Isla Grande, Pablo Escobar, and the Farc

 

Disclaimer - I talk about a lot of science and events, current, future, and past, in this blog, without having done, uh ANY, research. So don't take my word for it. But I call things as I hear/see them. But it all may just end up being a very bad round of Telephone.

Fun experiences:

- We went to one of the Rosario Islands for James' birthday weekend. The Rosario islands are an archipelago of 27 islands about an hour down the coast from Cartagena. We went to the biggest island, fittingly called Isla Grande. The day of our trip, we went through the mildly confusing lines at the dock and waited for our whole boat to show up. We actually left on time, and the boat ride was glorious. I LOVE being on boats, but I get sea sick pretty quickly. So I always take a Dramamine or two, but then I'm super drowsy and, frankly, delirious (even with the non-drowsy kind). Luckily, I did not get sea sick or delirious this time! The first half hour of the trip was spent in the Cartagena bay. The sun was beating on us, the boat wasn't going crazy fast, and the wind was perfect. The tour guide pointed out some landmarks along the way and we saw different parts of Cartagena, which was cool. We also passed the island that is right off of the coast of Cartagena, Tierra Bomba, and decided that we should go there and spread the gospel...or get killed. Maybe if we ever come back here, we'll live there. Once we finally got out to open water, the wind was slightly colder, and the ocean was choppy, but overall still a delightful boat trip.

One of the humble villages on Tierra Bomba...not my picture, but a good representation of life on the island.

We got to our resort and were ushered in for our orientation.  Most tourists who come to Cartagena usually make the Rosario Islands one of their stops, despite the fact that it's a little bit of a hassle (I think). But MOST people who go to the islands are just there on a day trip. So they leave at 9:00 AM from Cartagena and have to get back on the boat on the islands at 3:00 PM. But during that time, they get to enjoy the resort. We didn't think it was worth the money to do that, so we paid a little more and stayed the night, meaning we had the resort pretty much to ourselves after 3:00 PM. That's the way to do it, if you ever go to the islands. We got juice upon entering the resort and I think it was the tastiest juice we've had since coming here. We asked the guy multiple times what it was made of, and he just kept saying "fruit". So that's pretty sketchy. But it was delicious. We went and staked out some hammocks and just tried to kill the time until lunch time, because we were starving. We love all-inclusive resorts because you can eat any time you want. Seriously, I think eating any time we want is our number one thing in common with each other. So we were expecting this all-inclusive island resort to be the same as our cruise and our Mexican resorts. Silly us, having expectations in Colombia. The guy at the desk told us that lunch was from 12:30-2 and dinner was from 7-8:45, and then we'd get breakfast and lunch the next day. And that's all we got. We tried to go to the pool bar and see if they would feed us, and they told us that we only get the meals for free. And they didn't have anything anyways. It was at this point that we realized we DID NOT bring enough snacks.  I initially wrote like 4 paragraphs detailing the ridiculousness of every meal, but I ended up deleting them because they were just negative. So let's just leave it at this: this all-inclusive resort was different from others we have been to and we would not pay for it again.

After lunch, we went back to the room where I promptly feel asleep on top of the covers in a Dramamine induced coma. Poor James. When I woke up, we wandered around the mangrove forests and found two other resorts plus a grouping of abandoned buildings where we almost certainly would have been killed if it had been dark. There were land crabs EVERYWHERE in the mangrove forests.  And we got eaten ALIVE by mosquitos. And we totally had bug spray laying on our bed in the room, too. Stupid Bullingers. I still look like a meth addict a week and a half later.  The forests were cool, but alas, we did not see any monkeys or cool island wildlife.

Worth mentioning is the only other gringo at the resort at this point. He was a man in his 50s with a smoking hot Colombian "companion" in her 40s. We tried to figure out what the arrangement was here because they were super PDA but clearly didn't know each other very well.  She spoke very broken English and he did not speak a word of Spanish. My theory was that they had been chatting online for 3 months and he finally came down to meet her in person. Whatever the arrangement, it was clear by the boat ride home that neither of them got what they had expected from this trip, if you know what I mean. But this gringo man deserves a mention. He was the worst possible gringo tourist. Never tried to speak Spanish, spoke English to the employees whom he knew did not speak English, demanded to speak to someone who spoke English (of which there were none), talked about how ridiculous Colombian things were, asked for extra things and service that no one else asked for, and commanded his girlfriend to translate things that she clearly did not want to translate. He was the worst, but also hilarious to watch. I just felt bad for the Colombian employees. I'm sure they were so happy when he left the next day.
The next morning after breakfast, we went to go grab some hammocks before the new horde of day-trippers arrived, and got stopped by a Colombian who wanted to take us snorkeling. James talked him down to half price (ended up being about $15 total for both of us) and we grabbed our snorkels and left. He took us to the other side of the island and we snorkeled for about a half hour with a Colombian couple that had come along with us. I had never seen coral, tropical fishes or anything like that, but James had, so he wasn't impressed. But there were lots of cool fish and the water was the perfect temperature and perfectly clear. We hopped back in the boat and he took us to a different part of the island where Pablo Escobar (allegedly) had sunk one of his planes. Uh...what?! James and I hopped out of the boat to go take a look (the Colombians couldn't swim in deep water) and looked down about 20 feet to see the eeriest thing I've ever seen. The plane was only about 20 feet down but you could see it perfectly from the surface. It was just a little plane, but it had been down there 20+ years (according to our guide) and so things were growing on it, swimming through it, etc. And the ocean wasn't as clear there, so it was weirdly shadowed and had a green tinge. Super spooky and one of the coolest things I've ever seen. I was super excited to get back home to research it, but after James and I looked on the internet for 20+ minutes, we could not find any record of Pablo Escobar sinking a plane near Isla Grande. Even while editing this post, I went back to see if I could find record of it...still no. So, uh...what the heck was that? Or is this some conspiracy? Super weird. On a similar note, across the small cove from the sunken plane was a huge abandoned estate. We excitedly asked the guide who owned that house, naturally thinking it was Pablo Escobar's, and he said "Oh, some guy tried to build a resort and he ran out of money so his son takes care of it now."  Even from across the cove we could see that there were at squatters living there, since there was laundry strung up, so his story seemed strange.  We were disappointed, but upon our research when we got home, we found out that that WAS Pablo Escobar's house, and there are squatters/protectors living there, making sure no one takes over his grounds? Here's an interesting and eerie read about it: http://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/breaking-into-the-ruins-of-pablo-escobar-s-secret-island-mansion. But why did our guide say it was someone else's? SO WEIRD! But definitely the coolest part of the trip.

Pablo's former island estate

We got back to the hotel and swam until lunch. The water by our hotel was clear for about 30 feet, then dropped off into coral and open ocean. But there were more fish in the water by our hotel than there were out where we snorkeled. We may or may not have seen a barracuda and we saw the weirdest looking needle fish ever. They were my favorite of the trip. Lunch was pretty uneventful, except for the gross pudding dessert that still haunts me, and then we swam some more before the boat came at 3. In this time, the new wave of people had shown up, so the table where we had laid our stuff in the morning to go swimming was occupied when I got out of the water. One of the guys (picture a Latin Hank from Breaking Bad) asked if it was OK if they put their stuff there and I told him it was fine. Then he offered me some rum, which I declined. James came up and he started talking to them. Turns out they were Peruvian and they hate Colombian food as much as we do. Fun coincidence...other guy in the party was wearing a Heisenberg shirt. Latin Hank and Heisenberg! Is it sad that that was one of the highlights of the trip for me? We had another delightful boat ride home in the setting sun. One of the Colombians in the boat pulled out a baby bottle, poured a juice box of Ensure into it, grabbed her 4-YEAR-OLD, tipped him back and plunked the bottle in his mouth. Baby bottle for a 4-year-old? Oh, Colombia. Anyways...overall, it was a great trip.

Neither of these are our pictures, but they look like the Barracuda and Needlefish that we saw.

-So apparently there has been a war going on in Colombia? I know it makes us sound downright ignorant to say that we had no idea that it was going on but...we had no idea it was going on. Apparently the guerillas (the Farc) have been fighting the government in the interior of the country. Who knew? But they have finally reached an agreement to end the fighting, and so they will be signing a treaty with the Colombian president later this week. The best part (and really the only reason we know about any of this) is that the Colombian president and Farc leaders will be signing said treaty right next door to James' school! Pretty cool, right? And, bonus, he gets that day or the next Monday off, because it will now be a national holiday. September is one of the only months that does not have a national holiday in Colombia, but not anymore! So we'll be witnessing history...the end of a war, and a new national holiday. I think that's pretty cool! I hope we see/experience something in that time but...really, it will probably just be a normal day. We'll see and report back.

