The Top 10

I was reading about haikus today. Here is what the internet told me. "A traditional Japanese haiku is a three-line poem with seventeen syllables, written in a 5/7/5 syllable count. Often focusing on images from nature, haiku emphasizes simplicity, intensity and directness of expression."

Then I made one:

I used to blog more
When did time pass so quickly?
I have now returned

Ha! What a poet I am. I'm certain this doesn't count as"images from nature" but at least its a "directness of expression." Yeah, I'll go for that.

You have just read my confession. I just don't know where time went. The last time I wrote was September 24th. Exactly one month from today (and 50 days from coming home...but who's counting down?) Maybe that's the problem: consistently living off of count downs. It is my secret love. I think it's the anticipation that gets me. Another problem: staying on track.

So life happenings: a lot has gone on. Most note-worthy? Definitely the trip I took to Colombia's Caribbean coast 2 weeks ago. The best parts are encapsulated by the memories with my travel companions: Emily, Stefan and Madeline.  Every night we would sit in a hostel, a random restaurant, or just chill outside and write a top 10 list for the day. A random receipt or scrap of paper would be our tablet, and away we'd go. Stefan initiated such madness and it turned into a ritual of laughing while pondering the past day. It wasn't always the top 10 best things, but more often the top 10 most note-worthy things. Numbers 1-9 were as a group and number 10 were individual. Pretty sweet if you ask me.  I want to have one last go at a top 10 right now. (Well, I say one last go, but I think I'm going to incorporate this in every trip I take. The daily top 10.)

Here they are: The Top 10 of Vacation ....remember, not top 10 best - just the things that stick out.

#1 Cat attack: Yes. It happened. No. It was not fun. My little Ami couldn't stay at home alone the entire 8 days I was gone, so a friend of mine agreed to kitty-sitting. This friend also happens to have a cat, his name is Andy. Ami and Andy have met before and they definitely didn't hit it off. We figured that was okay though and for the week, my friend would just keep Ami locked in a room. No big deal. If I had brought her to the vet for them to watch, she would have been in a cage. So, the night before we left I brought Ami over there. As I was lugging her in her carrying case to the back bedroom, Andy followed us. Suddenly Ami started spazzing. I wasn't certain a cat could make the sounds that she was making. As I stood there perplexed Andy was overcome by a demon (or so it seemed), pounced on my leg, claws in full action, and sunk his feline canines into my leg. My friend was screaming, I was flailing my leg trying to get the cat off, and all the while Ami was helpless in her cage. It was a disaster.  Andy released and was captured in a giant blanket. I was shaken, but I didn't think it was that bad. Then I looked down; there was blood everywhere. Peeking at my leg for damage I realized this wasn't just a playful scratch. It had been a full out cat attack.

#2 Beach. Every. Single. Day.

Reading. Relaxing. Swimming. Tanning. Exercising. Playing. Laughing. Reading.

Sun screen. Hand stands. Sand castles. Coconut water. Crabs. Sunlight. Naps.  Can I go back?

#3 Hot hot hot: I enjoy warm weather. Actually, I even enjoy hot weather. Some would say there is a limit to how much you can like it. And now I finally agree. Here is a good measuring tool: When eating breakfast does your arm drip sweat? If so, it's a little too hot. Welcome to Cartagena. The second most humid city in the world (I just made that up)

#4 Transportation: Before heading to the coast we bought 2 one-way tickets. One from Pereira to Cartagena and the other for a week later from Santa Marta to Pereira. Our plan? Find a bus to bring us from Cartagena to Santa Marta. We knew it was possible, but a lot of times Colombia doesn't work. I mean, Colombia doesn't work as efficiently as I'd like or function how I would imagine.  So really, we didn't know what to expect. On our last morning in Cartagena we jumped in a taxi and asked the driver to bring us to the bus terminal. He looked at us shocked. Seriously? Apparently the bus terminal was over an hour away. Oops, we didn't expect that one. Well, thankfully he didn't take us there. He inquired about our final destination and when we told him Santa Marta he proceeded to explain where we needed to go instead of the bus terminal. Awesome. Bring us there buddy. Turns out it was a 3 minute taxi ride, we caught the earliest bus out, and before we knew it we were on our way to Santa Marta. Score. Transportation success!

