Rumba on a Tuesday Night

It's late and I don't feel like writing much, but I just had the most interesting taxi experiences. So here I am at 9:30 on a school night sitting here writing instead of sleeping. Yes, I understand 9:30 doesn't seem late, but when one wakes up at 5:20 anything past 9:00 is pushing it. I would dare to challenge anyone who might say otherwise.

I went to a friends house tonight and as it got late I asked her portero to order me a taxi. I waited a few minutes in the lobby and before I knew it my lovely yellow cab pulled up. As I walked to the car, the taxi driver had reached his hang back and opened the door for me. I smiled. I got in the taxi and told him the neighborhood I lived in and what my building was called. He knew the general location, so off we went.

At this point everything is still normal. He cuts right at the Mimos ice cream shop (a shortcut I've become acacquainted with) and began to snake left to my road when all of a sudden we realized the road was blocked. What? Oh, no big deal, just a street dance on a Tuesday night. Seems like reason enough to close down the one way street we needed. Only in Colombia. The next block up was a parallel street, but it was a one-way going the wrong direction. So what does my taxi driver do? Turn around? Nope, too logical. Instead he puts the car in reverse and starts going backward down the one way street. Ha! He looks at me and tells me "Pretty interesting ride, right reina (queen)?". I just laugh and turn around to make sure no cars are coming. Coast is clear and we're still driving in reverse. We get to the next intersection and he asks me if my building is down that road. Nope. Next he whips the car around and declares, "Screw it. We're going backwards down the one way."

Reality check: he didn't really say screw it. I don't even know how to say that in Spanish...maybe I'll ask my kids tomorrow. Either way, he did turn us around and we zoomed up the one way.

Before long the street turned back into a 2 way and we were in the clear. Ha! Awesome. That street dance has nothing on daring taxi drivers! Well, I gave him directions to my apartment and not long after I arrived safely in front of my building. Getting out I just grinned. What a great way to end the night. He charged me the standard $4800. I paid him $5000 and told him to keep the change. He told me he'd enjoy a nice cup of coffee!

Taxi rides prove to be interesting in Colombia.

Drugs or Coffee

When people found out that I was moving to Colombia, there were 2 standard responses: (1) don't they have a lot of drugs there?! (2) Isn't the coffee there incredible!?

I have yet to experience first hand the drug scene (and I pray I don't) but today I got the full picture of the coffee. A few teachers and I went to a small town called Salento this weekend. We stayed at a hostel and the owners told us there was a small finca (farm) near by that grew coffee and the farmer would give us a tour. All we had to do was follow this dirt road about 45 minutes through the mountains and we would arrive at the farm of Don Elias.

So we started walking. And we walked. And we walked. And we took some pictures. And we walked. And we walked. And we took some more pictures. and we walked...At least the majority was downhill through breathtaking scenery.

Within an hour we reached the coffee farm. Now this wasn't some corporation with 100s of machines doing all the work, but rather a small farm on 4 hectors of land (yeah, I don't know how big that is either, but that's what Don Elias told us) in the middle of the Colombian Andes. When we arrived Don Elias greeted us and was pleased that we made the trek out to see his farm. Don Elias was a pleasant man in his late 60s with white hair and more teeth missing than were present. He wore the traditional Colombian farmer clothes topped off by a quaint little sombrero. He was the cutest thing!
Although he didn't speak a lick of English, he spoke Spanish clearly and slowly enough that we were all able to understand everything he was explaining and we even were asking him questions. Success of the day!