-Speaking of the Farc, one of its leaders was captured and put on house arrest in the rich part of Cartagena.  Some Cartagena residents decided to take matters into their own hands and try to kill him, so there was a shoot-out a few days ago, a mere 3 miles from our house. I'm just surprised that things like this can happen so close to you, and it doesn't affect your day at all. Not to say that these things happen here all the time...because they never do...but I think I would have affected me more in the states, but that's just because it would have been all over TV and social media. You can't get away from stuff in the states.

-Last weekend, I went to a baby shower for one of the ladies who is in Primary with me. I walked onto the patio and Big Mama, her mom who is also in our ward, looked at me with delight and then the expression quickly turned to one of worry, and then she plastered a smile on, but still had worried eyebrows. It was hilarious. I will never forget that moment. You know when you invite a friend to a party, and you really want her to come, but you know that it will be awkward for her because she doesn't know the rest of your friends? That is exactly what was running through this woman's mind. So I tried to act really enthusiastic so she wouldn't worry about me...but then after 5 minutes, Big Papa kicked someone out of their seat so I could sit next to a woman from Bogota who spoke English. I was kind of bummed, because I was hoping (and dreading) to get out of my comfort zone a little and try to communicate with the rest of the party, but I ended up having a really nice time speaking English with this woman. And I got a few awkwardly phrased Spanish conversations in as well. So all in all, I had a good time at the party. My favorite part was when they passed around a plate of deditos, which are breadsticks filled with mozzarella.  Those are my favorite things I've found in Cartagena.  But these were even better. They were batter dipped or something, so the outside was similar to a Utah scone (or a Native American scone? I'm not really sure what those are, but I've only ever had them in Utah). They were delicious. So they sent deditos around twice, then chips, soda, marshmallows, lollipops, caramels, and rice with hot dogs and chicken and crackers. And that was just while I was there...who knows what else they had after I left. They had a table full of cake and cookies, so there was at least that as well. Moral of the story, Colombians know how to party.

Differences between the states and Colombia:

-The dogs here are weird looking. Manginess aside, they are breeds that I have never seen before.  James says that they look like dogs that have bred with anteaters. That is exactly what they look like. Their noses are longer and pointier, their bodies are a little bit too long, and their tails are skinny and gross. Just picture a medium-sized, tan-colored dog breeding with an anteater, and you've got it.

- A lot of the girls/women here don't shave their armpits or legs. And if they shave, they usually only shave their calves, which means that you can see their dark, curly, thigh hair when they wear short shorts. Which they do often. So it's every woman's dreamland.

-Sales tax here is like 16%. That's crazy, right?! We used to complain about 8+% in California, but geez! The weird thing is that I didn't notice this until recently. We noticed it when we go to the rich part of town because our Subway total is greater, but I just thought that the tax was higher there. And I still think it is only in parts of town...but I haven't quite figured it out yet. Sometimes I pay 16% and sometimes I pay less.

- Our utilities have been all over the place lately. One day, they turned off our gas for all day. They warned us the day before, so we were prepared, but then instead of one day, it ended up being 2 1/2. Which meant I couldn't cook for like 5 meals. It was not good. Luckily, we have a microwave and toaster oven, but they don't really sell freezer meals here...so we had to get pretty creative. Then yesterday, they told us the water would be off from 2-6. The water finally came on at 7:50. I just try really hard not to actually expect things to come on when they say they will...but it doesn't work. I just get angry. Maybe by the end of our time here, I'll be more laid-back.

- In the states, people talk about how delicious Colombian coffee is. Being non-coffee drinkers ourselves, we don't really know. But Cartagenians and tourists alike say that the coffee here is terrible. They ship all of the good stuff out of the country. So that's interesting.

- When we were on the island, the smell that I call "the Colombia smell" was super strong. I was confused, because the island was relatively clean and not filled with thousands of people. BUT we went wandering through the mangrove forests and James said that one of his students told him that mangroves give off methane gas, so my "Colombia smell" has actually just been tree farts, not trash, pee, and gross food like I thought. While I'm sure those do contribute to the overall aroma of Cartagena, the pungent Colombia smell is actually just coming from the mangroves surrounding the lagoon. I'm relieved and disgusted.
- I was trying to find a way to send documents here from America this week for less than $80 (seriously). While searching, I came across a blog that could have been written by me, if I was a better writer. Seriously, it's PERFECT. An Irish guy living in Cali, Colombia (other side of the country) wrote about 21 things he hates about Colombia. I don't want that to turn you off, because he actually really loves living in Colombia and is generally positive about it, but this post talks about dang near every single thing that makes Colombia seem ridiculous to our more developed (spoiled) countries. I loved it, and thought I'd share it here in case you guys also wanted to take a gander: https://thedancingirishman.com/2013/02/12/21-things-i-fking-hate-about-colombia/ . Like this man, I also think that there are a lot of great things about Colombia, and I don't want to focus on the negative, but it's a hilarious article that I feel like paints a pretty good picture of what it's like for an American/European to live here.

That's all for this week!  Chao!

James's birthday, Colombian airport, and land crabs

Well, we've had our first (real) holiday in Colombia and away from friends and family. That's right, yesterday was my handsome husband's birthday. The unofficial theme was "America". I bought him "an Easter basket of American food" (as he put it), we had french toast for breakfast (wait, is that American or French?), Dominos for lunch, Pillsbury cake with Betty Crocker frosting (made in a toaster oven...turned out way better than I expected), and then cheese, bacon, ranch potatoes (unfortunately made with Kraft Fat Free Ranch because that was the only ranch in Colombia at the time). James worked, so we didn't do anything exciting yesterday, but we are going away to the islands this weekend. So I'm sure you'll be hearing plenty about that next!

Fun experiences:

- I didn't talk a lot about my trip to California at the beginning of the month. I think it can be summed up by saying that we just waited in line for 3 days. Seriously, everything we did took FOREVER. Note to everyone: LA in the summer is not a pleasant place to be because it's where EVERYONE wants to be. But it was good to see my mom, sleep on comfortable mattresses (yes, cheap hotels have better mattresses than my furnished Colombian apartment), take hot showers (of which I took like 7 in 3 days), and eat American food. A weird thing that I experienced in the states was accents. For some reason, I had a terrible time understanding people's accented English. In Atlanta, I couldn't understand anyone's Southern accents. And then in California, I couldn't understand Mexican accented English, which was super weird. However, I could understand the Mexican Spanish easier than the Costeno Spanish. Go figure. But the most interesting parts of my trip were my navigating the Colombian airport without my translator.

I ordered an Uber to get to the airport because what they quoted me was cheaper than a taxi. It ended up being more expensive because Colombia is just always confusing. My driver put my suitcase in the trunk, got in the car, and facing forward, asked me in Spanish if I was going to the airport. Because he was facing forward (and probably because I was nervous), I didn't hear him and I asked him...what? He looked at me in the rearview mirror and I saw the knowing (and no, I don't mean knowledge.  It's my blog and I'll make up expressions if I want to). In that moment, even though I responded to him in Spanish, he understood that I didn't speak Spanish. I love/hate this moment. It's no secret that I have a general love/hate relationship with learning, speaking, and listening to Spanish. Let me explain. When I initially meet someone, I really like to fool them, and make them think I speak Spanish. It boosts my confidence if they think I speak Spanish. I immediately regret that decision when they actually try to speak Spanish to me alone and expect a response. I know, I'm a complicated person. But back to the Uber driver...when I see the knowing in Colombians' eyes (because that's where you see it), I am sad I couldn't keep it going longer. But then of course I was relieved that I didn't have to make conversation with this Uber driver whom I could barely hear. Love/hate.

