Mapuche Who?

In southern Chile, there is a group of indigenous people known as the Mapuches. They’re frustrated with the government for not caring enough about their traditions. I experienced their hostility on a P-day during my mission. I was in Osorno, the biggest “city” in our mission, on New Year’s Eve. We went downtown to mail letters home, and as we walked into the post office I noticed a Mapuche demonstration next door, outside the civic center. There were 100 people or so, some standing and some chanting and yelling. They were playing music, and some were even dressed in traditional Mapuche clothing. I thought nothing of it—just the other day a member was telling us there was always a “civil” demonstration going on.

So my companion and I are waiting in line, the window to the post office is open, and the music and chants continue. We’re almost to the counter when we hear a big “POP!” outside, and soon smoke starts filling the room. People are coughing and I feel this tight burning feeling in my throat. It was tear gas. I grab my poor greenie companion and we rush outside. People are everywhere—cops with gas masks, bystanders, Mapuches—there was so much gas and my eyes were so teary I could barely see. My ears were ringing and I felt shaky.

When we got to fresh air, we propped ourselves against a wall trying to recompose. We called the elders; they were not helpful. A member ran into us and laughed as we wiped our tears and blew our noses. He wasn’t surprised at the protest and told us to rub lemon juice on our faces to feel better.

In hindsight, it seemed funny to me that something so chaotic from my perspective seemed normal to another person. It was an isolated situation that only affected those near the incident. The rest of the city went about it's day as usual, as though the Mapuches weren’t even there.