Sunglasses in the Rain

A few days ago I was walking to my go-to cafe: the Colombian gem Juan Valdez. I was walking in the rain. My umbrella protecting my freshly washed hair from frizz (ha, like that's even possible) and my sunglasses protecting my squinty eyes from the sun. Yes, the sun was out and yet the rain was pouring down. I smiled at the backwardness of the situation. The juxtaposition. This country is like that sometimes. Seemingly backwards, and yet my gringo friends and I are the only ones that really notice. To Colombia, this is normal.

I can bring this to life with a single phrase that I hear quite frequently, "Si pero no." ...yes, but no. What does this even mean? Are you affirming something or negating it? Or maybe you just don't want to form an opinion? I kind of like the indecisiveness of it. But it's backwards.

Let's talk about another backwardness.  A few weeks ago the presidential elections were on Sunday. Per Colombian law, alcohol cannot be sold during an election weekend. That means no sales Saturday or Sunday. That is unless there is a World Cup game. Saturday Colombia played Greece (and won 3-0!) and I can assure you that there were plenty of alcohol sales occurring. Some things are more important than Colombian law....Colombian futbol! Now that's a little backwards.

That brings us to another backwardsness related to the elections. That Sunday was Father's day. But Colombia didn't want to double dip and have Father's day on Election day so they just moved Father's day. No big deal. It was the following Sunday instead. Backwards.

The Way of Colombian Men

 There are some things I really enjoy about my work week.  One is my morning coffee time in the staff room from 7:00-7:25. It’s pretty much fantastic.  It consists of sitting around a table with some of my favorite co-workers, sipping coffee and talking about nothing of much significance.  Well, it is significant though because it brings us together.  The regulars are as follows:  Leo, the lovable and sometimes vulgar Colombian chemistry teacher; Andrew, the coffee-making, good-natured, super friendly science/math Canadian teacher;  Steve, the witty, tea-drinking, “I do what I want” American English teacher; And last but not least, Bill, the intelligent and thoughtful grandfather figure social studies teacher.  Every morning our crew is there until the bell summons us to really start the day.

Leo walks in this morning, looks at me and exclaims, “hello gorgeous woman.” He threw in another admiration but I’ve since pushed it out of my working memory. These comments don’t mean much to me anymore. It’s the way of Colombian men. They have no reserve when it comes to praising women. Americans might attribute such compliments as flirting, but in reality it’s far from it. Leo is happily living with his girlfriend.  Another example, Alvarito (the 50 year old physics teachers) telling me daily that he’s in love with me and I’m the most beautiful woman in the world.  Turn the corner and he’s saying the same thing to Laura. Colombian men are smooth-talkers and quick to tell women how beautiful they are.  I remember Leo telling me once, “You have a lot of men telling you nice things.”  My response, “Yeah, but they’re saying the same nonsense to every other woman as well.” He quizzically looked at me, “You’re a smart girl.”  I’ll repeat myself: it’s the way of Colombian men. (okay, case in point:  no joke, as I’m sitting in my room writing this, our security guard, Jaime, peeks in my room, “Good morning beautiful . You look great in yellow. It’s like you are brilliant as the sun. And when the sun sets and it is night then you will shine like the moon and the stars. Even more, like the planets. Have a great day beautiful.”  Jaime, thanks for proving my point.)

Another way of the Colombian man: they LOVE to dance. And can they ever dance. It is a stark contrast to the stiffness and reluctance of American men to get on the floor.  Going to staff parties is always so much fun because as soon as the Latin music starts (salsa, merengue, bachata, etc.) people are up dancing. Initially I was so uncomfortable because I was kind of like a tree when it comes to dancing. Meaning I didn't dance.  Now I just relax and have fun. The men know how to lead so all I have to do is silently count the steps, move my hips, and be pulled along. By the end of the night my calves will be aching from being on tip-toe and my cheeks will be hurting from smiling and laughing the night away. Dancing. It’s the way of Colombian men.

One last way of Colombian men that is shocking to me in regard to personal hygiene: they shave their armpits and get manicures and pedicures. When I found this out I couldn't stop laughing. In the United States you sacrifice your man-card by doing these things. Here, it’s completely acceptable and quite common. Colombians care a lot about appearance and therefore do what it takes to stay well groomed. I won’t say all Colombian men do it, but it’s definitely not an abnormality.

Oh Colombia, you've made some pretty fantastic men!