Oh Father Where Art Thou?

     I'm having daddy issues. No, no, not like that. Host dad issues, and they're really not issues, more like misunderstandings. I mean this quite literally too, I sincerely can not understand him. For starters, he has a speech impediment where he can neither pronouns his "s" nor his "r" sounds- making 50% of his words complete gibberish. This, combined with the Chilean accent and slang makes talking to him in a word, baffling. What I can piece together is this:
1) He thinks American girls look like boys and are too thin and need to put more meat on their bones. Then again, he's also obese so everyone is thin in comparison...
2) Every weekend he goes out to the casino and wins every time. But how? Well I asked the same thing, and in listening to his response I couldn't figure out what the word "cahnio" meant. He was saying "casino", so it's still a mystery.
3) He's in a motorcycle club. I thought I mis-heard him but he made the vroom-vroom hand motions of a motor bike... So, I actually understood that one- it was only the disbelief of it that made me question him.

        He's quite the clown, and despite the language barrier and blood relation- one thing remains the same despite culture differences. Fathers still love to give their daughters a hard time. He is relentless with my host sister about her pololo (who has a unibrow), and the clothes she wears (which usually have an element of sparkle.)
      With me, he pretends to have a "draw" (a la John Wayne) whenever I see him. Swiftly he'll pull his invisible gun from his invisible hip holster, on occasion shout "Whiskey", and shoot me down. When I asked him why, he replied with some yadda-yadda I didn't understand. But maybe even if I did, it wouldn't have made much of a difference, because from what I can tell sometimes we like to joke around just for the sake of joking. And that's something I can always understand.

Chile Dog

    There may be more than one way to skin a cat-- but I bet you there are even more ways to eat a dog. A hot dog that is. The streets of New York City provide an abundance of dirty-water dogs, served up with the classics (relish, mustard and ketchup); Chicago boasts the "dragged through the garden" variety- accompanied by celery salt and veggies, Germany has their Frankfurter and Chile has the Completo. 

     Completo, meaning "complete" or "total" is exactly that. The toppings are as strange as french fries and on occasion, mashed potatoes. The anatomy of this dirty dog starts with the basics: bun and sausage. From there it moves on to chopped tomatoes, sauerkraut, chilean spices, onion, guacamole, green sauce and mayonnaise. Different restaurants have their own twist on the Completo as you would expect- local spot Cevasco has a style "A lo Pobre" where the dog is adorned with french fries, fried onions and an egg over-easy. 

    The verdict? More delicious than it sounds. I had mine with the classic toppings (no potatoes for me) and sin mayonesa. It was a feat, and also a feast- I couldn't make it through the whole thing. The local stray dogs hang outside Completo-spots for this very reason, willing to pick up the slack of the Completo. Because while one Chile Dog may say "eat me" the other says "feed me." And I say, "Gladly." 

The Standard "Completo"

Now, that's a Chile Dog. Feelin' fine post-completo. 

Pololo is a Real Thing

   The first time I heard a Chilean ask; "¿Tienes un pololo*?" I sincerely thought I was being questioned if I came to the country barring some sort of gringa disease. Baffled I replied, "No, tengo todas mis vacunas**". This response was, of course met with a roar of laughter. Speaking of vaccines- I have become completely immune to being laughed at as token foreigner. So I had to ask, what in the world is "Pololo"?

Pololo/ Polola: 1. noun. An intimate friend, hook-up, the person you are seeing, the person you are interested in. See also: boyfriend, girlfriend.

   Ah yes, pololo. Of course, this is a slang term signature to Chile and the Chileans love to be "poleando" (dating). In fact, last night at local hang-out Cafe Journal I had the pleasure of meeting a girl named Mallory from Minnesota. Preface: this is as much of a real story as "pololo" is a real word- and that's real. At age 17, Mallory came to Chile for a high school exchange program and met a pololo. She returned to the states love drunk (which translates in every language) and kept the relationship going much to the dismay of her friends and family. She expressed to me- and I noted on Cafe Journal napkin this:

"When I was as young as I was I had a hard time explaining this-- nobody really believed it. And I don't really know if I did either. But it worked and, now I'm 26 and getting married in a month. Sometimes things just take time."

   Couldn't agree with you more, Mal. Buena Suerte to you and your pololo!

*Do you have a pololo

**I have all my vaccinations 

The Meet Cute

The meet cute, the intersection, a binding agent or that sliver in the middle of the Venn diagram you learned about in grade school. Back then it was all numbers and letters but here it is a love for food, a fashion statement, idioms and gestures, even a simple smile. The language may be different but there are just some things that will never be lost in translation and now, I'm here to find it. Viva la Venn!