#6 Snorkeling  If you haven't done it. I highly recommend it. Especially if you have the mask and the snorkel. The ability to swim around in the water, seeing everything around you, and not having to come up for air is magical. I couldn't get enough of it!

#7 "Que Pena": This phrase translates directly to "How embarrassing ". In Colombia it's a little different.  In Colombia, it's used for "sorry". Not in a sense of genuine remorse, but more out of habit. You run into someone? "Que pena". You cut in line? "Que pena". You forget to do something? "Que pena". It's kind of a go-to word in every uncomfortable situation. I guess it is kind of like "excuse me". So on this trip, Stefan proposed seeing how far the line could be pushed. What is the worst you can do where "que pena" still covers the blunder? Walk up to someone, hold their hand, exclaim "Que pena!", then walk away. No biggie. A lady on the bus has uncontrollable hair so you snip a little off, "Que pena but your hair was bothering me." Shrug it off. We curiously thought over millions of scenarios and came to no conclusion. I guess it will always work, "Que pena."

#8 Ice cream: I ate ice cream every single day on this trip. Not always amazing ice cream, but ice cream none-the-less. One night we stopped at this ice cream shop that one of my students had recommended. She had told me it was, "THE BEST ICE CREAM EVER." (yes, the girl was yelling it when she told me...and she was standing 2 feet away. ha!) So, it had to be good, right? Wrong. It was mediocre at best and quite expensive. What a let down. We sulked out of the shop and continued on our walk. Woah. The next door down: Italian gelado! No way. It looked infinity better than the paleta we had just eating. So we did it. We headed in and got a second dessert. Probably not the most health-conscious decision, but a great decision nonetheless.

#9 Hammocks: The 3 of us girls had gone up to our hammock-hut shortly before Stefan meandered up there. He was hitting it up with the ladies and we were ready for bed. He was to sleep in the hammock next to mine. My sleep was awful. Twist, turn, shiver, twist, shiver, turn, shiver, shiver, shiver. You get the point. We were right on the ocean and the "nice breeze" was not so nice when trying to sleep. I remember waking up and being miserable. I peaked over my hammock and saw Stefan had arrived into his hammock. Sweet. It had to have been about 3 AM. Only 2 hours before we'd see the sun peaking up bringing the heat with it. I could handle this until then. I heard him shifting a little bit, so I tested my luck whispering, "Stefan? Are you awake." He rasped back, "Yeah. What's up?" "What time is it? I'm dying." "11:30." "What?! Are you kidding me?!" A great disappointment sunk in. I now had over 5 hours to fight my hammock for a little shut-eye. Quite a memorable night.

#10: The people I was with. A simple statement for my number 10.

Nameless Friends

It's Tuesday. This means getting out of work at 3:00, getting dropped off at home around 4:00, and then a circuits class at the gym at 5:15. It's the same every week.

Maybe my friend will be there today. She doesn't know that we are friends, but we are. How does this work? Well, if you go to the gym at the same time for a month or so, you get to know who is likely to be there. At least I have. I like watching people. I like familiar faces. And so I'll smile at her, she will courteously smile back, and we will continue on our routine. There is no light-up in her face revealing recognition but that's okay. It's curious how I recognize her. She and I are the few females who wear shorts to the gym. That's not entirely true. There are plenty of women wearing shorts, theirs (unlike mine) just happen to be made of spandex. One time I was on an exercise bike and a woman walked passed me wearing shorts. My jaw dropped and I averted my eyes as I suppressed a giggle. Not only were they spandex booty shorts, but they were covered in sequins. Now how does one successfully match a shirt to that? Oh, don't worry. I guess shirts are extraneous. Instead you can just wear a strapless bra - even if you have a set of obviously fake DDs. Is this real life?  Lady, you've come to the gym.

So back to my friend, we have the same style. Maybe I'll creep her out and say hello today. Perhaps even figure out her name.

