Providence Island: your next happy place

For all those interested in a coral reef/tropical beaches/aqua ocean/green mountains/culturally interesting/tri-lingual getaway: look no further!


I wrote about Providence Island  (the island paradise I got to live and work on for a month courtesy of the Colombian Ministry of Education) right here: Go Girl Article on Providence Island

Check it out!

Great Expectations: Part 1

There was a time when I held great expectations for my Peace Corps service. I'm not here to say they aren't being fulfilled. Instead, I want to talk a little bit about how the definition of "great" has changed over the last 22 months of service.

I wrote a post about low expectations a long, long time ago. It was impassioned and justified and logical and naïve. It came from a day during training when we were told to "lower our expectations" in order to survive. I hated the idea. It turned into a joke for all the PCVs: 'what, you thought we'd get something done at this meeting? Lower your expectations!'

The other week, I was walking past a restaurant on a city corner. Banners hung from every corner and window advertising the sale of my favorite, although difficult to find, food - a bean soup called guandúl. I glanced at the banners and immediately, reflexively, thought to myself, 'nah, I don't believe they have it.' Not until later did I have to laugh at myself for thinking this - but I still didn't think that the restaurant necessarily had the soup.

Lowering my expectations has become a double edged sword. In some ways, it protects me. As a PCV -maybe due to the  public, foreign, outside-comfort-zones sort of life we generally lead/work we often do - life reactions tend to be a bit exaggerated. On bad days, tiny setbacks can cause reactions tantamount to a breakdown.

Say I'd gone to that restaurant on a bad day thinking to cheer myself up with guandúl. My 22 months of experience here tells me that despite the signs, there's a decent chance they won't have the soup.  And then what would happen? I'll be sad times a hundred, because it would have been a long sweaty walk to get there with no reward. TEARS!

Then again, if I go and there IS guandúl, how awesome would that be to a) have a great lunch on a bad day and b)know there's a slightly out-of-the-way restaurant that might actually reliably carry my favorite local food? And yet, months later, I haven't had the inclination to try.

Low expectations means that when the local airline I'm flying tells me that my flight is delayed 7 hours, it's okay. What, I thought my flight would be on time?! When school is canceled and the lessons I planned for dashed for the third time that week - well, why would I ever assume we'd have class anyway? I didn't expect it, so I had a contingency plan in place, whether that's go get ice cream(!) Or, head to the office to do some other work.

This attitude might seem a bit cynical. It can be detrimental, too--for instance, it can definitely lower my motivation to do work (since there probably won't be class, is it even worth it to plan?). Perhaps I've missed opportunities because of it.

But here's the deal. Beyond allowing for day-to-day mental survival (not always a small thing), there's this really cool effect of having low expectations: It means that the little things are wonderful. It means that when the owner of my favorite veggie restaurant gives me a free cookie, it makes my day. When a Colombian friend calls to say hi and check in and spends almost 10 minutes on the phone with me (no one uses phone minutes here!) it makes that day plus a few. When I stepped off the plane in Providence and heard birds singing, I almost cried for the joy of it. When lessons at school go well or there's  a productive meeting with my teachers, that means the week was a good one.

And when something big goes well, something that I drew upon my previous months of learning and experience to complete - a girls camp, say, or a month in Providence - well, I'm Godzilla-sized with happiness.  I can taste it even now.

There's nothing like going through an extended period of living outside your comfort zone to see where the Things That Matter versus Things That Don't Matters shake out. In part two of this I'll tell you all about my personal toddler-style "how I know what I really care about" barometer…

Although in some ways I'm looking forward to when my current life of crazy contrast gets on a bit more of an even keel (hey, COS), I hope that I'm still able to find so much joy in the small things - that a small gift from a stranger is invaluable. That seeing a wide blue sky brings bubbles of joy. That a kind conversation with someone makes me smile fit to burst.  That hard-earned accomplishments are truly seen as life milestones.

I have to believe that in four months when I step off this rollercoaster called PCV service, I'll have learned not just invaluable lessons about who I am, what I want to do with my life, and  that I've done some sort of significant work here - but that I will remember to treasure the small things, and cling to them - and remember to be that person who gives these moments to others, too. Because you never know what expectations they had for that day, either.

Top of the Peak: Makin' it

Marooned for a Month: Providence Island Immersion

Hello friends!

When I say I've been trying for a long time to get out this post, it's the truth! I'll spare you the reasons it took so long, but one big one - internet speed - is worth mentioning because for that reason, the pictures below are in absolutely no order. 

So, here goes - 

I spent a lot of last month on the very small and very beautiful Colombian island, Providence. I'm planning to write up the island itself for my column over at travelgogirl.com (With a Side of Salsa) that will be published in the next few weeks so I won't repeat...but there's a 2 picture limit there and that's just sad!

Did I mention I was on a very beautiful island? I'm not sure that's a strong enough statement. (See pictures below.)

But first: What was I doing on said island?

Every year, the National Ministry of Education runs an immersion program for English teachers with a relatively low level of English. The idea is to get them from a B1 (early intermediate) to a B2 (late intermediate) on the European Framework scale. Teachers from all over the country apply. They also submit a proposal for a community project they'll do on return. 

