By Anna Nagel (University of Minnesota, Twin Cities)
“Anna,” I said, kissing the cheek of my host father, the standard Chilean greeting. That, along with how to drink maté, was about the extent of my knowledge of the culture of campesinos starting my homestay. Cole, my homestay partner, and I learned more customs very quickly as we dove into the work and routine of the campo.
Anna and Cole ready to get down in the dirt! Photo by Matthew Pomilia
First, hygiene and cleanliness is a priority. I was impressed with how clean the small, but cozy house stayed. Shoes stayed outside, as did our new coverall jumpsuits. Althoough the house is without running water inside, the day starts with a mandatory face wash – the cold water wakes you up! Even the back of the truck is swept out with a broom. I am still perplexed by how our host mom kept her hands clean, as I scrubbed and scrubbed to no avail.
The Campo, or farm, where Cole and Anna stayed for 3 days. Photo by Anna Nagel
Laziness has no place on the campo; there is always more to do, from morning ‘till night. We helped with a variety of jobs, or at least tried our hardest. Cleaning potatoes went pretty well. As for fixing the chain-link fence, we were pretty useless. Other general areas of work included moving firewood, weeding garlic, shoveling manure, and Cole’s favorite, feeding the lambs. Sometimes our host parents worked with us, teaching us how to improve. In my case, that meant explaining multiple times the proper way to use a hoe. For Cole, the general theme was to put the animals down while working. But they had much else to do also, from checking on all of the sheep, to fixing the shower at their campsite, to traveling to Cochrane to prepare for a group of tourist.
Everything on the campo requires in-depth knowledge and attention to detail. Our host mom spent a long time explaining to us how sheep ranching works, from the cutting of the lamb tails to the selection for finer wool. She described the process of selling the hides and tagging each animal. When a sheep gave birth, she returned to ensure the lamb was able to get milk and to give the mother extra food. When the animals sensed a change, so did she. A clucking chicken alerted her to scare away a skunk and running sheep to look for a fox. Every day she counted the chicken and turkey chicks.
A newborn lamb takes shelter under Ñirre trees and her mother’s warmth. Photo by Cole Snyder
We still had time to eat a lot of delicious food and talk in the evenings with our host family. As expected, we ate a lot of lamb. The bread was substantially better than what we can buy in the local grocery store, the secret—it’s cooked in lamb fat. Our conversation topics ranged from the campesino lifestyle and work, to US politics, to the history of Chile, to religion—a large enough spread to get me thinking every night before trying to sleep. As it turned out, I was tired enough that my thoughts evaporated as soon as I closed my eyes.
I sincerely enjoyed my experience, but it would be a lie to say that I wish I were a campesino or I envy their lifestyle. If anything, it reminded me of how grateful that I have the opportunity to go to school. However, I have a tremendous amount of respect for their lifestyle and work ethic.
The mountains surrounding our campo. Photo by Anna Nagel