The Kelefors

by Matt Kelemen

There’s a song that’s been running through my head of late. Something of an anthem to living a true life. In the climactic verse, the singer, a Brit named Mark David Rosenberg, rails against the deadening effect of technology.

We wish we were happier, thinner and fitter,
We wish we weren’t losers and liars and quitters
We want something more not just nasty and bitter
We want something real not just hash tags and Twitter

It’s the meaning of life and it’s streamed live on YouTube
But I bet Gangnam Style will still get more views
We’re scared of drowning, flying and shooters
But we’re all slowly dying in front of f-ing computers

— Scare Away the Dark, by Passenger

I’ve been pondering these words not only because “screen time” is the single greatest source of conflict between me and the kids, and not only because they have arrived at an age and place where personal media is ever-present (“Dad, EVERYONE at school has an iPhone!”), but because the truth is, my own life is so consumed with “screen time.” And I’m not sure what to think about that.

When I first came to South America, it was as a traveler. It was 1994. Email was new. Cell phones were a few years away. The Internet was still the domain of a small group of scientists. And I landed in Quito with a vague plan to go south until I couldn’t go any further… and then go north. I navigated mainly by following the trails of human-ants traversing the continent. We were a sub-species instantly recognizable by our backpack-appendages. And, like ants, we would cross paths, share information, and be on our way. Oh, you just came from Cuzco? I’m heading there. Can you do the Inca Trail alone or do you need a guide? Hey, did you hear that there’s going to be an eclipse crossing the Atacama Desert? You should go. The ants knew and it was because of them that I had some indelible experiences, including seeing that eclipse in the Altiplano and hiking to Machu Picchu without a guide.

But some of my happiest times were off the ant trail in quieter, more quotidian spaces. Pouring the maté for a truck-driver giving me a long ride up the barren Atlantic coast of Argentina. Describing life in my hometown to a teenager eager to get out of his small, war-torn town in southern Colombia. Joining a baseball game in Mérida, Venezuela or a soccer game in Salvador, Brazil. Laughing over a beer and churrasco sandwich in Santiago, Chile. Getting up the nerve to ask a woman to dance salsa with me in Cali. Writing in the corner of a café. Being in the moment. It was in these encounters that I felt I was beginning to understand life in the places I found myself.

There’s an ongoing study trying to figure out what makes us happy. The researchers program computers to text thousands of people and ask them how they feel about what they’re doing at that moment. So far, the study has discovered good evidence that we usually have our minds on other things and that makes us less happy. We’re happiest when we’re fully present in the moment. Actually tasting that churrasco sandwich or really listening to someone’s tale. Probably unsurprising to any Buddhist. And perhaps a bit ironic that participating in the study requires people to respond to the Pavlovian chime of a text and break away from the moment in order to describe it. But it feels important, nonetheless.

Fast-forward twenty years to our current stay in South America. Screens have changed everything. I can follow live-tweets of U.S. presidential debates and catch Larry Wilmore’s caustic take on them the next day. With the touch of a button, I can see and chat with my nieces and nephews, getting updated on their lives. I can post a picture of me with President Bachelet and get confirmation that 70 friends have seen it before the day is out. If I want to know where to see good live music in the neighborhood or navigate to the best hot springs in the nearby mountains or buy tickets to Universidad de Chile soccer matches, I reach for my phone and it’s done. When I’m in meetings or in restaurants, I keep Google Translate at the ready. On my 30-minute walk to work, I can even listen to TED talks about how screens are changing our lives, like anthropologist Amber Case who thinks our screens are already turning us into cyborgs. Or I can listen instead to Passenger, emploring me to “sing at the top of [my] voice.”

Some of these changes are inspiring, like a virtual reality movie that shows a Syrian refugee camp almost literally through the eyes of a twelve-year old girl. Others are downright disturbing, like a recent study that put 50 pre-teens in a five-day camp without screens and left 50 other pre-teens with their screens. The campers got better at recognizing emotional cues from faces in photos and silent videos. Five days of screen detox and kids are better at knowing whether someone else is happy or sad! Meanwhile, technologists like Rana el Kaliouby are actively working to get our screens to read our emotions for us. I can’t help but thinking about the dystopian future imagined in 2001, when the computer murders the crew and then tells the last man standing: “Look Dave, I can see you’re really upset about this. I honestly think you ought to sit down calmly, take a stress pill, and think things over.” Long live the robots. Humans, not so much.

