I was the luckiest s.o.b in the world when I was in Santiago, Chile. A family friend of ours had good friends who lived in Santiago, and these kind Chileans allowed me to use their house as a home base in between traveling the rest of South America. They also took me in as their 5th child, calling me "our gringo boy" (and also "Sawyer" because they thought I looked like the needlessly rebellious dude from "LOST" with my mullet). The mother was the granddaughter of a former Chilean President (Not Pinochet), and the father was a 15-year old at heart trapped in the body of a successful businessman. The kids were 15, 19, 21 and 24 respectively, and while I was technically older than all of them, I found I bonded most, on a maturity level, with the tall and lanky 15 year old boy Pedro. When I first arrived to their house, Pedro displayed a distinct fascination with hurling objects at me or my head (especially when I was not looking). In the first 48 hours at their house, the following objects careened in my general direction: a right footed flip flop, a heavily chewed (by dog) tennis ball, pebbles, a Luke Skywalker Lightsaber, one of those colorful balls with suction cups all over it, a pink fluffy thing, sparkling water (at the dinner table), a Wiley Coyote figurine, two ping pong paddles, a yellow stress-relieving ball and brownie. After he did this, he laughed (in Spanish). On most occasions, I did too (in English).

I cannot say enough about the Family. They were so great. They fed me. they showed me around, I played tennis and soccer whenever I wanted as they owned a tennis/futbol club. I went skiing with them, they let me use their car, they took me to city events, art shows, movies, out to parties, etc. Basically, this is all to say that when I was living at their house, I was leading a lifestyle that I have never and will never lead again. (you know you're living the high life when your underwear and socks comes back ironed and Cocoa Puffs are waiting for at the kitchen table you when you wake up.)

While this living arrangement would seem to be the perfect way to practice my Spanish, it was probably the worst place to be for my Spanish learning. All of them spoke various levels English and basically wouldn't let me speak Spanish as they were so pumped to to practice their English. The father spoke English rather poorly, and he and I would have some of the most legendary Spanglish conversations imaginable about business, cultural differences, how he whooped my ass on the tennis court, how Hurley got so fat on "LOST", etc.

While Chile does enjoy a decent economy and a higher standard of living compared to most other Latin American Countries, the family I stayed with is certainly not the norm. There is widespread poverty in Santiago and the average monthly wage is around $400 per month. I was incredibly fortunate to get connected with the Family I met, and it was a startling notion to be in a home with full time live-in servants.

Needless to say, staying with the Arniboldi's was a far cry from my previous home-stay in Santiago with an older couple and their 40 year old daughter inflicted with dwarfism who had a heated crush on me, culminating in her slapping my ass one day when i was leaning into the refrigerator for salami.