Oh, I have other friends at the gym. The guy who probably is a professional boxer. He's fun to watch on the speed bag. Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. Yeah, that's him. Then there's the guy who runs for 20 minutes on the treadmill with the sign that says "Don't use if you are over 70 kg". He is definitely over 70 kg. But that's okay, if you run less than 25 minutes it's probably okay? That's what he does. 20 minutes and then is upstairs with a personal trainer for about 40 minutes. Then there is crabby lady. I always try and make her smile. I usually fail, but who cares. One time she actually smiled at me and I felt like I had won the lottery.

After those, there's the old super-fit guy who smiles at everyone. There's the lady who has a body fat percentage well below 15% and works really hard. There are the brothers who run next to each other then do alternating machines.There's also the kid who lives in my building, the maintenance man who's always fixing a machine, and I can't forget the lady at the front desk. In reality, the list goes on and on. A sea of nameless faces that I have made my gym friends. 

Cha. Mo. Meel. Ay.

Chamomile tea and I have an interesting relationship but I'll simplify it for your sake: we just don't get along.

First of all, let's talk pronunciation. After spending 6 months in Argentina I came home with a brain full of Spanish. The Spanish language is really cool because all letters are pronounced. There are no silent ghs (like in the word through) or vowels that don't make a sound (like the "e" in bike). Every single letter makes the same sound every single time. So, I returned to the USA with that in mind. My sister took me to the grocery store and we were looking at teas. I turned to her looking at a chamomile box, "Should we get some cha-mo-meel-ay tea." She busts up laughing. "Ca-mo-meel Leanne. It's pronounced ca-mo-meel." Lame.
Chamomile tea: 1
Leanne: 0

To add insult to injury, I don't even like the flavor. Who cares that I cannot pronounce it when I don't even like to drink it. It reminds me of being sick. That's not something I like to think about as I sip my tea at work.
Chamomile tea: 2
Leanne: 0

I needed some new tea to add some flavor to my work day and get off coffee, so I browsed the tea aisle for something new. I didn't know half of the words I was looking at so I settled on one that sounded good: manzanilla miel. Manzanilla is close to manzana (apple) so I figured it would be light and fruity with a hint of honey (miel). Delightful, right? Well I was delightfully wrong. The overpowering flavor was of chamomile but I just ignored it. One of my students came into class today and was telling me about his tea exploits. I showed him my new manzanilla miel and had him smell it. His evaluation was that it smelled pretty good. I went on to explain that it tastes too much like chamomile so I don't like it. He didn't know what chamomile was so we continued on google translate to find the Spanish word. He hit translate on his iphone and up pops the word: manzanilla. Really Leanne? The one flavor you detest and you pick it out of a shelf of over 50 teas. I should have brought my Spanish dictionary. Well played chamomile tea, well played!

Chamomile tea: 3
Leanne: 0

The Kiss

Ahhhh!!! I have been waiting for this moment since arriving to Colombia a year ago. It happened. It really happened.

Per Colombian culture, as I've briefly mentioned in the past, it is completely normal and entirely expected for women to greet everyone they know with a kiss. Okay, un beso. It is more like brushing cheeks and making a kissing noise, but still, it's a kiss.

Sometimes it can be awkward. I always go in for the right cheeks to touch. But what happens when the other person goes in for a left cheek brush? You weave your head back and forth trying to figure out which way to go. You switch as the other person switches and your back to going for opposite sides. Imagine two bobble heads greeting each other. That's the visual.

And what happens if you miss and get too close to the lips. Ah! So bad. So so bad. And so that happened to me as I greeted Jaime our security guard. I went in for the cheek swipe and as I pulled back I nearly grazed his lips. I basically kissed him smack dab on the lips. Okay, I'm slightly exaggerating and I don't think he even noticed, but it was way to close to comfort for me. I knew this was bound to happen at some point. I turned away red faced and when he was out of ear-shot I broke down giggling. Is this real life?

Ha! The day I kissed my security guard at work.

Wham Shabam New Debit Card

The thought of misplacing a debit card in the United States brings a sense of frustration and an added hassle to the day. It doesn't invoke fear and to be honest, it's more of an inconvenience than anything. At least that's what I'd imagine. I actually have never had it happen.