All of this leads me to some pretty predictable ideas: Put limits on when I use the screen and when I don’t (especially resisting the urge to Google the answer to a vexing issue in the middle of a conversation), make sure that I’m passionate about the work I do, seek out real experiences, whether they be pick-up soccer games or long conversations with friends. While my access to technology makes it difficult to re-create the kind of life I lived on and off the ant-trail, it really isn’t so hard to just power off the phone and be fully present.

The kids know I’m trying to do this and I guess it’s a good thing that they can needle me about it. When I ask Adela to notice something amazing – like the pink hue of the snow on the Andes that we can see from our deck or the way the fruit is stacked at the market – she’ll often say, tongue firmly in cheek, “Let’s post that to Instagram!” Touché.

*****

Adela’s thoughts on screens: I personally don’t think “device time” is bad for my brother and me because our “device time” is limited. But what about the kids at my school? Most of them are rich and all have phones. And I have noticed they are on their phones ALL the time. I hosted a Halloween party for my friends and at the end of the party when everyone was getting picked up, everyone (and I mean everyone) was on their phone. I think that you can have “device time” but be smart about it.

Dylan’s thoughts on screens: The song “Scare Away the Dark” is a song I have also been listening to in the past few weeks. For me, it is like a guide for how to live your life and be happy without your electronic devices. It inspired me to think more about my social life and how it affects me and the people around me.

Jeannette’s thoughts on screens: For the last four months I’ve been using a flip phone or an android phone with minimal “smarts.” It’s caused me to map out where I’m going before I leave the house, and to ask more people for directions and advice. If I’d been absorbed in the latest Facebook posts or been able to more self-reliant maneuvering public transportation while I was out and about, I may have missed out on the chance to ask a teacher about her thoughts regarding Chile’s educational reforms. Or get advice about where to shop from the Peruvian housekeeper struggling to make ends meet. It’s helped me brush off the cobwebs on previous ways I’ve been resourceful and helped me to avoid taking technology for granted. But I won’t lie when I tell you I’m really looking forward to trading my “dumb” phone for a new iPhone next week!

 

By Jeannette LaFors

September 18th is the day Chileans celebrate their nation’s independence. This year over a million people were dealing first-hand with the aftermath of the September 16 8.6 earthquake and ensuing tsunami – dropping or adjusting any plans they had for celebrating independence.

Considerable motivation for Chilean independence from Spain came when Napoleon invaded the Iberian Peninsula in 1808 and set up his brother Joseph to rule there. Leaders in both Spain and the Spanish Americas formed juntas (local administrations) to stand in for the imprisoned Spanish monarchs. Amidst the chaos, colonists in Chile were divided – some wanted to return to an absolute monarchy, others wanted to remain loyal to Spain, and others still wished for independence. It turned out to be a long and bloody war, and civil strife ensued even after independence was won.

The national celebration is definitely a big deal. Everyone gets the two days off, and most schools close for an entire week during the “fiestas patria.” Lots of people travel to visit their families, and a religious liturgy of thanksgiving dating back to 1811 is led by the Archbishop of Santiago. The president and cabinet members attend this religious service, which became ecumenical in nature in 1971 at President Allende’s request.

Here are some of my observations:

Lots of Red, White, and Blue. I mean lots. Flags. Everywhere. I wondered why there were so many Chilean flags. Did people take their patriotism that seriously? Eventually I learned that public buildings and private residences since 1967 are required to display the flag on Sept 18 and 19 (as well as May 21) and that people responsible for displaying the flag risk a fine if they don’t. Before 2010, Chileans were not allowed to fly the flag on days other than the national holidays without permission. In honor of Chile’s bicentennial, President Piñeda enacted a law repealing the restriction and allowing anyone to fly the national flag throughout the year. The most impressive flag flies downtown near La Moneda (where the president’s offices are located) and is 27 meters long and 18 meters wide.

Consumerism. Chileans exploit their independence holidays to make some cash. Every store offers special deals and street vendors do their best to attract customers and make a sale. Kites for sale on the highway. Flags for sale on the sidewalk. Children’s traditional costumes in shop windows. Party decorations everywhere. And food . . .

BBQs are Supreme. Chile BBQs are all the rage, from intimate gatherings to giant “fondas” where thousands of people converge to eat, listen to music, and dance. I’ve never seen the variety nor quantity of meat in the U.S. like we have experienced here. You can get grass-fed Chilean beef, all kinds of beef from Argentina, Bolivia, Peru, . . . . and yes, FDA-approved beef from the U.S.A. I was astonished by the enormous quantity of meat I saw for sale in the grocery stores and consumed at the celebrations we were part of. To get warmed up for your protein-fest, you’re likely to be offered a “choripán” – a delicious chorizo sausage (chori) grilled to perfection and stuffed into fresh-baked roll (pan) or an “anticucho” (shish kabob). And you can’t turn down the empanadas – delicious meat-filled pies.

