Category Archives: Daily Life

Stinky start to the school year

The 2021-22 school year appeared out of nowhere. Before I could fasten a clean mask to my face, students were streaming onto campus. Although I always resent the end of a vacation, I must admit the energy felt fantastic. The difference between starting school on Zoom (as we did last year) and starting in person was palpable, and even though we couldn’t see their smiles through their masks, we could hear the laughter.

School kicked off on Wednesday, July 28, and I spent much of the first day herding sixth-graders, those little lost lambs new to middle school, and helping them find their classrooms. Many of them were students I knew from my days in elementary school, so it’s been fun to reconnect. This is our sixth year at Nido de Aguilas, the longest we’ve ever stayed at any school. What a treat to watch these kids grow up!

Needless to say, Tony and I were both exhausted that night. We lounged on the sofa, eating dinner and watching old episodes of “Star Trek Voyager.” Around 8:30 p.m., I couldn’t keep my eyes open, so I plodded to the kitchen with my dirty dishes and plans to hit the hay.

“Why is there water all over the floor?” I called out to Tony. Then I realized it was gushing from the laundry room. At first, we thought our washing machine was leaking, and we spent some time sleuthing around the hoses and filters. We mopped up the water, using most of our clean towels, and then I crawled into bed.

Two hours later, Tony shook me awake in a panic. “It’s flooding again!”

In a haze, I wandered to the kitchen, where dirty water was pouring from the drainage pipe in our laundry room. Not sewage, but still quite disgusting. We began sopping up the water, but we couldn’t keep pace with the geyser. Finally, I called the upstairs neighbor and, in very broken Spanish, explained what was going on. Her English-speaking daughter finally intervened and promised to turn off the water. That solved the problem temporarily.

The next morning at school, I asked a Chilena colleague to write a message to our building administrator, Jaime. She also tried to call him. He didn’t respond. That evening, he wrote to say a plumber would come the next morning. Whew!

However, when I got home from school the next day, I talked to Jorge, the building’s conserje, who is a doorman, handyman, and gardener, all rolled into a kind, cat-loving, gentle man with incomprehensible Chilean Spanish. No plumber had visited during the day, he said and asked if he could take a look at the problem. He came up to our apartment and ran some water in the kitchen sink, but I explained that the flooding happened when we weren’t even using any water. He went upstairs and ran the neighbor’s washing machine, and sure enough, along came a deluge. The neighbor, Anita, agreed not to wash clothes or dishes till we could fix the problem.

Jorge came back down to our apartment and told us he needed to remove a metal plate from the wall to access a pipe that ran down the length of the building. He suspected there was a clog under our apartment. He hammered and drilled and pounded and fussed with the bolts on that thing for hours. No luck despite some big chunks missing from the wall.

Jorge told me I needed to call a plumber. When I pointed out that the problem didn’t seem to be in our apartment, he shrugged and said, “Es su responsibilidad.” I couldn’t process HOW this could be my responsibility, but I talked with our fabulous landlord (a Canadian and former Nido teacher), who tried to help from afar. I even tried to rally the neighbors on the building’s Whatsapp chat.

Over the next couple days, Jaime continued to avoid doing his job. The neighbors pressured him to take care of it. After all, only a few months ago, a first floor apartment flooded so badly, the renters just left for good. At one point, Jaime posted a ridiculous message about how he had TRIED to schedule a plumber but then he found out we weren’t home so he cancelled it, implying it was OBVIOUSLY our fault. I was so angry, I wrote some caveman Spanish about how we didn’t even KNOW a plumber was coming, so how could we be home?!

In the meantime, the laundry piled up, and Tony resorted to doing dishes in the bathroom sink.

Jaime finally scheduled a plumber for Tuesday. I took the day off work to be home. The guy was very nice and respectful. He listened to my story and then spent the day popping in and out of the apartment. At one point, when I was alone, nasty water started gushing from the laundry pipe at full force. All my towels were in the bathtub, so I grabbed the kitchen trash can to catch the water. I ran out into the stairwell and enlisted a neighbor to help me find the plumber, who wandered in and stared at the quickly filling trashcan, obviously perplexed. I kicked a bucket under the water while I ran the trashcan to the bathroom to dump the water in the toilet, but the laundry room was fully flooded before I could return. Long story short, at the end of the day, Jorge came up to my apartment with the update. I called a friend to translate. “He says the plumber gave up,” she told me.

At that point, I burst into tears. We had gone six days without using our kitchen water or doing laundry, and I just felt like nobody was trying very hard to solve the problem. A couple hours later, Jorge returned and assured me a different plumber was coming the next day.

