It was the scent of tear gas that brought me back to Santiago — or rather, the sight of it on recent news reports chronicling the upheaval in the Chilean capital. The protests there are another flashpoint in our age of discontent. Yet for me they are also a reminder of the semester I spent at the University of Chile in Santiago 27 years ago. It turned out to be a formative experience in my life.
I had not planned on Chile for my semester abroad. Like so many other students, I was drawn to Italy and the fuzzy notion of returning to university knowing a few things about churches and paintings and wine. As it happened, my school, Rice University, had a relationship with the University of Chile and so it was easier — and more affordable — to go there.
What a fascinating place to end up. Chile had just completed the handover to civilian rule, although Augusto Pinochet still controlled the military and everyone understood where power resided. The feelings of anxiety and hope were visceral — especially for a child of 1980s America, accustomed to the belief that people were generally good and that being American conveyed an extra layer of protection wherever you went.