Vacation Time

For the last two weeks, we haven't had school, as we're in the middle of our three week class break. For various reasons, the English activities planned for the two weeks of in-school development took up slightly less time than expected, but they did occur, so that was good. It wasn't a bad two weeks. However, relaxing as it was to not be teaching in classrooms and having much more daily autonomy, it wasn't quite vacation, as it were.

But my, how things have changed!

Earlier today, I flew to Bogota. It only took three hours longer than expected, since our flight didn't manage to board before the 2 hour all-airport lunch break...but finally we arrived, descending into sixty(SIXTY!) five degree temperatures and the verdant mountain-ringed valley of the city.

 In a slight twist in Peace Corps (mis)Adventuring, I'd decided to use some Marriott points I'd accumulated during my short tenure as a corporate professional last year.

Which leads into the surreal fact that I'm currently sitting on the puffiest bed potentially in the world, with a "Pillow Menu" on the nightside table (just press 0 and order your favorite kind, gratis), on the highest (read: executive) floor of the Bogota Marriott. Across the hall is the executive suite which offers, for high rollers like yours truly, free alcohol, breakfast, and dinner-time "canapes."

(You should have seen the desk lady's look of dismay as she handed over my "elite" set of keys and told me of these perks. Eschewing the trappings of my fleeting Marriott gold status, I was definitely hauling a backpack as luggage along with a cheap guitar, and was wrapped in the windbreaker that is my only sub-80 degree clothing here in Colombia...To be fair, I wasn't really expecting the executive floor, so I'm sure my face was humorous to watch as well...)

Pinch me?

Idon'twanttobeanexecutiveIdon'twanttobeanexecutive...if I keep repeating it, maybe I'll remember how true it is!?  I swear, there were definite reasons I left this lifestyle...give me a few minutes and I'll gather my thoughts and remind us all why working in 100+ degree weather in disorganized, un-airconditioned or ventilated or even electric fan-equipped schools is more fulfilling than working for a corporate agenda and getting free room service... Okay, I'm back. Teaching is more fulfilling. It just, is. So there we are.

Anyway! I'm set to enjoy three days in this ridiculous hotel chain wonderland. Tops goals include:

• Put my feet on every surface that can be sat on (because, believe it or not, that's something not allowed in public or private spaces in Barranquilla. Maybe not here either...but not going to let that stop me)
• Watch Wimbledon
• Avoid small children
• Choose the volume of my surrounding music
• Work on personal writing projects
• Wear a long sleeved shirt with a hood at all times
• Meet up with awesome college friend, who just moved to Bogota for the summer(!)

I'm happy to report that four of these goals are being accomplished as I type. I'll let you guess which ones.

After three days here in the city, during which time I may or may not venture out of the room, I'll be traveling to a small Spanish colonial settlement for the last few days of the vacation. Probably won't be updating again until I have time to experience the sights and gather my thoughts. Or who knows. Maybe I'll just have that much time on my hands, and you'll hear more of my Posh Corps ramblings :) We'll see.

Happy mid-year break!!

In Search of Beauty (and finding it)

As Barranquilla is anything but pretty, it’s sometimes easy to forget how near extraordinary beauty actually is. Last weekend I hopped the bus to Santa Marta for a much needed city escape. Although I went ostensibly for a beach trip, I managed to have some wonderful food experiences as well…on which I feel like dwelling (Surprise?!). You’ve been warned.

After about a 2 hour bus ride, I dismounted near Santa Marta’s center. Relatively newly re-done, the city is a fraction of Barranquilla’s size and has a charming downtown area, with Spanish colonial buildings as well as a location directly on the water. Just blocks from where the bus lets out, I found my absolute favorite place there—a café called Lulo’s, near Santa Marta’s historical cathedral.