I couldn’t take another day off work, so we arranged for one of Tony’s former students to hang out at our place for the day. Around 1 p.m., she texted to say the work was finished and everything seemed to be working. I just couldn’t believe it!

Sure enough, life is getting back to normal for Tony and me. Suddenly we don’t resent doing laundry. And who knew how fabulous it would feel to spend the weekend cleaning toxic waste from our kitchen floors and sinks?

Let’s just hope this stinky start to the school year portends better times to come.

Pandemic reading list 2021 (so far)

Since my new friend, Laura, turned me on to the Libby app, I have been reading like a maniac! I mean, I read a lot anyway, but this app lets me borrow books for free from my public library in Florida. Am I the last person on earth to learn about this? I’m afraid amazon’s stock might crash now that I don’t pay for books.

What does this list say about me? It comprises predominately literary fiction with a smattering of fluffy beach reads and trashy detective novels. Historical fiction is one of my favorite genres, but I also relish a book that makes me pause to savor a cleverly crafted twist of phrase or fresh perspective.

We head back to school in person with real live students on Wednesday. That is as it should be, I know, and yet, I sure will miss all my time lounging on the balcony with a beer and a book.

Look how many books I’ve read so far this year! Do you have any recommendations for what I should read next?

  • The Witch Elm by Tana French
  • The Water Dancer by Ta-Nehisi Coates
  • Everything Inside by Edwidge Danticat
  • The Island of the Sea Women by Lisa See
  • Deacon King Kong by James McBride
  • The Lantern Men by Elly Griffiths
  • Tricky Twenty-Two by Janet Evanovich
  • A Murderous Procession by Ariana Franklin
  • Grave Goods by Ariana Franklin
  • The Splendid and the Vile by Erik Larson
  • The Alice Network by Kate Quinn
  • Murder in Galway by Carlene O’Connor
  • Migrations by Charlotte McConaghy
  • The Stranger by Harlan Coben
  • Basket Case by Carl Hiaasen
  • Perestroika in Paris by Jane Smiley
  • The Fifth Season by N.K. Jemisin
  • Unsheltered by Barbara Kingsolver
  • People Like Her by Ellery Lloyd
  • The Consequences of Fear: A Maisie Dobbs Novel by Jacqueline Winspear
  • Invisible Girl by Lisa Jewell
  • To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
  • American Dirt by Jeanine Cummins
  • The Soul of a Woman by Isabel Allende
  • The Brightest Star in the Sky by Marian Keyes
  • Perfect Little Children by Sophie Hannon
  • The Awakening by Kate Chopin
  • The Invisible Life of Addie Larue by V.E. Schwab
  • A Man Lay Dead: Inspector Roderick Alleyn #1 by Ngaio Marsh
  • Pachinko by Min Jin Lee
  • Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Pandemic Diary – the Quest for a Test

Now that I have quarantined at my house in central Florida for almost two weeks, I’m ready to get out of here. I want to drive to my sister’s home near Destin, where I can hunker down with her family. I look forward to giggles with my sassy little niece, Annesley, and informative chats about lizards with my precocious nephew, Will. Their new pool is also calling my name. However, I want to be sure I’m virus-free before invading their space.

Everyone has been telling me how easy it is to get a Covid-19 test in the States, and sure enough, when I googled it yesterday, I found an online interface where I could register for drive-up testing at several locations. I filled out the form, chose a location, clicked on one of the available appointments, and was sent to another form. It took all of two minutes to complete the process, but when I clicked “submit,” a message popped up saying, “Sorry, that time is no longer available. Please choose a new time.” When I followed those directions, it wiped all my information off the forms, and I had to start over. Which I did. ELEVEN times!

I now knew my mom’s mobile number, my health insurance membership number, and my rental car license plate by heart, but I still didn’t have an appointment.

I googled again and found the number for the Florida Department of Health. I learned that I could get free covid testing with no appointment at one of three locations between 9 a.m. and 2 p.m.  “The Clermont site has already used up all their tests for the day, though,” I was told. I asked about the other two sites. One was more than an hour’s drive, but the other – about 30 minutes away – still had tests available.

It was 9:30 a.m. I grabbed my keys and my mask and hit the road. When I arrived at the health department around 10 a.m., a big sign informed me, “COVID testing closed.” Another note explained the 100 tests allocated for the day had already been used. When I got home, I called the health department office to find out how early I would need to arrive to get one of the coveted tests. “Oh just be here by 9, and you’ll be fine,” the receptionist said.

