Matador Network's Blog, page 2183

When you date a Chilean guy

Photo: Cristian Labarca

1. You’ll become immune to, and willingly participate in, PDAs.

You used to roll your eyes when you came across a couple canoodling in public. Since you started dating your Chilean boyfriend, your gringa fría (cold foreigner) ways have melted, and you’ve conformed to the ways of the Latin lover. You’ve even warmed up to the previously appalling nose-to-nose nuzzle, and now you’re certain there’s no going back.

2. You’ll learn how to dance like a chicken in heat.

Chile’s national dance is the cueca, which essentially represents a rooster courting a chicken. There are different types of cueca — the most aggressive form consists of the man dance-chasing his female partner in a circle with hops, twirls, and fancy footwork thrown in for good measure. If you attend any party or festival with your pololo (boyfriend) on any national holiday (or any pisco-filled asado year-round) chances are high you’ll be dancing the cueca.

3. You’ll think you’re an amazing chef.

Chileans often live at home until they’re well into their twenties and potentially until they’re married. This means they never have to go through the trials and errors of dorm-room cooking or the struggles of learning to feed themselves more than ramen post-college. As women still typically do the family cooking, Chilean men in particular might never learn how to cook, so even if all you can whip up is a cheese omelet, your Chilean boyfriend will be amazed.

4. You’ll become a victim of many, many earthquakes.

The terremoto (earthquake) is a popular Chilean cocktail combining white wine or pipeño, grenadine, and pineapple ice cream. While the appropriate serving size for terremotos is probably one drink, your pololo is a terremoto-making machine, and at house parties he’ll dutifully make sure you never see the bottom of your glass. Just like in a real earthquake, the sensation will hit you suddenly, you’ll be grasping for the walls, and you’ll probably wake up on the floor with a killer caña (hangover) and a lampshade on your head.

5. You’ll learn the art of the cheap date.

Most jobs in Chile don’t pay that well. Neither you nor your pololo will have much money to spend on each other, so you’ll have to get creative when it comes to pololeando (dating). Dinner and a movie or a night out on the town might not always be on the agenda, so you two will design dates that are a bit more piola (chill): going for long walks, hanging out at home, or even trolling a mall — a favorite Chilean pastime.

6. You’ll know enough Chilean music to start your own tribute band.

With many long nights spent at your pololo‘s side singing karaoke to Los Prisioneros, Los Tres, and Los Jaivas, you’ll easily know enough Chilean music to start your own tribute band.

7. You’ll realize you’re a slob.

Perhaps it stems from a deep-seated fear of the araña del rincón (deadly spiders native to Chile that dwell in the untouched corners of one’s house), but Chileans are generally very tidy. Everything in your pololo‘s room is always in its proper place, his clothes are hung and folded neatly, and he makes a mean bed. You, on the other hand, haven’t seen the surface of your desk in weeks, half of your bed doubles as your closet, and the last time you cleaned your floor was really just the last time you spilled juice on it.

8. You’ll build up your party stamina.

Being nightlife intolerant just doesn’t fly in Chile. The Chileans like to carretear (party) until the sun comes up, and your pololo‘s natural stamina far exceeds your own. To avoid looking like a party pooper, or muy fome (very lame), you’ll need to boost your endurance for a night of carreteando.

9. You’ll fail as a cultural ambassador.

Chileans are proud yet sensitive people and are curious about and competitive with other cultures. Your Chilean boyfriend and his friends will count on you for information about your home country, and you’re an unreliable source of information. “What’s the national dance of the United States?” You’ll teach them the Cotton-Eyed Joe and the Electric Slide. “What’s the typical cuisine like?” We eat lots of Italian takeout. “How is American football played?” You’ve never understood it yourself. You’ll tell tales of a magical place called Target, bake chocolate-chip cookies, play YouTube videos of The Lonely Island, and probably exert a great deal of effort to distance yourself from comparisons to Miley Cyrus.

10. You’ll learn to set your watch to Chilean time.

When your pololo says he’s on his way, you’ll learn it means he’ll leave in an hour.

11. You’ll learn a million different ways to say one simple thing.

Chileans speak their own language made up of slang, profanities, and animal-related idioms. Even if you speak Spanish with near fluency, you’ll often be left staring at your Chilean boyfriend and wishing subtitles would magically appear under his face. “I’m tired” is no longer simply, “Tengo sueño” or, “Estoy cansado” but also, “Tengo tuto” and, “Se me echó la yegua” (which means “the horse kicked me”). If your pololo has to use the bathroom, he’ll probably tell you he’s going to write his memoirs or study nuclear physics. This means he’ll be a while.

12. You’ll become a spoiled regalona.

Chileans don’t just cuddle, they regalonear, which is like super cuddling that pervades your everyday activities. Chilean guys will ruin you for non-Chilean guys as they’ll spoil you with unwavering affection, random acts of sweetness, and constant cariños.

