Cuidado

This is how it works living on the 4th floor: stairs down and elevator up. The first 2 months I practiced equality: stairs down and stairs up. Now I just don't like huffing and puffing my way up to my apartment. Not that I'm entirely out of shape (my resting heart rate is consistently around 60 bpm) but it's just a lot of stairs. I prefer greeting Ami as I walk in the door without the heaving.

A few days ago I was patiently waiting in the lobby for the decent of the elevator. It was a rainy day and I was carrying groceries. I heard the familiar ding and looked up as the door was opening. There standing was a gentleman and we locked eyes. Man alive, did he look familiar. I couldn't place him fast enough, "Are you walking a little slower today?" The memory came back to me. The disaster of last month. The reason I knew this man. I smiled, giggled a little and told him that I'm done prancing around in the rain. He got off, the door closed, and I relived the situation in which we met.

It was a different rainy day and I had come back from being out of town all day. I typically walk with a little bounce in my step and that day was no different. I skipped down the outside stairs to the door and my portero (doorman) greeted me and buzzed me in. As I opened the door he nonchalantly cautioned, "Cuidado". Whenever it's raining he tells me to be careful because the tile floors in our apartment turn into an ice rink with the tiniest drop of water. I stepped over the ledge that makes up the door frame and landed in a giant puddle. Mind you this is in our lobby. I gently stole a glance at my portero: really bro, there are 3 inches of standing water and all you tell me is "cuidado?" 

After less than 2 seconds in the puddle, I took a bounding leap to a dry spot. Splash. I landed in another puddle. What the heck, does the water go on forever? In hopes to escape the water again I made a final jump to the lower level of the lobby. Remember that ice rink I mentioned? Well, that was the last thing on my mind. As I made contact with the tiles, my feet went out from under me, my knee smashed the tile, and then motion stopped. At this point I didn't even try to scramble up. I knew I wasn't going to get out of this predicament dry, so I rolled over to a comfortable sitting position and just let the soaking happen.  The water permeated my tennis shoes and jeans. Then the giggles came. I couldn't help it. My portero just shook his head and looked at me, "Cuidado?"  Thanks for nothing.

At that point my pride is gone and I'm sitting in a puddle of water laughing. I teetered up on the slippery surface and waddled toward the elevator. That's when I saw him. A kindly man standing at the edge of the room gaping. Yes sir, you just saw me take a flying sprawl into our lobby turned slip-and-slide. I promise I'm okay, you can close your mouth now. I said hi, he mumbled something in Spanish (clearly more embarrassed than I was) and I disappeared into the elevator.

And that's how I met him. A nameless man who hasn't forgot my lobby blunder. "Are you walking a little slower today?"

My Small Town Pereira

I walked home alone today. It was 5:00. My principal had driven me to a central position between our apartments and I just did a tuck-and-roll out of the car. Okay, not so much. He pulled over and I hopped out. There is this secretive pathway that jogs over a river (or perhaps sewage stream) at the bottom of a dead-end road. It's sandwiched between an empty building currently under construction and the back side of another building. At night it's pretty sketchy, but in the evening with an hour or so left of sunlight I had no hesitation. That was my route. I choose it because it cuts off a good 10 minutes and a treacherous hill from the normal route.

Down I go, approaching the dead end and I hear it, "Señora!" It was coming from behind me, so I ignored it. Then I heard the same plead again. I turned around and saw a man and a woman sitting on the front porch of a house on the street. Upon making eye-contact the man continued (in Spanish, but I'll do you a favor a translate), "Be careful, there is some riff-raff on the path." I had already scanned out the situation and evaluated it as being safe, but I could understand their concern. Instead of ignoring them and trodding ahead, I decided to just turn back and take the long way home. The hill-of-death (as I like to call it) would be waiting for me. Coming down the road behind me, however, was another single lady around my age. The woman on the porch suggested, "Why don't you two just walk together. Then you'll be safe."

