By Alexis Roman, CASA Chile Fall 2019 (Brown '21)
Una semana me queda en Santiago. I got here in the winter, in July, my Chicago summer cut short, and now it’s summer in Santiago in December and in one week I’ll be back in the winter. Seasons aren’t what they used to be.
As I prepare for the next seasonal inversion, my mind races to capture all the memories. The fear of forgetting looms beneath me. It tries to shake me, but living here for this long means I know what it actually feels like for the earth to tremble, and right now I am still. Here.
La cordillera stands strong in the distance, monumental reminders of the earth’s incredible posture. I sit up. So many sun salutations I’ve directed pal poniente que me siento fortalecido, stronger, no stranger to the heights and dips of this territory.
All that to say that I’ve gotten really into yoga. Me atrevo a decir que soy un seco pal vinyasa. I won’t lie, I’ve had a lot of time on my hands, enough to balance my body on them. And it’s been a nice change of pace. It’s been a privilege more than anything to focus on my breath and carry my body through these lands, one that I meet with extreme gratitude. I come back to my breath and all the wonders I’ve absorbed come rushing back: desert sand salmon by salt lagoon blue, white water foaming on black rocks, waves of flags in seas of people, and stars who’ve been obscured for far too long.
But then the earth shakes, or the smog blurs the view, or the violent inner voice that demands speed resurges and the metro fares are raised, and the forest burns, and the milicos gage 200 eyes, and my breath seems small. In times like these I know to reach out, not fall in, and grasp the hand that holds mine. But what about when the state locks you in? Under curfew, Chile made it known: when silence reigns, pots sing and dethrone.
Cling. Cling. Cling-cling-cling. I am awake. Cling. Cling. Cling-cling-cling. I am alive. Cling. Cling. Cling-cling-cling. I am not alone. The clamor of community brings me peace.
Being here, in this moment, with this growing body and absorbent mind, is an honor. Learning, in many more ways than one, how to dispel my own fears and stand volcanically, in solidarity, is a strength that my body has absorbed like a memory.