You've become culturally Argentine

Photo: Gabriel Louback

1. In any WTF situation, your thumb, index, and middle finger automatically unite and rise.

2. In any food situation, your hand and the salt shaker automatically meet.

3. In any drinking situation, you ensure your glass chinks every single glass in the room, AND you do that annoying eye-contact thing.

4. You no longer think fernet tastes like de-icer.

5. You’re never sure how to greet non-Argentines of the same sex and inevitably use too much bodily contact.

6. You understand that beeping the horn nonstop is an integral part of any driving experience.

7. You no longer think Día del Amigo is on par with Valentine’s Day for stupid pointless commercialism.

8. You actually tell your mom and dad that you love them. Seriously.

9. You have no problem with drinking Quilmes.

10. You’re suspicious of policemen, even if they’re the same color as you.

11. If a woman, you ignore football entirely for three years and 11 months and then get extremely shouty and screamy for four weeks and annoy the shit out of everyone.

12. It no longer phases you to start making dinner at 11pm.

13. You consider punctuality an Anglo-Saxon absurdity.

Hikers discover firearm booby trap

Photo: Russ Seidel

EVERYONE KNOWS THAT PORTLAND’S WEIRD and I am a partisan of keeping it that way, but this is going a little too far.

When going for a hike in Forest Park with Rhoda, the family dog, Mike and Jennifer Colbach escaped serious injury when they stumbled upon a makeshift firearm booby trap.

A cord was running across the trail, ready to trip any unsuspecting hiker and set off an improvised firearm attached to a tree in the bush along the trail. Luckily for everyone, after inspection of the device by the bomb squad, it was confirmed that the weapon had malfunctioned when the dog stepped on the parachute cord trigger.

No one was hurt, but the Colbachs have been spooked (who can blame them?) and will not be walking the trails of Portland’s Forest Park anytime soon.

An investigation is underway, but until the people responsible for this macabre joke are arrested, you’d better watch your

step.

Why we Israelis travel in packs

Photo: Achi Raz

That noisy group sitting around the table, sharing a home-cooked meal and speaking something that sounds like guttural French? Yup, probably Israelis. If you get to know them, they’ll usually break down to twos or threes, but it’s not unusual to see 10 or 15 Israelis hanging out together, at just about any decent travel destination. It’s not an organized tour, it just happens. So why?

We’re all one big, happy family.

Not really. But by the age of three-to-six months, the average Israeli baby is in gun (that’s daycare, not an Uzi) until age five, when they enter the school system. After approximately 12 years of sometimes-questionable peer relation building comes the pièce de résistance: military service. That’s another three years (two for women) of intense bonding through shared physical and mental challenges — brothers and sisters in arms, literally. By the time they set off to travel, being together in groups is just…normal.

It’s nice to be with people who ‘get it.’

The Israeli-Arab conflict must be the most-publicized, least-understood issue in world politics. It engenders everything from apathy to rage. People who have no connection to or clear understanding of the situation will take to the streets to demonstrate on one side or the other (well, usually one side). It’s hard to say which is more tiring — the well-meaning “What is going on over there, anyway?” usually followed by about 30 seconds of vague interest in the reply, or the more aggressive “How can you guys be so awful to those poor people?” from someone who has already decided on the answer before asking the question. A healthy debate is always welcome, but that involves a level of knowledge and understanding that most people just don’t have — though it would be great if they did.

It’s a matter of trust.

This is a bit of a paradox because inside Israel people relate to each other much like they do in most countries — they lock their doors, car alarms are ubiquitous, and the used-car salesman is guaranteed to be a wannabe con-man. But outside of Israel, the only person an Israeli can really trust is another Israeli. He will think nothing of leaving his cell phone on the table (of Israelis) while he goes to dance. Sharing a room, joining a group going anywhere, even lending money is no question. It sounds naïve, but it works.

It’s the siege mentality, or is it safety in numbers?

Israelis grow up in a small world, surrounded by enemies. Contrary to its ‘size’ in international headlines, the country is actually quite tiny — 20,700 km2 (about the size of New Jersey) with a population of just over 8 million, 75% of which are Jews. Luckily, the climate is varied for its size and the sites are world-class, but Israelis can’t ‘get out’ much. Our neighbors hate us — some to the point of wanting to wipe Israel off the map.

Of course, we can and do fly to countries that are more hospitable and welcoming, though there is never a guarantee that you won’t run into an impromptu anti-Israel demonstration or swastika-tattooed skinhead anywhere in this world. Just when you think you’ve really connected with the abuela frying empanadas in the middle of nowhere Peru, she realizes that you killed Jesus…and it’s all over. Nothing brings people together like being hated and threatened, and when you grow up with that, it just stays with you.