So, there I found myself, walking with a stranger. She told me it was a good idea to walk together. As I explained to her the added significance for me because I'm a gringa, she looked at me surprised, "You're a gringa?!"  Ha! I had passed for 13.5 seconds as a Colombian. We walked the path together without trouble and had a lovely conversation. She was excited that I loved Pereira and curious about my work.Then, when it was time for our paths to split we said goodbye and that's that.

I continued my walk home with an obvious smile of contentment. Those people didn't need to warn me, but they did. They were just looking out for a stranger. Then I was given the opportunity to walk with another single lady and we had a great chat. Although I live in a city of 500,000 people, I felt like Periera was a small town. A small town that I belong to. A small town that I'm proud to be a part of.

My Colombian Names

I'm not just Leanne here. Colombia has given me a handful of new names. It makes me smile as individuals claim the liberty of re-naming me. Sometimes mistakenly, other times because my name is so hard to pronounce, and then the few who call me something because they don't know my real name. No matter the reason, I'm left with multiple identities.

"Mease": This student designated name is enough to drive me crazy. It is used upwards to one hundred times a work week. This is not an exageration.  It doesn't seem so bad written down, but when the whiny tone brings it to life, this address brings a shiver down my back. MEEEEEEEAAASE.  Usually this name is put to rest on the weekends, but every so often a student will see me out-and-about and to my horror the name is resurrected.

"Measter": Yes. I am called mister a handful of times a day. My response, "We need to do a lesson on human anatomy."  ...this links back to the student laziness in using proper english. Maybe that will be the next error I attack.

"Mease Lean": This is another student designated name, but only amongst a sprinkling of beloved 11th graders. I don't really know why or how, but my named morphed into this. Maybe it's easier to pronounce. Maybe they just wanted to give me a nick name. I kind of like it. But only when those 11th graders use it.

"Leannecita": In Spanish when you at "-ita" or "-ito" to the end of something it makes it little or cute. For example, my cat is a "gato" but when I refer to her she is always my "gatito". It also can mark endearment. I have a student, Simon, who has started referring to me as Leannecita. Am I little, cute or endeared? Without knowing, I've lashed back: he is officially Simoncito.

"Niña": This name means girl. If I greet someone walking down the street that appears older than me, I am frequently "niña". It makes me smile and feel youthful. Yes!!! I guess 24 really isn't THAT old. Ha! Even now the name gives me the empowerment and giddiness of girlhood.

"Senora": Then there is the flip side of the coin. On my typical walk from my apartment to the grocery store or my favorite cafe, I pass this little corner store and know all the delivery boys (probably between the ages of 16-22) by friendly recognition. To them I am "senora" - the old lady. Ugh. Okay, it's also a term of respect, but really guys, you're compiling the years onto me as quickly as I'm drinking from the "niña" fountain of youth. Reality sinks in, maybe 24 is closer to 30 than I'd like to admit.

"Reina": Last but not least is the all to familiar name: queen (and sometimes princess). Men here are quick to use these names for unknown unnamed females. Taxi drivers, store clerks, gym trainers, bus drivers, maintenance workers, etc. Initially it made me recoil, but I quickly realized the innocence in the names. They are used for every woman, regardless of age/beauty/clothing/anything and Colombian women expect to be addressed as such. Therefore I've learned to embrace it. While I'm here I might as well get used to it.

Let me explainyou

On Thursday, before leaving work, I wrote in bold, capital letters on the top of my white-board, "I will not explainyou that. -Love, Leanne."

You might think I have made a typo. Maybe you're thinking the lack of space between explain and you is a key-stroke error. Or perhaps you think I forgot the little "to" and scrambled my words. Instead what I really wrote on my board was, "I will not explain that to you." Both are wrong suppositions.

I wrote in bold, capital letters on the top of my white-board, "I will not explainyou that. -Love, Leanne."

The reason: Lovingly mocking my kiddos repetitive English mistake (hence the "Love, Leanne".) Every day I'm bombarded with ,"Will you explainme how such-and-such works?" "Will you explainme why I got that wrong?" "Will you explainme why I'm failing English?" ....my new response - I just point to the top of my board. Friday, some looked at me confused, then the light bulb clicks, "Ohhhhhh, will you explain TO me ..." There we go buddy. I'd love nothing more than to help out. Their blunder makes sense though. In Spanish you just stick the indirect pronoun onto the verb. "ExplicaME" (explain to me) is how they ask to have something explained. But it doesn't work like that in English and it's painful that they are too lazy to create a grammatically correct sentence. So now, I'm enforcing it. I will not explainyou anything.