The tour began at the early stages of coffee production: the coffee plant. He walked us throughout the farm and showed us the difference between different strains of coffee and the different stages of ripeness. It was awesome slipping amongst all the coffee trees. After walking through the plants he brought us back to the "processing area"  where he removed the actual coffee bean from the fruit. (At this point, if you don't know what I'm talking about, google coffee production real quick and you'll get the idea.) Anyway, for this step he puts all the fruits in a meat-grinder type machine and spins an arm. The beans go flying through the machine and the flesh part is discarded (when I say discarded I mean put back in the ground to be fertilizer for the plants). It was super cool. From there he washes all the beans and then brings them to dry. Now, without machines, how do you suppose he dries out the bean? With the power of the sun. He had a platform built in which he just dumped the beans out to dry. He explained that he has to come out and "stir" the beans with a rake-like-tool so they dry evenly. Supposedly, when it's sunny, this process takes about 8 days, but during the rainy season it can take up to 25 days! Talk about patiently waiting for an end product.

Once the coffee bean is completely dried, the husk has to be removed from the bean. To do this, he put the beans in a contraption that irritated the bean enough to have the husk fall off. Then he put the beans in a bowl and blew on it while shaking it until the husk was carried away by the wind. It was astonishing watching him work. At the end of this step we saw the dried beans ready for roasting. For this, he put the beans in a metal bowl and put it on top of a cast iron wood stove. Don Elias explained that the perfect roast is about 1 hour but that he has to pay attention to the color and texture of the bean to be certain. Upon roasting the beans he put them in a tabletop machine to grind them. The aroma was to die for!

The last step of the process was to enjoy a cup of fresh Colombian coffee; the fruits of this man's labor. Don Elias invited us to his porch where we all sat sipping fresh Colombian coffee. Pure bliss! For all of you coffee-loving readers out there, I would have loved to have any one of you there with me! It was quite the experience....and actually, for you non-coffee-loving fold - I'd want you there too!

A few things amazed me more than anything: (1) Don Elias is extremely passionate about his coffee. We couldn't help but notice it as he answered our questions and explained the processes to us. It just radiated from him (2) Everything was done by hand - what a neat thing to see. (3) The tour cost me $5000 pesos, which is about $3 dollars. (4) The scenery alone would have been worth it (5) The coffee was INCREDIBLE! Whew. It's probably one of the best cups I've had in my life...the ambiance may have something to do with it, but hey - that's alright :)

Buñuelos Dias Friday

When I was doing my student teaching last year in the United States I had a ritual on Fridays of going early to get coffee before school at a café called Biggby and reading my bible. It was something I always looked forward to at the end of the week. I coined the term: “Biggby Friday”. Ohhhh! It was always such a nice way to end the week. It was so nice, in fact, I’ve decided to bring it to Colombia. Small problem: we don’t have Biggby here. Solution: Buñuelos Dias instead.

Buñuelos Dias is a little restaurant down the road from my house that is right along our school bus route. It specializes in these circular doughnut things called buñuelos.  Imagine a non-sweet doughnut hole with a hint of cheese flavor and a little bit of salt. I don’t particularly like them, but most people would kill for a buñuelo. So, here’s my new ritual. Leave my apartment early, go to Buñuelos Dias, order a coffee, scrambled eggs with an arepa, and 15 buñuelos to take with me to school to share. While waiting for my buñuelos I eat my scrambled eggs, drink my coffee and read my bible. It is straight awesomeness and pretty cheap. My breakfast costs me a mere $1.75 and the added buñuelos to share bring the bill just under $6. I’d say that’s worth it!

Today as I participated in “Buñuelos Dias Friday” several things were brought to my attention that made me grin. Here is the list:

1. As I walked down the street, a school bus drove by with a few children already on board. The peculiar thing was there were playboy bunny stickers covering the windows…on a school bus? Only in Colombia. 
2. I passed 2 gentleman talking to each other and said “Buenos días” (good morning)…they responded “Buenos días Niña” (good morning girl)…it doesn’t translate well in English. BUT it shows that although I just had a birthday and am a whopping 23 now, I can still be called a girl! Woooo hooo
3. I almost tripped and fell…for the 5^th time this week. Most of the time I’m walking next to someone and they laugh. It makes me smile. Today I was all alone and almost broke my ankle. Lol. That did not make me smile
4. My sister and Zach sent me a package and last night when I packed my bag I put a packet of sixlets in my backpack. As I was walking, I remember this and it made me smile: today is going to be a good day! 
5.  For the past 6 days I have been suffering from the Colombian flu and basically felt like death. Today was the first morning I did not think once, “Wow, I feel like death”. …well I didn’t think it until I realized I hadn’t thought it, then I thought it…but I didn’t think it because I felt it..I just thought it. Do you follow? Lol. 
6.  As I was eating my breakfast a lady walked by to buy some buñuelos and said hello and something else in Spanish that roughly translates, “Good morning, I remember you here last week.” Score! …I remembered her too. I had learned a new way to say “How are you this morning” in Spanish and she had said it to the workers last week at Buñuelos Dias on my first “Buñuelos Dias Friday”. I was excited that I remembered the phrase, understood her using it, and gathered meaning from the exchange. By now we are basically friends. 
7.  My scrambled eggs were delicious. Just delicious. They had a wonderful buttery flavor and paired with an arepa were just fantastic. The best way to describe an arepa is to call it a circular flat-bread made with corn flour. Arepas are a staple here

So those are my thoughts from my second “Buñuelos Dias Friday”. I’d say it was a success! See you next week Señor Buñuelos.

Halloween Colmbian Style

Today is Halloween! Wooo hoo!! Colombians LOVE Halloween. I mean Love. Love. Love. They love getting dressed up and having a reason to throw a party. This past weekend was absolutely nuts. So many bars, night clubs, restaurants, stores, etc. threw Halloween parties I couldn’t even keep track of them all. Not that I had any desire to go to any , but still, I would have liked to see a total count of celebrations by the end of the weekend.

At school today we also threw our own little celebration. The kids were permitted to forego their usual uniforms and rock whatever they wanted. Wow. I think I saw it all. Even high schools were cool enough to put on some incredible costumes. There were Disney princesses, Zelda, army men, flappers, Jack Sparrow, Hawaiian women, ninjas, and so many more. I got such a kick seeing all the students get so involved.

Best costume award?  One of my 10^th graders dressed up as Deadmau5. Seriously. It was legit. I didn’t exactly know who Deadmau5 was, but the costume was great none-the-less. I googled him and found out that he’s a famous electronic DJ who always wears this mouse costume. Google it and you will see exactly what one of my students looked like. Crazy awesome!

Forced exercise for the sick girl

Feeling sick is never fun. Faking sick can be - depending on what you get out of as a result, but truly feeling sick is not.That is where I'm at today: sick and exhausted. I don't know what I've contracted, but I'm sure taking a beating from it.

Since I've been here I've really loved the fact that I have to walk everywhere. I have no other choice but to exercise. Grocery shopping? 10 minutes. Going to the place I love  to buy fruit? 15 minutes. To catch the bus to school? 7.5 minutes. Hanging out with people? At least 5. And remember, it's all up and down hill too, so double the benefit! Today was the first day in 3 months where I wished I had a car.  Our school had a performance at a mall "close by" and I had told the music teacher and the other foreigners that I'd be there. I'm kind of anti-taxi because I don't want to get lazy or waste money, so I had to walk. Each step took more effort than the last and I felt like I was walking through molasses. How convenient would a car be. Seriously. Well, I don't have one so I kept walking. Mean while my mind was wandering all over the place. I thought I might pass out. Ick. Feeling sick is not fun. 15 minutes of walking did bring me to the correct  though and after seeing some students, I'm glad I went.

While walking, I remembered a blog post I meant to write a long time ago regarding high-heeled shoes. Women here LOVE their high heels. I'm not talking about 3 or 4 inch, but rather 5-7. It is crazy. Especially considering this city is in the mountains and every street has an incline. I don't know how they do it. Most women are rather short though, so at least it brings them up to my level and I don't feel like such a giant. If I put on a pair or those heels I would tower over everyone  (males and females already with their 6 inch heel enhancement) No thank you! Every once in a while I consider buying a pair, but then I sober up and challenge myself, "If you can come up with one good reason to buy a pair, then go for it."