When I got to the airport, I got into the Delta line. As per Colombian tradition, the lines were super confusing, Spanish aside. I picked the line I thought I was supposed to be in, because all the other gringos were in that line. Turns out, we were all in the wrong line. But it was fine, it didn't end up taking more time, because a nice Colombian Delta employee who spoke dang near perfect English (pretty rare here) came and herded us to the right place and got our tickets from the hidden self-serve machines. Stupid gringos. Then while we were waiting to check bags (in the right line this time), we had a security check point (yes, before the actual security). This was like Delta's security? I'm still not sure what it was, but what I do know is that the jerk American tourists in front of and behind me were absolutely OUTRAGED that this existed. Once again, c'mon American tourists. Don't be those people. Yes, it was ridiculous that we had to answer 20 questions before even getting our bags checked. Yes, the questions were ridiculous (What is your favorite hobby? How long have you been going to the university?).  Yes, the Delta security girls spoke terrible English (Hey, they were trying!  And you're in their country, not vice versa!)  But really? EVERYONE I encountered at the airport was SOOO nice. As you know, niceness is not something gringos experience often in Cartagena. So I felt like I was in heaven. I would initially try to speak Spanish to all the Delta people, but I would see the knowing and they would switch to English. Again, while I never EXPECT anyone to speak English in Colombia, I am mighty grateful when they do. So let's be grateful, jerk gringos!

After finally getting through Delta security and the bag check, I got into the line for actual security. And then customs. Yes, you have to go through customs even to LEAVE Colombia. Luckily, I had arrived at the airport in plenty of time, so I was just enjoying the nice treatment from the Colombians. The guy I got for customs did not speak English. I answered his questions in Spanish and then he started chatting with me. Again, love/hate this situation. He asked me if I learned salsa dancing while I was here, and I thought he said something completely different and answered that question that he hadn't really asked. At this point he just decided that it was cute that I didn't speak Spanish, so he teased me a little and sent me away with both of us laughing. So I give my Colombian airport experience an A+.

Coming back, I obviously had to go through customs again. I was practicing my initial sentence in my head for the whole hour I had to wait in line. Then I got up to the guy (who didn't speak English) and told him in Spanish that I live in Colombia with my wife. He raised his eyebrows and said "your wife?" And then I started laughing and corrected myself and he threw his head back and laughed at me for like 30 seconds straight. It was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. Then through the rest of the conversation (which went much better), he would pause, shake his head, smile and say "psh, your wife." I literally made his day, maybe even his whole month. But it was super funny.

-James and I are advisors (? is that the English word I'm looking for?) to the young single adults at church. But a couple of weeks after we got that calling, James also got called to be a counselor in the Sunday School Presidency. Which means that he had to teach a teacher's class every week, so I sat in the JAS class by myself. It was fine, it was good for me to just sit and listen, even if I couldn't participate in anything other than reading scriptures. But we would always miss the JAS activities because they would announce them in class and I would have no idea what was going on. So now James' class has ended, so and he gets to sit in JAS (jovenes adultos solteros) with me (yay!). Anyway, we now know when they have activities. So we have been to two family home evenings and a cake/pizza-making activity at the other gringos' apartment. The best part is getting to see more of Colombia, because most of them live in the "real Colombia" neighborhood behind our building. Highlights from these activities are as follows: 1) The cake/pizza making activity took 5 hours, but we didn't even care because we are getting used to "Colombian Mormon standard time"...and we got fed. 2) They didn't know how to use a can opener. It took 6 of them to figure it out. We just sat back and laughed. 3) One of the girls lives in an apartment building that her grandpa built for her family. At one point, members of her family occupied the whole building, but now there are a few apartments rented out to others. I would guess that there were 8-10 apartments in the building. I would have loved being that close to my cousins growing up. 4) Last week, we were walking through what were essentially dirt alleys to someone's house. James and I were walking at the back of the group (we all met somewhere and walked together), and one of the girls doubled back to walk behind us because she was worried about something happening to the gringos. I didn't feel unsafe, but I probably would have if we hadn't been walking with a group of Colombians. The house we went to had a dining room, kitchen/laundry, bathroom, and two rooms which had curtains for doors, one of which had a TV. There were at least 1 adult and 3 children living there, and possibly 2 more adults. So 4-6 people were living in 1-2 bedrooms. It really just makes me think about how spoiled we are in America. We all used to sleep in one room in the Middle Ages...when did we decide that we need more bedrooms/bathrooms than people? Colombia has given me a new perspective on, well, everything.

One of the smaller giant "bat-moths" that we get in our apartment on a regular basis.

Differences between the states and Colombia:

-They don't really use lawn mowers here (not that there is a lot of grass, other than by the wall), but when they mow grass (or weeds as is often the case), they just use a weed-wacker. And they dress up in what I can only imagine are SWELTERING beekeeper suits.

-This is one of my favorite, most Colombian things I've seen. Yes, it needs to be said. Neighbors, stop throwing your trash out the windows! Oh, Colombia.

-The architecture here confuses me. There are many a new building being built in our neighborhood and they just don't do it right! We have the beach in front of us and the gross lagoon (which the Colombians thinks count as a "view"), castle, monastery, and general city views behind us. So where do you think they put the windows on these buildings? Naturally, on the sides! I don't really want to look at the ocean or city, I'd rather look into my neighbor's laundry room, thanks.

-Kites, kites, and more kites. August is kite month. Seriously, I think August 1st was the first time I saw kites, and I saw 8 billion of them instantly. Everyone gathers by the wall and flies kites all day, every day. I'm not sure why August is the month but I guess it has been slightly windier? Not as "dry" and sunny as March-July, and not as windy and January and February, but more rainy and humid than any other month. So I guess that's ideal kite weather?

-James and I walk on the grass in the shadow of the wall on his way to work every day. There's a place where there are a lot of holes in the grass, but I just chalked that up to Colombia. A couple of weeks ago, I saw a FREAKIN' LAND CRAB crawl out of one of these holes. It was medium-sized (medium-sized to me is like 5 inches from leg to leg) and grayish white. Needless to say, I now brave the hot Colombian sun rather than walk in the land of giant, slightly less creepy, spiders.

-A lot of Colombian women walk around with umbrellas on sunny days, because, ya know, it's like 110 degrees. I am in full support of this, although I myself don't think it's worth it to lug around an umbrella all the time. And, half of the time, I want to kill people who use them. My constant complaint about Colombia is the sidewalks...there are a billion people here, and most places you have to walk single file on a sidewalk behind someone going -3 miles an hour. But of course, we all try to walk two people because there's a billion people. It's frustrating enough in general...but then add an umbrella to the mix and it becomes downright dangerous. I can't tell you how many times I've had to crouch down to half my height (because I am considerably taller than most Colombian women, even with their 6 inch wedges) just to not get my eye taken out by a passing umbrella. Or I have to walk out into the street, risking getting hit by one of the aggressive taxis. C'mon Colombia. Have some sidewalk and umbrella etiquette.

I think that's it for now...we have some church activities coming up that I'm sure we'll want to document here.  And we're going to the islands!  Also stay tuned for James' tale of his trip to Tayrona (aka, the jungle) at the beginning of this month. I'm sure it will be just as entertaining as his last post. If you haven't read that one, go back and do it!  Hasta luego!

A cute restaurant that I found downtown.  I know nothing about it.

 

Totumo: A Gringo in Cartagena's Mud Volcano

I had heard about Totumo Volcano from lots of sources. It's one of the touristy things that people do when they visit Cartagena. All I'd seen was pictures of people covered in mud. I talked to a lot of my students, and was surprised at how many of them had been to the mud volcano. Getting covered in mud doesn't seem like Ariel's cup of tea, so, when she was in California visiting her mom, I was bored and decided to go.

First, I had to find a way to get there. I did some internet research and found a few sites that would sell you a ticket for like $90, but they didn't give much information. I decided to look around the city center for tourist places that take you. I'd seen people on the side of the street with like, posterboard signs with the mudded up white people pictures on them. I figured they would be the cheapest/most willing to haggle. I walked all around the center and didn't find a single posterboarder. Next, I went into a tourist adventure seller's place. I talked to three different places and they all had the same price, so I bought my ticket from Adventure Tours Colombia, on Calle La Factoria, right across from my school (could have saved myself half a day) for 45,000 pesos (about 15 bucks), don't buy tickets online. They called someone and told them where I lived and asked if they had room for one more, then they told me the van would pick me up at 2:30, but to be ready early just in case.

