Category: Self-reflection

2018 in Review: Traveling and Goal-Setting

Well, 2019 is already halfway over. I actually thought I would have time to make this post before the new year, but I was a little too busy going around the Dominican Republic with my friend Naty.

2018 started and ended on a high note, in spite of the many low notes and perceived losses in between. Both NYE’s were passed in different cities, however under very different circumstances. NYE 2018 was spent going out with a friend in Bogota “amaneciendo” – drinking and partying until the sun came up in different bars with random people we met while we were out, having an insane time. I had decided while home that I would not be sleeping to bring in 2018. And so I didn’t.

NYE 2019 found me in a hotel room in Barranquilla, having gotten in relatively early around 10 pm. None of my friends that live in Barranquilla were available, and I admitted to myself that I was tired and honestly didn’t care to party this year. So I didn’t. I spent the night eating and enjoying a comfortable king-sized bed and solitude, feeling absolutely zero guilt about it. Growth.

Last year, I jumped on my first opportunity to travel. I went to Santa Marta and later to Tayrona – and hated it. Turns out preparation for a trip to Tayrona is key. Plus I started the year off with food poisoning and vomiting in a hostel. So what did I learn? This year I wanted to do the same thing, take off and travel on a whim. But I decided to take my mom’s advice and just rest as much as I could in the interim.

During January I went to Minca after my first 4 days of work to clear my head. Weekend trips are not too much here – you don’t even have to do much planning to prepare. Everything is close – Santa Marta is only 4ish hours away, and everything near there is beautiful beach and mountains. Money isn’t an issue either since I’ve been saving and did very little at the end of 2018 due to health issues and saving for the holidays.

What’s still being reworked are my goals for this year, both as an individual and a traveler. To define those, I want to look back at what I said I’d do and what I actually accomplished last year.

Unfortunately when we make our goals, we rarely stop to consider all of the little pitfalls and detours that tend to happen throughout the year. I hadn’t factored in that I would start a serious relationship with someone anytime soon. I didn’t imagine how many things I would invest in to create a more comfortable living environment. I hadn’t thought about the need for self-care after such a busy early year of travel. I didn’t think I’d be working extra or exhausted or too busy to go to the gym.

And at this point I’ve accepted how my year ended and how this was necessary. At least my goals were very long-term, so that gives room for the process of getting to the final result.

I wanted to write more, and I did. However, I didn’t share even a fraction of what I have in drafting process. I’m going to try to work on that during my vacation. At least I have a lot to build on. This year I’ve been continuing what I started last year.

The key is continuity. Sometimes we have to accept that a year isn’t even long enough. My mentality about time has changed a bit, and that’s helpful. I’ve expanded it and started thinking farther ahead while still staying planted in the present.

I have all my photos and videos from my time in Mexico, Guatemala, and El Salvador. My goal now that I’ve had time to do some research on my camera and editing is to start working on my trip documenting project. I made lots of notes with tips about my experience in each country. But I didn’t want to Frankenstein it and write with too many gaps in between. That really doesn’t work for me.

The experience I had last year traveling with my friend and alone has further reminded me of how independent I am. I had a lot of moments where I wanted to share these experiences, but I’ve also realized after making my own decisions and handling so many tricky situations that I can both handle what is thrown at me and not let it totally ruin my traveling experience. I even enjoy solo traveling so much more than I thought I could.

For now, I won’t go further in-depth about the individual trips, but I’ll leave some highlights below of pictures I took.

I hope you are also accomplishing your goals – even if it feels like it’s taking forever. Moving forward one step at a time, day by day. Anxiety and fear can make goals seem so far away and threatening at times, like if we don’t do it now, will we ever do it? But this is your friendly reminder, if you’re feeling that way, that as long as you are taking the time and following the plan, you are doing it. Sooner or later, you will make it happen. Onward!

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Updates: Minca and what I’ve been up to (Reflections on Stagnation)

Anybody who follows this blog knows it’s been a long time since I’ve posted. One might question, “What the hell has she been up to? Por que tan perdida?”

In reality, I have been lost, lost in a whirlpool of endless work and exhaustion. When I’m not working, I’m too tired to dedicate my thoughts to anything in particular. You see, for the past month or so, I’ve been working double, and I’ve had my weekends taken from me as well. Now that I finally get a long weekend (and I don’t travel *sigh*), I decided to rectify the situation by posting a blog entry.

So what have I been up to, aside from work?

Back in January, I visited Minca. I had been wanting to wait and post about this when I had all of my pictures uploaded on my computer. It’s 3 months later, and I still haven’t done that, but I might as well stop procrastinating.

Minca was the first solo trip I had taken in while without much planning or premeditation. The last time I did that was when I went to Palomino for the first time during my first two months of living in Colombia. That was an experience to remember, one that I look back on when I think about traveling alone and ask myself who will I talk to? Literally every time I’ve had that concern and chosen to just ignore it I always end up meeting the best people.

That day, I literally woke up at 1 am on Saturday, got ready, went to the bus station, and took the first bus going to Santa Marta (with a good company, that is – Copetran). There are always buses leaving to local destinations in the coast (and I think in most of Colombia), which makes this spur of the moment travel so ideal. Can you imagine doing that in the states? Well, don’t if you have because unless you have your own car, there is no same-day travel planning that won’t cost you an arm and a leg.

Minca was an introspective experience. I road around the area with a mototaxista all day, from 9 till 6, exploring everything on the map of interest they had shown me when I arrived. I didn’t pay for a tour or anything, though I’ve heard there are some great ones. I realize if I had done that I may have interacted with more foreigners, but I was going for a laid back, more introspective getaway, and that’s exactly what I got.

The highlights were the waterfalls and the amazing views. I started the day by going to swim in Pozo Azul. When going up those steep mountain paths and roads, I tried to imagine doing it all on foot instead of paying to 100 mil to get taxied around. Nooo thank you. I was looking to relax, after all, not get home more exhausted than when I left.

