Saturday morning started out with a Dario Salas parade en el centro to celebrate our schools’ (four in all) anniversary — 80 years as a corporation and 25 years in education. When I asked the exact date I was told all of November. And so it is…we’ve been celebrating in one form or another for weeks. CDS takes school spirit to its zenith. Students have been collecting bottles caps since September 25th — chapitas y tapas de bebidas o jugos de Coca Cola — competing between classes for the most caps, between the four colegios, and between other secondary schools in the country. I don’t know our status yet….I just wish I had taken photos of the garbage barrels overflowing with bottle caps accumulated by Cuarto Medio alone, the senior class. Other activities include elections of a king and a queen for each grade level, a poetry and composition contest, art exhibitions, singing contests, dance contests, and sports events. The culminating event, la Fiesta de Coronación, is on November 29th. Life at school might seem rather ho hum after this. Fortunately, the school year ends for students on December 14th. 
Well back to the parade, composed of staff and students and cheered on by the community of parents, students who didn’t want to be on duty on a Saturday, and other CDS supporters. I was told to be at the Plaza de Armas at 11 am, so I showed up at 11:45 (finally getting the hang of Chilean time) with plenty of time to socialize, laugh, and set a lighthearted tone. Our school was first in the line up that extended five blocks behind us, which we were all grateful for because the sun was brutal. Once the parade commenced our practice session in precision marching was forgotten by all as we slipped into an easy stroll, barely able to keep our horizontal rows intact. We marched for 100 meters before we reached the end of our route. The parade coincided beautifully with an aerial show performance that began minutes earlier. It looked made to order. Afterwards Dan and I went home to change and go on to the Victor Jara Arts Festival which promised poetry readings, a photography exhibit, and lots of great music. Victor Jara is a Chilean folksinger and left-wing political activist who was tortured and murdered in the Stadium days after the September 11, 1973 military coup. We count ourselves among his fans. When we mentioned to our colleagues that we were going to the festival, one in particular said that we’d encounter the Partido Comunista there. The prospects for meeting some of Chillán’s lefties really appealed to us. Alas, when we arrived we found ourselves surrounded by hoards of youth dressed in black. First we felt old, then redeemed when we spotted grey hair among the crowd gathering in front of the stage. We were just too early - a common refrain - so we left for a while, but not before some of the same CDS students who were marching in uniform earlier that day flagged us down. They too went home to change and were wearing drab clothes and sporting their Fidel Castro caps. We exchanged polite greetings and all of us tried (unsuccessfully) to hide our surprise at the encounter.
When we returned a few hours later the music was just about to begin. Fortunately a friend saved us seats because there were none to be had otherwise. And yeah, the crowd was multi-generational, from the elderly in wheel chairs to the pre-kinder set. We learned that the guest of honor was the Cuban Ambassador. He and his party were ushered into the VIP area with lots of fanfare. Soon we were grooving with the music, which, like the audience, was the full spectrum of diversity. When one of my students came on stage with the energy of a jet engine I almost fell off my chair. He appeared to be levitating while singing a rap version of Victor Jara’s Manifesto. Wow! In that moment I saw him in a new light. In school he’s the poster boy for disaffected youth…usually late for class, sneering when his face is visible, otherwise presenting the top of his head with spiked and gnarly hair, down on his desk. Everything about him screams I don’t want to be here. We videoed his performance and I gave him the CD on Monday at school...he was grateful and pleased that we appreciated his talent. He explained that he’s not doing a practicum or going on to college after he graduates in December; he’s moving to Santiago to find his way there. I wish him luck. Additional highlights included students from other classes who sought us out to say hello and informed us that they would be playing later on in the evening. We stayed until 11 pm and missed them — the festival went on until 3 am. Here’s an excerpt from Manifesto:
Yo no canto por cantar
ni por tener buena voz
canto porque la guitarra
tiene sentido y razón
tiene corazón de tierra
I don't sing for love of singing
or to show off my voice
but for the statements
made by my honest guitar
for its heart is of earth
