A Smile That is Hard to Erase

One of the reasons I love living here in Northern Chile is the great variety of personalities represented in the people who live here.

Truly, the culture we enjoy in Northern Chile is as diverse as the history of this region, and by reason of Zofri and the multinational customers it serves, we enjoy a variety of cultures from all over the world.

I love the people of Northern Chile. They make me smile.

I met an Iquiqueno during my first week in Iquique years ago who had that effect on me. As I was leaving the Zofri Mall, I encountered a very friendly gentleman on the curb named ‘Sanchez’ selling DVDs of recent movies. To my surprise, I noticed that he had “The Passion of the Christ” available for purchase, for only one luca! “¿Que onda?” I said, and went on to ask him how it was possible that he had movie available before it was released in the theaters, and how he could sell it for only one luca. “It’s pirated” he replied, with the kind of enthusiasm that great salesmen display when they know they have a great product at a great price.

“But Sanchez,” I replied,  “are you not aware that selling pirated DVDs is against the law, and that you are essentially robbing Mel Gibson, and thousands of others in the EEUU and Inglaterra who work hard to produce movies like this?” I inquired. He just shrugged his shoulders, and smiled even bigger at me.

I had to admit, this guy was very charming. So I continued, “Look” I said, “I know a couple guys in this mall who are looking for workers. You could get a real job, and stop working in crime.”

“No thanks,” he replied, still grinning, “I like my job and what I do.”

We debated this a few more minutes, and when it was clear to me that Sanchez was not going to take advantage of the opportunities I mentioned, in exasperation I said, “Fine. If you are happy with your life as a lazy thief, great. Caio!”

As I was about to turn and leave, I noticed that the ever-present smile on Sanchez’ face had turned to a frown, and that he was upset.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him.

“You offended me.” He replied.

“I offended you because I called you a thief?” I said.

“No, of course not.” Replied Sanchez. “I am a thief, no question about that. I am offended because you called me lazy. Lazy I am not! I work here everyday without fail.”

I laughed so hard I thought I would explode! Only here in the North can you find happy, content thieves who take pride in their work-ethic.

Sanchez has long since left Iquique, looking for better pastures I guess. That the memory of Sanchez to this day brings a smile to my face, (and lots of laughs whenever I tell the story) does not change the fact that, apart from his enthusiasm and gregarious attitude which I enjoyed, he still was living his life in a misguided, wasteful way. For even if you think that Sanchez was clever, the truth is that God has far greater things in mind for Sanchez than just living hand-to-mouth, day to day, violating the law just to earn enough for the next meal. God’s plan is that we “have life, and have it abundantly.”

I understand what it is to not have any money, and to wonder where your next meal will come from. I’ve been broke and out of work twice in my life, and it is not easy.

But everyone of us, regardless of our religious upbringing, ultimately has to answer one question each day: “Am I going to be a blessing, or a curse today?” Put another way, “Am I going to do things that please God today, or offend Him?” Because no matter if you were raised Catholic, Evangelical, Islamic, Hindu, or Buddhist, all the world’s major religions say the same thing: “Thou shalt not steal.”

It starts with each of us individually.

The other day, I tried to park in front of the Post Office in Iquique, when a very nice woman informed me that the spot was reserved. I said “I’m only going mail a letter, can I just park here for 2 minutes?” She said “OK”, but then I remembered my thesis. “It’s up to me,” I said to myself. I restarted my car, and moved it to legal parking about a block away. It cost me no more than an extra minute, and probably no one would have known or cared that I “broke the law”. But ultimately I had to decide, “Do I want Iquique to be a place where everyone does whatever the hell they want, or a place where we respect each other and the rule of law?”

Do you park where it says no parking? Are you taking electricity that doesn’t belong to you? Do you take supplies from the office home? Do you cheat and pay a bribe to get your smoking, sputtering auto through revision technica?

When we decide to play by the rules, to respect authority, to obey the laws of Chile as well as the law of God, something amazing happens. Things begin to change. God starts blessing us. We feel better about ourselves. We earn more. We live more. We smile more.  

But we don’t smile the smile of a clever thief. We smile the smile of a person who is blessed by God. And that smile is hard to erase.

The Tradition of Generosity in Northern Chile

A few nights ago in La Huayca, the little town next to our ranch,  I had my heart melted again by a little 9-year old regalona named Vierita, a gifted and super sweet daughter of a friend of ours who lives there in the pueblo. For some reason, Vierita took a liking to me early on, and for the past 5 years or so, whenever she would spot me, she’d run full speed with her arms wide open to give me a huge, almost violent hug.

Now I’m like most men born during the “baby boom”, in that I was raised by family members in a machismo era, who believed erroneously that “real” men should not display emotions, or cry. So the first couple times that little Viera ran up to give me a giant, arms-akimbo hug, I was sort of stiff. But it didn’t take long for Vierita to melt my crusty old man’s heart, and soon, I started looking forward to those hugs. Today, I consider a hug from this precious 9-year old like a gift better than mote con huesillo on a hot day!

Most people in the North are like Vierita – very generous. I’m convinced that if you took an XRAY of the veins of an average Iquiqueno’s arm, in addition to seeing red and white cells coursing through their arteries, you’d also find compassion and generosity running along side. People in the North are givers, and the philosophy of “giving to those in need” is part and parcel of our heritage, and part of what makes this region so special.

It’s also one of the reasons why in Alto Hospicio and Iquique, we have so many traffic delays at rotundas -- We pay our street performers well, and we let them do their little dances and shows even if it means missing the next green light!   Regardless of the talent or lack thereof, anyone who needs a little extra money and can juggle two balls in the air, do a cartwheel, or simply paint their face up like a clown, knows that in this part of Chile, they’ll get paid. That’s all because we are a generous people.

There is a rotunda near Playa Brava that I pass frequently, and often the same older white haired gentleman dressed in a clean brown suit is there asking for a little monetary help. I liked this guy right away, and we often talk briefly about his former life in the military, and days of Allende and Pinochet.  I usually always give him a gamba or two, but on this particular day, I decided to do a little experiment. As he came up to my window to greet me with his engaging smile and his hand extended, I held out my hand, as if to say “you have anything for me today?” He smiled, looked down at the quina in his hand that a guy in a red truck had just given him, straightened his shoulders, and then simply handed those 500 pesos to me.  I knew it was a genuine display of generosity, because the light changed to green and I pretended to drive away. He just smiled and waved, as if it was his delight to give me that money, no questions asked.

Of course after just a few meters I stopped my car, pulled over, and explained what I was doing. “My friend”, I said, “I just wanted to see if you were a giver as well as receiver. You passed the test! Because you were willing to part with 500 pesos” I said as I reached into my wallet, “here are 5000 more” and with that I handed him a Gabriela. With that the light changed again, and I sped away, seeing my friend in the suit in my rear view mirror, jumping up and down waving at me with both hands.

I was not much of a macho man that day, because for the next 1000 meters as I drove down the costanera, I was crying tears of joy.  “God” I said through snotty sobs, “thank you for bringing us to this warm, loving culture, where even homeless men who have nothing, still know the power and pleasure of giving.”

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