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If you are looking to push yourself and have a hiking retreat, of course I would definitely say go for it! And if you’re staying for an entire extended weekend, it just makes sense to save money and explore on foot. But I went with a single day and night planned out in my mind – and initially, I wasn’t even sure if I would stay the night.

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I took a tour of a coffee farm, La Victoria, which turned out to be extremely fascinating and less fluff than you would expect. The tourguide happened to be a physicist who knew all about the ends and outs of the coffee gathering, preparation, production, and distribution process. I learned everything from why the coffee sold inside Colombia is such crap to how the irrigation and draining system works to shuck (I think that’s the word) the coffee beans. Plus it came with two cups of coffee, one at the beginning and one at the end. I had lunch there (an over-priced vegan friendly doubledecker sandwich because I was too hungry to be asked to wait and look for something cheap and local).

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The coolest part was having a taxista willing to wait on me for 2 hours and watch my things when I went swimming. He also tolerated all of my questions about the place during the ride, which meant I got to learn a lot along the way.

The “tour” was followed by more winding up and down the mountain and stopping at Los Pinos (the pines) to peep the amazing (if smoggy) view of Santa Marta, the ocean, and the peaks of the Sierra Nevada. Unfortunately, said smog was veiling the view, so no dice. Still, I enjoyed taking some pictures with my camera.

From there, I got to see the famous Casa Elemento. I didn’t go all the way to their treehouse hammocks, but I did some lounging about on the big ones in the main common area. You buy a wristband to get in for like 15 mil and you can spend as much time as you want. The hostel covers an expanse of property with lots to do and see. The wristband also includes a drink. Obviously if you stay there, you get access to the hammocks, pool, and cabins without paying extra. It’s worth it, but I chose a hostel close to the town of Minca to leave early the next day, and Casa Elemento is still about 40 minutes away from the town.

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I couldn’t lounge for too long because the sun was starting to go down at this point, and I had one last top before going to the hostel. The Marinka waterfalls were amazing – plus you get a good, exhausting hike as well. Be sure to check them out. On the path up, I had an old man compliment me on my tattoo (which I never expect from the elderly for obvious reasons), and the best part was he wasn’t even hitting on me! He even told me to look out for those costeños and their “labia” (a sort of sweet-talking bullshitting). We both had a good laugh.

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Most of the tourists I met in Minca were German and French. The hostel I stayed at was run by some Argentinians that were really nice, the usual open-minded traveler types. That night, I went to an open mic and shared some wine and beer with one of the girls and a volunteer at the hostel. He happened to be a Colombian transplanted and living in Canada. We shared our philosophies on how we hated living to work. He explained how he uses his hated 8-5 job to pay the bills and save to travel for months at a time every year.

Lately, I’ve been thinking more and more about purpose – the purpose of me living in Colombia, working as much as I do, the purpose of this blog and the way I organize my time. I’m not working to live; lately I’ve been living to work. And that has to stop. That’s part of why I chose this lifestyle. That’s why I write and do other things. My purpose is trying to produce something meaningful while I’m alive. I think we should all aspire to do as much. Not to live to work, but to try to move beyond the realm of simply existing, tolerating, rinsing, washing, repeating.

Therefore, I’m in transition, trying to slowly find my way again. A year ago, my goals were very clear. I go back to that dauntingly clear and ambitious list and wince. I am still working towards those goals, but I haven’t been taking as many steps to see them through.

That’s why, as much as this post is about Minca, it’s also a recap of why the hell I’ve been lost all these months and where I want to go with this blog and my life. I’ve been having a lot of conversations about maintaining a sense of clarity towards the things that matter in life. About dedicating time to things that matter. About why this matters. It’s time to replant those goals and water them and give them another chance to flourish and blossom. It’s never too late.

I took a book from the hostel I stayed at in Minca which just seemed right: Sobreviver. It’s in Portuguese. I’ve been reading it very casually, but my goal is to finish and post about it and my insights here. The book is basically about the following reflection: life isn’t just surviving, but in order to live well, you must be resilient. In order to be resilient, you must be a survivor. And that means pushing past negativity and working through every obstacle thrown at us.

 

Looking Back: (Mis)adventures in Parque Tayrona and Santa Marta

Finally I had my Colombian adventure. I set off on Tuesday around 1 pm thinking I wouldn’t get a bus until 2:30, but to my pleasant surprise, when I arrived at the bus terminal I was immediately led to the bus leaving at that exact moment. The trip was a bit uncomfortable. Initially, I thought I had the best luck – the back seat to myself. Then this entire family climbed onto the bus, and to my dismay, there were no free spaces other than the ones next to me. So the mother and father sat next to me with their three children piled on top of them. Not the most pleasant of scenarios, but it only lasted about 3 hours. Then I was told to get on a smaller bus that would take me straight to Santa Marta. Again, another cramped voyage. Imagine me, a relatively tall white woman in the last row of a roughly 25-seat mini-bus packed with Colombians of a darker complexion. I was like a sore thumb stuffed in a box of sardines.

But before I knew it, that leg of the journey was over and I was in my hostel, Solaz, in Santa Marta. I had a really neat conversation with the taxi driver who picked me up in front of the terminal about ignorance that leads to hero worship of even the most deplorable figures – in this case, Trump and Maduro. I never considered that there were Venezuelans that admired and even worshiped him with a certain fervor. My taxista, a Venezuelan, understood it just as much as I understand the fervor people in my own family have towards Trump. He left me with his number, saying if I ever needed anything in the city to let him know. A man who had been a successful detective with several houses, for the first time, reduced in a way to a solitary life working in the public sector of Colombia. Now that would make a novel – but that was his life. The whole thing struck me as quaint.

I can’t lie, I had some unrealistic expectations for this trip, particularly for seeing my friend. After all, his posturing of things was pretty ideal. We were to go out wandering around Santa Marta talking and then later drink and dance the night away. I even imagined us traveling a bit afterwards together as well.