I have yet to come up with the reason so I have yet to buy a pair of stilts!

I told you 30 minutes!

I really like the apartment building I live in and one of the reasons is that I have awesome porteros. Porteros are men who guard the entrance to the building, take care of all the mail, will call taxis to come, open the door for everyone, call me when there's a visitor to make sure I know who they are, etc. The list goes on and on. I'm fairly certain they know every person in the building including (but not limited to) their kids, their pets, their vehicles, their eating habits and their daily routine. I'm serious. These men are incredible. Almost every apartment building has them. In my building there are 2 porteros that rotate 12 hour shifts. One from 6 AM - 6 PM and then they switch and the other goes from 6 PM- 6AM. They do this 6 days a week, get one day off, and then switch who has morning or night. Can you imagine a work schedule like that? Plus, they probably get paid very minimally.

Well, tonight I found a secret skill of one of my porteros. At 5:00 tonight I decided I should go for a run. I got on my clothes and hurried out the door. As I hit the stairwell I looked outside, oh man the sky was not happy. It was promising a downpour. Hm..to go or not to go, that was my question. I turned back to my apartment 3 times only to re-convince myself to go. Maybe it wouldn't rain. Heck, why don't I just ask my portero what he thinks.

Down I went to the front desk and I asked his opinion, "What do you think about this weather. Is it going to rain?"

"One second, let me check" he responded as he stepped outside and looked at the clouds, "You have 30 minutes".

"30 minutes? Perfect. Me voy!"

So off I went running. I made it to the track and did my work out. I glanced at my watch and I had been gone for 30 minutes. Oh boy, I better get home. I usually walk home as a cool down but today I kept running. The sky was swelling with water droplets. Of course I didn't think to bring money for a taxi in case it rained. Drip. Drip. Drip. 37 minutes. My portero was right!

Drip. Drip. Drip. Jog. Jog. Jog.

As I neared my apartment the clouds let loose. 43 minutes from start: torrential downpour. Run. Run. Run. By now I'm one block from my apartment and sprinting (thankfully it was downhill). I reached the front door and I'm drenched. Drenched and laughing. My portero smiles as he lets me in and gently scolds me with a tease, "I told you 30 minutes."

Yes he did. Yes he did.

My portero: guard, protector, weather predictor!

Can I pose a question?

This is weird but I’m beginning to speak English like my native-Spanish-speaker kiddos who are learning English.   I’m supposed to be the model English speaker to be mimicked, but I’m losing my touch! Let me explain.

Alright, in Spanish when you want to make a question the only thing you have to do is raise the intonation on the last word of the sentence.  For example the sentence, “A ella, le gusta mucha” could mean (1) She likes it a lot or (2) Does she like it a lot? The only difference in speech is whether you make the intonation of “mucha” rise or fall. If it falls it is a statement and if it rises, it is a question. In English it doesn’t work like that. For questions (that aren’t yes or no) we change the word order and typically end the sentence on a downward intonation.

My native Spanish-speaking students are so used to raising the intonation on the last word of a question that it transcends into their English. No matter what they are asking the intonation rises at the end.  It was quite funny. Well, that is until it started rubbing off on me. The other day I asked one of the other foreign teachers a question and she busted out in laughter. I was confused - I didn’t think the question was that outrageous. Turns out I raised the intonation at the end and she couldn’t handle that I sounded just like the students.  At least that’s what she said. I was skeptical until the horror hit me last night.

I was talking to my Amiguita (the cutest kitten in the world) and I asked her a question. I finished the question and just stopped everything. I heard it myself!  I had indeed made the last word rise as I posed the question. What the heck Leanne, English is your first language, this shouldn’t be a problem!

So here's my dilemma: I speak English like a Spanish speaker and Spanish like a gringa. Lose-lose situation. Sheesh!