Now take that same experience and transplant it to a foreign country, like Colombia. Your heart stops. Well at least mine did for that millisecond before panic jolted me back to life. Someone must have pick-pocketed me and my only thought was that the criminal master mind had most likely drained my bank account before I even knew my card was missing. I mean, all the bad guys live in this country (please please please read the sarcasm dripping from the text.)

I will admit that my initial logic was based around theft and how I could protect my account, but then I made myself stop. "Leanne, you're playing worse case scenario and you probably just forgot to put the card back in your wallet. I bet it's sitting on your desk at school this instant." But, just to be safe I checked my online banking.

 Activity: zero.

Well that's good, but now what? I'll tell you what, you do exactly what you'd do in the states: call your mom. (haha, maybe one day I will aspire to handling these things on my own). Except I didn't really call my mom. Instead I contacted the closest thing to a mom I have here - Luisa. Within the hour she had canceled my debit card and explained to me the process of getting a new card. Complicated? Absolutely not. I chuckled as I read the email telling me that I just had to go to the bank and get a new card. I hadn't expected that one. The country where it took me 6 months to get an identification card has an expedited service for replacing lost bank cards. Score!

So there I was at the bank today. In. Out. Wham. Shabam. New card and not a cent missing from my account!

Regardless of the Flaws

The bell system at school had been off since this morning. There had been no blllrrriiiiiing (imagine an old-school ring) signifying we had 5 more minutes until the day would start. I guess my day had started at 5:00 this morning, but that's beside the point. I'm talking about school day. You know: craziness. In all honesty it didn't matter much to me that the bells weren't functioning.  I had first period free and was already settled into my desk working away. I have decided that once I get home in the evenings I like going to the gym, playing ukulele/piano, cooking, cleaning, skyping, chatting on facebook, and relaxing WAY more than I like doing school work. How can I make that happen? Work my tail off at school. Yeah, I know, a revolutionary idea to do work at work and home stuff at home, but really friends, it takes some motivation and determination.

So back to the bells. My second period came waltzing in on their own time. It made starting class a little difficult, but we made do. Just a reminder: I teach in Colombia. Whenever something is askew I just remind myself: Oh yeah...Colombia. Well eventually the entirety of my group of 10th-grade awesomeness arrived to class. I have this obnoxious service bell on my desk so I just rang that until they were all in their seats. I had all these students last year, so it is easy getting into a routine. This class period sped by and before I knew it the class period was over. And the bells sounded. Woah, back in business.

Next came the 9th graders. They are a lively bunch of sweethearts. Or at least for now (3 days into the school year) I'll stick with that description. The bells didn't tell us when to start class but the kids were quiet and ready to go. I jumped on that. Not often do you find a class letting you know it's time to start. We got rolling and it was a circle of energy. I was feeding off their enthusiasm and therefore super excited and lively. My zeal was then returning to them and it made them work harder. I cannot tell you how satisfying that is as a teacher. The hour passed enjoyably and before I had a chance to dismiss them to break the bells rang prematurely. About half of them thanked me and immediately headed out the door, while the rest lingered and helped me get the desks back in order after an activity. Within a minute everything was straightened and the remaining kids had scurried off to get their snacks and play.

And there I was, just standing there alone. Some people might say talking to yourself is strange, but to me, speaking something gives it life. So I let out the words. I'm not kidding, I stood there and spoke into silence, "I love teaching.....I. Love. Teaching."

And that's it. Regardless of the flaws, I love what I do.

Gringa Leaves Colombia

I've lived in Colombia for a year now and I’m currently home in the United States for summer vacation. I claim “currently home” but in reality I’m sitting in an airport waiting to catch my flight out and perhaps I won’t even post this until I arrive back to my apartment in Colombia. Airports just don’t offer free internet like they used to. At least Microsoft Word does not demand that connection.

