Step one: Induce gringo mania

<b>Impressions from Chile: A gringo teaches in the Southern Hemisphere</b>
<i>This is the first report from local Rob Jackson, who is spending the next few months volunteering as an English teacher in South America. He can be reached at rob.jacksonian@gmail.com.</i>

The Chilean Ministry of Education's new crop of 60 volunteers stick out like dachshunds in a herd of alpaca.

After a tedious day of orientation, mack in the middle of Santiago, Chile, the group breaks for the festive nightlife of the city, and evoke images of the pack mentality that causes misunderstanding between cultures around the globe. Fortunately for us, the curious stares from locals and sputtering conversations impeded by language barriers turn more favorable when our mission is exposed. Upon recognizing our goal to "open doors" through the English language, the citizens of Santiago answer our questions and help us on our way.

A welcome ceremony at the modern, glass-encased United Nations building on the day of our arrival yielded enough goose-bump moments to mask the fatigue of our redeye flights. Nightly Spanish lessons help us to better understand the "Chilenismos" smattered frequently throughout the Spanish here and make the language tough to decipher. And soothing glasses of wine shared in the midst of tiki torches, palm trees and screaming red umbrellas on the patio of our four-story international hostel ease the onset of our total immersion.

For every instance in which we wear our wine at 2 a.m., or blow pesos due to deficient Spanish and terrible currency conversion skills, and for every moment we convey gems of the English language to our future students, we learn from our mistakes and the most unlikely of resources - such as the local street dogs. In comparison to American dogs, the street dogs are dirty, unkempt, intrusive into public privacy and belligerent scavengers of food. Nonetheless, American dogs are not nearly as savvy. Our dogs are spoiled. The street dogs of Santiago prosper and gain intellect from the grittiness of their existence. Makes me wonder why those from the States are given the world, yet many still howl at the moon?

My mother will be proud to hear that some of what I learn here is not from vagabond animals, but through the escapades of others. On one warm and starry night, I headed "home" at a reasonable hour while my companions prolonged their evening of debauchery in the bars of Santiago. The night tore right along before it came to a screeching halt.

The off-duty Chilean police officer from whom my four compatriots accepted a ride from bar to hostel blasted techno music and promptly backed his jeep square into a sturdy tree. He proceeded to slam the car straight forward, over the curb and into a street sign. My friends clamored for an escape as the officer spun his wheels fruitlessly in the middle of a flower bed.

Lingering visualizations of these exploits and my delight in making the right decision still make my day, as do thoughts of our daytime excursions into Chile's vivacious schools.

Our "observations" of local students and teachers are reciprocated by the children 10-fold. We enter any given school and are poked and prodded like cattle at a 4-H fair. The younger students, clad neatly in blue or grey suits and ties for the boys, and skirts, sweaters and stockings of like colors for the girls, nearly fall flat on their backs when we stroll through the expansive interiors of their open air, two-story schools. Our egos blast into orbit. We pose for cell-phone cameras and sign autographs. Our mere essence of being is as alien to the Chilean kids as a surfboard to an Ohioan.

The lucky amongst us are invited to join indigenous dances with children garnished only in grass skirts, body paint and coconut bras in front of hundreds of giggling students, teachers and friends. Although awkward and red-faced, we grit our teeth and bear the embarrassment of the moment because it offers a rare chance to release our perpetual inner-child.

After all the hoopla of Santiago, the next step in our journey is to part ways from the group and the big city to live out our dreams in a whole new reality in the schools of Chile.

If all involved have taken anything from our first two weeks in Chile it may be that "gringomania" has struck in a huge way, and there is no sign of a slump any time soon.