The ‘mainstream’ in Israel has a really strong current.

Maybe it’s because the country is small and kind of isolated, but people tend to go with the flow. That is not to say that Israelis don’t think for themselves…as the saying goes, “Put 10 Israelis in a room and you’ll have 11 opinions.” But let’s face it, we all drink the same coffee! When it comes to food choices, activities, attitude, we tend to have a lot in common. Doesn’t everyone want to be with people just like them?

We’re in good company.

Israelis, especially the traveling ones, are fun! They tend to be adventurous, down to earth, resourceful, intelligent, and curious travelers. They aren’t the nicest people you’ll meet — politeness isn’t really a thing in Israel, but get to know them and you’ll find a warm, trustworthy, entertaining bunch of people.

The truth is, they aren’t all in groups. Quite a few Israelis travel alone, often to more-adventurous destinations. In fact, I would argue that the best ones are traveling alone…but I’m biased.

5 challenges when moving off grid

Photo: dawolf-

The central encompassing theme of off-grid life is autonomy. You’re living in a completely self-sustaining habitat that isn’t dependent on any public utilities. Meaning you either do not have electricity, running water, or sewage; or you harness all of these resources independently by using alternative forms of energy — solar, wind, geothermal, micro-hydro. For example, you might not have electricity but you have a fridge that runs on propane. You might not have running water but you have a generator that powers a pump from a well.

There are lots of different ways you can self-sustain and still have access to the luxuries of modern life. However, all of these systems take time and money. Most people who choose to live off-grid go without until it’s feasible for them to put some systems in place. My experience is currently at this beginning stage. I’m going without. My partner and I live as if we were constantly camping inside. We have shelter, a wood cook stove, a cooler, and a quilt.

I don’t think anyone can argue with me on this — living off-the-grid is badass. I won’t lie, that was the main reason I decided to make the jump. But let me tell you, it is difficult.

1. Most people are going to try and change your mind.

When you decide to move off-grid you are making a very brave decision. When you decide to actually tell people about it, you are being even braver. It’s not a mainstream idea. You’re not going to be close to the mall or an acceptable fast-food chain with a drive-thru. Most people will think you are downright wacky. Some might even say you’re “being irresponsible.”

I’m a bartender, so you can imagine I spoke with a few people about my decision to move before I actually did it. It did not take long for me to realize that the general public did not support my decision to live independently. And they were not shy in telling me so. Many people brushed it off as too “romantic,” “whimsical,” one particularly outspoken Republican gentleman in an ill-fitting flannel shirt and Abraham Lincoln beard told me living off-grid today was “not possible.” I’ll also never forget the retired lawyer who absolutely man-splained the shit out of the basic function of a woodstove for me.

“Heating with wood is a nice idea and all, but they’re just not worth it because you have to keep putting wood into them. Someone always has to be home to keep stoking the fire with wood, or else it won’t be warm.” A seriously revolutionary tidbit right there.

Something to understand is that people are very dependent these days on access to public utilities. Every day we depend on companies to power our coffeemakers, to keep our beer cold and our bodies warm. When you tell someone that you want to take control of these things yourself — just for the new experience — they might feel a little threatened by that.

Basically every negative opinion — whether it’s about you making a big life change or not — should be dealt with in the same way: a big F YOU.

2. You’re going to be extremely isolated.

You can live off-grid in a lot of places. Most of them are very rural. You should expect to get lonely sometimes. I currently live in a cabin in rural Maine. The closest bar is 13 miles away and it closes at 8 every night. When I moved out here, I knew I was giving my bar-hopping, miniskirt-wearing, street food-scarfing, 80s night-dancing, Sunday brunch-munching days a rest for a little while. And that’s okay because I actually don’t miss them that much.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned so far, it’s that a support system is a crucial thing to have. I’m lucky to be living off-grid with my partner, who also happens to be a very good friend of mine. So I have someone who will coach me through using our haunted outhouse at midnight, someone who will help me stack wood, and someone who apparently will make out with me. He’s a friend, a worker and a suitor all in one perfectly acceptable human specimen. But even if he’s a triple threat, one person isn’t enough.

What’s great about off-grid life is that it attracts a lot of interesting people to small, close-knit communities. These people know how to party. If you’re new in town, they’ll most likely want to get to know you and they’ll usually bring food. I’ve had people reach out from all ends of this community. More than a couple random strangers have gotten in touch with me just to say: “Hey, heard you moved here. Wanna hang out?”

To which I always reply: “Yes, for the love of fucking God. Yes. Thank you.”

3. Everyday activities are going to become more difficult than usual.

Planning is your friend. There are some questions you’re going to have to answer before you take the leap.