Wow. Where does time go? We've always been told “time flies when you’re having fun”, so I’m guessing my month home passed so quickly due to the insane amount of fun and enjoyment I experienced.  Before arriving home, I almost forgot how incredible Michigan is (particularly the Upper Peninsula, but I won’t exclude the trolls in the final evaluation of my state.) The beauty of summer is captivating and it’s nearly impossible to be outside without praising the creator of it all. There is so much life to celebrate.  What a stark difference from the last time I was on this continent as the grasp of winter was evident everywhere.  Thinking about the last time I was home also makes me realize how different I am as a person this time around. An expat returning home. And I’m changed; at times  I think I’m turning Colombian.

Obviously, it’s really quite impossible for me to literally turn Colombian , but that doesn't save me from picking up Colombian mannerisms. Since returning home I've realized some strange non-USA-like tendencies that I've pick up from that remarkable country with its incredible people.

The desire to kiss everyone: For women in Colombia, you are expected to kiss everyone on a daily basis. I’m not talking eyes closed, passionate kissing, but rather a brief brush of the cheeks with a kissing sound that is perhaps followed by a hug. This is the way you say hello. It is the standard greeting. If you know the person and don’t do this simple gesture it could be read as being rude or signify that you are upset with the person. I personally like this little culture quirk but it’s not really acceptable back in the USA. Not that it would be inappropriate, just it would be weird. After 6 months of doing this, however, it’s hard to just turn it off. So, after seeing someone I know I go in for the kiss, remember how awkward that would be, and slip into a hug instead. Good thing I’m a hugger! I think I’m turning Colombian.

Responding in Spanish: The little things in life that require responses without thought have a tendency to trigger Spanish. While in Colombia I spent so much time making Spanish filler words second nature. When you run into someone in the grocery store you want to be able to quickly respond, “sorry” or when you want to slide by someone blocking a path you can naturally ask “excuse me”. Because I have been so deliberate to make words like these in Spanish slide quickly from my mouth, I have reverted back to them a few times since I’ve been back. Most of the time people understood what I wanted, but just didn't understand the words. I think I’m turning Colombian.

Toilet paper in the garbage: Okay, upon moving to Colombia the biggest problem was reminding myself every time I’m in the bathroom that toilet paper does not go in the bowl; toilet paper belongs in the garbage. As I've explained before, the sewage systems just can’t handle it.  Now I struggle putting paper in the bowl. After doing my business I’d catch myself looking for the garbage. I’d laugh, throw the paper in the bowl and flush it down. One time I actually threw the paper in the garbage. Dang it. Haha! I just retrieved it and put it back where it belongs. And then washed my hands really well! I think I’m turning Colombian.

Mental peso calculations: When I first got to Colombia I’d walk through the super market and mentally change all the peso prices to dollars to see if it is a reasonable deal. As time passed those calculations happened less and less because I learned what are good peso prices for Colombia. The time I've spent home reactivated my mental calculator.  I would walk through the super market mentally changing all the dollar prices to the peso equivalent to see if it’s worth it. Crazy. I think I’m turning Colombia..

Craving Juan Valdez: For a long time now I've been a Starbucks girl. Coming home I was super stoked to indulge is some delightful coffee. The first stop at the airport was a Starbucks.  I took a sip, frowned, and, no joke, thought, “Juan Valdez is so much better. I wish I could get one here.” I think I’m turning Colombian.

The Umbrella Check: In Colombia I always do the umbrella check before leaving my apartment. Ya know, tap the side of my bag to make sure my umbrella is in there. It is not fun getting caught in a down pour unprepared. Several times I've done the umbrella check without thought, realized what I was doing, smirked and walked out the door umbrella-free. It felt slightly weird. I think I’m turning Colombian.

Can’t a Girl Get an Arepa? :Arepas are these little corn tortilla-like things that are loved by all Colombians. I don’t remember where I was but I was walking through a food court and saw someone eating what I thought was an arepa. I did a double take as I thought, “Wow, an arepa would be super good right now.” As I re-evaluated what the person was eating, I realized it wasn't an arepa. The craving didn't flee with that realization though. I think I’m turning Colombian.

And now I’m heading back to Colombia. Will I readjust back into that culture? I sure hope that these little mannerisms I've picked up are an indication that the transition will be smooth. I’m certain I’ll miss home and I’ll constantly be reminded that I’m a foreigner, but I imagine I’ll enjoy getting back in the swing of Latin living.