First Impressions of Santiago Chile-18 years on

What do Colo Colo, animitas, confetti, and Ninja turtles have in common? They all form part of my earliest impressions of Chile.

It’s been 18 years already. Sí po, as we say here in Chile. I first set foot on Chilean terra firma on June 6, 1991, 18 years ago today. I didn’t know a soul or have a clue about what I was getting into, but I had enrolled in a 6-week intensive language program at the Instituto Chileno Norte Americano, had a hotel address in my pocket, and a couple years of high school Spanish under my belt. And ganas—a great desire—to know this new country.

I flew in on Ladeco, a Chilean airline that has since merged with LAN Chile, and at some point during the night the pilot’s voice crackled “grbledy-grabldys colocolobrbldysgmp,” which was immediately followed by loud cheering, whistling, and celebratory applause throughout the cabin. ¿Huh? What was that about Coca Cola? Were they offering a free six-pack upon landing?… Clueless! As I would come to understand over the coming days, the Chilean soccer fútbol team Colo Colo had just won the Copa Libertadores tournament, which is (still) a very big deal… As it turns out, knowing this and remembering the exact date is one of those little tidbits that this gringa can proudly trot out at appropriate moments to win friends and influence Chileans…

Chilean Solidarity:
Chileans like to talk up their solidarity, and even before I left the airport I did, in fact, have proof of such—along with a warning to be more careful in the future. The bus into the city cost $500 pesos. I had traded in my US bucks for Chilean lucas and admired my newly acquired assortment of colorful pesos and oddly shaped coins. I’ve always loved that money from other countries is so much more interesting than that I grew up with; esthetically speaking, US currency, for all its worth (or not), is pretty boring. I sifted through the wrinkly wad of bills that came in blue, green, and two shades of pink and handed a pink one over to a bemused but kindly gentleman behind a glass window. He held up his spread-fingered hand to stop me. He showed me two different bills and pointed to one and very slowly over-pronounced: “kee—nee—EN—tos” and then another saying “sin—ko—MIL.” Don’t speak Spanish? I realized that apparently I didn’t either… I had not noticed that one pink note had an extra zero and he knew it. He could have pocketed the $4,500-peso difference and I would have been none the wiser. (As an aside, the $500-peso note has since been replaced by a bi-metal coin, although pink remains a popular color for paper money because the newish $2000 bill is also pink as is the $5000 note. Hmmm, I wonder who decides such things as the color of money?)
Incidentally, a few days later I would learn that not everyone was quite as solidario—or as honest—as the airport guy when a cab driver tried to “take me for a ride.” He took the proverbial scenic route and planned to charge me about ten times more than he should have, but fortunately the person waiting for me caught on, set him straight, whipped a $1000-peso note out of my hand and into his, scolding “that’s all you get.” (Phew! Saved again!)

Animitas
Leaving the airport, I took a window seat on the bus, eager to soak in as much as I could as soon as I could. Shortly after we pulled out onto the main road, I spotted an odd little blue structure on the curb that looked like a cement dog house with a candle burning inside. I’d never seen anything like it. It turned out to be the first of the many, many animitas that I would see every day in Chile and the beginning of a lifelong fascination with these little shrines that mark the place where someone has died tragically. Popular belief holds that something of the person’s soul remains on that spot, and people pray to them, ask for favors, and return with flowers, candles, plaques, and a wide assortment of other gifts to give thanks for favors granted.
(See a previous post on Animitas).

Fútbol Madness:
As I settled into my hotel room in some long forgotten part of downtown Santiago, I flipped on the “teli” to start tuning my ear and try to discover a bit more about the country and culture. And did I ever. Every single channel was showing soccer fútbol … not just a news blip, not sports in general, but full-blown fútbol, fútbol, fútbol on every channel all day long!

I went out to explore. There was confetti everywhere—it looked like New Year’s in June. And troops of cheering, chanting school kids paraded two-by-two behind their teachers toting school banners, waving Chilean flags, and tossing more confetti they had made themselves. Obviously this fútbol business was one very big deal, and these Colo Colo guys had just become national heroes. It was not long afterward that I began to hear (repeatedly) that Chile had come in 3rd in the 1962 World Cup… (That’s part of the standard information package for all newcomers—ya gotta love a country that celebrates 3rd place for 45 years!)

Ninja Turtles a la Chilena

I’m not sure what I really expected to find in Santiago, but never in my wildest dreams were there any Ninja Turtles involved, so imagine my surprise at coming half way around the world to find a Pizza Hut with larger-than-life Ninjas at the door! MacDonald’s had yet to appear, but Kentucky’s favorite colonel’s famous red and white shack was popular, although it could hardly compete with big green turtles! (For the record, I am talking about the Teenage Mutant variety of Ninja Turtles, and not Chilean carabineros (police) in riot gear–who do look very much the same!)

Other Random Flashbacks:

Gorgeous dark-haired, green-eyed guys, Spanish-speaking redheads, business men in suits and ties eating ice cream cones at 10AM, groups of women wearing identical suits who  turned out to be office workers in classy uniforms, the lack of fat people on the subway, the contradiction of seeing palm trees against a backdrop of the snow-topped Andes Mountains, passengers hanging off the sides of the buses whizzing by at rush hour, student-types trying to sell foreigners their poems printed on little pieces of paper…

When I let my memory roll back to those early days… there were so many surprises, so many things that caught my attention and piqued my interest…
I had found in Chile a constant source of amazement.
I wondered about everything. I wanted to know everything… and still do today, 18 years later.

How about you? Do you have stories about your first impressions in Chile? Leave a comment or write a post and we’ll link them here!

Here’s what others have to say about their first impressions:

Clare at Clare Says:  First Impressions (of Chile) (arrived in Rancagua, 1996)

Vicki at Futalandia:   Chile September 2006- First Impressions (Santiago and Chile’s  deep south, 2006)

Lydia at Just Smile and Nod: First Impressions of Chile (Santiago and Valparaíso)

Abby at Abby’s Line: Thoughts on my First Day in Chile (Santiago, January 2007)

Eileen at bearshapedsphere: Pucha I don’t speak Cellphone! (Santiago, April 2004)

Emily at Don’t Call Me Gringa: First Impressions (arrived in Santiago, June 2005)

Sara at La Gringuita Diaries: First Impressions of Chile (August 2006, Concepción)

Emily at Chilemily: First Impressions (July 2001, Viña & Copiapó)

Amanda at Still Life in South America: First Impressions (December 2008, Santiago)

Renée  at Patas Arribe: First Impressions (February 2008, Santiago)

Kyle at Kyle Hepp: My First Impressions (1997, Santiago)

Eileen Shea: The Funniest Gringa in Chile (early 1980s, Santiago)

Animitas: Chile’s popular saints

Animitas have fascinated me since the day I first arrived in Santiago…

Para español, usa la herramienta de traducción o ver el resumen abajo…

As I left the Santiago airport on my very first visit back in 1991, I was intrigued by a small structure I saw along the side of the road. It was house-shaped and made of cement, painted light blue and had candles burning inside. By the time I reached downtown Santiago, I had seen several.

It turns out that I had seen my first of many–perhaps thousands–if small shrines called “animitas” that are found throughout Chile. They mark the place where someone has died tragically, and so are commonly found along highways, railroad lines, and cliffs overlooking the ocean, etc. , but can also mark the place of a murder. The popular belief is that a part of the person’s soul remains at the site and is bound to do favors for the living. People ask for help and make a “manda” or promise to do something in return. These favors commonly include burning candles on specific days of the week, leaving flowers, tending the site, hanging plaques of thanks, and even leaving tokens of their appreciation.

Some become quite famous for their miraculous powers. They are known by the name of the person they honor, although the stories behind them tend to become blurred and often take on rather legendary characteristics.

Animita Romualdito, Estación Central, MST 2008

Romualdito, on San Borja around the corner from the Estación Central is a long wall that is blackened from generations of candle soot. Shrine after shrine have been erected by its different devotees. It is said to honor a young man named Romualdo Ibánez who was attacked and left to die on the spot long ago. Candles began to appear, favors began to be granted, and today the long wall is covered with plaques giving thanks, rosaries, stuffed animals, crutches no longer needed, and all sorts of tributes to the powers of faith.

Marianita, beside the playground in the Parque O’Higgins, is a gruesome reminder of human cruelty. The little girl was killed by her jealous stepfather beneath a tree in 1945. Today the enormous tree is surrounded by an elaborate shrine where people go to ask for favors, especially for children. The tree is now draped with toys, dresses, dolls, and all sorts of offerings that a little girl would appreciate. A small shack stands beside the shrine where a voluntary caretaker sits when he comes to clean up and change the flowers each week. He says that his family is very devoted to Marianita and that he inherited the responsibility from his mother.

For a great gallery of animita shots by Patricio Valenzuela Hohmann, see SouthCone Photographers “Death by the Road.”

Do you have a story about or experience with animitas? Please let us know!

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• EN ESPAÑOL

Las animitas existen a lo largo de todo Chile. Son unas ermitas en miniatura que los familiares colocan en el lugar donde murió un ser querido. Es muy frecuente verlas en las carreteras y autopistas, así como en quebradas frente al mar. Dice la tradición que el alma del desaparecido permanece en el lugar para hacerle favores a los vivos. Por eso suelen tener velas y flores en su interior y en algunos casos, carteles de agradecimiento al difunto por las “mandas”. Las mandas se ofrecen para pedir ayuda y consisten en el compromiso de hacer algo en agradecimiento por el favor concedido.

Algunas animitas se han ido haciendo famosas por sus milagros, generando devoción entre la gente. Hoy en día se pueden ver llenas de placas y ofrendas de agradecimiento,

¿Conoces alguna historia o alguna experiencia sobre las animitas? ¡Cuéntanosla!