How are you going to refrigerate food, and more importantly beer? I use a cooler with frozen milk jugs in it. I’m able to freeze the jugs at my neighbor’s house and rotate them out. Many people purchase a propane fridge. They’re difficult to find and are pretty expensive (at least $500) but if this is a permanent life change for you, finding one might be a good idea. If you can get your hands on an old camper — something surprisingly easy to get your hands on around here — there might be an adorable little propane fridge in it.

How are you going to cook food? Campfires and camp stoves are two very obvious solutions for cooking. I depend on both of them primarily and use a wood cook stove — circa 1820 — on cold or rainy days.

How are you going to remain a clean and socially acceptable human being? This one was a big source of worry for me — showering. I do all my writing work in a very tiny public library and I bartend a couple times a week in a fairly upscale restaurant. I can’t show up with sap in my hair and ash crusted around my nostrils. I just can’t. So I solved this issue before I actually made the move.

It only took me a couple of hours to read a few blogs and peruse four different Home Depot aisles before I used a garden hose head and a few plumber’s fittings to convert a pesticide sprayer into the most luxuriously pressurized and conveniently portable shower to ever grace this soiled Earth. Whenever I need to take a shower, I heat up a small kettle of water on my camp stove, pour it in, let it cool, pump her up and boom! Almost instant cleanliness. This solution cost me less than $40 and I can get two showers out of 3.5 gallons of water. How’s that for self-sustainability?

4. Some things are going to be too difficult to do alone.

Chores. No one has told me to do my chores since my mom was cutting the crusts off of my cucumber and mayonnaise sandwiches. But since I’ve moved off-grid, chores have all of a sudden become a thing again.

Living this way takes a lot of daily work. We don’t have a well so we haul water from a neighbor’s house. We go through about three 7-liter containers every week and a half. These containers need to be hauled in a garden cart up a hilly gravel driveway, through a large field and down a heavily rooted forest path before they can arrive in our kitchen for our hydrating pleasure. This is a chore that I just cannot do by myself, partly because I cannot physically lift one full container and partly because this job requires a lot of moral support and encouragement.

When you move off-grid you need to accept that this is no time to be a hero. There are just some things you can’t do alone. If I can’t be a natural water-hauler, maybe I can be an all-star woodchopper and resident dishwasher instead. Chores cannot be neglected when you’re depending on yourself to survive. So be aware of your limits, ask for help when you need it and by all means, try not to break a rib.

5. Winter is coming.

If it’s not already here, it’s working on getting here. Do not be the grasshopper who spent the entire summer floating on an inner tub with a couple Twisted Teas in hand and a joint in his waterproof Indiana Jones hat. Plan ahead.

People who choose to live off the grid are natural ants; they’re constantly preparing and storing for winter. The primary source of heat for most people living off the grid is wood. Wood does not cut, split, and collect itself. Propane does not stay at a somewhat affordable price forever. If you want to be successful at this lifestyle you need to be constantly planning ahead and taking advantage of the resources that are available to you now. It’s no joke, when freezing temperatures come around you should expect to be hemorrhaging resources — heat, food, water. And they’re all going to require 50% more energy to access.

So yes, living off the grid is badass. Do it right.

From Staten Island? You'll hate this

Photo: Jose Manuel Gasalla

1. Tell us you’re “sorry” when we say we’re from Staten Island.

I didn’t just tell you my grandmother died. You’re not sorry, you’re condescending. Staten Islanders are proud of where they’re from. Some families have lived here for generations.

This isn’t a place that you move to because it’s sexy. It’s a place people move to in order to make a home, or to maintain the quality of life they had in Brooklyn or other parts of New York City before they became too expensive for poor or middle class New Yorkers to live in.

2. Tell us we’re not part of New York City, or that we only “semi-count.”

Seriously? What the fuck? Like Elmhurst or Marine Park is so much more cosmopolitan? There are nearly half a million people who live on Staten Island. The first Dutch settlement was established here in 1624, 20 years before there was one in Brooklyn.

In fact, Staten Island became part of New York City the same time as Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens, and the Bronx in 1898. Over 200 Staten Islanders were killed in the attacks on the World Trade Center on September 11th, but we only semi-count? Whatever.

3. Add to the traffic.

Ask a stranger if they have ever visited Staten Island and they may very well reply, “I think I drove through it once.”

To many, Staten Island is nothing more than a stringy series of highways that connect Brooklyn and the rest of Long Island to New Jersey. And all these interstate travelers and commuters mix daily with school buses and three-car households and the result is crippling traffic. So if you’re going to drive through here, at least get out of your damn car once in a while and get to know this place.

4. Ask us, “What’s that smell?”

First off, the Fresh Kills landfill — one of the few manmade objects visible from space, and Staten Island’s infamous claim to fame — has been closed for almost 15 years. And second, after it closed it was where they transported the debris from the Twin Towers so we could continue to search for the remains of our fallen fellow New Yorkers.