This morning, I was on the road by 8:10 a.m. I packed a book, planning to hang out in my car till the clinic opened. Instead, I arrived to find a full parking lot and a line of masked test seekers. The “COVID testing closed” sign was still posted, so I almost turned around to drive home. Instead, I parked and started preparing a firm but civil reaction if someone informed me that I was too late. Lucky for me, that didn’t happen.

It should say 9 a.m. to 9:30 a.m. ’cause if you’re any later, you are not getting tested!
Waiting in line.

A nurse handed me a baggie with a blank label on it. She told me to write my name, phone number, and birthdate and then proceed to another nurse, Rosanna, who gave the instructions. Open the baggie, take out a swab, and stick it up both nostrils. “How high do we have to stick it?” I asked. I had heard you practically have to touch your brain. “As high as you’re comfortable,” she answered. “Just clean out your boogers.” 

Boogerless, I took a little liquid-filled vial out of the baggie and popped my swab inside. I handed my baggie back to Rosanna, and I was finished. It looked like another 20 people behind me in line would get the last of the tests; a health department worker was sending everyone else away at 9:40 a.m.

Shoutout to Rosanna! Thank you!!

Once I got over my crankiness at the state of Florida for making this process so frustrating, I rather enjoyed my drive home. I guess I hadn’t realized how close I was to a beautiful stretch of countryside.

My parents have lived in this retirement community for several years. Although I have visited many times, we usually hung out at their house or the pool. We didn’t venture far beyond the subdivision gates. When Tony and I bought a house just up the street from my mother, we advertised it as a seasonal rental, so we haven’t gotten emotionally invested enough to learn about the area. For example, I had no idea a huge national forest is practically in our backyard! 

According to the U.S. Forest Service, the Ocala National Forest “is the southernmost forest in the continental United States and protects the world’s largest contiguous sand pine scrub forest. The forest has more than 600 lakes, rivers, and springs, including three first-magnitude springs where visitors can swim, snorkel, and dive in crystalline waters year round.” (I just looked it up. A first-magnitude spring is the largest kind of spring, discharging at least 64.6 million gallons of water per day.) Wait, what?! How do I not know about this place?

In addition to boasting some gorgeous trees and springs, which frankly were enough to get me super excited, the Ocala National Forest also features several recreation areas, an historic mill house on the National Register of Historic Places, an archaeological site with evidence of pre-Columbian settlements, and an interpretive trail through the area that inspired Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings to write her Pulitzer Prize-winning book, The Yearling. (Check out this story from NPR.) 

Hold on … Fun? Nature? Cultural heritage? Literature? Those are my favorite things! Another favorite thing? Horses. And guess where you can find the Ocala 100-Mile Horse Trail? As soon as I win the lottery, I am buying a horse and getting on that trail. Can’t wait.

On my two trips to the health department, I passed through part of the national forest and witnessed other spirit-nourishing scenes, as well. An eagle’s nest, perched at the top of a towering tree. Acres of bee boxes. A flock of shorn sheep (I wasn’t even sure what I was seeing at first!). Sandhill cranes, including a baby (!) strolling through the fields. Horses grazing, cows snoozing in the shade. And lakes! So many lakes. In typical fashion, I was quite giddy and may have shrieked a bit with delight.

So, lesson learned. Every cloud has a silver lining … blah, blah, blah. Instead of moaning about having to drive 30 minutes for a covid test, I am rejoicing to discover so much beauty right around the corner. For now, I will wait for my test results and fantasize about the day when the parks reopen and we can all get back out there to soak it up.

Dieciocho Party Shenanigans

It’s party season in Chile. Fiestas Patrias celebrates Chile’s freedom from Spanish rule, commemorating the first governing body in 1810 and also honoring the army. Collectively known as Dieciocho – Eighteen – because the official celebration occurs on September 18, festivities continue for more than a week with huge Chilean flags waving in the breeze, bunting and decorations in all the shops, children parading around in traditional clothing, and huge community festivals.

At International School Nido de Aguilas, the gringos traditionally host a Dieciocho party for the Chilean staff. Pisco sours and beer flow liberally, kebabs fill the barbecue grills, and we teachers take the stage to “entertain.”

My friend, Nancy, and I cracked ourselves up planning a skit modeled on a youtube video from a few years back. Remember the one with two ladies in a car who lipsync songs while wearing costumes from each era? Well, we thought it would be amazing to do the same thing with Spanish-language tunes.

Sure, we could have practiced a bit more. And, yes, we were scrambling for a car prop right up to the last minute when we miraculously scored the school’s golf cart. But we had fun, and it turned into a dance party, so you can’t ask for much more than that, right?

Felices Fiestas Patrias, Chile!

