Regreso a la Republica Dominicana mas pronto!

Listening to the soundtrack of the last 2 weeks one of my mas o menos home stay sisters, Maria, gave me while eating the best cheese empanada I've ever had at the Santiago airport waiting for my 3:15 AM flight to Boston. 

Can't believe two weeks went by. 

What happened?

Biggest accomplishment: I actually got 104 pages of a thesis draft done. Seriously. While it was hot fun in the summer time, bright, sunshiny days, I was writing. And I'm glad I did- because I am seriously behind in school (did I mention I get into Burlington at 3:30 PM tomorrow and have to book it to a class at 4:00 backpacking pack and all). 

I carried out interviews with all the workers at the factory about their personal use with the filter and if they see any problems with it, and then conducted interviews around the tiny, Higuerito community where I gathered more responses from people who use the filters in town. 

Most importantly, I got to see how the clay is mixed up and made into the clay membranes that make the filter. I got to see the liquid colloidal silver get added to the clay (and I learned the trade secret amount that is used for FilterPure filters), and I watched as over 200 lbs of clay and sawdust got mixed in a pug mill and then got wedged and pressed in a mold to create a batch of 30 filter membranes. Really exciting stuff to be able to watch! And I learn so much better by doing and observing, all of those scholarly articles I've been researching about ceramic water filters really came to life.

On Friday, Negro, Radhy, Melissa, Mark and I took a trip to Santiago to get helados and sit in the city park. I liked Santiago much better than Santo Domingo, less hectic!

The Gray family took Mark and I to a tourist beach last Saturday, Cabarete, and it was really nice (even with all seven of the Gray children plus 3 of their friends). Dad, you would've loved to snorkel in this ocean, and you also would love to see how much it looked like Miami...but alas...I didn't take any pictures of it, so you'll just have to trust me (and you can enjoy looking at the Picture of McDonald's I took in town in Santiago that I told you about to which you responded, 'McDonald's? Oh WOW'). 

Maria, Radhy, Melissa and I got to free Negro from his night school classes twice, once last week and again tonight. More or less we would be stopped by the guard at the front of the school around 8 PM when class doesn't get out for Negro until 9, and we would walk up to his class, tell one of the head professors he needed to leave, and no problem. Negro was free to leave so we could fulfill our nightly ritual- dance parties in my room. I got to tell the head professor tonight that it's my last night here and I wanted to spend it with mi mejor amigo and she understood. Although at every other dance party, 10:00 PM would roll around and the girl's mom, Maria, would knock on the door and say it was time for bed. But tonight, all the girls and negro (my 4 sisters) got to come with to drive me to the airport in Cousin Claudia's car. 

Tonight being my last night, one of the workers, Domingo, invited me to get ice cream with him, another one of the workers, Benjamin, and my sister- Maria. We got to go there by motorcycle which was the most fun (and not at all dangerous, Mom and Dad) and it was the best 'double date' I've been on (except for the quadruple date we went on in high school). 

It was hard saying goodbye to all of the hermanas and Elena, Radhames and Maria tonight! I can't believe how close I got with this family after only being here for 2 weeks. It just seemed like we were all always laughing about something and had the best time together. Negro wrote me the nicest cards, one in English and one in Spanish, and Maria gave me two vests to bring home with me. Domingo, one of my favorite workers, wouldn't let me leave without accepting his gift of three Muneca dolls that he makes---and they are beautiful! 

I'm going to find a way to stay here for a year and work with promoting and educating on the ceramic water filters. Whether it's through a full bright or what, I'm not sure, but I know I will be back to Higuerito and hopefully it is for longer and more than just a visit next time!

Feminist, Environmentalist, Missionary?

The first thing Mark said to me was if I could guess his 3 brother's names. I guessed Matt (since it sounds like Mark?) and was right, but I couldn't guess the other two, and so when I stared blankly at him after he told me their names are Mark, Matthew, John and Luke, there was a long pause until he finally said, "You know, from the bible?"

"Oh, of course, yeah."

Uhhh??

Needless to say, Mark isn't cute, mostly because I find him extremely hard to be around as he is truly your Straight Out of the Book Ignorant American (I really don't think he will ever read this....) And yes, I am completely being a total judgmental Travel Snob when I say this, but he just doesn't get it and told me this is the first time he has "traveled to a place like this," and I just wanted to say a place like WHAT?  When I told him about the bodega I've been getting my juice and cookies fix at he was shocked that I had 'ventured off from the FilterPure site to explore the town because I heard the Dominican Republic is so dangerous' (seriously, readers, this bodega is maybe a 1/4th of a block from the house in the friendliest community there is and I get my cookies in complete daylight). He just asks so many questions. All the time. Never stops. Tranquilo.

Yesterday after a lazy day of watching Radhames and the whole family fly kites in the yard, and after a swim in hermano Ricardo's pool para las ninas (that people over the age of 5 can't really fit in), I played Old Maid and Go Fish with Disney themed cards with Melissa and Rhady. I got the Old Maid (Ursula from Little Mermaid). We were playing in my room and we invited Mark to play with us, and from my doorway he saw my bra hanging from the bamboo bed drying out from the 'swim' I had earlier and got scared off. We all saw his horrified expression seeing a girl's bra and then his immediate reaction that he had to go and didn't want to play. We were all like, c'mon, really, what's the big deal about a bra?? The joke with the girls for the rest of the night was about Mark's face when he took one look at my hanging bra and closed the door to leave my room saying he just wanted to hang out with the guys downstairs. So funny, but also, seriously? He's 23?

Today I received the compliment from the workers at the factory that I am a strong woman and a hard worker. For being the only woman working alongside 10 guys at a ceramics factory for the morning, I felt pretty accomplished. Just breaking down gender stereotypes one day at a time.

Our project this morning was clearing out the kiln that had hundreds of tiles in it for flooring, then transferring the tiles (along with cement) up to the third floor of the dormitory unit via a pulley system.

I remember my academic professor in Ghana, Yemi, said that the first step in doing research somewhere is establishing relationships with the people, and that's definitely what I did today. It was the best joking with all of the guys who work here and in between hauling tiles we would be singing Juanes and laughing and now it seems like I've built up a right to be able to interview the workers about the FilterPure because we are friends.


Today I went to Santo Domingo to accompany David on one of his trainings and FilterPure distributions with his oldest son, Izaiah and Mark. Santo Domingo is crazy and I was ready to get back to humble, quiet Huguericito Moca as soon as we were stuck in our first traffic jam about an hour into the ride.

We went to where nurses doing a community health work with Pentecostal affiliated Volunteers for Peace were stationed. David did a really great job advertising the filter and explaining to the Volunteers for Peace all about how they should explain how to use the filters to the families they distribute them to. The nurses spoke about how what they see the most is people infected with multiple parasites, and instead of just treating them with antibiotics, they want to distribute FilterPures to families in Santo Domingo to eliminate parasites at the source. It was great hearing such positive responses supporting the FilterPure from a health perspective.

Over the meal we were fed at the Volunteers for Peace site (plantains and chicken and lots of people saying grace), there was lots of talk about "following God's calling" and mission work and I mostly just kept quiet because all of this overly religious stuff was beginning to wear on me at this point.

I always wondered the types of people that actually listen to the band Train and other Christian Rock. 

Turns out David's family are those types of people. 

Of course, they only listen to this from the Family Ipod that has been screened for appropriate/censored music that do not curse. It kind of seems ironic to move your entire family of 9 to the Dominican Republic, but you screen all of their music and movies, but I'm not the parent of this family- so be it. 

I swear, if I heard another Praise Jesus from another Christian rock band I was just going to open up that car door and jump. Those were two of the longest two hours I've spent in a car. Being around David and his family I make sure to restrict myself (I really do swear too much) and that I definitely offend them when I slip the occasional "oh my God." They're the type of family that wouldn't recognize that Goldberg is a Jewish last name, so I just silently have been going along with this whole charade. 

Lessons learned:

-Hanging out with Radhames and his family and the workers at FilterPure is how I want to spend all of my time here. 

-The anthropological aspect of preserving traditional pottery in conjunction with making ceramic water filters seems feasible and is getting a good response from people Radhames and I have spoken with. 

-The FilterPure model is awesome in that it provides parasite-free, bacteria free water; but it does nothing to relieve the time burden of fetching water; and I have to remind myself that there is no one water solution and each circumstance and place in relation to water accessibility is different

-The FilterPure is not helping the poorest of the poor who really are the ones in the most need of having clean water if it is not being donated to families and they have to pay an upfront cost that most in need cannot afford. 

The "DR" is In...back at it in the Dominican Republic

When I told my Environmental Studies thesis advisor during a meeting a few months ago about the FilterPure NGO in the Dominican Republic that holds trainings on how to make ceramic water filters outside of Santiago in the Domincan Republic she just flat out told me that I should to go there.

My thesis advisor's response went something like,

 "You're a senior! Go for your Spring Break. Take an extra week off. Flights down there are cheap, just do it. The Environmental Program puts money aside for people who do things like this." 

So that's what I did. And now I am here, in the Domincan Republic at the FilterPure ceramic water filtration site in one of their dormitories. Simple as that.

Sort of. 

This is the first travel I have organized completely on my own, unprogrammed, traveling on my lonesome.  I arranged for David Grey, one of the program directors in the DR for FilterPure to pick me up at the airport in Santiago....at 4:15 AM when my flight landed Friday morning. This was the part I got nervous about sitting at my kitchen table in my apartment in Burlington talking with my roommates the night before I left. 

What if David doesn't show up? Will he have an ID so I know it's him? Is this actually a legit FilterPure person? Will I just get murdered? What am I doing? Am I crazy for trying to go to the DR for the first time alone without knowing where I'm even going (Lisa Ballantine, Director of FilterPure assured me that the filter site does not have an address, but it is in Huegericito Moca)?

My roommate's advice? 

Bring Mace. 

Stay at a hotel if I don't feel comfortable. 

I love them because they know the rational stuff I need to hear to calm my nerves. 

But I didn't buy the mace, and sort of just hoped for the best (and got the rates on using my phone for emergencies; remembering of course the oh-so very eventful overage charges I racked up during the Nicaraguan portion of my traveling binge last year). 

.....I interpreted that avoiding all pre-traveling disasters (including previous scenarios of getting pink eye or a scratched cornea or having to get my thumb drained because of paronychia the night before leaving the country) was a sign that all would go well.....

So I left Thursday at 11:00 AM from Burlington and of course, it was one of the only snowy days we have had all year which meant lots of delays. My route to get here involved a MegaBus ride to South Station in Boston, a T ride from South Station to Logan International Airport (where a 6 plus hour delayed flight layover ensued), then a 30 minute plane ride to JFK in New York (where I ran to catch my flight to the DR before all of the security gates closed at 11:30 PM), and a 4 hour flight to Santiago, Dominican Republic. 

There were 3 other Gringos on the plane.  I sat next to two of them and found out 2 things about traveling to the DR:

1. Guys from the US go to the Domincan Republic to hook up with girls. 

2. If you are 30, single and a Jewish Chief Financial Officer for a restaurant in NYC, you're going to have a house in the DR, and you are going to have a lot of Domincan girlfriends. 

The third, drunk Gringo on the plane pulled me aside as we were boarding and gave me some other advice. He told me:

1. I should be very worried about going to this airport as a Lone Female because it is "the worst he has seen and the men are very rowdy and I should be aware and cautious." When I told this guy I've been to the New Delhi airport where cows roam free and there is no sort of organized system or lines for arrivals or departures and I could handle it, he told me he wasn't so sure I could. OK. 

2. This is the craziest flight I will be on and once when he was on this flight from JFK to Santiago, flight attendants had to break up a physical cat fight between two women who had ripped out each other's weaves. 

The third Gringo must've been drunk because although the people on the flight were more animated than any other night flight I've been on, there were no cat fights. And the Santiago airport was beautiful. Very calm at 4:15 AM, and the easiest customs I've ever been through. Got my checked bag no problem and right when I walked out, I recognized David Grey with a sign that read "Erica Goldberg." Totally professional, and I was put at ease immediately. 

David took me to his house in Jarabacoa to rest up before he took me to my dormitory at the FilterPure site. On the drive I learned that he has been doing missionary work here in the Dominican Republic with his church from Ohio for 10 years, and got involved with FilterPure on one of the missions. 

I then found out he has 7 kids. 

I'm in a car with a missionary man with 7 kids.

My inner dialogue:
-Don't Panic.
- "19 Kids and Counting"
-please don't say anything about working for a Population NGO, please don't say anything about working for a population NGO....

All judgments aside, two black, pitbull/lab mixes greeted me at the door of David's house and I immediately fell in love with them, just about as immediately as I was passed out on this stranger's living room couch until the morning. 

Through squinted, blurred eyes (I fell asleep in my contacts), I caught glimpses of some of those 7 children staring at me an hour later when they woke up (to get ready to be home schooled, of course), but that was about it- as I was so exhausted from all the traveling I slept until 10 AM. 

After I woke up and got ready, David drove me back toward Santiago to the FilterPure factory site where I will be staying for the next two weeks. 

Driving through parts of Jarabacoa reminded me of Isla de Omatepe in Nicaragua with all of the pink, yellow and orange painted houses with white trim and advertisements and names of shops painted on. I missed seeing banana trees and stray dogs all over and street vendors, too. Oh and the weather is too perfect. Sun shine with a breeze by day- always bearably hot and comfortable in the shade, and it cools down to a comfortable 65-70 degrees at night: Paradise. 

I met Ryhames and his entire family right when I got there, as their home is next to the FilterPure studio. Ryhames and his wife, Maria, have three daughters: Melissa, Rhya and Maria ages 16, 17 and 20. Rayahames' sister, Elena is the one who makes all of my meals as she already does this for father, whose house is right next to Ryhame's. Emmanuel is Elena's son that is always around and hanging out with us. After being checked into the 'dormitory' which is right next to Ryhame's family's home, and after having a day's worth of really delicious meals cooked by Elena, I felt like I was back at a Ghana home stay. 

Ryhames is incredible. He is the master potter of Moca and has a famous sculpture in Santiago of one of the traditional dolls that are made without painted faces to symbolize all of the mixed races of Dominican people. His true dream is to preserve traditional pottery all around the world and in the Dominican Republic and has dreams of uniting all traditional potters to preserve their craft. He believes that traditional potters are the most happy and content when they are practicing their craft and supporting them will bring peace around the world. After exchanging pictures of traditional water pots in the Domincan Republic and in Ghana, we both agreed that you couldn't tell the difference between the two, they look so similar. Could be attributed to the crossing of cultures through the slave trade. 

I toured the factory, which has only 10 workers and is entirely outside with open rooms made of concrete and cement. I got to see all of the fine particles of red, yellow and black clays that are mixed with 4 parts clay to 3 parts finely ground saw dust particles which burn away when they are fired to make the clay porous. I learned about how the FilterPure model differs from the Potters for Peace model because FilterPure bakes the colloidal silver inbetween two clay membranes, and Potters for Peace paints their colloidal silver on, which apparently fades after a year and has to be reapplied- whereas the FilterPure allegedly has a lifespan of 5 plus years. The thing about this colloidal silver though, is that it is the one ingredient to these filters that has to be imported from an outside source from one of the 3 colloidal silver hubs in New York, China or Spain. 

I forgot about how the pace of work goes outside of the US and was reminded of all the 'down time' I had doing research in Ghana. Everyone works extremely hard here, it is just different- punctuality and promptness just aren't as necessary to accomplishing what you have to and I already know that I will be mostly doing informal interviews, as the formality of set questions to ask just seems strange and out of place. So when Ryhames told me to come and see what he was working on after I was finished with my breakfast, I leisurely walked over- only to find out that him and all the other workers had finished for the day and would be off for the weekend. And I thought I had this whole concept of time thing figured out???

Today, David and his family (yes, all 9 of them), invited me to come with them to hike a waterfall, so I squeezed into their van with all of them since no one works on Saturday. The waterfall was beautiful, with lots of potholes that we all were climbing and exploring and I felt really brave conquering great heights of the closest thing to rock climbing I will accomplish in my life. And by the way, after spending a day with 7 kids all under the age of 14----I will never complain about babysitting for two again. 

I came back from the day of hiking and waterfall adventuring just in time for the much anticipated dance party of the evening. After buying much needed supplies (Coca Cola and cookies) we came back to the house to where I found out that the dance party would be held in my room!

We played the radio and Maria, Melissa, Rhya and Emmanuel taught me how to dance like a Dominican with Bachata and Mirengue and I am happy for all of the Colombian exposure I have had to prepare me for this moment! Katie, you really expanded my Latin American music repertoire. And PS, everyone here wants to go to Colombia SO BADLY to dance dance dance and listen to Don Omar and all they do is ask me everything about Colombia. Also, not having you as a safety net for help on Spanish words I don't know has enabled me to only speak Spanish all day and it is awesome! And I am so surprised at how much I was hesitant that I didn't know that I actually do! I may speak like a toddler, but I am able to express most of what I need to!

All for now. Graduate student/Environmental & Civil Engineer, Marc from Virginia comes to stay at the dorm tomorrow to do research---and I find myself not wondering so much if he will be cute, but instead that he better like dancing bachata and mirengue with all of us because we have got a pretty good thing going!!!

And I'm wondering if he's cute. 

Vamos a la Medellin para la Feria de Los Flores

I thought that Jairo made up some song lyrics out of shear anticipation for the Festival of Flowers in Medellin when he started singing after we decided to leave for the festival. Turns out the song "Vamos a la Medellin para la Feria de Los Flores..." is an actual song that is played everywhere in Medellin during the festival.

We left on Friday from the bus station and took a four hour van ride to Medellin. One of Jairo's friends, Santi (same friend who has the finca we stayed at) just moved to Medellin so we stayed at his apartment. Jairo assured us that there were two beds and the sleeping accommodations would be adequate.

We got in to Medellin at about 10:30 PM and saw that Santi had 2 twin beds for the 6 of us. I brought my thermarest that was used under a cardboard box that served as the makeshift bed in the apartment which we decided whoever was the drunkest would sleep on. Juan Fey and Rob were the lucky ones to be appointed to sleep on the disassembled cardboard box for the weekend.

We went out on the town our first night there and only got 4 hours of sleep when we decided it was time to head out to explore the city. With some deep fried arepas and cafe con leche in our bellies, our first stop was to where three men were reporting the day's events from a radio show.  One of the men could do an exact impersonation of a horse, which we loved.

The public transportation in Medellin is really great and we got to hop on the train-monorail system and a gondola ride inbetween our taxi hopping from place to place.

Medellin's gondola system is one I wish Burlington would adopt to transport people from sea level up to campus. Medillin's gondolas are similar to the ones in Manizales and connects neighborhoods in the mountains to the city of Medellin for about 50 cents. We got to enjoy the ride among the company of an older gentleman, who no doubt was no entertained by our goofiness or the boys' gas without any way to escape from the glass enclosure. :-/

My favorite part of the day was touring the art museum that was largely devoted to the work of Botero. There is a part outside the garden that features Botero's sculptures of voluminous people, and his museum exhibit showed that he depicted just about everything (not just people) in voluminously. I also got to see one of Diego Rivera's pieces, and was excited to being that much closer to Frida Kahlo (I recently added seeing all of Frida Kahlo's pieces to my Bucket List).

We were fairly run down and low energy from the previous night on the town, followed by little sleep, and then running around sight seeing in Medellin when it was time for the real party to begin. We ended up going to a huge gathering of music, food and drinks held in the city and were shocked to find that the infrastructure of the event was lacking one imperative thing: bathrooms. An infrastructure flaw that would have appalled our dad.

I was exhausted by the time we settled at the bar we spent our night at and had no choice but to stay put and wait until the rest of the gang was ready to head back to Santi's apartment. I mustered up the energy to keep my eyes open, but wasn't the most pleasant of company and turned down two persistent dance proposals that were followed by screams of encouragement from all of the people we were with saying, "You're in Colombia! You have to dance!" I more or less replied in defeated Spanish that I was too tired to do much more than pour the group shots of Guaro. I have no idea how people stay out late consistently, I can't function without sleep. These people are crazy.

We made it back to Santi's earlier than I thought we would (around 2:30 AM I think?) and when Katie came back to the apartment from getting late night empanadas, she found everyone asleep with all the lights on.

The next morning we all woke up bright and early again, this time getting maybe 5 hours of sleep, and only had enough time for breakfast of arepas, eggs, and hot chocolate before we had to mosey our way back to the train station to catch the van ride back to Manizales.

Being in Medellin felt like being in Chicago (which awaits in only five days from now) and I really enjoyed all of the running around we did in the city. The only thing is that the Feria de los Flores lasts for two weeks....and apparently the main flower parade that the festival is known for happens next weekend.....oops.

Salsa Class: brought to you by the Richard Simmons of Colombia

I met Dad for the first time today.

Our home stay dad, Jon, that is.

I've been here for two weeks.

There have definitely been undertones of a situation of sorts with our home stay dad, but Katie and I weren't able to ask about it; we could just confirm that he hadn't been around. There was some talk about him being kicked out, which seemed to be confirmed when his liquor case display was disassembled last week. Then yesterday it was reassembled and low and behold today he was reading the paper at the dining room table. Mostly I just find it funny that I met him for the first time two weeks after I've been living here and Katie and I would laugh over our meals (where we can speak in English about whatever we want without anyone understanding us; for example, I'll say 'I'm going to vomit if I eat any more deep fried pork) saying "wait, where's Dad?"

Crediting Rob's ingenious we have coined the term 'Carb City' for Cesi's meals as they always have four common components: rice, pasta, plantains, potatoes.

Last week, Katie, Jairo and I stayed at one of Jairo's friends, Santi's, finca ('farm') about an hour's drive from Manizales. This finca is not like the farm in Nicaragua by any means but more of a vacation home, or second home. There were two floors; the bottom floor with a kitchen and living room area and then a top floor with four bedrooms for sleeping. Right outside the house there's a pool overlooking hills devoted to farming.

My Spanish was challenged on the Finca, as I was the only one there who could not follow or keep up with the conversation. The hardest thing was trying to understand the rules to the drinking games we played in Spanish. I think most of the friends there thought I was pretty quiet; which is not the case por su puesto. I am so jealous of Katie's fluency and her ability to almost entirely understand and express what she wants to in Spanish!!!

Katie and I along with another World Teacher, Geraldine, have taken up Salsa classes at a place run by The Colombian Richard Simmons just down the street. There are great photographs of our dance instructor in his prime wearing much-too-tight outfits unbuttoned much-too-low exposing much-too-much chest hair that are fabulous and probably the main reason I keep showing up to dance class.

The first class was a disaster of trying to mimic seemingly simple dance moves with two left feet. I actually feel like that character in 'Best in Show' with two left feet when I dance. Nonetheless, it's fun to embarrass yourself and one of the older gentlemen in class took it upon his personal responsibility to make sure I at least was only two steps behind what everyone else was doing, and his effort was much appreciated.

Last weekend Katie left for Cartehena for 2 days to have teacher meetings, and I decided to try a different dance class that was a combination of sorts. Not knowing what to expect, I showed up and it ended up being more of a jazzercise-workout type of dance class, which I wouldn't have minded, if I hadn't upped the anti on my morning run routine around the soccer stadium that day. By the end of class, my legs felt like guava jelly and I was ready to get out of there; the first one with my jacket and bag in tow headed straight for the door. The entire class is taught in Spanish, of course, so I don't really understand what's going on completely but am able to understand and observe enough to get by. As I was reaching for the door, however, The Colombian Richard Simmons made an announcement that I had come all the way from The United States to take his dance classes and the entire class applauded for me, which was more embarrassing than not being able to dance.

This past Monday, another World Teacher, Pam, joined us for our weekly Salsa class and it was the most absurd one yet. We're convinced that The Colombian Richard Simmons was just showing off, and his legs would work double time- criss-crossing and kicking in indecipherable rhythms and then we would have to do what he did: a complete failure. Pam spent the class sitting on a chair laughing and I laughed with her, it was too ridiculous to try and keep up with this salsa dancing (but in all seriousness, Katie more or less kept up and Geraldine did, too).

While Katie was gone at teacher meetings last weekend in Cartehena, I enjoyed finishing reading 'The Motorcycle Diaries' and I adventured to Bosques Popular, which is the nearby park. I got on the right bus I needed across the street from our house, and took Katie's instructions on how to get to the park. She said that I couldn't miss it, but apparently I did as I was on the bus for longer than I thought I should be and didn't remember passing a park. I asked a woman on the bus who said we'd passed it a while back, but the bus eventually turned around. When we got to The End of the Line and it was just me and the bus driver, I told him I was a stupid American who didn't know where Bosque Popular was and would it be possible for me to stay on as he went back the way we came. The bus driver was really nice and did just that, and alerted me when we got to Bosque Popular.

I spent the rest of the day sitting on a tree stump in the park drawing. Since my Nature Drawing class I took last year,  I haven't devoted as much time as I would like to my kindergarden-esque, black ink, 2-dimensional drawings that look as if I'm trying to be an amateur. I'm fond of the lack of detail and general oddness of these drawings, and it's fun to just sit and draw.

I love that I have time to just read and draw, and knowing that my life is going to be planned and busy down to the minute when I get back to Burlington in the fall, I am really enjoying all the time I have to devote to just reading and drawing here.

Katie and I made a 'bucket list' of things I needed to accomplish while being in Manizales the day I got here, and I am officially crossing off 'learning to like coffee' from the list. Even if it is leche con cafe instead of cafe con leche, I'm hooked.

Yesterday I went with Katie for the second time to accompany her at school.

The first day I went with Katie to school, I did not know what to do to help and it was incredibly frustrating to watch these kindergarden and first graders literally running amuck in class not listening to anything and talking the entire class.

Katie is such a great teacher, with patience and fun games and activities planned for the students, and some of the students are such little shits that literally Katie is yelling over the students at times to try and get the student's attention, but if the students don't want to learn, then how can someone teach them?

Bracing myself for the monstrosities to come for my second day visiting Katie's school, we went to her fourth grade and fifth grade classes. The morning went so well, and I played Vanna White playing 'Memory' with pictures and words describing fruits and vegetables taped on a wall. The kids were so well behaved and their pronunciations and knowledge of English was great! These students were more advanced than some of the adults I worked with in language exchange classes in Nicaragua and I was really impressed.

During the second class, fifth grade, the students were working on question words; who, what, why, when, where and how (won't you tell me the answer now). When they were done with their activities, Katie had the students ask me questions. This activity worked really well and the students now know that my favorite soccer team is Ghana, my favorite singer is Hannah Montana (a little white lie to get the kids excited), I am 21 years old, my birthday is December 20th, and I live in Vermont.

I reminded Katie about when she brought me in to her first grade class for Show and Tell for a day where everyone had to bring in something that started with the letter 'S' and she brought me for Sister. I apparently said that I was going to come with wearing my best dressed for the occasion so that "all of the boys would fall in love with me" (this probably meant wearing my sweatshirt with a picture of my guinea pig and me on it and my Wizard of Oz ruby red slippers). We were laughing about this when a group of boys no older than 10 were staring at me, and Katie and I both agreed that I finally succeeded at making 'all the boys fall in love with me' (unfortunately this was about 16 years too late, but I'll count my successes).

At one point Katie drew a map of the US and drew Colorado, Chicago, and Vermont to show where our parents live and where we both live in the US. I overheard one of the boys in the front row mumbling to himself, "Colorado...Chicago....Vermont," and it was just about the sweetest thing.

The second half of the day didn't run as smoothly as the first half. The students were bouncing off the walls and after trying everything Katie could think of to no avail, she finally told the students that if they didn't want to learn then she didn't want to teach and we walked out of the class early.

I definitely don't have the patience to be a teacher, but Katie loves it. And if she loves it after dealing with so many of these ADD, crazy, little shitheads, then she must really love teaching. I admire her ability to stay sane in these situations and for the knack she has for teaching. It's been incredible to watch and I'm so proud of her!

As for me, I'll keep helping her as much as I can with coloring pictures for activities and cutting worksheets- and leave the patience and repetition of teaching to the expert.

Clubbing in Colombia

So I've never really been to a club.
When I was in Austria my sister and I tried to get into a club with our friend Fabian, and I didn't have a license so I showed my passport and the guy at the door was so confused that some one actually showed ID for a club that anyone can get into....that we didn't get in. Fabian lead us out of the corridor saying, 'Well, that was the first time I didn't get into a club.'
I've barely been to bars as I turned 21 right before I left for Ghana.

I don't really consider myself the clubbing type of gal, but going out to The Club, cleverly named, 'Simon Dice' (too many comments like 'Simon Dice says you're going to get hammered' ensued) last night for Jairo's birthday was a fun breach of character.
The bar and club scene in Manizales is fairly big as there are about 15 universities in the area, so it seems like everyone is out on the town drinking with intention to dance.
Seeing all of the college-aged drunkards guzzling down loads of greasy food, huddled in the streets; made me feel right at home or some sort of Reggaetone/Latin American version of a late night Boulder---since Vermont's 'late night scene' is more of a Honky Tonk Tuesday kind of thing or music venue etc.

The ambush to surprise Jairo was that Katie was going to take him out to a dinner of pasta while I helped the rest of the gang decorate Jairo, Rob and Juan Fey's apartment with balloons etc. Katie and Jairo came back and we all hid with the lights off, and yelled surprise just like we were supposed to.
Katie said Jairo had told her as they were coming back to the apartment that 'he really just wanted a low key night,' but that changed when he saw that all of us had already finished a bottle of Colombian's cheap, licorice tasting liquor, Crystal.

Katie and all her friends know every word to every Colombian and popular dance song.
The choruses repeat enough that I'm not too far from that after only 3 days of being here (and 3 days of Cesi constantly listening to OLYMPICA, the radio station whose jingle will never leave my head).
And everyone in the entirety of Manizales, I can conclusively say, is an incredible dancer. I would go so far as to say in the entirety of Colombia, but I of course only know Manizales.
When I dance I look like Ellen Degeneres and then if I'm trying to dance with some one else, I get flashbacks to awkward Bar and Bat Mitzvahs; but luckily I drank enough (possibly more than I've drank in an entire 6 months) to not really care.

A successful 23rd birthday to Jairo, indeed.

The Saga of Getting to Colombia

PART I: LEAVING THE ISLAND

I left the farm at 6:30 AM on Monday.

We caught the 7:00 AM bus to Moyogalpa, stopping to switch buses once. We ate at The Corner House and had eggs benedict and carrot cake, which we'd been anticipating for the entirety of our time in Balgues.

Made it to the ferry that took us from Moyogalpa to San Jorge in an hour. Didn't get sea sick.

Got on a 2 hour bus ride that took us to Managua.

Got out at a terminal, got in a taxi, made it to David's guest house in a rain storm.

David took us to a grocery store where I bought chorizo and we ate the whole package before we even left the parking lot.

PART II: GETTING TO BOGOTA

I left David's at 9:00 AM on Tuesday and took a taxi about 20 minutes to the Managua airport.

Thank God that the woman at the ticket counter asked if I had my return flights home, because I didn't have them printed and wouldn't have been allowed into Colombia. She was nice enough to let me log into my school email and print my return flight tickets from her Official Computer. *NOTE: #1 thing Katie forgot to tell me I needed*

My first flight was from Managua to San Salvador, El Salvador. This flight was about an hour and a half.

My second flight was from San Salvador to Bogota, Colombia. Had an hour layover and the flight was about 3 hours.

I arrived in Bogota at 7:00 PM. The woman at customs asked if I had my Visa.
Fuck. I didn't. I told her I was only staying for 3 weeks. She said that was fine, I think it's a minimum of a month stay to need a Visa for Colombia. *NOTE: #2 thing Katie forgot to talk with me about- a potential Visa*

My flight from Bogota to Manizales was 10 hours from then, at 5:50 AM. Not knowing much except that Bogota was probably as unsafe as the other cities I'd been in, I risked it and went with someone holding a sign for their hotel for a place to sleep for a few hours. The person said the hotel was only 10 minutes away and was the closest one to the airport, so I checked his license and pretended to use my phone as a paranoid safety precaution and went with it.

The hotel was way nicer than I would have liked, coming from living outside for 2 months especially, and looked like it was straight out of Canyon Ranch. Of course, I took pictures because I knew my dad would be proud that I for once stayed in a 'nice place.' I probably paid more than I should, but Bogota was expensive, and I was just happy to be in one piece after taking a taxi in a new city after dark on my lonesome. So the $50 for a safe stay seemed worth it to me.

PART III: COLD, HUNGRY, AND NOWHERE TO GO

Woke up at 4:00 AM from the hotel and hopped in a taxi with another person staying at the hotel headed for the airport.

Made it to my final flight with plenty of time to spare. Got my last ticket and got on the plane, ready to get to Manizales.

Then shit hit the fan. An announcement was made that I couldn't really understand (Spanish speaking only from this point forward), but I was able to understand that the Manizales airport was cerrado- closed- due to bad weather.

We all had to get off the plane we had just boarded.

So here I am, freezing in the Bogota airport; seriously, you could see your breath, and I'm just forced to wait to see if the Manizales airport opens. I end up putting on two pairs of leggings and tucking my leggings into wool socks I'm wearing with sandals, and have on a t shirt with a long sleeved shirt and a button-up shirt over that, and then draped my flowered dress over my legs to try and keep warm. I looked ridiculous, but coming from a tropical island climate to 50 degrees was a brutal shock to my system. *NOTE: #3 thing Katie forgot to tell me: How cold it is in Colombia*

After 3 hours of waiting, I venture out and buy cold arepas to add to the only food groups I'd been eating for two days: breads and cheeses. Then we were issued a new plane ticket to another airport in Colombia, Pereira  think, and were relocated in the airport.

Once there, we find out that this second airport was closed to. We had to wait more.

At this point, I spend too much money on roaming charges and phone my dad to tell him that he's right and if I want to be in a Spanish speaking place I'll just stick to Miami next time.

After 3 more hours of waiting, we fly to Pereira.

But the journey wasn't over, I had to take a 2 hour bus from there to Manizales.

By the time I made it to Katie, who now had to take off work to come and get me, I was exhausted, but mostly just happy to have made it!

PART IV: MANIZALES, JUST LIKE BOULDER, COLORADO

My first impressions of Manizales are that it's just like Boulder, which Katie seemed annoyed with. But seriously, Katie lives in the heart of this trendy down town area and residential houses and mountains are nearby in the distance.

My first day here was spent meeting Cesi, Katie's favorite member of her homestay family, Abuela and Madre. Also got to meet Katie's Band of Brothers: Rob, Jairo and Juan Fey and already love them.

Colombia is a foreign place to me with shops, grocery stores, cars, stop lights, and seems like this huge city to me coming from the remote island. Katie seems to have lots planned for us and in less than 24 hours of being here, we've already hit up two of her favorite coffee places. Shopping and morning dance classes await and I can't believe that this is my life- strutting around the city with my sister, a long ways away from shoveling pig shit in Nicaragua.

I just have to figure out a way to occupy myself from the hours of 1-6 every weekday while Katie teaches....but for now, I'm appreciative of the down time as I recover from all of the crazy travels it took to get here. I thought getting to Thailand, flying for over 24 hours, was as bad as flying could get- but I think I was proved wrong on this adventure to get here. Having three weeks with Katie, seeing her life here, is worth it!