Now it’s being converted into one of New York City’s largest parks. So enough with the “What’s that smell?” comments already!

5. Be a tourist on the ferry.

Every regular commuter likes to think they have their own personal seat, and you are ruining their commute by sitting in their favorite chair.

We are also bemused by the tourists who flock to the west side of the ferry, nearly tipping the boat in their frenzy, to snap a picture of the Statue of Liberty while neglecting the east side of the ferry with its expansive views of the Verrazano Bridge, the Brooklyn waterfront, and Governors Island. But the worst thing you can do is just take the ferry back and forth and never give a second thought to exploring the rest of Staten Island.

6. Say there’s nothing to see or do in Staten Island.

Look, if you’ve only got 48 hours in NYC, then maybe you should use that time to knock Times Square, Central Park, the Statue of Liberty, and all the other “must see” tourist destinations off your list. But if you call yourself a New Yorker and you’ve never seen Staten Island except through the windows of a moving vehicle, well, that just sucks.

Staten Island has a vast park system which includes miles of beaches, woodlands, and salt marshes which are home to an amazing display of biodiversity including rare trees, endangered flowers, herds of deer, wild turkeys, and more.

Historic Richmond Town is a living museum complex that relives 350 years of history and culture. We have our own minor league sports team, the Staten Island Yankees, who play in an amazing waterfront ballpark. There is the Alice Austen House, a tribute to the great, early female photographer. Then there’s the Chinese Scholar’s Garden in the Snug Harbor Cultural Center, a Tibetan art museum, and even a zoo.

And yes, like everywhere else in New York City, we have great pizza and bagels, which are usually better than the generic knock-offs made in Manhattan.

7. Forget about us.

If you really want to know what pisses off a Staten Islander, you’ve got to be familiar with ‘middle child syndrome’. Yeah, we know: mommy loves Billy better. Billy gets all the good stuff and the baby gets all the attention. That’s us. The core of the Staten Island psyche is to believe we are the “forgotten borough,” because, true or not, we believe our sibling boroughs get more of everything.

So while we may have fewer bottomless brunch joints and more registered Republicans than the rest of “The City,” don’t piss us off by insinuating we’re not real New Yorkers. When the rent gets too damn high in Greenpoint and LIC, Staten Island might be one of the few places left where born and raised New Yorkers can actually afford to live.

10 signs your boyfriend is Japanese

Image by Jason Ippolito

1. His handbag matches yours.

You were probably amazed at Japanese men’s chivalry during your first few months in the country. Most of them seem to carry their girlfriend’s or wife’s handbag…at all times! Oh, wait…that’s just because it’s theirs! Just like every other Japanese man (in Tokyo at least) your boyfriend always carries his man-purse around.

2. He spends longer than you getting ready.

Most of the bottles of shampoo, conditioner, treatment, cream, hair gel, and other beauty products in the bathroom are his, and he will use every single one of them, in order, before considering himself ready to go out for dinner. However, he doesn’t mind sporting his old pajamas and flip flops, with his hair up in a whale spout, when he goes to the supermarket…

3. His razors last 20 times longer than yours.

Like most Japanese men, he can’t grow a beard. Maybe if he doesn’t shave for 3 months, he’ll have half a moustache and a hint of a goatee. On the bright side, he won’t cost much in razor blades. But that usually also means that you, the non-Asian girlfriend, are now the hairy one…

4. You now wake up to the lovely fragrance of fermented beans and rice.

Japanese people love eating natto for breakfast. Natto is a very smelly and slimy traditional food made from fermented soybeans. It’s hard to enjoy your toast and coffee when it smells like your boyfriend is eating old roadkill.

5. His “dinner with co-workers” usually means “all-night karaoke.”

First, he will not be able to refuse an invitation from a co-worker, especially if this person has been in the company for longer than him.

He will not be able to turn down the after-dinner drinks at a Japanese-style pub either, or the last hour at the karaoke before going home…well, it’ll only be an hour if no one misses their last train. In that case, camaraderie oblige, everyone has to spend the night in the cramped karaoke room and sing old J-pop tunes until dawn.

6. You will never get a kiss in public.

Many people say that French people sometimes go a little too far when showing affection in public. I mean, there isn’t even a word in the French language for “public display of affection.”

Japanese people are on the other end of the scale. Until a few decades ago, couples would not even hold hands in public. Now, they do, but don’t try to ask your boyfriend for a kiss on the train, on a bench, or at the movies if you don’t want to be rejected out of hand!

7. He won’t get you anything for Valentine’s Day.

In Japan, Valentine’s Day is a big thing. Actually, it’s maybe even bigger than in some Western countries. The problem is that it’s nothing like what you would expect in Europe or in the US. For starters, only women give presents (usually chocolate) on February 14th. And not only to their lovers, but to basically all the men around them, whether at home or in the office.