Tony tells Nido graduates: your character is your fate

For my husband, teaching is so much more than a job. Sure, he teaches high school students critical thinking skills as they analyze and write about literature, and he spends many weekend hours grading papers and writing lesson plans. However, he cares about more than his students’ scores on the International Baccalaureate exam. He cares about more than their future plans and whether they get accepted at top-tier universities.

He cares about them. As people.

I felt so proud when I heard that the senior class at International School Nido de Aguilas had voted for him to speak at their graduation ceremony. I felt even prouder when I heard his speech at the ceremony last night. He delivered his remarks in the same style he teaches his classes – with passion, conviction, and no small amount of sarcasm. I loved seeing the reactions on the faces of his students, especially when they shared an inside joke.

I actually enjoyed the whole ceremony, which included speeches in both Spanish and English (with written translations on the screens). The two student speakers were eloquent and poised with powerful messages for their peers. Seniors represented more than 30 countries and spoke about 14 languages. Their accomplishments at Nido, their bright futures, and their big smiles filled me with optimism. It’s such a cliché, but I feel like they really might make the world a better place.

Here’s a video of Tony’s speech, complete with Spanish subtitles.

And here’s the text.
Thank you.

I am truly honored to be speaking to you today. But, before I begin my speech, I would like to say something to Nido’s graduating class of 2018 that is actually important.

Simply put, I care about you. I’m fond of you. I’m proud of you. You’ve earned my utmost respect. And when you are gone, I will think about you. I’ll remember you, and I’ll miss you.

Starting Monday, when you definitely should be gone.

OK… the speech.

I feel like the youth of today isn’t ready for, or capable of, tackling the problems of tomorrow. I weep and fear for the future.

Socrates expressed these thoughts more than 2400 years ago. Fool. He was wrong then. He is wrong today. Getting to know these students, as I have over the last two years, has instilled in me a sense of hope and optimism for the future.

Actually, it isn’t really like me to speak ill of Socrates. When I was about your age, I learned two important things from him that have shaped me and made me the man I am today.

Socrates teaches us that “the unexamined life is not worth living.” I literally agree. One of Nido’s most important values is to cultivate a desire to be lifelong learners. I see that in these students; they have adopted this value, not as a mandate, but as a blessing and a virtue.

The other thing that Socrates teaches us is that “Wonder is the beginning of knowledge.” When Socrates says “wonder,” he doesn’t mean it like, I wonder what’s for dinner? He means it the way men in the Bible wondered at the angels, or small children wonder at their first rainbow or snowstorm. The way the Romantic poets wondered at Nature or the way Moses wondered at the burning bush.

Forget everything else. If you leave this place valuing learning and looking at the world with joy, enthusiasm and wonder, then your lives will be full and complete.

Nowadays, I prefer more optimistic philosophers, like Thomas Aquinas, Cicero, Franco, and Arturo Paz. Men who seem to know the secrets of what it means to be a good person and men who find happiness and joy in this world.

Earlier this year I forced many of these students to read the French play No Exit by Jean-Paul Sartre.

It is a fun play about a group of people trapped in a room in hell together. A metaphor for my class? Perhaps.

Now, before I could teach this play, I had to teach Sartre’s most core belief. You see, Sartre was an existentialist, and so Sartre believed that who we are, our essence, is a product of what we say, what we think, and what we do… and nothing else. You are the choices you make. That’s it.

And if you want to know something about me, I wholeheartedly agree.

These philosophical beliefs– I call them Truths– are why I teach English literature. I have done so my entire adult life because I know that the study of literature in any language has always been a study of what it means to be a human being.

Great authors and poets reflect truths about humanity, and the very greatest authors, from Shakespeare to Cervantes, define what it means to be a human being.

From my life of teaching and studies of literature, I have discovered one universal truth that hangs in the aether above everything else: Your character is your fate.

Who you are defines what will become of you. Everything I’ve ever read, from the Bible to Waiting for Godot, confirms this.

Sometimes, when teachers forget to write a lesson plan, we guide students in a ridiculous argument about fate vs. free will. Was Oedipus fated to kills his own father or did his choices lead to. . .
We were just messing with you… just killing 22 minutes. We know that Macbeth’s or Willy Loman’s or Harry Potter’s character is what leads to their eventual fates.

The same is true for us.

You see, whom you choose to be defines what will become of you. Thus, your character is your fate.
And knowing you, Nido’s class of 2018, like I do, your futures will be glorious.

Tomorrow is standing before you all; it is bright, like the sun.

That said, life isn’t always easy. I’m not sure if anyone has ever told you this before, but our lives are only a collection of days . . . and all of those days are valuable. A few of those days will be filled with sorrow and loss, but those days will be balanced with times of joy and blessings.

