My name is Peter Michael O'Donnell.
I am a student at Centre College and a current student of International Studies with a minor in Politics and Latin American Studies.
The premise of this essay is to express my emotion about my homeland.
For those of you who don't know me, I hail from the amazing city of Santiago de Chile. I am a citizen of Chile and the United States.
In a private hospital in the neighborhood of Providencia, on a cool autumn day in April, I was born. My Chilean mother and my American father welcomed me into the world, along with the multitude of my mother's family. As much as I was physically created by the biological process and such, I also consider myself born from my country itself.
Before I continue, let me spit some facts about my amazing country. La Republíca de Chile was founded on September 18th, 1810, after a lengthy battle for independence from Spain. The country itself is categorized as a long sliver of land that extends from the northern most regions touching Perú to the southern most regions making the tip of South America. It is a skinny country bordered by the Andes Mountains on the eastern side and the Pacific Ocean to the west. The landscape changes drastically depending where in the country you are. In the North, there is the driest desert on Earth: The Mighty Atacama. In the Central part of the country, there is the so called "breadbasket." Here, many of the fresh produce and wine is centered. In the South, there is Patagonia and the many fjords that seem to dissipate into the Southern Pacific Ocean.
I was born in Santiago, the capital and the very center of Chile. As Chile's biggest city, it is the economic and political powerhouse of the nation. For the early part of my life, I lived in the neighborhood of Las Condes, a very affluent part of Santiago. Both my parents were successful teachers. My father taught at a very prominent international school that catered to many ex-pats and their families. My mother taught at a very prestigious private school. We lived in a very quiet neighborhood, in a house with a very nice yard. I remember living here, but not a lot. You see, when I was about the age of four, my father decided to move our family from the comforts of Santiago to the mysterious (and scary) Boston. I think leaving at a young age both helped me and hurt me.
The move helped me, as I was able to learn English as my first language and grow up with a lot of opportunities to meet so many new people and cultures. Chile is a pretty homogenous place, with everybody sharing the common Chilean identity. In the US I learned to be open-minded and explore new cultures and traditions. I met my new family, all my dad's extended family. It was here I developed my Irish-American identity.
However, the move also hurt me. I was forcibly removed from the country that made me. I was removed from the beautiful Andes Mountains and the delicious produce from the Central Valley. I was removed from my language and culture. Moving to the US meant a lot of sacrifice on the part of my mom. It was not only me and my brother who had to learn English, but she did as well. And because of that, English became the first language of our household.
We were also removed from our people. Besides one of my mom's cousins and a few family friends, we were the only Chileans living in MA, especially Boston. According to Wikipedia, "The Chilean population at the 2010 US Census was 126,810. In the United States, Chileans are the fourth smallest Hispanic group from South America and the fifth smallest overall amongst all Hispanic groups." 126,810 for a country with the population of over 300,000,000 people in 2010. The article continues to state that the Chilean ex-pat community is spread out all over the US, meaning we don't have a common neighborhood. Sure there are few Chilean bakeries in New York, but none in the Boston area.
Chile is a place of wonder, and I think that is why I miss it so much. Chile is a place of education and creativity, as noted with prominent poets such as Gabriela Minstral and Pablo Neruda. Their works make me extremely proud to be from the illustrious nation. Their works have also helped me find my identity, as their writings talk about the very nature, connecting the Chilean identity with the environment around us. The landscape itself makes me miss it but more. From the amazing Valle de La Luna to Valle de Elquí to the plains of Patagonia, Chile's landscape has helped shape my identity. The resistance of the Chilean spirit, as shown through the recovery efforts of the 2010 8.8 earthquake to the 33 miners that were saved from after spending 69 underground.
Being Chilean goes beyond just an aspect of my identity. It strikes deep into my soul. I like to think of my hair as the vast Andes Mountains, my brown eyes representing the vast forests of Patagonia, my semi-tan skin representing the rocky lands in the North. Being born in Chile means being born with the land.
Whenever I feel homesick, I listen to the song La Retirada.
It provides me solace and hope that I will visit Chile once again to reunite mother with child.