There are even words showing the difference: On the one hand you have the honmei choco or “true feeling chocolate,” the one you give to your boyfriend or husband. On the other hand, you have the giri choco which literally means “obligatory chocolate.” So you’d better make sure you don’t forget to buy sweets (or even better, bake them) on that day!

Note: girls still get presents, but a month later. On March 14th, so-called White Day is when men are supposed to return the favor!

8. He has already slept on the street and doesn’t think it’s dangerous.

Walk around Tokyo, Osaka, or other big cities in Japan at night, and you will probably come across sleeping men, usually in suits and holding their briefcases, just lying there on the pavement. Taking pictures of these “bodies” is a popular game among travelers and newcomers to the country, but it gets a little more worrying when you realize your boyfriend has been one of those men sleeping in the street at least once before, and maybe not so long ago!

The good news is that Japan is (or at least is close to being) the safest place on Earth, so most people wake up the next morning with all their belongings…the only thing they might have lost is their dignity.

9. You met his parents = you’re engaged.

You’ve been together for a few months now, and think it might be a good time to meet his parents…if you can speak Japanese or they can speak your mother tongue. Now, when you casually say that it would be a good time for a dinner with okaa-san and otou-san (mum and dad), your darling seems a bit reluctant, and starts putting it off.

You might start wondering what’s up with him. Why wouldn’t he be proud to show off how great a girlfriend you are to his parents?! The main reason is that men (and women) don’t usually introduce their partners until they think it is really serious. Many old-fashioned families still see it as a hint that you will be getting engaged soon.

10. You just moved in together = you’re getting married.

You’ve met the parents, and now you’re thinking of moving in together. Not such a big deal in Western countries — I mean, come on, even students do it! But in Japan, you’d better read the terms and conditions at the bottom of the contract, because chances are there’s a clause in small print saying, “By signing this rental agreement, I understand that my boyfriend’s parents are now planning our wedding ceremony, reception, and wondering if our kids will have Japanese or foreign names”.

11 lies you tell yourself

Photo: Bárbara Paz Rebolledo Bustamante

1. I’m gonna learn the language so I can fully immerse myself.

Until you find yourself hopelessly lost in the middle of a place like Lesbos island in Greece, trying to find your way to Sappho Square in Mytilini Town. But nobody speaks a damned word of English, and you’ll literally beg someone to point you in the right direction before you miss your bus, because so far you’ve only managed to master the greeting yassas (hello) despite having been in the country for two months already.

2. I will not get blackout drunk while alone in a foreign country.

Because that’s just an unbelievably stupid idea, and you know it. And then you find yourself making out with a Portuguese man with a funny mole on his chin, in some crowded bar in Athens, while your new hostel friends laugh and gently try to pry you away. You’ll thank them later.

3. I will embrace my aloneness.

You’ll love the solitude and general do-what-I-want attitude, until one evening you find yourself sitting at a café in a plaza in Dubrovnik, underneath the clock tower, watching friends and strangers mingle and laugh with hands clutched around white cups of cappuccino. And you’ll resist the urge to walk up to a table and say, “Hey, can I be your friend?” Because that’s actually not always a great way to make friends.

4. I will not call home crying to my parents.

Until you’re left immobilized with the world’s worst bladder infection after a week sailing the Adriatic Sea, just days before you’re supposed to fly home. And all you want to do is call Mom and have her take care of you and feed you chicken soup instead of sleeping 12-hour days in a loud hostel, in too much pain to even stand upright. Moms just have that touch.

5. I will take more time to reflect, and read, and write.

You’ll find serenity somewhere. You’ll love the gorgeous quiet of life on an olive farm, and beginning your mornings with homemade fig jam and honey from the beehives, and pruning olive trees, and working in the vineyard. And then you’ll spend evenings reading and writing, and loving every second of it, until you just want one week of letting loose and being a stupid, silly backpacking partier because, remember, NOBODY knows you here. Remember? You can take on any persona here.

6. I will stay in shape.

You’ll make a personal promise to download iPhone training apps and yoga video tutorials, and you’ll vow to hike at every possible opportunity or to take up running because it’s really the only way you can work off all those Neapolitan pizzas while travelling in Italy. But instead you tell yourself you walk everywhere while travelling anyway, so surely that must make up for being a lazy blob.

7. I will eat healthy.

You’ll keep this vow for longer than your others, until you realize eating a salad at every meal is a ridiculous notion when there’s a world of grilled meats and cheese pies and spicy curry literally outside your front door. The same goes for alcohol, or local drink specialties. One taste of that Inca Cola and you know you’ll have to drink it every day throughout the duration of your trip to Peru because you may never get to experience it again.