Well, suffice it to say, it didn’t happen that way. We all ended up being to tired to properly drink and dance, so I retired early. And honestly, that’s okay. Everything was fun but not life-altering. I kept finding myself getting quiet and pensive because it didn’t feel like I felt it should. And I realize that’s the danger. Thinking too much and figuring yourself into a story that isn’t yours. All the same, I generally enjoyed the experience I had, all because a relatively new friend had the nerve to tell me “ven” – come through.

The great, and frankly unexpected, part of this adventure was the connections I gained along the way. That night I met Clari and Dani, two incredible Argentinian girls. They were both planning on going to the same destination that I had in mind from the beginning: Parque Tayrona. My friend introduced us, and we hit it off fairly well. They are both biology majors from Buenos Aires with a myriad of other skills between them: both cook, sing, dance (tango!), ride horses, among a million other little things aside from being extremely intelligent. It’s not that often that you meet truly formidable people in life, but I felt like they could definitely be described as such.

I got to know them a good deal in Santa Marta, eating out and hanging out in the hostel and going to swim and sunbathe in Rodadero (oh, did I mention they’re both great swimmers too?). But I really saw what made them tick on our trip to Tayrona.

We went into the trip with the entrance tickets to the park pre-bought – a must to avoid long lines in peak tourist season – and (supposedly) lodging already a given. That part ended up being wrong, though, as when we arrived to the camp site with extremely over-priced food, there was actually no tents available for us to rent. It got worse considering the guy that worked there wouldn’t even help us. So not long after, it was put our bags back on our backs and hoof it to the next campsite.

When we got there, we were so relieved to have made it through this jungle of hills and sandy hikes: rivers, ant-trails, and muddy clearings we had to cross by balancing ourselves on logs – so relieved that we didn’t even consider if we were getting a good deal. $35.000 a person for 2 big tents and one little one, in a seemingly less crowded campsite? We’ll take it!

Unfortunately, when we returned from hiking along the beach that afternoon we discovered that not only was the place very crowded (so crowded in fact that the kitchen ran out of meat and there were few chairs to spare for our group of 5 to sit at), but that it was also extremely unsanitary and the food sucked, was overpriced, and lacked variety! There were 2 bathrooms on the entire campsite. One had a shower. One. Fast forward later that night when I’m trying to wash myself off while another person is dying in the stall next to me of food-poison-induced diarrhea…not pleasant. Not to mention the tents were practically on top of each other, plus hammocks outside of them and all around. And this to the fact that most people were loud, intoxicated, and sick, and you get a really big headache. I think we all learned a valuable lesson: always book ahead. And book Cabo.

Backing up a bit, the hike along the beaches were to die for – almost literally – exhausting but definitely worth it. Despite some inconvenient physical circumstances, I managed to get in the ocean, hike up all of those fun jungle hills, and make some incredible memories. I just felt very…unsanitary while doing so. And crampy.

That day, we explored Las Piscinas, la Laguna de los Caimanes, and half-hiked to Cabo before realizing it would be dark on the hike back because we left way too late (we’re talking about starting an hour-long hike around 4/5 pm – not a great idea). So after discovering how fucked up our campsite was, we decided to go to a different, more family-oriented campsite to eat and enjoy some music. Colombia is not Colombia without music (especially blasting Vallenato).

We convinced the lady cooking to make us pasta which was pretty decent (and huge so almost worth the $21.000 we spent on it). We also broke out the aguardiente and beers. I discovered that night that in reality, Argentines don’t drink as heavily as Colombians. Andres and Julian, both from Bogota, were all for passing out the shots. We started during our walk to the other site (in the dark under an absolutely incredible starry sky unsullied by light pollution) and continued once we were mostly finished eating. Food was accompanied by beer, of course.

Then, we started playing some hilarious drinking games. One involved using a specific letter of the alphabet to describe your genitals. I learned a lot of new vulgarities and adjectives in this one, and I actually didn’t do so bad! Another was Pregunta, Pregunta which was literally Question Master – each person can only ask a question and respond with a question. This led to more shots then you would think, but possibly not as much as the categories game (another concept I was familiar with from King’s Cup – ohhh college). Somebody picks a category and each person has to say something within the category. The Argentine girls also taught us a game involving crossing arms and tapping the table in an unbroken chain. Way harder than you would think, especially while walking the knife’s edge of tipsy and fucked up.

We were accompanied by a French girl, Alice, who we met in the shitty campsite earlier that day. Exploring with her was fun, although she also wasn’t much of a heavy drinker. I think Colombian culture has exacerbated my own party-loving spirit. When she and Clari were ready to retire, the fun had only just begun for me. I was tipsy and dancing with Andres, and Dani and Julian had coupled up as well. I’ve noticed that this coupling off to dance thing probably has a lot to do with the hookup culture I’ve seen here. Nothing happened out of the ordinary that night, but it does tend to happen under those circumstances.

When you travel, you learn so much about other people, and from them, you also learn about yourself. I suffered a couple really major crises during the trip. I went back to the party after promising to go back with Andres to walk Julian and Dani back from the site and “take care of them,” which doesn’t work very well when you are well liquored up yourself. I unfortunately forgot that I was carrying my cellphone in my purse – while crossing the laguna de los caimanes – Alligator Lagoon. On the way out of the campsite on the hill, I made an Olympic-metal hop across a log that connected one side to another. Beaming with accomplishment, I turned to share the light with my friend coming behind me. The log was not totally level of course and my foot slipped and – bam! I slipped straight down into the lagoon. Of course, my own welfare wasn’t the real worry for me in my intoxicated state – the damage the water did to my brand new Moto g5 as I scrambled to get out and continued to fall, eventually pulling Andres with me was the real tragedy of the moment. New cellphone – dead. Pride – also dead. I cried so much that night, it was ridiculous. Andres did his best to comfort me, but I was pretty distraught, so we sat by the side of the ocean for at least an hour leaning against a log of sorts, him trying to distract me from my tech tragedy, me trying to rationalize the situation and failing and just being angry at myself.

