Spanish Stories

    A2Moderate · 6 min read · 594 words

    El intercambio chileno

    The Chilean Exchange

    A Spanish teenager on a school exchange in Valparaíso discovers that speaking Spanish doesn't mean understanding Chilean Spanish, and slowly turns a homesick semester into genuine belonging.

    Topics

    • travel
    • school
    • language
    • Chile

    Tap or hover any underlined word for its English meaning.

    Listen to the story

    Learner-paced · Spanish

    What you'll encounter

    Grammar
    First-person past narration (preterite and imperfect), Indirect object pronouns (me dijo, me preguntó), Reported yes/no questions (me preguntó si quería), Comparisons and time expressions (con el tiempo, por primera vez)
    Vocabulary
    Chilean expressions and slang (cachai, fome, bacán, po), Food vocabulary (completo, asado, palta), Feelings of homesickness and belonging
    Language skills
    Narrating a cultural and linguistic adjustment, Understanding regional vocabulary in context, Describing a change in feeling over time

    Cuando llegué a Valparaíso para pasar un semestre de intercambio, pensaba que hablar español ya era suficiente para entenderlo todo. desde el primer día.

    Show English
    When I arrived in Valparaíso to spend a semester abroad, I thought that speaking Spanish was already enough to understand everything. I was completely wrong from the very first day.

    Mi vivía en una casa de colores, como casi todas en esa ciudad, en una calle empinada con vistas al mar. Lorena, mi madre anfitriona, me recibió con un abrazo enorme. «¡Bienvenido, !», me dijo. Yo sonreí sin entender muy bien qué significaba esa palabra que repetía al final de casi todas las frases.

    Show English
    My host family lived in a colorful house, like almost every house in that city, on a steep street with ocean views. Lorena, my host mother, greeted me with a huge hug. "Welcome, po!" she said. I smiled without quite understanding what that word meant, the one she repeated at the end of almost every sentence.

    Nico, el hijo de la familia, tenía mi edad y se convirtió enseguida en mi guía por la ciudad y también por el idioma. El primer día de clase, me preguntó si quería ir a comprar «un completo» a la salida. Yo, pensando que hablaba de completar algún del colegio, le dije que prefería descansar primero. Nico se rió mucho. «Un completo es un hot dog, . Con , tomate y mayonesa. el colegio.»

    Show English
    Nico, the family's son, was my age and quickly became my guide to the city, and to the language too. On the first day of school, he asked me if I wanted to go buy "un completo" after class. Thinking he meant finishing some kind of school paperwork, I told him I'd rather rest first. Nico laughed a lot. "A completo is a hot dog, dude. With avocado, tomato, and mayonnaise. It has nothing to do with school."

    Durante las primeras semanas, apunté en una libreta cada palabra nueva que escuchaba: «» para preguntar si alguien entendía algo, «» para decir que algo era aburrido, «» para decir que algo era genial. En clase de historia, cuando no entendí ni una palabra de lo que explicaba el profesor, Nico me susurró: «¿Cachai?» Y yo, sin darme cuenta, contesté: «.» Toda la clase se rió, y el profesor también.

    Show English
    Over the first few weeks, I wrote down every new word I heard in a notebook: "cachai" to ask if someone understood something, "fome" to say something was boring, "bacán" to say something was great. In history class, when I didn't understand a single word the teacher was explaining, Nico whispered to me: "Cachai?" And without realizing it, I answered: "No cacho nada." The whole class laughed, and so did the teacher.

    Lo más difícil no fue el idioma, sino sentirme parte de algo nuevo. Las primeras semanas, llamaba a mis padres en España casi todas las noches, y a veces colgaba el teléfono con ganas de llorar. Extrañaba mi habitación, mis amigos, incluso las cosas que en España me parecían aburridas.

    Show English
    The hardest part wasn't the language, but feeling like part of something new. In the first weeks, I called my parents in Spain almost every night, and sometimes I hung up the phone wanting to cry. I missed my room, my friends, even the things that back in Spain had seemed boring to me.

    Todo empezó a cambiar el día del familiar. Lorena me invitó a ayudar a preparar la mesa, y los tíos y primos de Nico llegaron durante toda la tarde, uno detrás de otro, y todos me saludaban con mucho cariño, como a uno más de la familia. Nadie llegó a la hora exacta que me habían dicho, y al principio me pareció una falta de organización. Pero, con el tiempo, entendí que en Chile una invitación a las ocho de la noche podía significar perfectamente las nueve y media, y a nadie le molestaba.

    Show English
    Everything started to change the day of the family asado. Lorena invited me to help set the table, and Nico's aunts, uncles, and cousins arrived throughout the afternoon, one after another, all greeting me warmly, like one more member of the family. Nobody arrived at the exact time I'd been told, and at first it struck me as a lack of organization. But over time, I understood that in Chile, an invitation for eight at night could easily mean nine thirty, and it bothered no one.

    Otro día aprendí que no quería decir que alguien iba a dispararme, sino que llegaría enseguida. Y cuando Lorena me mandó a comprar algo , entendí que ya empezaba a pensar en chileno antes de traducir.

    Show English
    Another day I learned that if someone told me they'd arrive "al tiro," it didn't mean someone was about to shoot me, but that they'd arrive right away. And when Lorena sent me to buy something "a la vuelta de la esquina," I understood that I was already starting to think in Chilean before translating.