I went down to the lobby of my building at 2:15, right when the bus agent, a very overweight Colombian woman, waddled in. She asked the doorman for me, and I said I was me and we waddled out to the bus together. She was excited I was good at Spanish, as I assume she is used to regular tourists, not returned missionaries. The "bus" was an old, Chinese make, mini-van with five seats in the back. This may seem disappointing, but it actually meant that my "tour group" was small, and that ended up being wonderful. The bus agent slunk in the passenger seat as I ducked my head into the van. The only other passengers in the van were two very white people in Teva sandals. It reaffirmed for me that Totumo is for tourists.

They were in the two seat bench and so I climbed behind them and sat in the back. We had awkward introductions, not names just where they were from (girl form New Zealand, boy from Australia - now they live in Queensland) and what they were doing in Colombia (traveling for a year, they had started in the U.S. and just come to South America the week before). Then we stopped at a hotel just up the road from my apartment and collected another couple. They had a nice Latin look about them, and I thought, "Oh good, some people from Bogota or Cali. Not tourists." It was not the case. They climbed in next to me and started speaking Portuguese. Freakin Brazilians!

The bus agent explained quickly how things would go for the day, in pretty good English. She said it would be an hour drive to the volcano. Through the tour we bought, we got free lockers at the volcano. They would massage us at the volcano for 4,000 pesos ($1.35). They would take our picture in the volcano with our camera for 4,000 pesos. They would provide showers for 4,000 pesos. Then the bus agent said that people didn't speak English at the volcano, and that the bus driver didn't speak English. Then she got out of the bus, climbed into a taxi and left. We started our drive towards the volcano.

I started to try to have the awkward introduction with the Brazilians in Spanish, but they told me their English was better. Great. But it was pretty great. The five of us talked about travel, the Olympics, Cartagena, and soccer. We bonded pretty well on that hour drive, and since I was the only one who spoke Spanish, and the one who had been in Cartagena the longest, I felt more like a guide than a fifth wheel.

When we pulled up to the volcano, it was better than I had imagined. It looked like a little land zit with crappy wooden stairs scaffolded onto it. The surrounding area was dominated by little huts, with what looked like villagers waiting to prey on the tourists coin. I loved it. We parked in front of the biggest and best looking hut and filed in. Our driver pointed to where the showers were (around the back of the building) and where the changing rooms/lockers were. We went into the locker room where they had curtains up if you needed to change. We were all wearing our swim suits, so we didn't have to change, just strip off our other clothes. The New Zealand girl laughed and said, "You guys can't judge me for my suit. I bought a 5 mil suit ($1.67) in Cartagena because I didn't want to ruin mine." Clever girl. We left our towels, wallets, clothes, and anything else of value in the lockers, except cameras if you wanted them to take pictures. Then they told us we had to leave our sandals too. That was the hardest part.

We walked gingerly through the pebble and broken glass parking lot, and started to climb the surprisingly firm wooden staircase. They had carved the stairs out of the mud itself and built wood around it to hold it in place. It was uneven and steep, but effective. Everyone stopped to take pictures, one benefit of our small group.

At the top you had a nice view of a valley and a cienega, which when you look it up translates to cienega, but it's basically a swamp. But you don't look at the view, you look down into a pit of dark mud about the size of a nice above ground pool, with monsters floating in it. When we got there, there were like four people covered completely in mud in one corner, plus the Colombian mud pit assistants, three men with mud only up to their necks wearing baseball hats. We handed our phones and cameras to the camera guy (tip: don't have your screen locked because you wont be able to touch your phone-because of the mud (come on, think Brazilian guy)) and he took pictures as we climbed into the mud. One of the pit assistants helped you find your footing as you climbed backwards down a handmade wooden ladder, whispering "relax, relax, head down, relax." When he had you floating on your back, he would push you river-log style to another assistant who would then begin to "massage" you. Basically they would just cover you in mud and rub your arms and legs, then flip you onto your stomach, so you have to hold your head up, and rub your back. Definitely not worth the 4 mil, unless you want to watch your friends be uncomfortable.

Then we just floated around a bit. it was weird. You couldn't sink. The best position was standing straight up. If you brought up a leg, you'd kind of make your body float up and lose your balance. The mud wasn't warm, but it wasn't really cold either. I expected it to be the consistency of mud I had experienced before, but it was more like thick water with small hard particles, like tiny bits of debris. The people that were there before us got out and the five of us just sort of "swam" around. One of the guys said the pit went down like a mile and a half, but I don't know how he measured it. So, it was nice to enjoy the peacefulness of just us five relaxing in the mud. Then a tour bus arrived and the party started.

All of a sudden, people were lined up around the ledge of the pit (notice, I've begun to call it a pit instead of a volcano, I feel like it's a more accurate description) looking at us like we were monsters. We moved back to a corner as the new arrivals were processed by the pit assistants. The new arrivals were hilarious. There was a girl from Ireland that was incredibly uncomfortable with the massage and had them stop. And then there was a group of large black women. They were yelling to each other in a language I didn't recognize. I thought it might be Portuguese, the Brazilians thought it might be an African dialect, the Aussie didn't know. It was Creole, French, Spanish and English. The group was from Haiti and mixed their tongues with the greatest of ease. The large black women were wearing very revealing swimsuits, especially for their size, and we all got a good look as they lowered their girth backward down the wooden ladder into the pit. They shouted and cursed as their flabby bodies floated of their own accord during the massages. They grabbed the scant cloth of their swimsuits and tried to reel a breast back into place as their leg floated up, and the Colombian man smeared mud on their neck. Overall it was hilarious. There were now probably about fifteen or twenty people in the mud, and it was like a messy rave (I assume). Everyone was having a good time, bumping into one another, laughing, and trying to gain some sort of control of their faculties. After about ten minutes of that everyone was told to get out. We had been in about 30 minutes longer than the tour group, so we didn't mind, but I felt bad that they were getting kicked out so soon.

As you climb another homemade (or artisanal if your prefer) ladder out of the pit, one of the pit assistants scrapes excess mud off your body. He also almost scrapped by shorts off my hips. I had to hold on to them or I would have been pantsed in full view of the Haitians. You then climb down a different set of mud/wood stairs, but this time the stairs are slick with mud. As you walk-slide down the side of the mountain, trying to keep your mud sodden drawers up, take a moment to enjoy the view.

At the bottom we started heading to where we had been told the showers were, but we were intercepted by a lady who pointed down a row of huts and said we had to get rinsed off down there first. My group didn't understand so I helped by telling them that "They want to rape us down there before we get showered off." I didn't know how accurate my joke was.

We walked down, what was once a path, towards the cienega. New Zealand had heard that they washed you off in the cienega, but had been told by her booking agent that it was too low for that. The path was downhill, lined by huts selling beer and snacks, and a pretty rough walk without shoes on. As the path leveled out, we saw a giant tub of water, the kind they usually have for cattle to drink out of. Colombian women literally appeared out of the woods as we approached. New Zealand was told she was going somewhere else and looked at us frantically as she was lead to a separate location. There was nothing we could do. We were ushered onto overturned crates and a woman took a Tupperware bowl, dipped it into the filthy water in the tank, and poured it over my head. The next five minutes were a blur. She scrubbed and picked at my hair. Splashed water in my face. I glanced over and saw two women waterboarding the girl from Brazil, while her boyfriend was on his feet, shaking his head and looking like he was trying to fight his washer woman off. I was stood up, turned around and my washer woman pulled my trunks away from my body, dumped water down my butt and scrubbed. I went to trying to clean the front of my shorts as best I could, so she wouldn't feel the need to help. It almost worked. Aussie had taken the Tupperware from his washer woman and was cleaning himself. I reached for mine, but was denied. Brazilian girl was holding onto her swimsuit for her life. Eventually I was pushed over the giant bucket and pail after pail of water was poured over my head. My washer woman then pulled a scrunchie from her fanny pack, put it on my wrist, forced me to look into her eyes and said, "Angelica, Angelica, Angelica." She wouldn't let go of my wrist until I repeated her name. No one else had a scrunchie on their wrist. "I think I just got engaged" I told Brazil.

New Zealand stumbled back onto the path as we started up towards the lockers. "We're all so quiet" I observed. "It's like we were just in a car accident or something" said Aussie. I said "Yeah, aren't we supposed to talk to a grown up if someone touches us like that?" New Zealand said she was just on the other side of the trees, she could see us, but there was a guy just sitting there nonchalant while her washer woman was "all up in" her bathing suit.