Many of your days will be filled with work. Not quite so many if you are a teacher, but please don’t do that to yourselves.

In your darkest hour you may wonder if life is worth living. You may wonder if it is noble to “suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune” as Hamlet asks.

Hamlet . . . poor Hamlet. He failed to see what Shakespeare knew and taught so well: life is precious. It is not a philosophical question! Being is better than not being. Every tragedy I’ve ever taught you, indeed every tragedy ever written, confirms this point.

The French philosopher Albert Camus, despite being the voice of nihilism, agrees with me. During World War II, Camus wrote his most famous work about the ancient myth of Sisyphus. In this philosophical treatise, Camus sought to answer the question: How should we confront the absurdity of life? How can we make our lives both meaningful and joyful? His answer guides me, and so I want to share it with you.

Sisyphus was punished by the Gods for his hubris and deceitfulness. He was forced to roll an immense boulder up a steep hill, only for it to roll back down the instant he reached the top, and maddeningly, Sisyphus was forced to then take a new batch of know-nothing 9th graders and once again start pushing them back up the hill.

What we are celebrating here today is the fact that you have just pushed a really big rock up a really big hill.

In a half hour, everyone will take your picture as you toss your hats into the air.
Those pictures never come out, by the way.

Go head, celebrate, hoop and holler, and be happy. But a few minutes later, as you are crawling around trying to find your mortar board because you forgot to take the tassel off before you threw it, remember…

You’re a freshman again… off to push another rock up another hill.

And don’t go thinking that college is the greatest or last boulder of them all.

Sisyphus’s punishment was eternal: mortgages, marriage, children, businesses, jobs, taxes, owning a cat. Life never ends … until it does.

Camus, knowing that Sisyphus is a symbol for us all, concluded his work writing:
“The struggle itself towards the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.”

Camus and Sartre teach us that we can choose to be happy.

Sure, Sisyphus’s life was a never-ending series of challenges and frustrations, which is not so hard for a teacher to imagine, but imagine a man full of joy despite this daily toil. Imagine Sisyphus smiling.

My profound hope and prayer for you all is that you will be happy.

And so, in my last words to you, I want to share with you what I’ve discovered about happiness.

First, I hope you all live in the moment.

Forgive the circular reasoning, but to be happy, you have to be happy. You can’t schedule your happiness for later. You can’t spend your whole life saying: “I’ll be happy when school is over, or when it’s the weekend, or when my child finally goes away to college.”

Be happy now! Choose it for yourself. Make it part of your character and let that define your fate.
Also, you need to understand the secret of happiness.

Happiness is beyond the grasps of the shallow, the selfish or the spoiled. True happiness is a paradox. It belongs to those who care about others more than themselves.

You can have everything. Why you could even be The President of the United States of America, but if you only care about yourself, you can not be happy.

If you are unhappy, work to make others happy, and you will find happiness for yourself.

Lastly, forgiveness. It is the most noble of all human traits. These are pessimistic times. Fight it. Make your lives meaningful. See the best in people. Choose to let go of anger, wrath, envy and pride.

As I close, I need to give you your two homework assignments:
Number 1: Change the world and make it better. It is what we prepared you for, and it’s what is expected of you.
Number 2: Love your neighbor because it is both a guarantee of your own happiness and the path to a blessed life.

I wish you all the best. Thank you.

Yoga, Cats, and Coffee!

Three of my favorite things came together today in a couple of joyful hours at El Mundo de Dali, a cat café in Santiago.

The café features a two-story cat playground, complete with towers, hammocks, scratching posts, observation platforms, toys, and furniture, all for the pleasure of the 10 or so furry friends who presently call the place home. Rescue cats are dewormed, sterilized, vaccinated and offered up for adoption. In the meantime, they live in a feline fantasy world.

After rubbing hand sanitizer on our hands and disinfecting our shoes, we entered through the café into the cat casa, where the kitties were ready for some play time. Some planted themselves demurely on a mat and watched the action while others chased toys or attacked our shoe laces. A few immediately moved in for some cuddles. A spritz of catnip spray on our mats made some cats wild with ecstacy (but led to collateral damage evidenced by chunks of rubber scattered about).

The upstairs loft space includes these platforms for cats to check out the action below.

This brilliant event is the brainchild of Kristen VanderVoort, an expat and certified yoga teacher living in Santiago. She led a chill vinyasa class interrupted only occasionally by cat interference.

