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!

A Single Request

It is Friday! Woo hoo :) I like Fridays.

First: It's nice wrapping up the work week.
Second: I stay late after school to play some competitive volleyball
Third: It's my designated cleaning day for my apartment (yes, that's a good thing)

I could go on, but I think you trust that I like Friday. I hope you do too!

Well, I have one purpose in writing this blog post: I need your help!  Last night I was talking with my mom through skype and she graciously pointed out that I use the word "anywayS" an awful lot throughout my posts and should be using "anyway". She was worried she was going to discourage me from blogging, but I was SO thankful that she mentioned it. If she hadn't, I would continue misusing the word - I mean, when I speak I will probably still say "anywayS" but at least I am without excuse now and understand it should be "anyway".

So where do you come in? Please please please please PLEASE if you ever notice a continual mistake in my writing, let me know! Just leave a comment on the bottom, write me an email, post it on facebook, send me a card (ha! I love getting mail!!!), etc. and I'll be forever grateful. Okay, maybe not forever, but I'll appreciate it :)

Domicilio

It's 7:42 PM on a Wednesday night and I'm working on school stuff. Well, actually it's like a 60:40 ratio. 60% of the time I'm working and 40% of the time I'm cruising the internet, taking pictures of Amiguita, distracted by facebook, writing in my blog, etc.

Earlier I went for a run at a track at a University. Okay, kind of random, but the entire track plus a soccer field and park area is enclosed by a fence and guarded by an armed man. Not like armed with a machete, but a real gun. Maybe a 20-20? Ha! I pulled that one out of thin air. I googled what a 20-20 is...not even close. Yes, a disappointment to my step-dad. (Sorry Scott - we need to have a gun lesson when I'm home for Christmas!) Let's just say he had a shot gun - yeah, a shot gun. Well, it was the same man who was there Monday morning. We will become friends soon. It's cool when people start to recognize you. Not that I ever enjoy saying anything part from hello, but it's the thought that counts. Anyway, eventually he is going to say something to me. The problem is that I keep running and walking by him. I can be you he's not going to ask me the time. Here's my second premeditated response: just smile and say "si". Ha! Here is the script when strangers talk to me and I don't understand: First, try and tell them the time. Second, smile and say yes. Third, explain that I don't speak Spanish well. Score! Works like a charm every time?

Anyway, the point of this was not to describe the track. It's not 7:33 and I have not eaten dinner. I haven't been shopping recently so there is nearly nothing in my refrigerator. Let's see: some eggs, mozzarella cheese,  condiments, a bottle of aguardiente, diet coke, a few apples and an onion. I mean I could make eggs, but I'm sick of eggs. That's my default. A better idea is to order something. Colombia is a world of delivery. Seriously. Anything you could ever want has an option for delivery.

Regular food from restaurants: check!


Ice cream: What do you think? Yup!

Alcohol: Oh yeah, they do that too!
Groceries from a little kiosk: No problem!
Pet supplies: That's what their sign claims!
Coffee: Wouldn't be surprised!

...I could go on...someday I'll write down all the delivery options...stay tuned for a future blog post

Seriously friends, I could get anything I want! So many options and I'm just bad at making decisions. I'd say ice cream but I've eaten it 8 of the past 10 days, so I should probably take a break from that.


After thinking about it I've decided I need to be honest with you: ordering delivery intimidates me. That requires calling them to order something, making sure I know what I want, understanding all their questions, telling them my address, explaining it if they don't understand, and waiting for them to come. I sometimes struggle in real life with ordering things. Talking on the phone in Spanish is about 100 times more difficult.

I think I just lost my appetite for delivery! Maybe next time :)

Slacker

Wow! I cannot believe that it has been a full 5 days since I've written a single word on here. Not that there is a lack of things to say, but rather that I got a kitten. She is lovely and distracting and requires a lot of attention (okay, not that she really requires it, but I just can't not play with her.) So yeah, my kitten, Amiga, is a sweetheart.

The process of getting her was really simple. I went to the vets with a friend of mine. Emily had found and rescued 2 kittens that were 5 days old, raised them for 3 weeks, and then they died. It was quite sad. Well, she had taken them to the vets several times and this last time was to pay and get her belongings. While we were there it started down pouring. I mean like sheets of rain coming down. It was nuts. And guess who didn't bring her umbrella: this girl. Man, I'm fairly certain I've been over this with all of you - always, always, always....ALWAYS bring the umbrella. Paragua.

I wasn't about to walk home so we stayed there for a while. During this time we asked one of the workers if he knew of a place where we could adopt 2 kittens. He told us yes, hang on, and then disappeared behind the doors that separate regular folks with workers. The magical entrance to the world of vets. We stayed there and waited. Waited for the rain to stop. Waited for this man to return. The latter happened before the former. Our vet-man came out and told us that a woman would come "tomorrow at 3:00 " with some kittens. What? Now that's service. I was expecting to walk all the way across town in search for a little shack-of-a-shelter in a shady part of town. Nope: cat delivery service.

The next day came and Emily and I went to the vets at 3:00. To be honest, I was expecting to be stood up. Colombians are often a lot of talk but not a lot of do. It's not that they intentionally don't hold their word, it's just cultural. They never want to disappoint anyone. One teacher put it very well: Colombians don't know how to say "no" or "I don't know".  Ah, rabbit trail....back to the cat. So we went to the vet and there waiting for us were 2 ladies with 2 precious little kittens that were sisters and about 2 months old (a lot of 2s in that sentence Ha!). The lady handed me one and Emily the other. We were sold. This is really happening: my first pet all on my own. Can't go back on it now.

After spending a day with her I decided to name her Amiga (or Amiguita) which means little friend. She is my little friend. I talk to her, I listen to her sorrows (at least her squeaky meows sound sorrowful), and we play. It's kind of a big commitment, but I'm excited to have a living thing in the apartment with me.

Yes, I talk to her. Yes, I am on the road to becoming a crazy cat lady...although, someone told me I'm much to young and vibrant to really be one.