8. I will not fall in love.

Because it’s your time, dammit, and part of the reason you’re travelling solo is because you’re single, and you want to do this while you’re unburdened, unattached, floating free like a balloon in a small child’s hand. Until again you meet that handsome German stranger, and one week later you’re curled up in their arms like a toy poodle.

9. I will fall in love.

And then you decide maybe falling in love on the road isn’t so bad, until it’s time to part ways. And then suddenly it’s, “Holy crap, visas are really hard to figure out,” and, besides, what happens when you spend too much time together and the magic fizzles out quicker than an open bottle of diet cola?

10. I will not be afraid to put myself out there and meet new people.

In actuality, walking into a hostel bar and introducing yourself to a whole crew of new people you’ve never met before but who somehow seem to all know one another is absolutely the most terrifying, panic-inducing thing you’ve ever had to do. And you may require a tall glass of vodka beforehand.

11. I will find myself.

Yeah, you’ll find yourself. You’ll find yourself understanding that travel is quite easy, and even if you don’t make any grandiose self-discovery statements, you’re gonna have a damned good time trying to do so anyway. At least before you head back home to your corner of the universe, back inside the cube or in front of the computer, and you’ll hardly believe you’ve done so much, but the Instagrams prove you did. And then you’ll realize, “I need to do that again.” Over and over again, because travelling solo becomes the addiction, and it’s not a bad habit to have.

8 ways to learn who Chileans are

Photo: Bárbara Paz Rebolledo Bustamante

1. Drink anything but water.

If you’re caught drinking water, Chileans will become very concerned and ask if you’re feeling okay. They’ll even warn you that “agua te hace mal” (water makes you sick). In reality, the tap water in Chile is fine for drinking, but locals have a preference for soda, wine, and liquors such as pisco, chicha, and pipeño.

They’re especially proud of their Cabernet Sauvignon and will often cite Chilean folk singer Tito Fernandez’s song: “Me gusta el vino porque el vino es bueno. Y cuando el agua brota, pura y cristalina, de la Madre Tierra, más me gusta el vino.”

Translation: “I like wine because wine is good. But when I see the water, pure and clear, gushing from Mother Earth, I like wine even more.”

2. Don’t make any sudden noises or movements.

Burping audibly is a faux pas right on par with farting. If you burp audibly in public, you’ll either be teased or glared at and thought of as maleducado (impolite). It’s also considered bad form to stretch or yawn openly in public, and some even suggest retiring to the bathroom for such unsavory bodily functions.

That said, it seems to be forgiven among good friends or family. One night while sitting at the once (tea time) table with my two little host sisters, I felt a burp approaching. The air bubble entered my esophagus and, in slow motion, inched its way up as I prepared to deal with the repercussions. I allowed myself to burp audibly and immediately feigned embarrassment, “Dios mio, I’m sorry!” While they both chuckled a bit, my host sister was very sweet and understanding. “It’s okay, it’s natural,” she reassured me, “It’s nothing bad in this house. We all do it.” And with that burp, I became part of a Chilean family…which everyone knows is the best kind of family there is.

3. Forget Spanish; learn Chilean.

Contrary to the information you gathered from the CIA World Factbook, the official language of Chile is not Spanish; it’s Chilean! Chilean is a variant of Spanish combining modismos (slang), garabatos (profanities), and even the occasional random word derived from the indigenous Mapuche language. In order to speak like a Chilean you must talk quickly, drop consonants, and only pronounce half of each word. Chileans also punctuate each word or sentence with “po” — a filler word with no meaning — and “cachai?” which means roughly “y’know?”

4. Subsist solely on sandwiches and sausages (along with bread and avocados).

When you think of Latin American cuisine, you probably think of ceviche, empanadas, and carne asada. While all of these things are readily available in Chile, Chileans have an overwhelming preference for sandwiches and hot dogs (called completos). Chileans also eat an unprecedented amount of avocados (palta) and bread in various forms (marraquetas, hallullas, pan de molde, pan amasado) and try to incorporate corn (choclo) into any dish they can.

5. Kiss everybody.

In Chile, you always begin and end interactions with people with a kiss on the right cheek. (This is between two women or between a woman and a man. Men greet each other in the emotionally deadened way we’re accustomed to in the US, essentially by yelling, “Yo homo!” at each other while they slap hands.)

The whole kissing thing adds a level of confusion, tension, and excitement to most social interactions. When I walk into the teachers’ lounge in the morning, am I supposed to kiss everyone? Apparently, yes, I am. But I only want to kiss my friends! Then there are other moments when you get lucky, like when you’re leaving a bar and your male friends decide to greet the handsome busboy on the way out. This means a handshake for them, but you, you lucky girl, you get to go in for a cheek kiss!