    Esa noche, sentado a la mesa con toda la familia, conté una historia sobre mi pueblo en España, y todos escucharon con atención, haciendo preguntas y riéndose en los momentos correctos. Por primera vez desde que había llegado, no sentí que estaba explicando mi vida a desconocidos, sino compartiéndola con gente que ya sentía como propia.

    Show English
    That night, sitting at the table with the whole family, I told a story about my hometown in Spain, and everyone listened closely, asking questions and laughing at all the right moments. For the first time since I'd arrived, I didn't feel like I was explaining my life to strangers, but sharing it with people who already felt like my own.

    Cuando terminó el semestre, hice una videollamada a mis padres para despedirme antes del vuelo de vuelta. «¿Cómo estuvo todo, hijo?», me preguntó mi madre. «Increíble, mamá», le contesté. «Cachai que no me quiero ir, ¿o no?» Mi madre se quedó callada un segundo, sin entender. «¿Qué has dicho?» Me reí solo, sin darme cuenta de que .

    Show English
    When the semester ended, I made a video call to my parents to say goodbye before the flight home. "How was everything, sweetheart?" my mother asked. "Amazing, Mom," I answered. "Cachai that I don't want to leave, or what?" My mother went quiet for a second, not understanding. "What did you just say?" I laughed to myself, not even realizing I already talked like just another Chilean.
    Show English translation

    When I arrived in Valparaíso to spend a semester abroad, I thought that speaking Spanish was already enough to understand everything. I was completely wrong from the very first day.

    My host family lived in a colorful house, like almost every house in that city, on a steep street with ocean views. Lorena, my host mother, greeted me with a huge hug. "Welcome, po!" she said. I smiled without quite understanding what that word meant, the one she repeated at the end of almost every sentence.

    Nico, the family's son, was my age and quickly became my guide to the city, and to the language too. On the first day of school, he asked me if I wanted to go buy "un completo" after class. Thinking he meant finishing some kind of school paperwork, I told him I'd rather rest first. Nico laughed a lot. "A completo is a hot dog, dude. With avocado, tomato, and mayonnaise. It has nothing to do with school."

    Over the first few weeks, I wrote down every new word I heard in a notebook: "cachai" to ask if someone understood something, "fome" to say something was boring, "bacán" to say something was great. In history class, when I didn't understand a single word the teacher was explaining, Nico whispered to me: "Cachai?" And without realizing it, I answered: "No cacho nada." The whole class laughed, and so did the teacher.

    The hardest part wasn't the language, but feeling like part of something new. In the first weeks, I called my parents in Spain almost every night, and sometimes I hung up the phone wanting to cry. I missed my room, my friends, even the things that back in Spain had seemed boring to me.

    Everything started to change the day of the family asado. Lorena invited me to help set the table, and Nico's aunts, uncles, and cousins arrived throughout the afternoon, one after another, all greeting me warmly, like one more member of the family. Nobody arrived at the exact time I'd been told, and at first it struck me as a lack of organization. But over time, I understood that in Chile, an invitation for eight at night could easily mean nine thirty, and it bothered no one.

    Another day I learned that if someone told me they'd arrive "al tiro," it didn't mean someone was about to shoot me, but that they'd arrive right away. And when Lorena sent me to buy something "a la vuelta de la esquina," I understood that I was already starting to think in Chilean before translating.

    That night, sitting at the table with the whole family, I told a story about my hometown in Spain, and everyone listened closely, asking questions and laughing at all the right moments. For the first time since I'd arrived, I didn't feel like I was explaining my life to strangers, but sharing it with people who already felt like my own.

    When the semester ended, I made a video call to my parents to say goodbye before the flight home. "How was everything, sweetheart?" my mother asked. "Amazing, Mom," I answered. "Cachai that I don't want to leave, or what?" My mother went quiet for a second, not understanding. "What did you just say?" I laughed to myself, not even realizing I already talked like just another Chilean.

    Vocabulary in this story

    Me equivoqué por completo
    I was completely wrong
    familia anfitriona
    host family
    po
    Chilean filler word added for emphasis, roughly like 'you know'
    trámite
    paperwork / procedure
    causa
    Chilean slang for 'dude/buddy'
    palta
    avocado
    No tiene nada que ver con
    it has nothing to do with
    cachai
    Chilean slang for 'you know?/get it?'
    fome
    Chilean slang for 'boring'
    bacán
    Chilean slang for 'great/cool'
    No cacho nada
    I don't get it at all (Chilean slang)
    asado
    barbecue
    al tiro
    right away
    a la vuelta de la esquina
    just around the corner
    ya hablaba como un chileno más
    I already talked just like another Chilean
    Comprensión(check what you understood)

    Answer a few quick questions about the story. This is just for you: there's no account or score saved.

    1. ¿Por qué se confundió el narrador cuando Nico le habló de "un completo"?
    2. Según el texto, ¿qué fue lo más difícil para el narrador al principio?
    3. ¿Qué aprendió el narrador sobre los horarios chilenos gracias al asado familiar?
    4. Al final de la historia, ¿de qué se da cuenta el narrador al hablar con su madre?