After the wild, regrettable night, I woke up in the big tent with a pretty shitty hangover, exhausted from barely sleeping, sore all over, and just generally blah. In spite of that, we decided to carry on and hike down to Cabo. We had a breakfast at the same place we had partied the night before and hurried on our way. Hiking in sand, by the way: don’t do it. My shoes were soaked and dirty, which meant soggy feet after spending what seemed like hours in beautiful aqua blue oceans and shiny, gold-flecked rivers. Cabo was a dream, and the hike there and back really was not so bad. We passed the time by swapping stories and singing Disney songs both in Spanish and English. We unanimously decided that next time, for sure, we would have to stay there. And book in advance. Just go Cabo.

What I was not prepared for was the hike out of the park. 2 hours or more, not including the 1 hour hike back to the main campsite from Cabo. My feet were soggy and blistered. Every step slowly became more painful, and then, like fools, we decided to finish the last leg of our hike (which could have been cut shorter on bus) on foot instead. The sensation of stepping on knives stabbed through me with every painful step. At first, the trip didn’t seem so far. Just a little bit further…but after each turn that did not seem to bring us any closer to our destination, I began to bitterly lose hope.

Clari was patient with me, as was Andres, who took my bag to help lighten my burden. Clari distracted me with engaging conversations about past lives (”Muchas Vidas, Muchos Maestros” was a book she recommended me that I must remember to read). We talked about the permanence of energy in the universe and strange dreams and uncanny knowledge of things one has not directly experienced. Andres thought we sounded high, but it was just the mixture of our shared mysticism and hiking delirium. We got on to plan other potential trips, Spain being a shared interest. She assured me that I could go visit in Argentina anytime.

Finally, that little adventure was over. The other tragedy came after deciding recklessly to go out and drink cocktails and tequila shots while suffering from severe exhaustion – and eat meaty, heavy street food. The stomach virus I had the next day was so severe I was unable to even smell food without becoming nauseous and vomited pretty much everything in me that diarrhea didn’t wipe out. Andres and Dani had decided to move on to La Guajira, leaving me in the hostel with Clari and some kind German girls that had taken up residence. Clari helped me get the strength to go to the clinic to get some shots and a ton of drugs to deal with the poisoning. I lost that Saturday in Santa Marta sleeping, and the next day, it was time to go home.

So, big takeaways from the trip:

  1. Don’t take your cell with you on midnight treks over alligator lagoons while intoxicated. Just…don’t do it. Hindsight is a bitch.
  2. Don’t let shit that is over and done with affect and ruin your present.
  3. Don’t be afraid to open up to strangers. They might end up becoming some of your best company.
  4. Don’t overthink the reaction of others to that essence which is you – any negative reaction is their problem.
  5. Street food involving meat should be avoided at all costs. Eating in places where conditions are unsanitary, regardless of how tempting the cheapness of that place is must be avoided.
  6. And finally: don’t wait – buy your entradas (tickets) to the park and book your campsite or hostel in advance. Make sure you have all the facts. Don’t be like me.

In the end, I don’t regret any of it, even the misadventures and all of the callouses my feet acquired. The trip represents life in a big way. It was a microcosm of the wins, losses, and connections one experiences when they dare to live without limits and open themselves up to people. It’s not always going to be pleasant and epic, but it will teach you something if you let it. Those lessons will stay with me, buried away in my consciousness. This is the year of autonomy and letting go of fear. This trip was part of the autonomy. And it was only the beginning. Bring on the next adventure: Central America!

Third-of-a-year Self-Assessment

I hate that I haven’t been able to write lately. As it happens, I have more to write about than ever. Last week, I went to Bogota and Medellin for Spring Break (or Holy Week/Semana Santa according to the very Colombian Catholic tradition). A couple of weekends before that I went to Bucaramanga. I have every intention of writing about my experiences in all three cities, as they really are some of the greatest cities in the interior of Colombia, but I’ve been utterly drained.

Let me explain what the hell is up with me. I’m now giving tutoring twice a week – it’s about to be four times since I’m adding a new student. Plus I’ve had to give refuerzos or unpaid tutoring sessions at the school to help my kids catch up. It’s the end of the third school period, so that means planning (oh, by the way, I get to go in to work tomorrow bright and early – on a Saturday. Joy), uploading grades, writing reports, observations, making sure I don’t break down or forget anything. You know, lots of stuff. Aside from the tutoring, I’m teaching English to a couple twice a week (which I love because they are so in to it that it’s almost not like teaching at all), and I might add another class to that.

On top of this, I just started transcribing interviews for my aunt. This is work I really love as it helps contribute to her doctorate thesis and some important research related to indigenous rights in Nicaragua. With all of this, I’m also working toward saving for one of my goals – a backpacking trip through Central America. I opened a travel fund pretty recently to help save for my tour of South America which I’m going to postpone for next year, since going through all of the countries in Central America twice is not going to leave much time (and possibly money) to do anything else this summer. However, as great as it is to have extra money, I feel like my energy has been invested pretty heavily in all of the teaching and work. Writing and language study have virtually went on the backburner, and because I’m too tired to write to coherently, I figured a brief reflection and recollection would be better than trying to chip away at the 5-some drafts I have sitting around.

That being said, I will be posting about my travels in Bucaramanga, Bogota, and Medellin. Those experiences really reminded me of why I love living in Colombia – the three places are so diverse and different from Valledupar, where I currently live, and yet they are all part of the same country. For those that might generalize Colombia as a monolithic drug lord-dwelling jungle paradise, I am happy to show just how mistaken you are – but no harm no foul. We all fall victim to the influencing power of the media, which paints a picture of our world using colors we are familiar with to mask the reality beyond. With these adventures, I have felt full, but I need to hop back on the creativity and intellectual pursuits of a deeper, personal significance.