Then, they're sent to Providence and San Andres - two very small and very gorgeous islands off the coast of Nicaragua. (You might have heard about them from the recent maritime rights dispute, or because of Providence's unique black mountain-dwelling crabs). Providence and San Andres have a unique history, including Baptists, pirates, and Spanish settlement that have left them with a totally unique culture - including a whole mess of English, Spanish, and Creole languages all coexisting. The islands may be Colombian, but they are a world apart from the Colombia that I or even the other Colombian mainlanders had experienced before. (more on that in my upcoming column!) 

The teachers live with local families for a month learning English and interacting with the natives. For many of them, it's the first time they've ever left their families. While it was a little humorous to hear middle-aged men talk in all serious about how they missed their moms, their comments were also refreshing; turns out, even other Colombians, too, sometimes struggle living away from their families in the homes of other Colombians.  (While I live with an absolutely wonderful host family, it's definitely a major challenge of PCV life, in general)

I digress! Back to the immersion and my role: this year for the first time, Peace Corps volunteers (myself and three others) went as part of the teaching contingent to add a methodology component to the lessons. It was a challenge that we rose to with our 21 months of in-country experience, from last-minute planning to complete flexibility and a whole lot of forging ahead through the unknown. A paradise both for the amazing environment as well as wonderful people - islanders and Colombian teachers both - it was definitely a life highlight. 

Randomly ordered pictures and captions below--

The three lovely local tutors who taught the English classes for 4 hours a day

We were really excited to get our first Peace Corps buttons. PC Colombia represent!

Sunset on Southwest Beach, our closest beach at a 3 minute walk.

Crab Cay, the tiny Cay paradise that's part of MacBean's Lagoon - a national park made up of mango mangroves and lots of ocean

The water is so teal because the island is surrounded by the world's 3rd largest barrier reef

No better place to nap on earth 

We taught groups of 20 teachers at a time. Side note: While mainland Colombia loves their plastic beach chairs (from classrooms to room furniture to social event necessities), the islands do it right! These plastic chairs had PLASTIC DESKS attached

On Santa Catalina--it is a tiny island attached by bridge to Providence. I'm not sure if its few inhabitants get counted into the 5,000 tally of Providence islanders, but the start of the path to Captain Morgan's buried treasure starts here!

Ron Don is a local "stew." From left to right: giant flour dumpling, yucca, ñame,  fish, plaintain. Boil all these starches (and one white protein) in coconut milk and you've got a plate of the tastiest carbs you'll ever find

One Saturday "cultural event" we climbed "Peak" with our teachers: it's the highest point on the island. Even though we started at high noon, we all made it!

Local dances combine renaissance waltzes and polkas with Caribbean music and rhythm. With their stuffy european roots still highly present, most are even possible for a gringo to learn

There is some kind of giant gene on the island. Was interesting to feel nice and short again, as opposed to my 5 feet towering over to many of the locals in my Barranquilla life

This is the plane that takes you from San Andres to Providence. The doors have gaps in them. The first and perhaps last time I can boast of actually feeling the clouds...

The one road that circles the island gives two amazing and dichotomous views. Here, looking inward

"Lovers Lane" - the bridge that connects Santa Catalina to Providence island.

One of the docks on Santa Catalina: Providence island through the trees

Many mornings I ran to this lookout point and watched the sunrise

Called a "flaming tree" in Creole

On Saturdays they race horses on Southwest beach. Since we had class all Saturday, I contented myself with watching them work out every morning. A dip into the ocean cooled them off after their hot gallops

The houses in Providence are made of wood! European traditions are long-lasting, even if the wood isn't always.

Jessica breaking down "The Giving Tree." Our teacher/Giving Tree decided no, he didn't really want to give up all his apples!

Nothing like the Ministry of Education sending in their video crew for the final ceremony to make us feel like a celebrities

Old Town - the center of Providence

Pigtail and Beans: I thought I'd be super adventurous and try the local pigtail (the hotdog shape buried under beans). Not only is it as bad as it sounds, but I found out later that it's imported from Canada! It's served in lots of local dishes, but couldn't help feeling the joke was on me...

More of a local food success was "Crab Toes" as they're called in Creole - pincers sauteed in garlic and butter. The ultimate finger food!

The backdrop of my new personal happy place

So much blue everywhere. Didn't even need a snorkeling mask, the water's so clear

Our teachers were the kindest students I've ever had the pleasure to teach

On top of Peak

Fellow volunteer Jessica and lovely island decorations (the iguanas and electric blue lizards were even cooler in real life)

By the end of the trip, I'd almost gotten used to seeing dinner-plate-sized purple/blue/black crabs scuttling away through the woods and rocks

The island had a number of wonderful benches with lots of different shapes and colors. This says, "Free Time: Think, Dream, Read." (And it says it in English on the other side!) I say, OKAY. 

Learning local dances

The center's tiny plaza was a perfect place to take post-post-lunch-icecream naps

The downtown boasts TWO tiny grocery stores. Peanut butter here sells for like, half the price! 

Up the road by the Baptist Church to INFOTEP classrooms we go...

A walkway in the center

handpainted map of the island of Providence. If you look real close you can see the names of the barrios and such

Traditional instruments for the traditional music included horse jaw rasps

Also mandolins

On the road, just another beautiful sight

One of our fabulous classes outside the training center

This shameless animal followed us everywhere--including somehow getting onto our 2nd floor balcony one night!

A perfect day for a family trip to the beach