Being Lost

Obligatory "I'm in the most beautiful place" photo

I have no idea what's going on, pretty much ever. It's simultaneously depressing and hilarious. Yesterday, I got lost on my way to my first class at a university I'd never stepped foot on. It was a seminar on economic models in Chile. The only thing worse than an economics lecture is an economics lecture in Spanish. I was lost on a number of levels.

The funniest part of this experience is that it doesn't really stand out. I'm constantly confused and on the outside, of everything: conversations, jokes. In Spanish, I take everything way too literally and can't interpret humor. It's a little tiring. Characteristically, I usually decide to laugh anyway.

a working form of transportation

Occasionally, I let my status as an outsider get to me, but for the most part, it's kind of okay. I'm constantly overwhelmed with more information to all my senses than I can possibly interpret. When you realize that you can't understand much, you focus on what you can interpret: sounds of stray dogs, soreness all over after playing in a soccer game, the taste of Chilean drinks, and new friends who won't let that creep you met at a bar walk you home.

My father tells me that being constantly overwhelmed is normal and that the crazy thing was that I ever thought I understood what was going on in the world at all. He says if I'm lucky I'll remember how little I know when I return to the States. Last semester, I spent a lot of time thinking about how we draw upon theory to act, how knowing what we know impacts how we move through the world. This semester, I'm contemplating how to act wisely in the face of everything I don't know

I am also appreciating the beauty of everything I don't understand along the way. This city makes it all too easy. I have already visited Pablo Neruda's house in Valparaiso (I can actually see it from the street outside my house). I've also seen incredible views that make walking up all the hills more than worth it. Valparaiso is also the home of some absurdly skilled street art. My Spanish teacher knows all the most famous street artists in the city and would much rather talk about that than verb tenses (hallelujah). Who saw that one coming? Then again, when do I ever? That seems to be a large part of the fun.