I’m also still reading. I finished My Ishmael and have since started on a Spanish book, Opio en las Nubes, by Rafael Chaparro Madiedo. An acquaintance who is a big fan of literature and poetry loaned it to me, and so far, I’m impressed with its surrealist, stream-of-consciousness elements, but I haven’t gotten terribly far. I’d like to have a review of My Ishmael up soon as well while its still fresh. It impacted me pretty strongly, if not as much as the original Ishmael did. Still, great book.

I’m beginning to realize how easy it is for routines and plans to come undone. I started going to the gym again this week. I had about a week and a half off because I was traveling and busy doing other things. Now, with these new classes and responsibilities, I’m worried I won’t be able to find the time or energy. Planning classes takes time, not to mention my main job… But I’m going to do my best.

It’s hard sometimes to look at all you said you would accomplish and feel like you’re coming up short. A thought crossed my mind that calmed me today as I considered all of this. We’re a third of the way through this year. That means three more thirds to go – a perfect time to look at what I’ve done so far and where I’m going.

So far, I’ve traveled plenty, spent time with friends – even interviewed for a new job. That was another reason I wasn’t able to do much in the past couple of weeks. I had to prepare a demo lesson to perform with adults acting like students (definitely as weird and uncomfortable as it sounds). It went relatively well, but to my relief, there is nothing concrete there. The school would be a great opportunity, don’t get me wrong, but I think I need to not jump on the first opportunity that comes my way. I may not even be working as a teacher next year – who knows? I feel tired of it at the moment, and I’m not sure if its the stressful work environment (which causes pressure apart from the actual duties involved with being a teacher) or just the universe’s way of pushing me towards my other goals and passions. It’s almost like a whisper saying enough is enough. Time to move on.

All in all, nothing is decided yet. I’m still making progress with language acquisition, even if my daily studies and writing have dwindled. I’m trying to look at things as a continuous work in progress, bit by bit. I know success and self-actualization don’t happen over night. I’m trying not to stress myself out more or get depressed by these changes – because, for the most part, they really are positive and will definitely pay off. But it does raise the question: what do I want to dedicate myself to?

What do I need to dedicate myself to? Writing is a necessity for me, like curing a wound. If I don’t do it, the gap gets bigger and I feel myself slipping away. No matter how busy I am, I will always write.

However, I started this blog to write with a purpose. To talk about my experiences, my insights. To share my adventures in order to educate people about the wonderfully jodido and complex country that is Colombia. I met several people in my stay in Yolo Hostel Medellin that were jealous of me getting to live in Colombia and have this experience – that craved more. At the same time, there is so much ignorance surrounding Colombia – its history, political situation, culture(s), and present. I hope to shed a bit more light on that through this blog. I hope it reaches not only my friends, but other people that might be curious about living and working in, or at least traveling to Colombia, as it is so worth it. But you need to do it not only with an open mind, but an open heart and a clear headed view of the pre-conceived notions you are doubtlessly carrying with you. There is so much more than meets the eye.

So here’s to adding that goal to the list and hopefully scratching it off! I’m now trying to maintain an agenda, some good advice given by the counselor I’m seeing. I recommend it to anyone else feeling overwhelmed by busy schedules and conflicting priorities.

Any advice for keeping it all straight? I could sure use some more tips, as much as I’d like to offer some of my own. Share your experiences below!

Birthday Reflections: How living in Colombia has changed me (from 25 to 26)

It’s been an amazing birthday week, the kind of week that has me reflecting on all the changes in my life that have brought me to where I am today. One of the greatest changes by far has been all of the transformations and confrontations with self I have made since living in Colombia.

 

Before, I was never one to socialize among coworkers. I kept my head down and my eyes on my work. I felt afraid to show who I really was most days because I wasn’t sure if anyone I worked with would be able to relate to me. As a result, I stole from myself the opportunities to form bonds with my coworkers and create lasting friendships. I also struggled to define limits in my romantic life. I spent more time spinning my wheels than actually acting with the end result in mind, and that was mainly due to self-doubt and insecurity.

Last year, I was still green to living in another country. I didn’t know many people – I barely knew my coworkers. I mostly spent time with a girl that lived in the same house as me and took care of the kids and the chores (we became friends and have been ever since!). I was far from home and at moments very lonely. But with a few spontaneous invites – and then spontaneously accepting them – from my coworkers, I slowly began to go out and really experience the culture of Valledupar and form relationships which became key to my self-esteem and growth.

I’ve learned that ex-pat camaraderie is strong, even if you don’t come from the same country. My first step outside of my comfort zone in Colombia came when I made and shared king cake with a few coworkers. One of them, Noel, took interest in the place I’m from, Louisiana, mainly for the food and music, and I couldn’t help but open up, little by little. So we began to hang out more, and from there we decided to make a king cake together and have a get-together to share it. Since then, he has become more of a brother than a friend, a trusted confidant that has seen me through hard times, listened to me and my whining, and shared advice with me, and I with him.

Slowly, I allowed myself to get to know my coworkers more and stopped closing myself into my classroom and focusing only on the serious aspects of work. It didn’t hurt that I also finished my TEFL certification around the same time and suddenly had the time to go out and socialize. By keeping my eyes peeled for opportunities to go out and explore my new home, I began to get to know a Colombian teacher at that time working in Prekinder in the school, Osiris, and a young woman from Nigeria working in Nursery named Dami. Osiris spontaneously invited us to go hiking up the local lookout point, Cerro Ecce Homo, one weekend in February and from there the three of us became good friends.

 

Female friendship is powerful.

Shortly after that, the adventures began. Dami, Noel (my British brother), and I along with a Colombian friend spent a weekend in Nabusimake, an isolated indigenous village nestled in the Sierra Nevada. We slept in tiny bunk beds in a cozy cottage and built a fire outside to make our dinner under the night sky, sharing music and laughter throughout. It’s funny how strangers can become so close in so little time. But near-death experiences will do that. During that particular trip, when we decided to go back to Valledupar, it had started drizzling. Of course we thought, who cares? We were ready to get back and rest and prepare for another exhausting week of work. However, once we were zig-zagging and swerving up and down steep, narrow mountain passes covered in mud and clay, we swiftly realized the err of our thinking. We were screaming in the land rover and hiking up along side it, trying not to get hit, all the while and not to slip down the mountain in turns. It really brought a whole new layer of meaning to our friendship, as surviving a near-death situation usually does.

