La Serena

I pull weeds.

A relaxing job. Soothing. ¨Limpia el alma (soul cleansing)¨ says my host mother and boss, la Señora Laura.

A fitting task for me while living in a city called la Serena, which translates as ¨serene¨ in English.

A city on the coast, la Serena is bigger, older, and more formal than Copiapó. In contrast to the tangle of dirt roads and cracked asphalt that criss-cross the little desert town I just left, the well-organized downtown of la Serena forms neat right angles. My steps ring more swiftly and clearly on these old cobble stone streets.

But my boots trod on soft ground at my home on el vivero just east and above the city center.

I am living in a place of palm trees (as I had hoped)! But el vivero is not the organic farm I had expected. La sra. Laura is a kind-hearted friend of a farmer I contacted through WWOOF (my organic farm website) who offered me a place on her fruit tree and flower nursery.

We grow and sell plants. 

For farms, gardens, or window sills.
From roses to cactus.
From orange trees to lilies.
Potted plants of all shapes and sizes scatter the surfaces of la sala de ventas, the tent where our younglings are displayed. After each day of customers perusing the many-petaled aisles, the plants must be reorganized, watered, and weeded. Wilting plants are removed, and new blooms take their places. I help write new price tags and twist them around the sturdiest and most visible stems. 

On cool, cloudy mornings we like to work in the warmth of the greenhouses. There are thirteen other people with whom I work, and we all split off to tackle different tasks. We trim plants, water plants, and count plants. We separate the roots of seedlings before planting, carefully selecting which ones are worth keeping. One person uses a rod to make holes in the bags of wet dirt, while others follow, filling in the holes with the chosen seedlings. About twice a week someone gets to cut the prettiest flowers in the greenhouse to arrange in bouquets. The outdoor plants need watered as well. And there is always weeding to be done. I feel like a superhero when I weed. I remove THE BAD to make room for THE GOOD.
I save lives everyday. 

And I get to do so with good friends.

This girl keeps me laughing when there is absolutely nothing to laugh about. My first day at el vivero I was asked to shadow Katty so she could show me how things are done. 
I stayed at her side from that day forward. 
We sing songs, discuss our language differences, imitate movies, or laugh about boys as we work. She is patient with my slow, halting spanish. She loves hearing me speak Chilean slang. And I teach her basic phrases in English, but she can never finish saying them before she starts to laugh. I finally taught her how to count to twenty. She does it well. And we laugh anyway.

Katty took me under her wing from the start, but it took some time for the others to warm up to me. The majority of my fellow workers had never met a foreigner before. So from the moment I arrived I was a novelty on el vivero. I felt like they had never seen anyone who looked like me in real life before. I am about double the height of most of my fellow workers and they have twice my color.

Katty, sra. Fresia, Rosa, Macarena, Carla, and me

It was strange for them to meet a full-grown, seemingly capable adult who couldn't speak fluently. The men especially were hesitant to talk to me at first. They would peer at me from afar between the rows of plants. The women welcomed me more quickly, chatting as we worked. They ask me questions: Can homosexuals get married there? Can you understand African Americans when they talk? Do all churches in the United States have big choirs? Do you have a pool in your backyard? Do they eat McDonald's everyday in your country?

I spend my days kneeling amongst the green rows, tending plants, and laughing with my co-workers.

And in the evenings I return to my new home. 

My new sink. 

My new dog. 

And my new family.

We live on the property of el vivero: sra. Laura, Laurita (her 17 year old daughter), sometimes Diego (the boyfriend), Luna (the dog), and me (the new girl). Ever since sra. Laura picked me up from my hostal downtown and drove me through the gates of el vivero that first time, she has treated me as if I were her daughter.

Our first cup of tea together sealed our friendship. Now we drink tea and talk every evening, checking in with each other, reviewing the events of the day, chatting about el vivero, men, and our families. Her family is the most important thing to her in the world. She has 4 children, 1 boy and 3 girls, all around my age more or less. Only Laurita, the youngest, still lives in the house with us.

In the afternoons, la sra. Laura and I fix lunch (always an adventure).

Neither of us have very refined skills in the kitchen, so we throw together whatever we can find. We work as a team. Sra. Laura always has lots to do, lots of people calling. When she bowls in for lunch, she is still in rush mode. She gets out the pan to boil water for the potatoes at record speed and quickly calculates the most efficient, tasty, and rapid way to prepare the remaining food in the fridge. She tells me the plan and always ends with, "te tinca?" which I translate as, "does that tickle your fancy?" so it always makes me smile. It really means something more like, "do you think that will be good?" or "would you like that?" I always say yes and start chopping the vegetables. 

I grow to admire sra. Laura more as each day passes. 

A successful and precise business woman, she is always looking for ways to improve el vivero, her life's project. She is patient with her workers, and she communicates well. She speaks with a smile and a soft voice, but she has a strong will and is decisive about what needs to be done. 

She looks like a picture. Her eye shadow shines just right. She maintains herself, her house, and el vivero presentable and fresh. 

She speaks properly (almost a different spanish than the guys in Copiapo). She speaks slowly and clearly for me, and she always waits for me to finish my long, slow thought/speech process.

She has a cute tendency to always use the diminutive, ending words with "ito" or "ita." We drink tecito (little tea) and eat pancito (little bread). I cut the tomatito (little tomato), please pass the cucharita (little spoon), lavamos los platitos (we wash the little dishes). She affectionately calls her daughters gorditas (little fat ones), and we are always attending la Luna, la cochina perrita (the bad little dog).

When we have time we go out together. To the grocery store, to the mall, or just to run errands downtown. She prefers when I drive. 

We even went out dancing one night!

The above two pictures were taken at her family's plot of land just north of la Serena. She took me there to see the last of the season's desert flowers.

Again! I find myself in a beautiful place with beautiful people. How does it work out so well? I have found yet another home, here in this old, peaceful city by the bay. Another family.

Katty and sra. Laura

Pulling weeds may not be on the typical traveler's to-do list
on a trip to la Serena,
but I am having a great time.