Spirited Celebrations. The first day of spring comes right on the heels of Independence Day, and snow is still covering the Andes. So the holiday is not a big lake, pool, or beach day. But typical Chilean “Dieciocho” festivities do include rodeo, emblematic of a country lifestyle in Chile’s central valley (akin to the American “cowboy” and other South American “guacho” cultures). And cueca.

At the kids’ school celebration, Adela wore a traditional huasa (aka country girl) folk dress and competed in a cueca dance contest. Cueca is Chile’s official national dance, and it’s a highly complex partner-dance that mimics the mating ritual of a rooster and a hen. I didn’t make that up.

Dylan’s soccer club hosted a giant “Dieciocho” celebration with enormous amounts of food and competitive games that included kite-flying, tug-of-war, and potato sack races. They skipped the cueca.

We were delighted to celebrate the long holiday weekend with close Chilean friends in the beautiful coastal mountain range near La Campana National Park. In addition to preparing and eating delectable back-to-back traditional Independence Day BBQ spreads (one Chilean-style and the other American-style), we spent a lot of time jumping on a trampoline, hiking, playing soccer, strategizing games of mega-size chess, and socializing with all those gathered.

And yet, amidst the hearty celebrations, ubiquitous red Chilean soccer jerseys, and military fanfare, I detected an undercurrent of rational reluctance to celebrate independence with unbridled expressions of patriotism.

Indigenous peoples in Chile continue to fight for land taken from them by conquistadors and colonists. The Mapuche, Chile’s largest group of indigenous people, are one example. The Mapuche proved to be a formidable foe to the conquistadors, and it wasn’t until the 1880s that Chile and Argentina banded together to seize and divide their Wallmapu territory. Today the Mapuche continue their tradition of fierce resistance. They plant their ancient crops on contested land, they sabotage timber corporations, block highways, and interrupt commerce. Many Mapuche activists have been arrested and charged with terrorism (in a way the UN has defined as discriminatory); and others have been killed by police.

And indelible memories of Pinochet’s human rights’ violating regime have not endeared people to trust or support national expressions of patriotism.

Thinking about Chilean independence and what it means for individuals, communities, and the nation caused me to reflect on my own ambivalence celebrating American Independence. Founders of the U.S. desecrated Native Americans, protected slavery, and excluded women and others from fully participating as citizens.

When Europeans arrived in the new world, they ushered in disease, warfare, slavery, genocide, and apartheid that decimated Native American populations. The Declaration of Independence describes Native American people as “merciless Indian Savages” and they continue today to experience discrimination in their daily lives. Native Americans are more likely to live in poverty, drop out of high school, be unemployed, and suffer from violence than most other racial/ethnic groups. And they are less likely to receive adequate access to education, healthcare, and other critical support services [See this article].

While we certainly have, as a nation, expanded opportunities for many to pursue “life, liberty, and happiness,” it is irrefutable that the lives, liberty, and happiness of far too many of our citizens are threatened and violated every day. Indeed, knowing this motivated me to become a history teacher – to help young people critically reflect on the events of our past so they might be motivated to act in ways what ensure a better present, as well as a better future.

“Me and you, we got more yesterday than anybody. We need some kind of tomorrow.”
— Toni Morrison, Beloved

 

by Adela Kelemen

The Atacama Desert, located in the northern part of Chile in South America, is HOT. It is REALLY hot. But that did not stop the Kelefors family. We got pretty beat up by twisted ankles to sunburn to cuts and scratches. But we still had an amazing time. I’m going to share our experiences with you through my eyes in a totally new way. (Please comment on how you like it.)

Day 1 – Sunday September 13, 2015

Wow, we arrived. I’m feeling super excited about…Everything! We all get off the plane and surprisingly it’s pretty cold and windy. We met a very kind young woman named Kalen on the plane and gave her a ride all the way to San Pedro de Atacama in the truck we rented. The ride up was not that interesting, though we saw some huge windmills. As we arrived we were kind of lost, but we managed to find our way. We checked into our hotel room. And when I say room, I mean one single room. Then we went to a restaurant called “Todo Natural” (Everything Natural) for lunch. Since we got up early and knew we would be up late, alll we really did was take a nap and swam in the FREEEEEEZING pool. After our rest we got ready to go to the “Valle de la Luna” (Valley of the Moon) to watch a beautiful sunset on Rosh Hashanah night. The view was wonderful and it was the perfect way to spend our first night. As we arrived home, we got ready to go stargazing. More on that by Dylan.