6. Marry your middle-school sweetheart.

Chile is, at heart, a Catholic country, and the culture here is very much based around mating for life. Even among very young couples in middle and high school, the overarching goal of relationships seems to be to remain together forever. Entering a high-school classroom or taking a walk through a park is like boarding Noah’s Ark — everyone’s paired off.

7. Get in a car with strangers.

Colectivos are a really convenient, economical way to get around certain parts of town, and they’re fun because you get to practice your Spanish with locals. Also, the drivers are always honest. In one of my first colectivo rides from home to work, I was the only person in the car besides the driver. He stopped 10 minutes from my destination, returned my money, and said, “You can walk from here, right? I have to go to the bathroom.”

8. Clog a toilet.

Signs posted in public bathrooms throughout the country will ask you to throw toilet paper in the garbage bin rather than in the toilet. You’ll usually abide by the flyer’s plea, but, like any true Chilean, you’ll occasionally be tempted to throw caution to the wind and throw your paper in the toilet. You’ll inevitably clog it up, and I must warn you that googling “how to fix a Chilean toilet” yields no useful results.

If this happens to you at a friend’s house rather than in a public restroom, you can either ignore it and leave it for the next bathroom user to deal with (which may be how you got into the situation in the first place), or you can have the courage to ask for help, all the while insisting that “it was only a number one.”

13 signs you're from Finland

Photo: Maria Morri

1. You love dark rye bread.

The Finnish ruisleipä might not be legendary in the eyes of foreigners; however, it’s a typical thing you’ll miss when living abroad (what’s with the white fluffy substance the rest of the world consume?). Those who weren’t introduced to it as a child will probably never learn to appreciate it much. You’re just a little bit offended when people don’t immediately see the greatness of this national treasure.

2. You’re so used to paying ridiculous amounts of money for alcohol it’s stopped bothering you.

Whenever you visit a liquor store in a foreign country you can’t believe your luck. Alcohol doesn’t make you happy, but looking at the price of booze abroad might, if only just for a little while. Even sophisticated Finns might catch themselves shouting, “Can you believe these prices?” in an Estonian supermarket.

3. You’re obsessed with what foreigners think about you and your country.

If you’re lucky enough to run into a foreigner on the streets of a Finnish city, you simply must know what they think about you. Should an American visit Finland, they’re guaranteed to be asked the question, “What do you think about us?” This is a sign of low national self-esteem. The Finns want approval and won’t brag about their achievements easily.

4. You live next to Russia, but you’ve never set foot there.

You’re happy to accept the existence of this giant beyond the eastern border but aren’t willing to do much more. You might not know much about the country and feel you should learn more, yet you end up spending your holidays elsewhere year after year. And their alphabet just puzzles you.

5. You think your English is subpar.

Most Finns will compare their English to other Finns’, not other Europeans’. This leads to absurd situations where you’ll, with your perfect English, apologize for your bad English to someone whose mother tongue IS NOT English.

6. You think Moomins are the best thing since Shakespeare.

They’re big, white, and philosophical in an everyday manner. You own a dozen expensive mugs with pictures of them. You can’t comprehend why everybody doesn’t simply love them. Most Finns have an answer ready to the question, “Which Moomin character do you most resemble?”

7. The ice-bucket challenge doesn’t impress you.

Cold water is no stranger to you as seawater temperatures rarely reach levels to brag about, and swimming naked is part of your daily routine. Seeing people pour ice-cold water on themselves makes you think, “Refreshing!” not, “Courageous!”

8. You’re only interested in sports when you realize your country might actually win something; i.e., you’re only interested in hockey.

Let’s face it, a small country like ours can only really be good at a few sports. So why not pick one that’s seriously played in about four other countries? Gold medal here we come!

9. The cold and dark winter surprises you every year.

You moan about the winter until it’s over and then forget about it until next winter. Then you start moaning again. You sometimes plan to move somewhere where it’s warmer but quickly realize the only countries you’d deem acceptable to live in are Nordic, and that sure won’t solve your problem.

10. You think getting drunk with someone is the only true way of getting to know them.

You like talking to other Finns when you’re sober but secretly feel you’re only getting skin deep with them. You really want to reach a level of honesty that comes out after that seventh drink. After that, we’re really sharing some good stuff!

11. You feel that not having a summer house is a synonym for homelessness.

You’re surprised to hear that some countries consider summer houses a fancy of the elite. For you, it’s kind of like having a normal house, just a less modest one by the sea. You didn’t buy your summer house and don’t know what they cost. It just was there when you were born.

12. You make fun of the Swedes but secretly admire everything they do.

You mock the way they talk, the way they don’t say things straight, the way their meetings drag on. On the other hand, you like their fashion, their music, their politics, and everything about Stockholm.

13. You’re not surprised to run into top politicians on the street or in the bus.

Oh, there’s the president reading the paper. And there’s the prime minister on a bike. Now let’s get on with work.