We're here, we're queer

We spent the first three weeks of our year abroad as wasters whilst the others were settling into their full-time jobs, which was pretty great. We saw some cool stuff, became well acquainted with Piscos and Terremotos (if an alcoholic beverage literally translates to ‘earthquake’ you know it won’t end well), and got pretty damn good at lying around the flat eating Chilean chocolate bars (THEY COST 15P. LET THAT SINK IN) while watching thrilling daytime sitcoms with their high quality acting: highlights include ‘my mother-in-law hates me’ and the chef who dreams of being a famous singer.

When the time finally came to start our studies at the Pontificia Universidad Católica we were of course totally unprepared. At this point Chilean Spanish was still about as familiar to us as Japanese (smiling and nodding blankly is a daily occurrence), so turning up to a lecture as the only exchange students filled us with unspeakable fear and distress. We awkwardly introduced ourselves to the class as the new kids we were, telling them all our ‘fun facts’ about ourselves; there's nothing fun about the social anxiety induced from pressuring us into making a class full of Chileans laugh with our quirky anecdotes. We were certain that our broken Spanish had lost all chances of finding a group for the dreaded upcoming coursework project.

However, turns out being the only pasty white girls in a class full of Chilean guys will get you far in life no matter how useless you are. At the end of the class before we’d even left our seats, we were approached and propositioned for a group with two eager and opportunistic males. You can’t argue with their hospitality and openness to exchange students but they’re gonna regret that one.

Casa Central, the main PUC campus

San Joaquín Campus

San Joaquín Campus

Unfortunately, there’s just no avoiding sticking out like a sore thumb. The students applauded us enthusiastically while we paraded around as a line of foreigners on a tour of the campus (the tour guide had a flag and everything). Likewise, Tinder is absolutely going off. Shout out to our boy Esteban:

*Swipes right*

A tribute to Miercoles Po: For any exchange students starting a new semester in Santiago, it's the quintessential first night-out. For any Chileans it is a mockery and to be avoided at all costs, unless your plan is to chirpse on the exchange students. Entry was free for foreign girls, 5000 pesos for foreign guys, and if you’re a local it’ll cost you your life savings plus probably your own mother. The drinks are expensive, the music is poor, but each week it moves around different locations in the city and attracts thousands to its questionable carretes. Mostly we just enjoyed tweeting socially unacceptable messages to be displayed on the big screen. 

The place of dreams

We promise we'll write a culturally informative post soon like we're supposed to. Until then, here’s a nice Chilean man on the metro: