Some random experiences I've had in Chile:
1) Dealing with that awkward moment in your phone conversation with a friend when your phone suddenly drops your call, and you realize it's because you have no more money left on it. It's most fun/awkward when you or the other person is in the middle of a sentence. This also means you are missing out on the best part of the conversation, the obligatory but super tierno (sweet/adorable) good-bye banter ("Cuidate harto" "Y tu también" "¡Besitos!" "¡Abrazotes!" "¡Chau chau!"). And the other person doesn't call you back, either because a) they also don't have any money on their phone OR 2) they don't want to use up their saldo calling you back.
2) Cursing at the micros that just straight up pass your bus stop for no reason whatsoever. When on buses, listening to people play music for all the bus-goers (and then asking for donation of moneda - or coins - afterwards, which I pretty much always give, because most of them are pretty fucking good, and it makes the bus ride much more enjoyable).
3) Desperately awaiting my Pase Escolar (Student Pass), which means paying about 300 pesos less (130 pesos instead of about 420) to take public transportation.
4) Drinking way more frequently than I ever have in my life. Which makes me sound like a badass, but really, I'm quite the goody-two shoes.
5) Realizing that 2:00 means 2:15, 5:30 means 5:45, etc. Which works for me, because I'm always running late to things. You can thank my mother for that.
6) Getting locked out of my own bedroom (this happened last night - of course the one time I don't have my keys). My bedroom locks from the inside, so if someone closes the door, the only way you can get in by using your keys. Getting my host brother to unlock it with a piece of cardboard-type paper. And then getting locked out again when I leave my room for 10 seconds, because his drunk Chilean friend just walked by and randomly decided to close it. (And you thought conversing with a sober Chilean was hard enough, try it when they're drunkenly slurring their words). Who also denied closing it, and just kept crazily and haphazardly repeating "No estaba nadie" (There wasn't anyone there"); I had no idea what the purpose of that sentence was. She was gone. Having my host brother badass break it open again with his magical cardboard paper. At 3:30 AM in the morning.
7) Still waiting for the Facultad de Derecho to end their fucking toma.
8) Seeing the implications of teaching the word "hard-on" to my Nivel 1 English class (hey, they asked for the meaning, and well, we live in a democracy, right? Information should always be accessible. The people have a right to know). Almost every class, they find a way to slip it in somehow, even if I am teaching them vocab, on say, transportation and the environment, in Santiago. I really don't know how they managed to relate contaminación (pollution) to hard-on, but hey, they're committed, what can I say.
9) In related news, teaching English slang to some of my Chilean friends. Although I have to admit, one of them already knows EVERYTHING I try to teach him. Which makes me sound like I'm an arrogant, thinks-they're-all-knowing gringa when I obnoxiously say, "So there's this one phrase we really use a lot in California...." and he's like, "Yeah, I already know it. It's [insert phrase we really use a lot in CA]." The only one I taught him that he didn't know already was "Make it rain," and no one ever really uses that phrase (because who's ever going to be in a situation where they make it rain with their money). The gringo phrase that I find that seems to be the most popular with my Chilean friends is "fo sho"! Which I fucking love.
10) Trying to get a waiter's or waitress's attention. Because they don't seem to give a fuck about you. Maybe it's just the gringo element, but you basically have to yell and wave your hands like you're drowning in the ocean to get their attention. And yes, I'm aware that this one makes me sound like a spoiled gringa. The upside of this though is that you are almost never rushed to finish a meal, which I really like. Especially because in the States I have literally gotten the check in the middle of eating my entree, implicitly telling me to hurry the fuck up and get out of their restaurant.
11) Tuning out in the classes (ok, let's be real, right now, CLASS) that I have. And then realizing that tuning out in your non-native language is probably the worst idea in the world.
12) Opening my mouth to speak Spanish, and then al tiro (immediately) getting the question: "De dónde eres?" (Where are you from?). Definitely not an inconspicuous gringa.
13) Not cooking for myself. At all. The beauties of living with a host family. I swear, I'm going to come back to the States, and forget how to boil water. I wish I could say I was joking, but I fear that this is a real possibility.
14) Dealing with excessive security. You walk into a supermarket, and you either have to check your bag, or they put this weird tape on the zippers so you don't sneak any apples or chorizo or anything else that you fancy in your backpack. And I thought security was intense in supermarkets, it by no means compares to my nearest pharmacy, Farmacia Ahumada (a chain pharmacy). They have a security person, called MC Seguridad (which sounds more like a rapper's name, not a job title, but whatever), WHO HAS A BULLETPROOF VEST ON. And stands on this mini-soapbox-type contraption. At the front of the store. And just stares at everyone as they shop. Which seems superfluous to me. Like, this isn't a bank - as if anyone is going to hold up a store so they can get some Pantene Pro-V and Sahne Nuss chocolate bars for free! C'mon now. Also, the MC Seguridad has a little notebook/journal that they write in. To write their innermost feelings, secrets, and desires in?? Of course a nerdy psychologist like me would think this. I am constantly fascinated by this security setup, and love going into my local farmacia just so I can observe this strange dynamic some more.
15) Commuting to school/my internship more than I ever commuted to school/internship in my life. Makes me realize how spoiled/lucky I am to live so close to my university back home. After it takes an hour to get somewhere here, the fact that my apartment in Berkeley is a 15 minute walk to class seems like absolute beauty now.
16) Getting whistled at at least once a day. Does not phase me at all anymore.
17) Getting ripped off by a taxi driver. Which happened 2 days ago. I'm sure it's happened to me more than once, but this was the first time I realized that it happened. And by me realizing it, I mean my gringa friend Claire realizing it and pointing it out to me (what can I say, the pitcher of vino con frutilla (wine with strawberries) that I shared with my friend made me a little sleepy/out of it). We were only in the cab for a few minutes, when Claire sees the meter at over 2500 pesos (It should have barely been 1000 pesos, if that). So she confronts him, and this is pretty much how it went:
Claire: Señor, el contador está equivocado (Sir, the meter is wrong)
Taxista: No, es que es más caro en la noche (No, it's just that it's more expensive at night). Which is an utter lie, because the only time a taxi is ever expensive is if you call a special radio taxi - their starting price is 1100 pesos, compared to a regular taxi you pick up on the street that starts off with 200 pesos.
Claire: Pero señor, eso es una locura (But sir, that's just crazy/madness).
Taxista: ¡No, es más caro en la noche! (No, it's more expensive at night!).
My pathetic contribution: ¡No nos mientan! (Don't lie to us!). But then I realized that I conjugated wrong (god was my Spanish pathetic that night), so I corrected myself and said it again, in the correct way: "¡No nos mienta!" Which just made me sound pathetic, not forceful.
And then we just paid 2 luca, or 2000 pesos (because Claire said she didn't have more than that), which the taxi driver accepted because he knew that we knew he was ripping us off. We got out, and walked the rest of the way to Claire's house (it was really nearby), and got a taxi for me to take me to my house. It was definitely an experience.
18) Actually thinking that things are salty here. In the states, I put salt on food like it contains the sole oxygen I need to take in to get me through the day. But here, Chileans take it to the next level. I once saw my host dad shake the salt shaker 6 big times on teeny tiny plate containing some mashed up palta (avocado). And there's been many more times where I have witnessed unbelievable acts of sodium atrocity like this. On the plus side, when my friends give me shit about my sodium intake, I can now say, "Well, at least I have lower blood pressure than Chileans."
19) Eating miel de papya (papaya honey) for the first time. Literally THE BEST HONEY I have ever had in my life. If you haven't tried any yet, your life is not complete. Scour the supermarkets for some - you won't regret it.
20) Realizing that the English words Chileans have the most problems distinguishing from (pronunciation-wise) is cheat and shit, and beach and bitch. Imagine my surprise when one of my friends - who tandems with me - told me about hooking up with a guy who "shitted" on his boyfriend. This also makes me more self-reflective about, as well as curious to know, which Spanish words I butcher (hint: It's all of them), which makes me seem like I am saying a crazily weird, out of context, completely distinct, word.
21) Not being to fully express myself here. Although I feel like my Spanish has improved leaps and bounds since my first jet-lagged, sans luggage, day in Santiago, I'm not going to lie, there's been moments of frustration where you want to say things in a certain way, but you just can't. Or, you just straight up can't say it at all. There are times where someone will say something, and I will have (what I think is! haha) a witty comment that I want to say, but just don't know how to say it in Spanish. Or will have a conversation with someone, and just flat out say something that comes out the wrong way, just because I don't have ability to maneuver the nuances and subtleties of the language the way a native speaker can. Because there is so much more to a language than vocabulary. There's tone, there's the way you string words together in a sentences, hell, it's the way you use those words - I mean, there might be two words that are similar to each other, but one is better to say in one context, the other one in another. I mean really, a Rhetoric major would have a field day listening to my Spanish babble. And as much as I fucking love this beautiful language, and trust me, I do, the obstacle of being in this constant tension of trying to work your way through the language without embarrassing yourself (too much) or not offending someone, or even just trying to sound somewhat interesting, for that matter, can be a huge challenge sometimes.
22) Continuously being awe-inspired and amazed by the beautiful sunsets here in Santiago. It's a shame that pollution is the main cause of this.
23) Thinking in Spanish...in English. If you catch my drift. Sometimes I find myself saying, "I have hunger" instead of "I'm hungry," or "It's pleasing to me" instead of "I like it" or "It seems to me" instead of "That sounds good to me." Being here has also made my English spelling really shitty (as if it wasn't shitty enough already). I'll put one "s" instead of two, add on an "e" to a word when it's plural (I have to remind myself that it's "chairs," not "chaires"), and I've even just straight up spelled out English words phonetically. Let's just say spelling "thought" t-h-a-w-t was a low point. I need to arreglar (fix) that shit before I get back to Berkeley, that's for sure.
24) Dealing with having to prepare an oral presentation....in Spanish. Allegedly. Which, speaking of, I should probably get back to. What can I say, I'm more dedicated to this blog entry than to this presentation. Which I know will only come back to bite me in the ass later. Filo (Whatever). Will add more as they come to me....
So I posted an ad on Craigslist (yes, Chile has a Craigslist) last week saying that I thought it would be fun to "tandem" (which I know sounds like something dirty and sexual, but it really means that I talk in Spanish and the other person talks back to me in English, and we help each other out in speaking each other's languages less atrociously), just because I'm a nerd and like getting to know new people. I already met with one person last week, and it went ok, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to meet more people. 
So recently I found out that the "Starbuck's" I went to during that day of desperation, homesickness, and capriciousness was NOT a Starbuck's (apparently I'm illiterate), but rather, a knock-off called Starlight. Apparently I'm blind as well, since the logo doesn't have the crazy-haired lady on it, but rather, a lighthouse. I'm a hot mess.