There are several more examples of lazy translating errors that my kids make. Instead of functioning in English, most of them are still at a stage where they think the sentence in Spanish and then translate it as they go. This works for some instances, but for the exceptions, they don't bother speaking correctly and it drives me bonkers.  Maybe you think that's unreasonable, "Come on Leanne, English is their second language." I'll give you that, but they've been in a bi-lingual school learning and having half of their classes taught in English since 2nd grade. They are now 9th, 10th, and 12th graders and should have a strong grasp of the language. And it's not that they don't, it's that the majority are just too lazy to correct common mistakes. They are content with being understood as opposed to mastery of the language. My first year, I was content with that too and maybe even impressed, but now I'm not. I hold them to much higher standards of English. I correct them. I poke fun at them. I point to the board.

After explainme, the top 3 contenders that evoke a cringe and then a reaction:

1: Starting sentences with "It's that..." :  A kid walks in late and I look at him. He exclaims, "It's that I had to go to the bathroom." A girl comes up to my desk 5 minutes before the bell rings, "It's that I have to go to lunch early today." A boy stands up and walks toward the door, I ask him what he's doing, "It's that I have to sharpen my pencil."  It's not that these sentences are terribly wrong, but you wouldn't catch a native English speaker saying that.  I explain that to them over and over again. It doesn't sink in. Why? Because that's okay in Spanish and quite common. "Es que" + rest of the sentence = okay. Since I've started calling my students out and not letting them start with "It's that" I've noticed how much in Spanish I hear that phrase. So much so, that I've actually picked up the habit when I'm speaking Spanish. At the supermarket I'm looking for weights, I walk up to an employee, "ES QUE estoy buscando pesos." My Spanish is a touch more Colombian! But, it's that I need to explainyou two more errors.

2. Presenting a test: 9 times out of 10 when a student is absent on a test day, they will come up to me the next day, "It's that I was absent for the test.  When can I present it?" Two strikes against you kiddo. But now we're focusing on the verb "present". In Spanish you "presentar" a test. In English you don't. It's that, you TAKE a test. I will not explainyou and you cannot present the test.

3. Losing and winning tests: Kiddo turns in his test, "I think I'm going to lose the test." Oh really? You just handed it to me, you can't lose it when it's in my hands. I think you mean you're going to fail the test. If it were English, that might be so. In Spanish you lose and win tests. In English you pass or fail. The kids know this, but don't take the time to change it. Let me explainyou something, it's that as long as you talk like that you'll lose every test you present.

So there you have the top 4 errors I hear and correct over 50 times a week. I'm not exaggerating. You know, these are small details and I'm not giving my kids credit for how much they do know, BUT these matter. These little things are the distinguishing factors between fluency and mere communicative language skills. I'd be doing a disservice to them if I didn't call them out.

Now I'm in full out war against these top 4. Once they've been mastered, I'll move on to the next 4.

Let me explainyou, it's that if we work in baby steps they may not even realize that their habits change! Goal.

Because Yes

Twelve.

The number of days we sing about each year at Christmastime. But, if I'm being honest here, I'm not really concerned about that anymore.Christmas has come and gone. And I have gone and come. Ha. What a sentence. What I mean is I have left Colombia and have come back.  I've been back for 12 days now. Nearly two weeks and my readjustment period is coming to a close. This time around it's been a little bumpier and has lingered a little longer. The things I had become accustomed to here pre-vacation kind of just smacked me in the face all over again. And I laugh. Oh Colombia. How I love to dawdle in my gringa-ness all over again.

