chilean cold

as we all know, i should have started this blog thing a long time ago... that being said i am going to periodically post things i've written in the past but not had the forum on which to share. as we struggle through the third month of crazy chilean winter, this one seems unfortunately appropriate. was written last year during my time with voluntarios de la esperanza in Santiago:

Sometimes I sit in my Chilean room with my Chilean bed and my Chilean blankets and I feel like I might die it’s so cold. There is no such thing as Chilean central heating. Chilean hot water is not a given, even the barrios altos. After my going to El Bosquecito campamento for the first time with Marcelo and Matilde that day in June, the Chilean cold I feel is different. I don’t know how to explain it, even though I know it’s very simple. After being in Maria and Sandra’s house, seeing it’s small room and makeshift kitchen, both created by “walls” full of holes and barely standing up and knowing that the “second floor” was probably a pile of disintegrating mattresses and blankets chewed through by who-knows-what, I am colder every time I sit in my bed with my nice new down comforter and three pillows. I am colder because I think of my girls. I think of them curled in little balls trying to keep warm and wonder how they fall and stay asleep while shivering so much. I think of them when it is not only cold but raining and I can’t keep images of their whole “house” filling with water, not only cold water but water that will later contribute to the further disintegration of their few belongings, out of my head. I think to myself, “how can they do it?” And for the very fact that I think that, I feel colder.