In this way, many of my coworkers also became great travel companions since we all have pretty much the same aspirations to get out of Valledupar and explore. Last year I managed to either plan or be involved in 4 different trips, including a weekend in Palomino and a whole week discovering coastal cities like Santa Marta, Barranquilla, and Cartagena, and then later go further South to Ocaña – but I’ll have to dedicate another post to those trips.

Then there were all of our little get-togethers. We would go to the large house that Noel and his brother lived in, a hostel of sorts because it housed many temporary or short-term tenants, and make food and blast music. At the end, we would always get fussed at by the house owners for turning the house into a discoteca (which, by the way, we now practically live in one since getting our own house), but we rolled our eyes and turned down the music, choosing to ignore the negativity and keep enjoying each other’s company. It’s not like we don’t suffer through the hours on end of blaring Vallenato music constantly.

Our team has always been close knit. There was birthday party after surprise party throughout the last school year that added to my sense of integration with my coworkers. Even my birthday was celebrated as a surprise which was and wasn’t a total surprise since there was a group dedicated to doing just that last year. Still, that party was one of the most beautiful moments yet and continues to stick with me to this day. After all, I could have never imagined that a group of virtual strangers would take me in, buy me a cake and booze, and celebrate my special day as if we had known each other for more than a couple of months.

People here have sincerely taken me by the heart and the hand and welcomed me into their lives. I began to dance and be myself among these diverse people. We traveled together, from the beaches of Palomino to the rainy streets of Bogota, to the Walled City of Cartagena. We rang in the New Year together, drank together, and complained together about the injustices we have faced at the school and the shitty discrepancies with our own expectations.

More than anything, I became entirely me this year, while also letting another culture transform me. I felt myself truly adopt the costeño dialect when conversing with my close Colombian friends while also being able to stand up and give presentations in Spanish and English in workshops and trainings. I’ve spoken my mind and stood up for myself and my friends more than once in the face of the aforementioned injustices at the school that range from unfair working conditions and sanctions based on false information and bias. I’ve realized I’m not afraid to be the person that says no, that doesn’t work and it doesn’t sit well with me. I’ve discovered my voice, both personally and professionally.

Now that I’m 26, I’m staring over an intimidating precipice. On one side stand my goals, my mountain, the things I’ve been working toward tirelessly since I was in college, and perhaps even before that. I’ve always been tenacious, and now I feel I’m halfway there. First, I wanted to get out of the country. Before I turned 25, I accomplished that goal and found a job that worked for me. I wanted some semblance of stability, which I have achieved, while still being able to save and travel all at once. Then I wanted to continue my education and explore other avenues of employment. That is the part I’m still working on – mainly with writing and translating, but I also have a desire to break out into work related to human rights, social justice, and international relations, because that is where my passions truly lie. But in the meantime, I have to give myself some credit – I’ve become a full-time, certified teacher, and damn competent one, one that knows her students and does everything she can to help them reach their full potential and learn and to be passionate about learning.

I’ve discovered my capabilities and that I don’t need anybody else in order to feel fulfilled in my life or have significant and extraordinary relationships. I’ve also learned and thoroughly internalized that it does no good to compare my life to others. We all get where we need to go at different times. The key is living our moment one second at a time.

I am now quite content with my close friendships, with the variety of people that share their time with me and support me in a variety of ways. The next step is simply deciding: which direction do I need to go in in order to get closer to my mountain? How can I stop measuring every step and just let go as I fall into my future? Because in the end, all we are doing is falling. Nobody knows where we will end up, as much as we try to plan and plot our stops along the way of this vast journey we call life.

I will say that the spontaneous choices I’ve made have ended up being the most rewarding. When I set my mind to something, from the age of 5 to 25 and beyond, I have always found a way to see it through. And even if the results are not what I expected, I find a way to learn so much that the experience is totally worth it and part of what makes me me.

In Colombia, I’ve encountered some of the most loving and genuine people I have ever known. I’ve also encountered selfish people, rude people, people that are only interested in themselves and think nothing of how that self-interest can affect others. That, however, is the human experience – no matter how much culture shock was locked into that experience, it is not culturally dependent – and learning how to distinguish one group from another is also part of growing up. I guess what I’m trying to say is that this year in Colombia has been like a rite of passage for me in which I came through the other side as a fully-fledged woman that has committed herself to her vision and doesn’t back down in the face of adversity.

That’s the direction I want to continue going: upwards and outwards, to help and to let myself be helped in order to grow and mutually impact others in a positive way. The interconnectedness of people is one of the great lessons I’ve learned here, just how much we can make or break an experience by being involved with each other. For those that have blessed my days with their light, I will be forever grateful. And for those that steal my energy, I am thankful to know how to distinguish them from the genuine people who are worth the effort and simply remove them from my life in order to focus my energy on the people that fan my flames.

Life happens fast. I imagine we all experience different rites of passage throughout life and at different stages. When was yours? When did you look in the mirror and realize that you were no longer pretending to be a self-sufficient, self-aware adult, but that you actually were one, and not just a scared, lost kid trapped in an adult’s body? I’m interested to know what that turning point is for people. But I would say in spite of everything I lived in my two post-university years in California, Colombia has defined that for me. And to the universe, I will be forever grateful for pushing me to leap from that precipice and into a new challenge. May I have the courage to leap some more in all the deciding moments that come my way.

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Goals for 2018: Consistency, Discipline, and Amor Propio

Lately I have a lot of good energy moving around from my core to the tips of my fingers and toes. I feel like now is the moment to take advantage of that energy. To write, to share, and to manifest what I want from my life.