Day 2 – Monday September 14, 2015

We woke up to a simple breakfast. We put on our bathing suits, sunscreen, and clothes, hopped in the truck, and hit the road. It was not a long way before we arrived at the THERMAL BATHS (Las Termas de Puritama)!!! We put our stuff in a locker and slid into the pools. And they were amazing! To just feel the water was so cool! Or should I say “warm”. We swam over to a little waterfall that separated the pool from the others. It was really awesome because each end of the pool had a waterfall with water coming down from the higher pool and going down into the lower pool. And there were eight pools! But one was reserved. The waterfall was so cool. You could feel the water’s power pushing against you. And there was a little cavern behind it where you could sit and watch the water flow right in front of you. We spent some time there and then had lunch at a little picnic area. We had lunch and were finishing up when we saw MY TEACHER and her family!!! We swam with them and played with her four-year old son, Leo. We talked about Brazil (which is were they come from), the U.S., and Chile. We finished up our swimming, got changed, and got in the truck. As we drove, we came across a canyon that we decided to explore. We hopped out of the truck, got our sunscreen on, and started our walk. At first it was pretty flat. We crossed the river, which is kind of surprising, but figured out that it was the same stream that came from the thermal baths. The hike was amazing. I loved it. Most of the time we were walking downhill along the stream, but sometimes we crossed precarious little bridges over the water. It was really cool. Sometimes my dad and mom weren’t really sure we could get across, but my brother and I always found a way. We got help from a tour guide of another group, and from some people swimming and sunbathing in the river. We went pretty far before we decided to head back. Most of us were tired, but I had a lot of energy. That night we went out to a delicious place for dinner called Adobe, and then got an amazing ice cream cone for dessert. We went to bed and BAM! we were asleep.

Day 3 -Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Today we drove a much farther distance. We hopped into the truck and started to head to the Lagunas Antiplánicas (high plane lakes). We saw so much wildlife on the way up. We saw lots of vicuñas and a cute fox. At the lakes we saw mostly birds. Some tagua, Andean seagulls, and other species. The lakes were beautiful and an amazing blue green color. We didn’t really go up to the water, except Dylan accidentally walked off on his own toward the lake. Unfortunately, Dylan was feeling sick so he did not walk out very much with us. But my mom and I stayed together and we had a really awesome time. We used the binoculars and our camera. It was really fun. After a roadside lunch in Socaire, we drove to Lake Chaxa, a salt lake. It was amazing. We were walking on salt! We walked on a path that brought you to one small lake were we could see the brine shrimp which is what makes flamingos pink. We also saw a bunch of flamingos, but only from a distance. We drove all the way to San Pedro de Atacama, hung out there a little, and then got dinner. We were looking for a place that had soup to help Dylan recover. We went to this one place and they said they had chicken soup, but then the waiter came to take our order and they said they didn’t. So luckily we walked away and found a small but good restaurant called Sol (Sun). I got a tres quesos (three cheese) pasta, my brother got vegetable soup, and my parents shared a salad and churrasco sandwich. We went back to our favorite ice cream place, and again, it was delicious. We walked to our room and went to bed – all of us were tired.

Day 4 – Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Today was our last day. That didn’t stop us from going on an adventure. We woke up to a bowl of cereal. Again. Today was our day to . . . SANDBOARD!!!!!!!!!! My mom, Dylan, and I got into a van that would take us to Valle de La Muerte (Valley of the Dead). Our instructor told us some legends of how this valley was named. He also told us a little about the area. After we arrived, we hiked all the way up to the top of the dune, put our boards down, and one by one, went down the hill. It was amazing! At first you get a little scared. But then you’re fine and you want to do it over and over and over again. The only problem was how steep the dunes were. But we had the time of our lives. My dad was back at the hotel packing while my mom was taking photos of us. After sandboarding, as if that were not enough, we got ready to go to the Rainbow Valley. And it was amazing. The mountains were all different colors. I saw rocks that were red, green, brown, purple, white, etc. We went there for a little while before it was time to go. We hopped in the truck and drove to the airport and that was it. Our Atacama adventure was over… At least for now.

In conclusion, the way I look at life has changed. I see the world in a whole new way. I have seen things not many people will get the chance to see. I have started to appreciate things more. And I have learned to wait and observe. I think differently about something and not just the way I see it up front. I’ll probably never be the same. It’s funny how that happens sometimes. One small thing can change your life. And I hope everyone has that chance.