One black-and-white sweetie named Chaplin (for his iconic little mustache) alternated between dashing, flipping, spinning around to chase the teaser toys and then hunkering down in someone’s folded jacket or even on one girl’s legs during “up dog.” Nina, a spitfire and a bit of a bully to the other cats, was nosing around my bag during a vinyasa, but when I lowered into “chaturanga,” she launched herself claws-out onto my head. “Ouch!” I exclaimed with surprise, but really Nina was adorable, so I didn’t mind. Sombra posed on Nancy’s mat as she pushed back into “downward facing dog.”

Lying on our backs for some final twists, this was my view. Martin, a permanent resident of the café, had a great seat for watching the yoga class.

After yoga, the café workers brought in stools and low tables for coffee and cat-themed treats.

Then we had a little lesson on making origami cats. Cheesy but fun.

As the event wound down, I went up to the loft and hung out a bit with these two lovelies.

Café cats who’ve been adopted.

Other shots from our visit.

Play time! Hard to know where Martin ends and Moise starts.

A photo of Jackson Galaxy, a big celebrity in cat lady circles. Check out his youtube channel.

When I got home, Ella sniffed my yoga mat, gave me the stink-eye and walked around the house with her tail fluffed up for a while. It took a while to convince her that she’s the only cat for me.

Still, I can’t wait for the next Yoga, Cats, and Coffee!

Mindfulness Retreat nourishes body and soul

After spending a rejuvenating weekend in Pichilemu for the yoga retreat in March, I knew one thing for sure: I needed to get back there ASAP.

In April, I joined an eight-week mindfulness course led by one of our high school counselors, Lina. Right away, I knew this program was going to have a powerful impact on my life, and I realized Lina was the ticket back to Pichilemu. I selfishly pitched the idea of organizing a mindfulness retreat, and to my surprise, she agreed.

Our partnership paid off in an incredible weekend, May 11-13, back at the retreat center, Conviento de Lobos in Pichilemu. Lina poured her heart into an itinerary rich with mindful activities, and I was the “logistics coordinator.” For our first attempt at this, we advertised only to school staff, and we couldn’t believe how quickly we reached capacity – 23 women, including us.

Lina encouraged us to consider mindfulness through the “lens of gratitude,” reminding us how much sweeter life is when we pause to appreciate it.

One of our assignments was the 10-finger gratitude exercise: Name 10 things you are grateful for in the here and now. Although I was grateful for a million things at this retreat, here are my top 10, in no particular order:

(1) Spectacular Sky.
On the evening of our arrival, the setting sun set the sky aflame with shades of orange, fuchsia, and purple, slowly transitioning in the next few hours to a blanket of stars so bright, they nearly blotted out the blackness.

(2) Temazcal Ceremony.
Not knowing exactly what was in store, about 14 of us lined up for a temazcal ceremony on Saturday afternoon. Prepared to sweat, we wore swimsuits and cover-ups and left our shoes outside. First, one of the organizers purified us with herbal smoke. We silently set an intention for the ceremony and tossed a handful of tobacco on the fire, where large volcanic stones had been heating up all morning. We stood in line at the entrance to the structure, a round low-ceilinged wooden frame draped in blankets. The leader waited inside next to a hole dug in the center that symbolized the naval of the earth. After bowing and receiving permission to enter, we crawled in to find a spot along the perimeter. Helpers, known as “eagles” used pitch forks to transfer the hot rocks to the structure. Each time one was brought inside, the leader rubbed a resin on it, which flared and smoked for a moment. Once the rocks were in the pit, the eagles closed the door to leave us in steamy darkness. The ceremony was split into four “doors” – the great spirit, family, friends and enemies, and ourselves. For each part, leaders told stories, chanted, banged on drums, tossed herbs in the pit, invited the rest of us to offer up wishes, and splashed water on the rocks, releasing more steam. At the end of each section, we shouted “puerta,” and the eagles would lift back the blanket at the entrance to add more rocks. By the end, I was soaked with sweat from head to toe, my body was limp as a noodle, and I felt blissful – bolstered by the joy and camaraderie in the tent.
One chant especially resonated with me, “Todo lo que toca cambiar.”
Everything you touch changes.

(3) Mindful Movement.
Isn’t it crazy how we can stand and run and dance without really paying attention to what we’re doing? Our retreat included a few opportunities to move mindfully, focusing on the sensations that arise the mind and body and consciously expressing appreciation for the ability to move, stretch, dance, and laugh.

Dragging my body to the chilly yurt at the crack of dawn was no small feat. However, Renu led us through sun salutations and other asanas to warm up our bodies and prepare for the sitting meditation practice.

While most of our group time in the yurt focused on slowing down, Nancy taught a Zumba class that got our hearts pumping … and our bellies aching from laughter. Dancing is not my strong suit, so occasionally I just stopped and grinned at the mix of women willing to put themselves out there. Nancy knows exactly how to keep it real so nobody feels embarrassed or frustrated. Some ladies rocked the moves, while others (like me) found themselves cha-cha-cha-ing right when everyone else was mambo-ing left. Regardless, it was a solid workout and a ridiculous amount of fun.

Another mindful movement activity took us down to the beach, where Lina led us through a walking practice. We kept our shoes on first and walked slowly and intentionally across the soft sand and then the hard wet sand. Next, we took off our shoes and repeated the exercise barefoot. I was struck by how hard it was to keep my balance in my shoes on the soft sand. I realized how easily I take it for granted that I will be able to propel myself forward without falling down!

We also offered mindful horseback riding, which I missed because of a horse shortage. Next time! (Photo courtesy of Amy Z.)

(4) Mindful Eating.
Do you ever shovel food into your mouth without even tasting it? I know I do, especially at school when my lunch “hour” is more like 20 minutes. Lina reminded us to pay attention to what we eat. We tried a “mindful mouthful,” taking time to experience a bite with all our senses. She even used food to help us practice confronting difficulty. She passed around a plate of hot peppers, garlic, and ginger. Everyone took a pinch of one item. I chose ginger, thinking it would be the least awful. Then Lina guided us through the process: I looked at the ginger for awhile, noticing its texture and color. I inhaled its delicious scent, observing the memories it generated. I touched the ginger to my lip to experience the feel of it. And that’s when the pain started. I can now say with authority that touching ginger to your lip is about equivalent to sticking your lip in molten lava. Next, I put the ginger between my cheek and gums, where it proceeded to virtually burn a hole through my face. Finally, I chewed the ginger slowly and swallowed it, which just sent the fire sensation down my gullet. As instructed, I tried to breathe through the pain, confronting the discomfort while preventing a panicky reaction. It was a good reminder to apply those skills in other settings … and it was also a good reminder not to eat raw ginger.

(5) The Meals.
Speaking of food, every meal at Conviento de Lobos was a joyful experience. The chef, Lucho, prepared delicious vegetarian dishes that generated oohs and ahhs around the table. There’s something truly special about bonding with people over great food, so I sat with different ladies at each meal to combine the delicious flavors with interesting conversation. Such a treat.

(6) Mindful Sunset and Noble Silence.
We practiced a variety of mindfulness exercises, but my favorite took place on our second evening in Pichilemu. Lina encouraged us to find a quiet spot at the beach to watch the sunset and then maintain noble silence – no phones, no interactions with others – until the sky went black. Unfortunately, clouds had rolled in, so we didn’t get the same gorgeous sky as the previous night. I wandered far from the tourists and settled on a smooth rock to watch the sun set. Although most of the sky remained gray, a sliver of brilliant gold appeared at the horizon and slowly transformed into shimmery pink before going dark. Only the crashing waves and squawking sea birds broke the silence. I actually felt myself go into a bit of a trance, and I would swear my mind slowed down the tide matrix-style. Anyway, I snapped out of it and found another spot, a rock sheltered from the wind and perfectly weathered into the shape of a recliner. I snuggled down and let my breath match the rhythm of the waves, feeling so deeply grateful for this time. I am so rarely alone. I share an office. I share a home. I commute with Tony. I think I forgot how important that quiet solitude is for peace of mind. What a gift.

(7) Dancing on the Beach.
Of course, we have to balance quiet solitude with cutting loose occasionally! After our beach walk, Lina encouraged us to plug in to a favorite song and go crazy. She suggested the song “Saltwater Gospel,” so I quickly found it on iTunes. It was the perfect song for the moment. At first, I felt a little self-conscious, but it didn’t take long for me to climb high on a boulder and rock out. At one point a wave blasted my rock and shot salty spray into my face just when the song blared, “I’m in heaven watchin’ all these waves roll in.” Magical.

(8) Conviento de Lobos.
Our venue was perfect, simply perfect. Nancy said it might be her second favorite place on earth (after Cappedocia, Turkey). The owners, Maca and Gonzalo, have such big hearts; there’s a special vibe that permeates the whole place. It wasn’t fancy, but who needs fancy when you have that big sky and rolling sea to lift your spirits?

(9) Mindfulness Through the Lens of Gratitude.
This was Lina’s theme for the weekend, but it has also taken root in my heart. I try to meditate daily, using apps with guided meditations. However, even more powerful are the little informal practices that keep me mindful about the world around me, the food I eat, my interactions with people, and the ups and downs of daily life. I’m still new to this, but noticing and naming what makes me grateful throughout each day feels pretty transformative.

(10) Lina!
Most of all, I am full of gratitude for my retreat partner and friend, Lina. Obviously, none of the above would have been possible without her. I can’t wait to see what we do next!

Back on the mat – finding yoga inspiration in Chile

In recent months, two incredible yoginis have come into my life. Their powerful classes and inspirational words have me back on the mat and recommitted to making yoga a priority. Unfortunately for the English-speaking yoga community of Santiago, both ladies are leaving soon. Fiona is moving home to Canada, and Charlotte is moving to Mexico. I feel immense gratitude for the opportunities to laugh and learn with them.

The weekend of March 23-25, Fiona and Charlotte offered a yoga retreat in Pichilemu, a beach town about three hours from Santiago. I had registered for the retreat, but then I almost skipped it after making last-minute plans to spend Easter with my parents in Florida. Fortunately, I didn’t skip it, and I had the best weekend in recent memory.

Just steps from the retreat center, Conviento de Lobos, we could clamber over boulders, stroll on the long sandy beach, or dip our toes in the chilly Pacific Ocean.

Our accommodations were basic. I slept in the top bunk in a room shared with two friends. We practiced yoga in a spacious yurt with the sound of crashing waves filling the silence. Meals, served at a long table in the common area, comprised scrumptious vegetarian fare featuring seasonal food from the onsite organic garden.

Such a gorgeous setting.

This huge tree arched over the path between the lodges and the common area.

Yoga in the yurt. (Photo courtesy of Charlotte)

Some of us took a surfing class …

… while some of us merely waded and instantly lost all feeling in our legs.

Getting attacked by a massive sea snake!

JK … it was really just this stuff, a type of sea weed used in cooking.

A few weeks later, on April 7, my yoga sheroes led a class at Wanderlust Santiago 2018.

Here they are in all their awesomeness. Charlotte, left; Fiona, right.

Loving their class.

Other highlights of the day included a 5K walk, a meditation class in Spanish, a climbing wall, and a variety of healthy snack and drink samples. I wanted to try the slack line and the hammock yoga, but I couldn’t be bothered to stand in the lines.

An overcast morning evolved into a gorgeous sunny day.

At the starting line for the 5K, which Nancy and I walked.

Lina and I hit the wall.

With this many yogis in a space, you know there’s going to be an awesome energy.

Wanderlust drone photo.

Last week, my friend Nancy and I attended Fiona’s Yoga & Wine/Food Pairing event, which took place at Sala Indriya, a beautiful studio in Santiago’s funky Barrio Italia district. Fiona led a class combining power flow and yin yoga, followed by a gathering on the restaurant patio downstairs. We sipped wine, ate tasty snacks, and tried to muster enough sophistication to discuss the wine and food pairings. But mostly we just sipped wine, ate tasty snacks, and laughed a lot.

I try not to think about the impending departure of Fiona and Charlotte, but I know my life is richer for having known them.

Rod Stewart in Chile – Have I told you lately that I love you?

Ever since I was in high school, I’ve been in love with Rod Stewart. It was a passion fueled by one of my best friends, Tarren. She and I saw him in concert together in St. Louis in 1996. The next year, I got a call at about 2 a.m. from Tarren, who was shrieking, “I touched him! I touched him!” after she had pushed her way to the front row at his concert and reached up to touch his hand.

When I heard Rod was coming to Chile in concert, I wrote to Tarren and begged her to come for a visit. She was tempted for a minute, but it just didn’t work out. Plus, she has seen him in concert 14 times and has tickets to see him again in August. When she couldn’t make it, I almost skipped the concert, too, but I felt like I owed it to Tarren and myself. His music was literally the soundtrack of our young adult lives. (When Tony and I got married, “You’re in My Heart” played for our first dance as a married couple, and Tarren’s wedding present was a CD player and our first CD, “Rod Stewart’s Greatest Hits.”)

It was surprisingly difficult to find anyone interested in going to the concert with me, but fortunately my friend Katherine’s mom was visiting from England and loves Rod as much as I do. So the three of us went to the show on Feb. 18.

Our seats weren’t great, and Rod has slowed down quite a bit. Still, he belted out those familiar tunes, flirted with the crowd, danced joyfully in his signature snug pants, and kicked soccer balls into an audience that clearly adored him. I heard he was the first popular singer to visit Chile after the Pinochet dictatorship ended, so many Chileans have a soft spot for him.

As for me, he’s in my heart, he’s in my soul … and he’s a special connection with a lifelong friend.