Lulo is a fruit that is something like a cross between an orange and a passion fruit. I had an amazing juice smoothie made of watermelon, strawberry, some other fruit, and ginger. Who knew ginger was so incredible in juice?! You should try it! This place is owned by a foreigner whose son is currently also in the Peace Corps! Talk about a small world. I’m obsessing just a little because this is something definitely foreign to Barranquilla—a reasonably priced café with non-typical food, with a focus on healthy and fresh. Entrepreneurs, hear me now: there is a market for this!!

Anyway. I completed the yuppie-hippie experience by journaling away while I waited to reunite with a fellow, Santa Marta-dwelling PCV. For dinner, she informed me, we’d be heading to a restaurant called “Baba Ganoush.” “It has an international food focus,” she told me. “Is that okay?”

Hah. The restaurant is located in Taganga, a small fishing village nestled in the mountains just a short bus ride from Santa Marta. The restaurant is set in the hill, open with a peaked straw roof. We sat to eat before an incredible view of the ocean and while the sun set behind ocean-surrounded mountains we supped on ayhauma (a local orange squash) soup, falafel, and a brownie sundae. And fresh strawberry margaritas. I think I just shivered as I wrote that…so much happy deliciousness!

The next day brought an early morning wakeup and homemade swiss-cheese-veggie-egg scramble, and then we headed back to Taganga. There, a small group of volunteers and one volunteer’s co teachers gathered. We hired a boat for the day, and for a slightly expensive fare, set out for a secluded beach.

Our hour long boat ride took us around craggy jutting mountainsides, where the waves crashed on the rocks and trickled down in spontaneous waterfalls. The boat wasn’t that big—a metal launch, and it seemed the waves were at least our size…there was nothing to do but trust our local guides and the somewhat suspect motor (it took about 20 minutes to start, the first time around…) What the boat DID afford us, however, was an incredible view of the surrounding scenery as well as the ocean waves themselves.

The surrounding water was five times as intense a blue as the clear open sky, and where it crashed against the rocks in effervescent waves it shaded to every variation of teal and aquamarine. I’ve never seen so many colors of blue. I’m suddenly understanding artists’ obsession with the ocean; I’ve always been a forest girl, myself, and although it would take a lot to change that, this beauty definitely won oceans some points in my book.

The beach itself was small, set in a small cove. There were actually three beaches to choose from there. We swam at one a few minute boat ride from the “main one,” which had a restaurant; when we arrived in the morning, the restaurant’s owner pulled out a tray of a variety fresh dead fish to choose which one we’d like to have for lunch. I chose Fred. Actually, I saved my money and ate the lunch I’d brought…but later on, I tasted some meat.

Fish here is always served whole, having been thrown in a pot of oil in its entirety to fry crisp. That said, the Sierra was maybe the best fish I’ve ever had, white and meaty, almost no bones (of course you’re picking the meat off the skeleton, so this is in context, here), and not even as ridiculously fried as they usually come. Maybe since they didn’t have to kill the sat-in-the-hot-market-sun-for-5-hours bacteria that generally accompanies the Barranquilla fish…

We spent the day swimming, relaxing, strolling, and eating, and then it was time to head back on the boat. I took the bus directly from there, and arrived back in my big city of Barranquilla…refreshed to start another week.

The weekend was yet another surreal side to my life as a Peace Corps volunteer on the Colombian coast…over and over again, all I can think is, “Who would have thought…?” There are too many ways to finish that sentence than I could possibly list.

All the photos below are stolen from PCV Heidi Jo, since my camera still remains un-fixed...

gogirl article #3

A little repetitious if you've read my other entries, but as published in GoGirl:

:)

http://www.travelgogirl.com/2012/05/taking-the-risk-of-wanting-to-stay/

Bogotá: A Whole New World (But Still Colombia)

Stepping into the airport on my to Bogotá, I knew I was in for some culture shock—“normally” dressed people, carpeting, and toilet paper in the bathroom? I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself. That was going to be a common feeling for the next few days, but I guess in many ways that’s the norm here, right? Minus the toilet paper and other niceties…but anyway.

This past weekend I had the chance to visit Bogotá, our capital city. Family friends from the states were visiting their family in Bogotá, and invited me to share the weekend with them. So many times, here, I find myself quoting Blanche from Tenessee William’s A Streetcar Named Desire, "Whoever you are, I have always depended on the kindness of strangers." This weekend was no exception.
With this incredibly welcoming family I was lucky enough to visit wonderful city sights from the birds-eye view of an insider.  A few noted cultural differences:

1)      It’s Cold. As in, actually cold. Not-there’s-a-breeze-pull-out-the-winter-jacket Barranquilla cold…but we’re talking, hot showers, socks, and fleece blankets at night. With low 60s as a high and 40s as a low, my scarf was definitely more than a fashion accessory. It was amazing.

2)      Traffic follows the rules. For all the fact that each time we got in the car, there were complaints about traffic, Bogotá traffic is incredibly civil. I think I heard horns honk approximately 3 times when we were there…and we did spend a lot of time in traffic. Congestion there is worthy of Chicago rush hour and you often move at a snail’s pace, so I guess take your pick of traffic evils. That being said, I haven’t felt so removed from transportation-related death possibilities in a while.

3)      Bogotáfeels European. Between the cold, the much more bilingual nature of the city, the closed-off feel (almost everyone is an apartment-dweller), the plethora of nationalities and appearances (a billboard advertised using the concept of freckles!), and the Germanic-appearing dairies in the highlands, the city couldn’t have felt more different than scrappy Barranquilla. Clean, swarming with young folk and tourists, and home to ridiculously exquisite shopping malls and tourist sites, the city aura was ambiguous enough to be located just about anywhere in the world.

4)      Arepa quality. From my self-proclaimed arepa-connoisseur POV, I have to say the arepas were better. Crispy on the outside with a smooth inside and just a hint of popcorn, sometimes filled with a creamy cheese…well, even Barranquilla’s stuffed arepas asadas can’t compete. Might have something to do with the fact the mazorca has kernels approximately three times the size of the corn kernels here…I drool to remember it.

5)      Barranquillans dance better. (Thank God.) After attending a baptism, the whole family (from grandparents to new parents, falta only the baby), went to a rumbera at an awesome club. Due to insider privileges (family member knew the owner), we got VIP seating for the best live music I’ve seen in a good long time, by a group who covered everything from Colombian faves to US classics. We danced the night—and early morning—away, and for the first time since arriving here, I felt only like a beginner instead of a total dunce. Nothing like coastal trials-by-fire to make other places feel like a breeze!

For all the differences, what was the same was the incredible friendliness of my hosts, just like we’ve found everywhere on the coast. However, I realized I should never underestimate the value of our coastal location—in this open culture, we can bounce from family to family in a way not available in this colder, more closed-off city. But it also, finally, sunk in that Barranquilla/the coast is not “Colombia.” I mean, I did know this. But Bogotá made me feel provincial; down to my costeňo Spanish, newly acquired “Uuuyyy!” commentary and growing comfort with excessive physical closeness.  Nothing like spending time in a “whole new world” to realize how diverse this country is...my new New Years’ Resolution has certainly become travel more!! …Who needs to eat when we can go to Medellin, Cali, Bucaramanga, Armenia… I guess it’s a good thing that arepas are cheap!

New mom with adorable Juan David and baptism guest

On top of Mount Serrat



View from Mount Serrat. There are 8 million people in this city...



Scarf!!



Older buildings in La Candaleria, one of the oldest sections of Bogota



Gold artifact in Museo del Oro

In the countryside at Casa de la Piedra, a gorgeous lil restaurant

Delicious family-style bbq at Casa de la Piedra. Note the guac (yum!), cow intestines, and blood sausage (...not so yum?) 

Alpina, major Colombian dairy plant

Tourist part of La Alpina, home of all things dairy and delicious desserts