What sort of energy do you find yourself with today? Were you tired, tense, stressed? Indifferent, restless? Unsure, neutral? Relieved and relaxed? Calm and content?

It’s good to read your own energy and know how to spend it in the most efficient way. After all, we are made of the energy we surround ourselves with as well as the energy we generate and put out into the universe. One of my personal goals has been to carefully monitor and manage my own energy as well as the sort of energy I allow close to me. I’m an emotion sponge – always have been – and by being mindful of that, I can use that trait to benefit myself and forward my goals.

It’s all a matter of balance. Which is where I’m going with this post. How do we manage our energy? By putting in the right amount of time and energy into the right sorts of pursuits.

And how can we do that more effectively? I’ve been reflecting on that a lot since the beginning of this year. My personal answer has been a love of self and respect for one’s own needs, goals, and energies.

I want to share my goals, and the methods I will use to pursue them, not just to have a typical resolutions post but to show how the short-term goals we call resolutions can be turned into the beginning steps towards long-term projections toward the future.

Of course, there are no guarantees I won’t fall off the wagon and lose sight of all of this. There are never guarantees that we won’t suffer depressions or tragedies that muddy up our energy and take time to treat and heal. But that’s okay. My goal is not to be rigid when I commit myself to this disciplined mentality. Rather it’s to be adaptable and focus on all of the different avenues that help me to continue moving forward while still coping with the ups and downs and fluctuations of life.

Every day is made up of 24 hours. Time is limited and finite. I know, everyone knows that, right? But it’s also fluid and, yes, in some ways, a social construct. One of my primary goals is to construct my plans around time in this sort of way. Do I know if I will be able to commit to a master’s program by next year, for example? No, and I don’t know if it will be completely necessary to fulfill my long-term goals; however I’m in the process of figuring out the next step in my education, so I think putting that in there makes sense because it’s a part of my projection for the future.

Speaking in broad, fluid strokes, my goals are the following:

  1. Writing: Blog, Poetry Collection, Novel, Essays

Writing is not only something I want to focus on for professional reasons: it’s a necessity to me. I’ve realized throughout my life that, no matter how tired or stressed or frustrated I am with life, I am always writing. No matter if nobody reads it. No matter if I don’t share it or it’s completely therapeutic. Or it’s dry and academic. In some way or another, I always have to be writing and expressing myself in this way.

So my goal is to build on that. To hone my craft and develop my voice, and beyond that, to put my voice out there and allow others to hear it. In the past, I have been very self-critical to the point of over-thinking and limiting myself. My goal now is to produce, to create in every way that I can, a la Neil Gaiman. Because, come on, no one ever got better by not trying. If I don’t apply myself now, all of these ideas I have floating around in my head will never materialize.

To put it in terms of time: this year I want to create a concrete collection of poems and send them for publishing and/or send them to different journals. I want to fill this blog with posts every month (a new post at least once a week) – and develop within my niche. And I’m hoping to have a good draft for my novel, The Dark Realm, by November. I haven’t really started working chapter by chapter because of energy place on establishing other habits, but once I have a good rhythm, I plan on taking my outline/planning and starting to chip away at those ideas bit by bit until I get something concrete to share. Essays, of course, go with the blog to a certain extent, although the blog will also include more anecdotal and list stuff. It’s more of a platform to highlight various parts of my experience.

     2. Travel – and Document

This summer, I’ve already got two concrete travel plans: Backpacking in South America independently (with a little help from my friends that live in different countries and couch surfing/hostel friends I have yet to meet). The other is a mochilero trip with a friend who was actually my chaperone back when I went to Spain for a couple weeks as a senior trip in high school (how cool is that continuity?). I’ve been saving a lot to make these plans a reality, which of course is another big goal/goal-facilitator that can’t be overlooked.

In these travels, I want to combine my writing and picture-taking to tell a cohesive story of Latin America, the reality that I once only knew on an academic level, which is to say the complexities of the culture and societal dynamics (economy, history, current events, etc.). I love exploring for exploration’s sake, but if I could do at least a little to lessen the ignorance we see on a broad scale in the States, well, hey, I sure as hell want to contribute my two sense/cents.

Plus, the goal is to get other people intrigued so that they will go out and explore more, too. By living an experience, immersing yourself in another culture, we grow as individuals and as global citizens. Our mind’s horizons expand. You can feel the change and, I kid you not, nothing is ever the same. It sounds dramatic, but I know living abroad has changed me for the better. It’s made me more aware of what matters to me, the sort of person I am, and what other’s can teach me. We grow up thinking the world consists of what is truly only a bubble of reality, a small fragment of a much larger novel (hell, it’s more of a Robert Jordan-esque multileveled universe of epics, but I digress). So this goal is a real big one for me and for my development as a human being, which revolves around the broader goal of self-actualization.

     3. Get a good camera and develop a photography portfolio

On that note, I need to get a good camera (which, again, is where saving right now is so crucial) so that I can properly document these experiences. There are so many things which catch my eye: people, relationships, shades, little details that create connections between language and images. I’ve always had this goal, but I never had the means. Now, with my budgeting, I feel fairly confident I can afford a good camera by the time summer rolls around and start focusing on a new craft.

     4. Increase fluency in Portuguese and start developing some conversational/integrated skills in at least 2 other languages

This is fairly self-explanatory: by the time I’m 30, I want to be able to call myself confidently mult-lingual. That shit doesn’t happen on its own over night. There are some people that have amazing memories. Some people are surrounded by a multitude of languages and have to learn out of necessity or have the social circle that facilitates them learning. But the absence of those attributes and unique circumstances is not an excuse not to throw myself into self-studying and improving the capacities I already have in a few languages now.

The specific languages I’m focusing on are Portuguese (for obvious reasons, it’s the easiest for me because I’m already fluent in Spanish; it’s more being persistent and speaking as much as I can while developing vocabulary via listening, writing, and reading). I want to go to Brazil this summer, so this one is a big one. Luckily, I have a few years of casual study and a few Brazilian people that can help me. It’s just a matter of taking advantage of that.

