The great escape

Six months on and Chile has begun to seem like somewhere which never really existed. Incredible how time can heal... Back in June I was manically preparing and counting the days until we returned to some semblance of a normal life... It was strange, saying goodbye and in fact hard for the children although they have the good fortune of being young enough to live in the present and dwell little on the past. We spent the summer months decompressing in the reassuring familiarity of the children's grandparents' comfortable house before setting up our new home and new life in the semi-rural setting we once aimed for before, swapping the majestic but untamed Andes for the humbler, infinitely cosier Chilterns... As the girls and I stood on the pavement outside our still strangely new-feeling home, the dust-covered container which had travelled overseas all the way from Santiago via Valparaiso and ending up at the port of Tilbury before journeying by road to our new abode, heavy with all our worldly goods, felt like an old friend and looked a little how I felt myself ie battered, tired but somehow resilient... It was a sight that will stay with me for a long time and definitely symbolised a moment in our lives.
That was four months ago. The girls have now all but finished their first term at their British state primary school and have literally loved every minute. Even I have taken the first tentative steps at a return to some worthwhile working activity and am full of the joys of making my contribution to the world outside my wonderful but limited existence as wife, mother, homemaker... Things feel right. Schools are such stimulating, modern and exciting places to be here. Healthcare is available and free for all, a concept which people take for granted sometimes, not realising that the rest of the world is far from where we are as regards well-developed civilisation and basic human rights. It is cold in December and the days are short, all adding to the authenticity of a proper Christmas this year. My friends and family are around and nearby as we are to them, no longer isolated by continents and hemispheres not to mention seasons and timezones. I wake up every morning absolutely delighted to be here, back where we belong...
What do I miss about Chile? The weather has to be in top position. Incredibly mild and short winters, long, warm summers and always comfortable conditions for sleeping and so forth... Plus the sun, its light and its warmth. Never having to use a tumbledrier nor even attempt to dry clothes indoors. The ubiquity and abundance of avocados. Wonderful Sauvignon Blanc at very reasonable prices. But things I can actually live without... if I like. Chile was an adventure in every sense of the word but also very hard work at times. As for the girls, they still recall their school/nursery, friends and teachers, but are swiftly forgetting it all too which is a shame. Every now and then one of them remembers something and we all laugh, a little incredulously at times, did that really happen and were we really there? Does that world really exist or was it an elaborate dream, just like Dorothy had in the Wizard of Oz? There's no place like home...

Full circle

Last week marked the end of term for DD1 hence a parent-teacher "conference" was scheduled. Her teacher was very direct and clearly didn't want to waste any time chatting but all was reported to be well much as had been expected. I still don't feel particularly aware of what goes on at school other than that all parties seem content with the status quo. In spite of the school's gloomy anachronistic ambience, DD1 has in fact been very happy, forming solid friendships and learning to read and write during her time there which is more than enough to satisfy me at this stage. She has also acquired Chilean Spanish in the most natural way possible as well as considerable cultural knowledge, numeracy skills and managed to lug an incredibly heavy rucksack to and from school every day... She may well be trailing behind in English spelling and writing but by way of compensation has learnt joined-up handwriting, loops and all. It's not quite what you'd get in a sub-standard state school in the UK (according to The Economist) but she's still young enough to catch up and the experience of living in South America for two years is probably a fair swap for anything she may have missed out on back in the twenty-first century...

Much the same can be said for DD2. Often she has lamented the fact that she goes to a Spanish-speaking nursery and not an English-speaking one, choosing to remain "as quiet as a mouse" for as long as possible while slowly but surely absorbing everything around her... She has gained an extraordinary level of confidence linguistically and culturally as well as producing enough artistic creations to sink the Titanic. Not to mention her experience of presenting to the class (this week it's seashells)... It's probably been very different to nursery in the UK but at her age being with other children and having fun are all that counts. The fact that she can also recite poems in Spanish, dance the tango and knows all about the glories of Chilean history are of course all a bonus...
As for me, I've learnt Spanish too, albeit not as well nor as naturally but I have had a good go, aided mainly by my very patient and eternally encouraging teacher. Not sure what else I have achieved apart from visiting some beautiful and far-flung places, surviving in an alien culture and always feeling like something wasn't quite right... Now my days as ama de casa are well and truly numbered as we prepare for our impending return to the UK. To use an analogy my children might understand, I feel a little like Jo in the Magic Faraway Tree, who visits the land of Topsy-Turvy and ends up walking upside down on his hands while his friends remain the right way up. After spending a while like this he eventually gets a reprieve and is allowed to return the right way up again, vowing to himself that he has in fact had enough exciting adventures and will not be visiting any more of the fascinating but unpredictable lands at the top of the Faraway Tree, however tempting they may seem...

Stand by your man

One month of the holidays left until school reopens and we aren't actually doing too badly. The girls are enjoying the long epicurean days and it must be said so am I. I am pleasantly surprised at how well they are playing together although plenty of fighting goes on too...often about toys or dolls' clothes. It's definitely been a bonding period as Santiago slows down and empties for the summer while school and nursery seem like a distant memory.
Last week we were invited to DH's department's end-of-year party, an event held in the university grounds for academic staff and students alike-- plus entourage such as ourselves. The students had gone to a great deal of trouble, not just by setting up and decorating stalls and even a barbecue serving choripan (sausage in a bread roll) and anticuchos (brochettes) amongst other delights but also by erecting a sophisticated sound system with amplifiers and at least two lap-tops providing the soundtrack of non-stop music tailored for a range of tastes and age-groups. Spirits were high, wine and beer flowed and the atmosphere was generally good despite some minor scuffles marring the end. The children amused themselves, especially by exploring the grounds while some of us indulged in some uninterrupted adult conversation. Inevitably I was asked about how I had settled in to life in Chile, what my impressions were and whether or not I was working at the moment...probably about a dozen times. Needless to say my answers became more expansive and less guarded as the Sauvignon Blanc went down...
Which brings me on to an issue I have been wanting to address for a while but haven't yet found the right moment, namely that of the Trailing Spouse. At first it was a novelty and of course a privilege, not to have to work and following one's husband around the world while also busily taking care of domestic matters and the lion's share of the childcare. Isn't that what all women did once, I wonder to myself, and many still do even in our so-called most developed cultures, at least for a few years while the children are small. Not so in Chile, where I and others like me are the exception and very much the minority. I hardly ever see Chilean mothers with their children here during the day apart from at weekends; usually families employ the ubiquitous and strictly apron-clad figure of the Nana, a robust all-encompassing home-help whose tasks may comprise anything within the home but also include looking after their patrons' children. I suppose their "mistresses" haven't had to up sticks and move to the other side of the world but still it's food for thought as I am surrounded by an army of apron-wearing women in parks, around the pool and in the communal gardens, some of whom I can't help feeling probably don't care much for the spoilt brat(s) in their charge but who will put up with anything for 10,000 Chilean pesos (approximately US$20) for an entire day's work... As for us Trailing Spouses, we do feel a bit isolated at times but of course have to look at the positives such as travelling to a new country/continent/hemisphere, learning a new language, spending time with one's children and thinking about going back to work...