular cars (oddly called elevators) save residents, tourists, and even local dogs the huffing and puffing of getting to the funky residential top of its many hills, those who need to get around old town in the lower part of the city—the business district, the port, the market, the principal plazas, and sailor central, may choose to do so via old-time electric trolley cars.

Aspiring "tourism scientist" Filomena finishes her internship on the trolley

Valparaíso en un Trolley pays playful homage to the city’s history, culture, and characters— self-absorbed authorities and social dilettantes, sailors who come and go, the women left behind, the shadier side of the old port, team pride (Go Santiago Wanderers!), night life, local music, pituco high-brow and flaite, young and old.

Bag-snatching "pirate" in front of the Iglesia de la Matriz, Valparaíso's oldest church, founded in 1559

Members of Manona Orquesta in the Port (yes, that's a donkey in the background!)

Returning sailor facing the wrath of one of his many "women in every port"

Having a handle on Chilean Spanish would definitely be helpful for getting the full effect of the show (¿cachái?), but even if you don’t speak Chilensis (the Glossary is a good place to test your ability) the action is fast paced and physical-visual enough that all are sure to have a great time. A delightful way to pass a couple hours on a Friday or Saturday evening during January and February.

Manona Orquesta in Tertulia Bar (Esmeralda 1083, Valpo)

Passengers on the trolley

Dates: Fridays & Saturdays in January & February, 2010
Time: 7:00 PM
Price: $10,000 / person (includes sandwich,  drink & entertainment at Tertulia Bar)
Language: Colloquial Chilean Spanish (chilensis)
Reservations: 9-8-487-2958
Meeting Point: Trolley Station, Av. Argentina & Chacabuco, Valparaíso

More info: www.valparaisoenuntrolley.blogspot.com

For more on Chilean trolleys, in continuous operation in Valparaíso since 1952, see: Trolebuses de Chile

San Lunes: Chile’s Stormy Monday

Manolo didn’t show up for work yesterday. He was honoring San Lunes, they said. It seems that Manolo is quite the pious man because he clearly takes San Lunes very seriously and spends many a Monday devoted to his patron saint…

In a country that regularly celebrates holidays in honor of Vatican-sanctioned saints and virgins, the yet-to-be canonized San Lunes (literally, Saint Monday) may be the most popular of all. There are other popular saints (see animitas), but this one in particular not only holds a special place in Chilean hearts, minds—and hangovers—he’s is also usually good for a chuckle (or cluck) depending on one’s position.

Blues singer T-Bone Walker may have said it best, They Call it Stormy Monday (take a listen!), and it’s never been anyone’s favorite day of the week. And whether your long-awaited, well-irrigated weekend begins when the eagle flies on Friday or it’s a case of “hoy canta Gardel,” sometimes it’s just too hard to roll out of bed on Monday.

Most references to San Lunes seem to date back to the beginning of the industrial revolution in Europe, when workers had just one day off per week and spent a good deal of it ‘bending the elbow and hoisting the jug,’ resulting in an abysmal outlook on life come Monday morning. A day spent in the forgiving arms of San Lunes is a surefire way of returning repentant revelers to the fold.

Time-honored ways of venerating the Patron Saint of the Hangover:

• San Lunes insists that his devotees honor him from a prone position until well after noon.
• San Lunes likes darkness. Keep the curtains closed and the blinds drawn.
• Proper veneration of San Lunes requires silence. Demand that others be respectful.
• San Lunes disdains singing, although woeful moaning is common practice among the most devout.
• This will be a day of fasting: no greasy, aromatic, or highly seasoned food shall be consumed on this day. San Lunes insists on this point and will vehemently reject any attempted edible offerings other than the blandest of foodstuffs.
• Leave a small candle burning at the end of the hall. Just the faintest light should illuminate your way as you embark upon repeated ritual journeys as you lift the lid and bow down before that most venerated white ceramic shrine.
• Unlike other saints who appreciate offerings of flowers, San Lunes prefers aspirin… be sure to indulge him with at least 2 tablets every four hours. Purists insist they be washed down with a bit of wine (the hair of the dog, so to speak), although water may be acceptable in the case of novice San Lunes devotees.

Are you a follower of San Lunes? Feel free to proselytize and leave your testimony to his miracles here.

Choro el Piernal de Cueca Chora

La Cueca is cool.
Forget the whole huaso bit and the women in the silly square dance type dresses, we’re talking la Cueca urbana, la Cueca brava… la Cueca CHORA!

Quilombo Ediciones 2009

After years of having gym class-style dancing shoved down their throats at any and every cultural event, there’s a quickly growing movement among Chileans to take back the “real” cueca. The cueca that always existed.
The cueca that the  “rotos chilenos” proudly danced in the chinganas, fondas, and ramadas where people from the city and the port went to let their hair down, swill some chicha, hoist a few pipeños, sing a bit, and dance a lot. And that dance was the cueca. A dance that can take flirting to the edge of social mores—without touching—and that when done well, eye-to-eye and with just the right whisk of the pañuelo, turn of the head, tilt of the hip, and stomp of the foot, can bring a flush to the cheeks and set the heart aflutter.

The problem is that until just recently, that spirit of the pueblo cuequero was all but lost, buried under a 1960s wave of imported rock and then appropriated (and toned down) by the military right in the 1970s-80s in an attempt to impose, instill, and imbue “true national values” with an official and state-sanctioned version that involves a manly poncho-wearing huaso patrón who flirts with and wins over a demure and oddly dressed woman called a “china”… Yeah… exactly… No wonder no one I know ever wanted anything to do with it!

La cueca chora, step by step. Illustration by Alberto Montt

But there’s been a movement of late to take back Chile. To take pride in the real Chile. To take a stand and raise the pañuelo.
¡Éjale compadre!, put those hands together chiquillos, clap-clap, clap-clap, and tiki tiki tiki…
Get a guitar, a pandero (tambourine), and a voice and you’re good to go.
Find an accordion and there are definitely some hot times ahead. And there you are…. The cueca is hot and Chile is cool! ¡Chile es choro and la cueca es más chora aún !

Okay, so there’s a lot more to be said about how I feel about Chile in general and the cueca in particular… but all this has been a long-winded wind-up to the real topic of this post, a new book on how to dance the cueca chora.

Editor Camila Rojas (left), author Araucaria Rojas (right) © MSnook 2009

Araucaria Rojas, daughter of the Gran Guaripola himself Dióscoro Rojas (drawing a blank? You’ve got homework: go study up at the Guachacas web site) and who is now finishing up a degree in history, just launched her book “Piernal de Cueca Chora” a guide to everything you need to hold your own amongst the choros, from the color of your pañuelo to just how high to hike your skirt.  ‘Piernal,’ in case you’re wondering, is one of those words invented by necessity because a ‘manual’ refers to something done with the hands, but in this case it’s the legs (piernas) following all the steps that are so explicitly described in words and images (illustrator Alberto Montt of “Dosis Diario” fame weighs in with his signature style). Cousin Camila Rojas edited the book for her newly-formed publishing company Quilombo Ediciones and came up with some pretty clever touches like resolving the twisted spine problem (English books write the title down one side of the spine and Spanish books, the other) by wrapping the book—along with a nifty stamped pañuelo—in a box that allowed her to print the spine in both directions! (¡Bien hecho Camila!).

Chilean journalist /Guachaca Queen Mónica Pérez

The Santiago launch was held last night (Sept 1) at the 100% chileno bar Piojera (could there ever have been any other option?) with a dedication by the paternal Guaripola and the reigning royal Guachacas Queen Mónica Pérez and King Ricarte Soto, among others, followed by a few patitas de cueca, and a healthy round of terremotos and pichanga. Be sure to check out Eileen’s  bearshapedsphere version of the evening—she can even show you food & drink pictures because by that time I was much too busy sipping and munching to take pictures. An excellent way to kick of this month of fiestas a la chilena!

Araucaria and Dióscoro Rojas dancing cueca

Araucaria and Dióscoro Rojas (© MSnook 2009)