A voice of reason has minimal influence here. I've been reminded of that several times. For example, I could easily see this happening: Steve and I go out to a sandwich place for lunch. The special is a ham and cheese sandwich for $6,900.  I ask for mine without cheese. When I get my bill it's for $8,500. Confused, I ask the cashier about the special. "No, that's for the ham and cheese." Yes, I understand that. I ordered that but didn't want cheese. "Well that's a ham sandwich, so it's $8,500." We go back and forth, I give up, pay and leave.  I guess taking cheese off costs more than putting it on. There are many things like this that just don't make sense. But in all forms of lack of reason it's easy to shrug it off and remember: Oh yeah, I live in Colombia. That seems a good way to close a paragraph, but I want to add one more tidbit: the "because yes." When challenged with a "why?" my kiddos frequently respond, "Because yes." Ha! Of course that's excellent reasoning. The nonsense reverberates through the youth as well.

Along this line, being back has taken a toll on my English. I spend approximately 5 hours a day hanging out with teenagers who don't speak English well. It rubs off on me after a while. Running into class as the bell rang, one student slipped into another persons seat. The poor victim was left without a chair and they both knew they'd get a tardy. I quizzically looked at the offender, "You can't steal him the seat and expect not to get a tardy." Steal him the seat? Wow Leanne. And that just scratches the surface.

Another wow: While being home I forgot how incredible my staff members are. The first day being back at school we all showered each other with hugs, kisses, and lots of Spanglish chit-chat. This is followed by playful jest and messing around during meetings. This comradery at work is what keeps me going.

What else keeps me going? My lovely kitty-cat who is just a little quirkier than I remember. I talk to her. She keeps me company. We've developed quite a relationship. She's weird though. Allow me to expound. My parents have taught me a heck of a lot about life. One that's pretty high up on that list is drying off before getting out of the shower (thank you Scott!). So I turn the shower off, open the door, grab my towel, and in saunters Ami. I dangle the towel in front of her a few times and she bats at it. Kinda cute. Then she proceeds to bite it and play tug of war with me. If I give her any slack she'll go ahead and just carry the towel into the bedroom like it's her stuffed animal or something. This happens frequently.  Kitten, you are weird. Perhaps weirder than when I left you a month ago. But it makes me smile.

More readjustment. Hearing Spanish everywhere. I was chilling at a cafe sipping coffee and overheard the couple sitting next to me speaking in Spanish. "Woah! Spanish, I wonder what they're saying....o wait. You're back in Spanish land." The brain is slowly switching back to living in this place.

I suppose I could go on and on. Things are just much more different than I remembered them ever being since arriving. Not that it's bad. It's kind of fun re-experiencing Colombia. I'll leave it at that for now. Why?  You might ask. Because yes.

...and I'm a tired pumpkin ready for some shut-eye. This teaching thing is a lot harder than I remember too!

Silly (and not so silly) Things to Look Forward To

Last night I was awake in the wee hours of the morning. Not that I would stay up that late on a school night, but my body has been doing this strange thing for the past few nights: the three/four hour cycle. I go to bed at a reasonable time but then 3-4 hours after falling asleep I ping awake. It's not my bladder gradually easing me out of sleep pleading for the bathroom. It's more that my mind is done sleeping; it needs a break from whatever craziness it's been doing during my time in REM.  So I lay there for what seems forever and then give up on that and get up. I usually cruise facebook for a bit, do something semi-productive and then head back to bed for the remaining 3 hours of my night. Last night my something semi-productive was starting the following list. I was thinking about home and everything I have to look forward too:

1) Burnt toast with natural peanut butter and honey - I don't have a toaster here. I could put bread in the oven to toast, but I don't buy bread. I have peanut butter here but it's not natural. I could buy honey, but I don't even like it. Unless on burnt toast with natural peanut butter. Why this came to me as number one? Your guess is as good as mine.

2) Carpet - I have not set foot on a carpeted floor since July 23. It's been too long.

3) A full sized non-keyboard piano with a stationary sustain peddle - I'm super thankful for the little keyboard I have here in Colombia and really it suits me just fine. But it's not full size. And it doesn't have weighted keys. And the sustain petal likes to travel while I'm playing. Living room + candles + Christmas sheet music + me + my parent's piano (that I like to claim as my own) = awesomeness.

4) Driving - Will I even remember how?