We got back to the locker room and they pointed behind the building where the showers were, if we wanted to wash off the cienega water. We did. We all rinsed off, amazed at how trusting we were of water tapped out of who knows where after being accosted with gross barrel water. As we were finishing, the Haitians came strolling up, tops off, breasts swaying in the wind. The Colombians loved it. We got changed, they gave us a free slice of watermelon, and then the people came to collect their tips. You paid them each, for whatever you used (massage, photos (and got your camera back), and washer woman). After Angelica had claimed her money and her scrunchie, we were piled back into the van and went home.

The whole thing took about four hours. I wouldn't do it again, unless I was with someone who I would enjoy watching be uncomfortable, but I'm glad I did it the once.

Let's get real...with a splash of Barranquilla and Puerto Colombia

No, not Colombia...Malibu.  Remember how the Pacific Ocean is blue and not green?!

Dudes, I am homesick for the first time. My mom flew me to California last weekend for a girls' weekend (thanks mom!) and ever since coming back, I've been hardcore homesick. Well, hardcore for me. I guess it's pretty good that it took me 7 months to get homesick, but I am not enjoying it. For instance, tonight I walked dejectedly home in the rain from James' work. When I arrived home, I curled up under my sheet and ate a brownie and like 3 chocolate bars (OK, so maybe biology isn't exactly in my favor this week either, if you know what I mean).

I don't write this for sympathy, or so that our families will call us and order us to come home (please don't do that), but rather to be real. Everything is not cool adventure all the time. There are times that I really dislike Colombia. Guys, it's HARD living in another country. America, with all of its flaws, is still an AMAZING place. Especially for those of us who grew up there. Other countries are not America (duh), despite the American stores and fast food popping up all over the world. There are many things that I personally think Colombia does better than America. But in reality, those numbers are much lower than the number of things that I think America does better than Colombia.

So for any of you out there that think "if Ariel and James can do it, so can I!", you need to be real with yourself. I don't want to deter you from having the awesome adventure that we are having, but I want you to really do some soul searching and make sure you don't commit yourself to something you can't handle. Colombia in most ways has either simply met or exceeded my expectations. There have been very few big disappointments, because I had very few incorrect assumptions about what it would be like here, thanks to my husband's South America experience and my research. However, that does not mean that the things I expected/prepared myself for are not still super frustrating. Once again, this is not America. Things are not the same here. I can't communicate with most people. I don't know the customs or even simple things like where to stand in line at a bank, immigration, etc. And it's HARD. I'm sure many of you are more daring and less inhibited than I am, and for you, life will probably be much easier. Hello, I'm married to that person. I know that he has fewer struggles than I do because he puts himself out there (Spanish fluency aside). But even he gets frustrated a lot. Sometimes you are just going to have bad days. And sometimes I tell James "I'm not in the mood for Colombia today." Because it's just different and I miss my familiar things. 

That being said, even if I don't learn Spanish, even if I don't become more humble and tolerant and less spoiled, I could never deny that this has been and will continue to be a great experience. Unless James or I get kidnapped or die, there will be no regret for me. I have no doubt that I will fondly look back on my time in Colombia for the rest of my life. We'll be home sooner than I think and then I'm sure I'll miss the simple life we have had here. So my advice to you (and myself), if Colombia or _____ (insert country here) has got you down, you should try to think about the good. Because I can guarantee you can find some. And, I'm finding it pretty cathartic to pound these thoughts out on my keyboard and send them into the great unknown. So also start a blog and make people read your rants.

Now to the happy...we went on some adventures recently!

Two weekends ago, we went to Barranquilla with the gringos. Barranquilla is a city about an hour and a half north of us on the coast. When we went to Santa Marta in February, we passed through the edge, but we didn't get to see much of the city. This time, we stayed with a gringos in a super swanky apartment provided by gringo dad's job (job perks, what?!). It was super cool, but also still a little Colombian (see art and accessories).

We went up there to go to the zoo with the girls...and because Barranquilla has a Costco-like store where they sell some American things in bulk. Uh, yes please!  I know what you want to know...what were our highlights from the MockCo (get it?)? The best things we got were Ghirardelli brownies and dill pickles. You know, the comfort food. The zoo was cool, but not as cool as the aviary because it was just like any zoo.

But it did have a white tiger so...

The coolest part of Barranquilla was the city itself. As we were driving around, I said it looked kind of like North LA and James said it looked kind of like San Diego. So that should give you a picture? It was very urban and I almost didn't feel like I was in Colombia. They even had Arizona style tract homes! I think that if we had visited Barranquilla when we first came to Colombia, I would have picked to live there rather than Cartagena, just because it looked more like home. But having lived here a while, I'm super happy we picked the city with all of the cool history. But it was fun to visit. We spent a little time in the apartment pool (of which there were three...pupi) and the only other person at the pool happened to be another American. Pretty weird, right? When he was leaving, he was searching for his daughter's toys in the filter and to everyone's surprise, found a dead bat. Yep, a dead bat. We were all pretty grossed out, but we continued to swim in the pool for like another hour. That is how Colombia changes you...I swam in a pool knowing that there was a dead bat just rotting in the same water. Maybe that's why I've been feeling rabid lately...joke. It was also raining ash the whole time we were there, which we never really got an explanation for.

The next morning, we went to a church that was on our drive home because we wanted to go to a tiny Colombian branch instead of a big Barranquilla ward. It was in a super cute beach town called Puerto Colombia that was one of the cutest/prettiest places I've seen here. I think if I had been there before we had moved, I would have wanted to live there. But I'm pretty sure there wasn't a Subway there so...dealbreaker.

Also no real beach...another dealbreaker.  But beautiful, right?!

But this branch was everything I wanted it to be. It was in a building that they converted from a house maybe? into a "church". There were like 5 rooms total. We didn't stick around long enough to see how Sunday School, Relief Society, etc. worked, but I feel like that might have just been frustrating rather than funny/cool. There were like 20 members crammed into this main room, and with the 7 in our party, we made it really squishy. The first woman that got up to speak said she was really nervous, and I'm pretty sure it's because we increased their congregation by 30%. They even took a picture at the end of sacrament meeting because there were "so many people". But because we were all smushed in this little room which had both front and back doors open to the traffic noise outside, we were ultra hot. Definitely no air conditioning in this building!

For some reason, when converting this building, they decided to keep these two fish paintings.  Clearly the best choice.

Most of the Colombian women had those Chinese folding fans (which people actually use here, by the way) and one hermana next to me gave her fan to gringa mom because 4 year old gringa was beet red. The members were so nice. But speaking of 4 year old gringa, she decided she needed to go potty during sacrament meeting (luckily they had restrooms!) and so gringa mom kept looking over to see when the person currently inside the bathroom came out. The hermana next to me misunderstood that and just thought it was going to be too hard for gringa mom to get over there, I assume? Because hermana tried to motion to gringa mom that she would take 4 year old gringa to the bathroom for her. Super nice, but also super weird. There would definitely be some stranger danger alarms going on in the states, but she was just a super nice Colombian woman.

When we went outside to our car, we noticed the baptismal font attached to the side of the building. I went over to investigate because, awesome, and there was a mangy dog sleeping in the bottom of it. If I were to have a picture that summed up our time in Puerto Colombia, this would be it.

If you squint, you can see his little eyes back there.

While I was back in the states, James went on a couple of adventures of his own. But I'm going to make him write that blog, since he had some pretty hilarious experiences. So until he decides he wants to do that...hasta luego!

This is the second time this weird natural mushroom cloud has appeared over James' school.  Bad omen?

Aviary, Playa Blanca, and park trampolines

 

I mostly just wanted to share more about the aviary, so I don't have as much stuff as usual.  But some of you may thank me for that :)

Life as we know it:

-We've moved from Moth Month to Dragonfly Days (alliteration courtesy of James). But seriously, we rarely have moths now and we have 1 or 2 dragonflies a day, which I think is a lot. And Ant Año continues to plague us with no end in sight.

-We have been on a quest for good pizza because, for some reason, that seems to be the food we miss most. The pizza in Cartagena is actually alright...but not anywhere near the level of pizza in the states. But our salvation has come...Dominos opened up around the corner! Ok, really, it's like a mile away, but to us that's around the corner. We've already been twice. James thinks it's amazing, I think it still has a Colombianness about it, but I'm grateful nonetheless.

-We found a park with a freaking trampoline in it. Why doesn't every park in the states have a tramp?! Oh, liability? Right...but these are the reasons we love Colombia.

This is a terrible picture, but trust me, that's a tramp.

-We baptized the oldest gringa girl last Sunday. They were filling up the font when we came to church at 9:00, and by the time church was over at 12:00, the font had like 6 inches of water in it. They decided to start the program and see if it filled up anymore. By the time they baptized her, it had maybe a foot of water. So that was fun. But this little girl had the coolest baptism ever: 1) it was on her actual birthday, 2) it was in COLOMBIA, 3) she was baptized and confirmed in Spanish 4) both of her grandmas had recorded video talks which they played on the church TV 5) she got to be baptized in her white dress instead of one of those jumpsuits 6) she was baptized in a foot of water. Coolest baptism ever.

-We went to the aviary, which is one of the coolest things we've done in Colombia (pictures on Facebook). It was exactly how I wanted it to be...no people, cageless animals, and no supervision. Actually, it was even better, because it was surprisingly clean, well maintained and HUGE. And I could never have imagined that many different types of interesting birds if I tried. It was so cool! We went with the other gringos from our ward who have 3 girls under the age of 8. Things are always more hilarious with kids. We were the first ones in the park, and saw maybe 2 or 3 other families in the 2 1/2 hours that we were there. Right when we walked in there were 2 peacocks just chilling 5 feet away from us. Then we walked a few feet to an artificial tree full of colorful parrots. And then before we even started on the path, we saw two more peacocks, one of which had his tail spread out. These freaking birds were just right out there for us to get as close as we wanted! I loved it. I mean, we didn't really get that close, because birds are kind of gross...but still pretty exciting. Some of the birds were cute and others were super evil looking.

Also, there were giant iguanas everywhere! And, in 2 or 3 areas, they had a hammock. You know, just in case you come to the aviary to relax in the shadow of bird trees. Towards the end, we came to an ampitheatre where we assume they usually have bird shows? The stands were empty except for 3 middle-aged Colombian women and the trainers were just feeding birds on the stage. The trainers let the girls get on the stage with the birds and let everyone feed them. The birds climbed on the James' shoulder and then the girls' heads and no one was alarmed. Those trainers for sure would have let us walk around the park with those birds if we'd asked, I'm pretty sure. Things are just so chill in Colombia. 

After we went to the aviary, we decided to go find the road to the fabled Playa Blanca. This is the main tourist attraction of Cartagena, even though it's an hour plus from Cartagena. But this is the thing that all of the gringos and most of the Colombian tourists do while staying in Cartagena.  It's a white sand beach and it's usually a day trip by boat, but as we found out, you can drive there as well. James and I have contemplated going to Playa Blanca for many an occassion but it has never really worked out. I'm glad we went and scoped things out, because it is very different than I thought it would be. Playa Blanca is known for its beach vendors. We had heard that they were bad, but we think the vendors in the beaches in Cartagena are bad, so we thought it probably wouldn't be that different. Before we even turned off the main road, we had 8 guys surround the car, trying to sell us a parking spot. We didn't even stop the car to listen to them, and so 3 of them hopped on the car. Seriously. It's was so funny. The family we were with has an SUV, so the 3 Colombians just hopped on and held on, all the while shouting things at us. Now if I had been a 4, 6, or 8 year old in the backseat while this happened, I would have freaked. But I think because all of us were laughing and joking about it, the girls had a momentary scare and then were fine. Kudos to them. So we drive with 3 Colombians on our car for about 1/2 mile, and then he stopped the car and yelled at them to get off. We decided to park for a few minutes and just walk down and check it out, since we weren't in beach clothes and the poor kids had just walked around a hot aviary for 2 1/2 hours. My first impression: Man does the sun radiate off of that white sand! At this point, we still can't see the water, even though it's 50 feet from us, because there are HUNDREDS of huts looming in front of us with everything from food to hammocks for rent to beach gear, etc. It was crazy. We get down to where we can see the water and it's beautiful. But even the water was hot! And there were crazy amounts of people. And the beach vendors did seem to be extra crazy. So our overall impression was...hmmm, maybe it's worth the money to go pay for a resort with a private beach and healthy cooking conditions. I'm glad we went, because I think if we had stuck with our original plan, I would have been ultra hot, annoyed, and disappointed. Now we know!

-Our neighbor gets up every morning at 6:00 AM and blows his nose for like 15 minutes. It's hilarious. Our building is actually pretty quiet...we never hear our neighbors except for through the open windows. But the power behind this guys' incessant nose blowing echos through our house a few times a day. Anyone want to send us some Benadryll so we can change this poor guy's life?

The lady at the immigration office was named Yuranis.  Get it?

Differences between Colombia and the states:

-In Latin America, people from the United States are not considered "Americans"...we're either from the states or North American. People get offended if you tell them you're American. They say "I'm American too" because they live in South America. Luckily, James warned me of this before we got here, so I haven't made that faux pas. But I hear tourists say that all the time. I just think it's confusing though...my boss told one of the kids' dads that I was a North American and he asked if I was from Mexico. Yeah, because there are 3 countries in North America. But, I get it. Technically we are all Americans. But the rest of the world refers to people from the United States as Americans, so they're kind of the weird ones.

-When a building is abandoned, they block the doorway and windows with bricks and cement to prevent squatters. Not a bad idea, except I would think the property damage isn't worth it. But they also tear down the building 90% of the time, so I guess it's worth it.

-They have a "walk of Miss Colombias" (as I like to refer to it). Every beauty queen for like the last century. These Colombian teenage girls were discussing the merits of each. Why aren't American girls this excited about beauty queens anymore?

Until next time...

 

Colombian daughter, learning Spanish, and American tourists

Every night guys.  Every night.

I don't even know anymore...6 months in as of yesterday, I think? We're just here living the dream in Colombia!

Fun experiences:

-Last weekend, we took a bus to the movies. It was a Saturday, so the bus was crammed. Luckily, James and I found seats, but they were not next to each other. James sat across the aisle from a 11ish year old little girl wearing a New England Patriots hat. Compared to Mexico, Colombians don't wear very much American/English stuff, so I was surprised that she had 1) a beanie in 100 degree weather and 2) a hat for an American football team. As soon as James sat down, she immediately turned towards him and started chatting. She was really excited to talk to a gringo and talk about American stuff. Clearly by the reaction of her family, and James' insta-smile, she was quite the character. She asked if I was his sister (just what every wife wants to hear).  She was delighted to hear that I was actually his wife, and started introducing us to all of her family members on the bus. James told her that I didn't know very much Spanish and the girl should try to teach me. Unfortunately, I couldn't hear her very well from my seat, but what I did catch was "Do you want me to be your daughter?" (but in Spanish, obviously). She's the best person we've met in Colombia.

-James is becoming THE gringo at his work...for the 4th of July, they had him go to the main campus and have a staged "discussion" with another teacher about America in front of students. So that was fun. And then yesterday, they asked him to be in their promotional video as the token gringo, so he was filmed having another fake conversation. I would love to elaborate on these seemingly interesting happenings, but this was all I got from him.

Differences between Colombia and the states...and miscellaneous observations:

-Masterchef Mexico Junior is quickly becoming my favorite show. I try to watch at least one show in actual Spanish (not a show filmed in English, then dubbed in Spanish), and this is the one that I often catch. It's my favorite because 1) I love listening to kids speak Spanish and 2) I don't understand the competition. I'm sure it's just like all the other Masterchef shows...it has a balcony where 1-4 people get awarded and don't have to cook? That seems weird on a cooking show. And there's a nun...I have absolutely no idea why. It seems like she's mostly there as comedic relief and to comfort the kids when the judges make them cry...which is often. It's funny and sad all at the same time. Oh yeah, and I learn Spanish.

-A lot of people in our area will walk around barefoot on the dog poop-, human urine-, and trash-covered sidewalks. To be fair, we live on a beach, and lots of people walk around Laguna Beach, etc. barefoot too. But Colombians are CRAZY about getting sand off of their feet after being on the beach. They usually pour water out of a water bottle all over everyone's feet. Uh, hello! You'll pour water that you PAID FOR over your feet to get sand off, but you'll walk around barefoot on the dirty sidewalk any other time of the day? It just doesn't make sense to me.

Carnival amongst the trash

-Because it's 100 degrees ALL THE TIME, most of the women/children wear sandals. One thing we've seen a lot is that they will walk around with one of their toes sticking out of the straps. It just hurts me to look at. Maybe it's a trend here...

I know what you're thinking...this definitely deserves a picture.



-Gringos visit our ward a lot. Like I would say we get on average 1 couple a week. So it's fun to get to speak English and learn about people's trips. When we ask the gringos what their favorite part of the trip has been, they say they LOVE the fruit juices here. Our reaction is always "really?" (said in the same tone as "her?" when referring to Egg on Arrested Development), because we just haven't been impressed. So we've asked multiple gringos and plenty of Colombians which fruit juices we should try, and then we try them, and our opinion is still...meh. At our favorite restaurant, she makes a good maracuya (passion fruit) smoothie, but that's really the only thing we've liked a lot. The other problem is that juice is more expensive than pop. Everything is more expensive than pop. So why not just get pop?

-Have I mentioned that they don't have lemons here?  Limon in Spanish is either lime OR lemon, which is super weird. But it's not super confusing here, because lemons just don't really exist. Even though I know this, I always get excited when I see "limonada" because I think I'm going to get lemonade. I don't. I get limeade. Which can be tasty...but never as tasty as lemonade.

-I love my name. I didn't always, because as you can imagine, I get teased a lot. I hated that when I was a kid, but now I like that it's unique. It's less unique in Latin America however...because a lot of guys are named Ariel. D'oh! When I tell people my name here, I always say "Ariel...como La Serenita" ("like the Little Mermaid") because otherwise they are confused. They think 1) that they heard wrong because Ariel is a boy's name or 2) that I said "Adiel" or "Adrian", etc. because my Spanish accent is so bad. So it's just easy to bring up La Serenita so there's no confusion. However, now a few Colombians affectionately call me "La Serenita". It's just like being at home!

-While talking with our sister the other day, we made a realization...we go to the beach here less than we did in California! I'm as shocked as you are. I think we just take it for granted because it's ALWAYS there now. The first thing I look at when I wake up is the beach, and the last thing I look at before I go to bed is the beach. And there's plenty of viewing/walking near between that. It's just so nice to sit in bed and stare at the beauty from afar, instead of actually going down and sitting in the sweltering heat amongst piles of trash. So, sorry, not sorry.

-One thing I've learned in my quest for learning Spanish is that a lot of learning a new language is just finding easier way to say things. Really, I just need 5-10 verbs and I can say almost anything. Maybe not with the eloquence that I can have while speaking English, but it gets the job done. But I think the Colombians probably think I'm not very intelligent because I say everything the same way.

-One of our big disappointments about Colombia is that some people seem to really dislike gringos. Before we came here, all we heard is that the Colombian people are so nice. Unfortunately, that has not been our overall experience. I hate to say that, because we have met some of the nicest people ever here, and I'm sure the ratio of nice/not nice people is the same as anywhere else in the world. Nevertheless, I am disappointed. People in the service industry are often grumpy or, at best, just indifferent to us. It frustrates me, because, for instance, I go to the local store 1 to 2 times a week, and see the same rotating 8 employees there. At this point, they recognize me and know I am not just another tourist here for a week. And yet, they are still grumpy and/or indifferent to me, no matter how smiley or friendly I try to be. The reason for this (as I see it) is that Cartagenans (?) are just tired of gringos. And really, they have good reason to be. As we watch other gringos try to vacation in Colombia, we are horrified. Everything the other countries of the world say about American tourists is true. We don't dive into other cultures, we try to turn it into America. At best, we make a show of marveling at their culture, but that's still not super flattering. If you're telling someone how amazing it is that they can live with 3 other families in one house, it's not REALLY a compliment, just you trying to show your superiority over them. A couple of disclaimers: 1) we are guilty of many of these things too (aka eating mainly at Subway and McDonalds when we go out, 90% of the content of this blog, and hello, I still don't speak Spanish) and 2) this is not every American tourist, nor do I think that anyone is doing this with bad intentions. It's just so frustrating to me to see people order ice cream or Subway in English. Seriously?! You can't learn the name of the 6 types of food you put on your sandwich? You can't learn how to simply say "I would like..." and then substitute whatever it is from the menu that you would like to order?! It amazes me. We just expect people to know English, which maybe 1% of Colombians do, and I've got to tell ya, it's almost never people working in the food industry. I honestly hate being lumped in with people like this, even though I can be one of them occasionally. But I try really hard to conform to Colombia, instead of making Colombia conform to me. We would expect a Colombian to conform to America wouldn't we? So why can't we respect the culture and not be THOSE tourists? Sorry for the rant, but maybe it will make everyone conscious of their actions when they leave the country. And then maybe the people of Colombia won't be grumpy to James and me :)

-Colombians HATE their drug rep. People, all the drug stuff went down in the 80s and 90s. It's 2016. It's long gone, at least in this area. I've been watching a lot of videos of people speaking Colombian Spanish so I can get a better ear for it. And you know what they always say? "Colombia is not what people think it is. I love my country and hate that the world only thinks of Colombia in relation to drugs." They are outraged about it! We've had conversations with people about it at church, and James' school, etc. They feel like they need to bring up the fact that Colombia is not what everyone thinks it is. And when we've brought up Sofia Vergara (stupid American tourists!), they talk about how she makes Colombia look stupid. Now that Netflix has the new episodes of Modern Family (!), I've tried to pay attention to the things Gloria says. Not because I really think we should be taking a silly television character seriously, but I like to compare her fake Colombia to our real one. But on the last episode we watched, she said to Manny, "I exaggerate about a lot of things. Colombia is actually pretty normal." And I just felt the whole country of Colombia sing Hallelujah! I like that the Colombian pride we experience here finally had the writers and/or Sofia Vergara give pause and think about what they are doing for Colombia's reputation.

-One thing that is NOT different about Colombia and the states is your accessibility to the Bullingers. We can facetime/skype/facebook messenger video call anytime you would like. See, we did it for our nephew's 2nd birthday. So feel free to video call us any time you want to see our tan, sweaty faces.

Yep, this is me shamelessly showing off our nephew.

Sorry if this got a little heavy...in content and in lists...maybe you can tell I don't speak to very many people every day? :) Every English conversation that I have gets a little long-winded because I'm home alone for a large part of the day. But fear not! I am not lonely and I am very happy with my life. Just don't be surprised if you get to hear about my every thought. But I think I have finally written everything out. So chao for now!

 

Cocaine, futbol, and social awkwardness

This is one street over from James' school, and it took me 3 months of walking past it every day to realize that you get a glimpse of the cathedral.

We are quickly approaching our 6 month anniversary with Colombia, and today at church, two sets of visiting gringos thought that we MAY have been Colombians, before hearing us talk. So we're practically natives now.

Fun experiences:

-Cartagena has a wall surrounding the old part of the city. It's almost 400 years old, 4 km long, and was built to guard the city against pirates. That's right, pirates of the Caribbean. At this point, it's been featured in dozens of our pictures, because we will probably never live near a 400 year old wall ever again and it's pretty cool. One thing we haven't focused on a lot is the fact that the wall is also the place where thousands of modern-day Colombian babies are conceived. The wall has little cubbies and cut outs for the cannons (I'm sure there are names for these things, but I don't care enough to do the research). This is where you can, at most points of the day and definintely any point of the night, see young Colombian couples doing...naughty things. Most of the time you can fool yourself into thinking that they are just making out with gusto, but we witnessed something that was definitely more than making out the other night, just steps from James' school. Hey, I guess you have to take romance where you can get it, eh?

 

-Never in my life have I felt as socially awkward as I feel in Colombia. I knew that I would feel this way, I was prepared for it, but I thought you guys would enjoy hearing my tales of woe:

Colombian women who are anywhere in the aquaintance-to-best friend/relative range give each other besitos, which are little air kisses near the cheek. You've seen this in movies, you know what I'm talking about. Luckily, unlike in Europe, Colombians only kiss on one cheek. I was prepared for this when coming here, because James served in Chile and warned me. So my first besito went off without a hitch the second week we were here. I was proud of myself for not even hesitating or overthinking when a woman at church leaned in to kiss me. But now that I do it all the time...I have gotten into my own head. Here are my fears: 1) That I have actually kissed someone. It's such a quick thing, that I can't be sure that sometimes I am not actually planting one on the lady's cheek. I have no reason to be frightened of this, because I am pretty sure I've never done this, and I don't really think the woman would be anything but pleasantly surprised, but it doesn't stop me from having nightmares about it. It's such a natural, everyday thing for me to kiss my husband on the cheek, so I'm terrified that that instinct takes over and I lay one on a random Colombian woman who I'm just not all that close to. If I ever actually catch myself doing it, you'll be sure to hear about it here. 2) Some women will give you a besito promptly after meeting you, and some will wait a while until you know each other better. So I never know when I should and when I shouldn't. Now I just try to leave it in the Colombian's hands, and go for the besito only after they have already leaned in. But sometimes people seem like they want to, but are afraid of scaring the gringa. C'mon, just kiss me so I know how close you feel to me!

My other social fear is that I will use the incorrect form of "you" in Spanish. Anyone who has ever tried to learn Spanish knows that in Spanish, you can use "tu", which is informal, or "usted", which is more formal. So when I speak Spanish, I almost always deflect to "tu", because it sounds like you, and that's what I use with my husband and Primary kids. But when you're speaking to someone you barely know, or someone who is older than you, or someone who is in a leadership position, it's kind of uncool and impolite to use "tu". Well, really, it's just wrong. So I live in constant fear that I'm going to be really impolite and use "tu" when talking to the Colombian President or something. This goof has happened a few times, but always in situations where I feel like they just smiled and thought "silly gringa". We'll see how long I can get away with that.

-So we live in a nice, middle-class, beach neighborhood, but about two blocks back starts one of Cartagena's sketchy neighborhoods. So to get to one of the malls, we often walk through it (don't worry moms, I've never felt unsafe). Yesterday, on the corner of the end of the nice neighborhood and start of the sketchy, we saw some guys doing cocaine behind a light pole. Just right there in broad daylight. Right where all of the buses pass every 30 seconds. No big deal. And no, despite Colombia's reputation, that is not something we see all the time. That's the first definite exposure to drugs I've had here.

Differences between Colombia and the States:

-Colombians wear white all year round. I have finally found my ideal place! There's no bogus "Memorial Day-Labor Day" rule here. There are many stores solely devoted to the selling of white outfits. And often at formal events, the men wear white suits instead of black. So that's different.

-On a similar note, the women here DRESS UP for formal events. It's like every wedding is a prom. I don't know if I've only seen pupi (see last blog for definition) weddings, or if they really wear long, expensive-looking formal gowns to every occasion, but I really want to get invited to a wedding while we're here so I can have an excuse to buy a formal gown that I will never wear again.

-I still can't fully tack down the eating-out etiquette. One area in which we definitely prove our gringo-ness is in the asking for boxes to take our uneaten food home. Let me break it down...I would fully understand if a country just didn't have take out boxes because that was just not their culture. But Colombia does have them. A lot of people eat their lunches from styrofoam take out boxes because they sell them in the grocery store. So they do exist here. But when you're at a classy restaurant and you ask for a box to take your food home...they take your food in the back, slop it on a piece of aluminum foil, ball it up, and put it in a plastic grocery bag for you. I kid you not. For pizza, they actually have specially shaped aluminum pouches that are shaped like a piece of pizza. So if you have 4 leftover pieces, they give you 4 individually wrapped pizza bags, instead of just a pizza box. The reason I'm really so indignant about this is that I feel I have no choice but to take stuff home with me. If you don't finish your meal here, they ask what was wrong with it, and I'm afraid I've offended many a Colombian by not having a large enough stomach to finish my meal. So I don't get it! I don't have the stomach range to finish a small sandwich at one place, and then be expected to eat half of a chicken the next day at a different restaurant. C'mon Colombia! Make your meals the same size or get better take out boxes!

One of the nicer restaurants we've eaten at...all of the Colombians on the street were taking pictures of it while we were eating, so I thought I needed to document it too.  I can only imagine their pictures turned out just as crappy as this one did.

-We eat Subway a lot. Like once or twice a week. Before you judge me, Subway was my favorite place in the states as well, so I would probably be eating there just as often if I didn't live in Colombia. But I do like the taste of home every once in a while. We also like that it is cheap here. It's cheaper than in the states, and it's even cheap for Colombia. So it's a natural choice. The only problem is that Colombians are the worst Subway sandwich makers ever. These are the skimpiest sandwiches you could ever imagine. "No, when I say I want cebollas, I don't mean I want two tiny slices spaced at either end of the sandwich". Seriously though. And the lettuce is almost always half rotten, so I have forgone lettuce on many a sandwich. Imagine a Subway sandwich without lettuce! And the tomatoes are almost always green, so I usually don't get those either. So Colombian Subway is a poor substitute for American Subway.

Pathetic.

-For those of you who care, the Copa America is going on, which is some big soccer tournament? I'm sure every part of that last sentence was incorrect. James and I...well...we dislike soccer. And EVERY person in Colombia LOVES soccer. Seriously, I have never seen anything like this. At no point in my life has all of America been as passionate about one thing as Colombians are about soccer. Every game night is like the Super Bowl. There are no cars on the street, the grocery stores are empty and everyone is gathered at a friend's house, bar, or restaurant with their eyes glued on the screen. They even have soldiers in the streets with guns just in case people get carried away (which we have never witnessed, just to ease everyone's minds). It just blows me away.

Colombia has made it to the semifinals, which means it's one of the final 4 teams. Alright, I can see why that would be exciting. The game that put Colombia in this position was against Peru. James and I were just innocently watching Downton Abbey when we hear all 8000 of our neighbors scream. Not yell, scream. The uproar was amazing. Then taxis drivers listening to the game on their radio drove by, laying on their horn in support of the team. A few minutes later, 100 motorcycles carrying the Colombian flag drove past our building, honking and yelling away. James and I laughed and cursed ourselves for not getting any of this on film. I decided to look up the score and found that somehow, Colombia had won to Peru 0-0. Uh...what? How do you win a game 0-0? How can an entire nation, really, multiple continents, love this game where a team can somehow win a game 0-0? It just doesn't make sense to me. But clearly there's something I'm missing. Maybe James and I will like soccer by the time we leave here...but don't hold your breath.

-Cartagena has been trying to modernize itself, and has been replacing old signs at landmarks with new signs that include English! While I do not expect Colombia to cater to me, I really am grateful anytime something is in English. But this...can only mostly be considered English. Some of the translations are so bad that they are like nails on a chalkboard to me. So I have come up with a million dollar idea. Why don't we send things to bilingual "translators" to get a somewhat literal translation of something, THEN send it on to a native speaker to make it sound normal. It's a good idea, right?! James doesn't think that people would pay for both a translator and then what is essentially a proofreader, but I think it's all about the marketing. If someone has an idea to help me start my "translating the translator" empire, hit me up.

-Any one who is familiar with Latin culture knows that most people have two last names. We still haven't completely figured it out, but I know most people have their mother's last name and then their father's or husband's? Clearly, I'm the best source for this information. But I bring this up because people always think it's so weird that James and I are both Bullingers, and that we don't have a second last name. I kind of want to make one up just so we can fit in. From now on, you can refer to me as Ariel Bullinger Arroyo.

A lot of, maybe even most, Colombians also have two first names. Maria Clara, Maria Isabella, Rafael Isaias...you get it. The trick is knowing whether they go by the first name, second name, or both. And you just never know. A lot of the girls are Maria Something, but some go by the second name and some need both names, or nicknames of both (aka MariAnje for Maria Alejandra). But no one goes by Maria, because 1 in every 2 girls is named Maria. It's really interesting!

-People always bring their phone chargers with them everywhere they go so they can charge their phones at their job, in stores, when visiting a friend, or in a restaurant. I don't know if people are just too cheap to pay for their own electricity or if the batteries on the phones here go out quicker, but I have never had a phone that needed to be charged as much as these Colombians charge their phones.

-We went to a delicious fruit salad shop last night for dessert. Many of the fruit salads included ice cream, so naturally we had those. I had delicious strawberries and cream with ice cream, and James had the Bogotana, which was this:

 

No, those are not pickles on top. But that is CHEESE! Fruit, wafers, ice cream, and CHEESE! I would have rather died than eaten that. His verdict was that it tasted fine, but had a weird texture. Ugh, I have goosebumps just thinking about it.

Welp, that's it for now. Think of us when you watch the Colombia-Chile game! We'll probably be watching Friends.