5) SNOW - Snowflakes, snow storms, snowmen, snow shoeing, snow angels, snow balls (being gently thrown at someone), snow tubing, snowsuits, snow days (I can hope for my mum to be home with me,) snowplows, snowboarding (we'll see), snowmobiling (oh wait, I've never gone. lol). Enough said? ....not yet, one last thought. After writing snow so many times, it starts to look funny: SNOW!

6) Cookie scoop - I like making cookies. Partly to eat the dough and partly because I love surprising people at school with treats. What I don't like is sticking my finger in a tablespoon trying to coax the dough out into the designated spot on the pan. The problem is solved with a cookie scoop. Imagine an ice cream scoop but much smaller. Quick easy cookie dough transfer. Oh, and my mom has like 3 different sizes.

7) Being cold - Yes. I am looking forward to being cold. Remind me that when I'm cold, being a baby and I want to complain.

8) Family/friends - Do I even need to say this one? Absolutely. Without a question. This is the greatest. And because it's the Christmas season I will see my family in almost entirety. Yes it will be busy. Yes we will be exhausted. But YES I'm looking forward to it. I also get to spend time with a lot of friends: both in UP and in troll country. Again, lots of traveling and lots of pit-stops. But oh, so worth it.

9) The Wheeler's - So this kind of piggy backs onto the last one, but I get to spend a large chunk of time at my sister's place with her husband/in-laws/animals. This will be epic.

10) Being in my own country. Simple. Straightforward. Honest. (Interesting side thought: This time around it isn't the English language I'm looking forward to. It's more being back in my own culture.)

Ten for now. Perhaps ten more in a few days as I get more and more anxious for my trip home!

Crunch Attack

A few weeks back, a dear friend of mine convinced me that doing crunches before bed is a good idea. I don't particularly like crunches, but it's a little something extra that will make my body stronger. At least I tell myself that. So I've been doing them nearly religiously almost every night. Notice the words "nearly" and "almost". You may criticize redundancy in my writing but it's intentional. I need you to know that I don't REALLY do them every night. Nearly. Almost. Anyway, this habit of mine has bred an interesting habit in my cat.

Let's discuss crunch form. Usually, one lies on their back with knees bent. Then proceeds to pull their body slightly off the ground and return to the lying position. Not me. My crunches coach explained to me that a better workout is to lift your feet of the ground until your calves are parallel to the floor and then crunch from side to side. Left elbow hits right knee. Right elbow hits left knee. Do you have that visual?

So this is where Ami comes in on the first night of crunches. Within 3 seconds of starting she had planted herself at the base of my tailbone. I ignored her and kept going. Well, I ignored her until it happened. She jumped up like a rabies-invested monster and started biting my feet. Remember, this is right before bed so I'm sock-less. Owe. Owe. Owe. Silly cat, you can't eat my feet. Can't you see I'm busy here?

First night - Ami: 1, Leanne: 0

The second night, I'm at it again. Usually when starting a new work-out plan the initial days are easy. So I was on the floor and what do you know, Ami returned to the position of the night before. I started my crunches and she laid there just under my legs. I was suspicious as I remembered the last night's attack, but I kept doing my thing. The faster you get them done the faster it's over. I made it to about 15 when the cat was suddenly in the air and her teeth were sinking into my feet. Well, I'm being a little dramatic, she never punctures the skin, but I could not continue the crunch madness until I shewed her away. What the heck cat?

Second night- Ami: 2, Leanne: 0

Third time with my crunches before bed and my cat nonchalantly lays down. I would not be fooled this night. I permitted her lay there, but kept an unoccupied shoe at my side. As I was crunching away I was watching her. And that's when I caught her. Ami's eyes went crazy and I knew she was going to attack.  I had just enough time to slip the shoe in her direction and touch her belly. The attack focus switched from my leg to the shoe. You'd think she was fighting for her life as she mauled the thing. I laughed and finished my crunches. Not me Ami, not tonight.

Third times the charm - Ami: 2, Leanne: winner winner chicken dinner

I still do my crunches. Ami still lays at my tail bone. The shoe gets attacked. Game over kitten. Game over.