The other primary language I would like to become conversational in is Japanese. You might ask, why Japanese? Well, I want to live and work in Japan by the time I’m 30. How I will do this, I haven’t entirely figured out, but I will make it happen. I’ve already got the basis in the language. I can write decently. The pronunciation is easy. But I need to get some good conversation practice and learn more vocabulary, which takes work. For now, I’m working on vocabulary so that when it comes time to speak I have some knowledge to draw on.

On the periphery, there is my basic knowledge of German and French. Those two are next on the list, but they seem further away. Language study takes time. I try to make it a daily thing so it’s easier to integrate it into my life and keep those mental pathways open. However, there aren’t that many people around speaking these languages in Colombia. So it takes effort. And these two are harder in terms of grammar and pronunciation. But once I have a good rhythm in Portuguese and Japanese, I’m going to start working more seriously on these two. And from there, the list goes on….

     5. Start a new career more centered on my passions*

This is going to take time, and I know it. Right now, I’ve got a pretty good thing going for me as a teacher. I enjoy it. It motivates me and keeps me disciplined. However, it is not what I want to do indefinitely, and I know it. It is a passion, but it isn’t the passion I want to marry, you feel me?

I want to work with non-profits. I need to volunteer more. Build a more diverse resume. Advertise my translation skills. What does that certificate I studied  and the money I paid for worth if I don’t? Hay que poner pilas!

     6. Translation and potential Interpretation Certification/Experience

Obviously this is a big part of the previous goal, but more specifically I need to build my translation portfolio. And look for an interpretation program. It’s a skill that takes practice, plus that will help boost my resume.

     7. Choose a Master’s program and work on the application process**

I’ve began looking into different Master’s programs. I know that if I want to go into diplomacy and international relations in the future, it would behoove me to, well, study and deepen my knowledge in that area. Living abroad isn’t enough. I need the contacts and the research to really get me to where I want to be as a professional. It’s just hard to decide when I haven’t settled on a place to live next year. Stability is something I have lacked and something I’m trying to cultivate despite my very spontaneous life style and multifaceted interests and pursuits.

Right now, I think I’m going to keep researching online programs. Its a resume-builder, for sure, but honestly, I’m more concerned with a continued pursuit of knowledge than a higher pay grade. Although that part would kind of help with the rest of my goals, so….it can’t hurt.

     8. Stay fit – in body and mind (dance, yoga, and weights)

I love being active. I love the way it makes me feel. I was reflecting today, and there are three activities that make me totally zone out and forget about everything that stresses me: cooking, dancing, and any other physical activity (as well as writing, but sometimes channeling that energy can increase my anxiety, too). Oh and washing dishes. I’m weird, okay?

In short, I don’t want to be fit to be skinny. I don’t want to be fit for the instagram followers or the praise or the interest of boys. I want to be active. I need to be fit to be active and healthy. I need to be strong so that my body can handle more stress. If I can handle more stress, I’m sick less, and being less sick makes me less stressed and being less stressed makes me less sick. See how that one works? So, really, being fit is more about being strong so that I can do more.

Also, I really love dancing, but I’d like to feel more confident when I do it. Yoga helps with balance and meditation. Weights provide strength. All of them require discipline and practice.

     9. Maintain a healthy diet and good eating habits – oh and more cooking.

All of my goals are kinda related, no? Well, if I wanna be strong and get sick less, I have got to eat better. This one I’ve been working on a lot lately, starting with waking up and making myself a good breakfast. Like, not just cereal or yogurt or breakfast bar, but actual omelettes (du fromage), granola, yogurt, fruit, juice, water…. The works. I still don’t really eat dinner, but I think I balance my meals okay throughout the day. And if I need to eat at night, I’m trying to cook on Sundays and plan meals ahead of time.

Last year, I started getting and staying chronically ill. Gastritis, acid reflux, and sometimes an inability to eat without feeling awful, no matter what I ate. During the holidays, I was able to reset, and I realized that the doctor that performed my endoscopy was totally right: my problems are linked to stress. Stress and poor eating habits. So I’m trying to work on both and get sick less. Because when I’m sick, I’m miserable. I feel like I’m unable to do anything, which leads to this awful sense of stagnation and anxiety. And then the vicious cycle repeats ad nauseum. Literally.

     10. Continue building and strengthening positive relationships with people around me and leave negativity at the door.

This goal is definitely a strong personal one. Networking is important, but having real friends that you can rely on is even more important. Living abroad has made me realize that these genuine ties are so vital. They practically set a benchmark for defining our own happiness and fulfillment in whatever life situation we find ourselves. Without a strong support system, everything else seems greyer and less meaningful. Work is just work. But when you feel like you are part of something and work to maintain good relationships with the people around you, life and its labors become more meaningful. It also creates a sense of peace of mind.

I’ve been known to be confrontational. Negative. A bit abrasive. And I’ve had some relationships in my life that did not help me overcome those sorts of character traits. Being abrasive and direct is not necessarily a bad thing, but like all things, it requires moderation.

Living in Colombia has made me realize the importance of strong, positive interpersonal relationships – for accomplishing goals and just generally living a more fulfilling life. I see how my attitudes and actions can affect others and also affect the general outcome of various scenarios. When I’m positive and bear in mind the things I am in control of rather than dwelling on those I am not, I am able to connect to others in a meaningful way and truly enjoy the moment. These lessons have been invaluable for me. My goal is to continue strengthening the close relationships I have and doing what I can to contribute to a positive local and global community, focusing on the Butterfly Effect, the ripple of every choice and action we make.

 

Okay, I think that’s a good broad portrait of the things I want to work on and accomplish.

Here is how I hope to achieve them:

  • Budgeting
  • Time Management
  • Prioritizing
  • Flexibility
  • Habits. Make it a habit.
  • Developing and sharing hobbies 
  • Mindfulness and meditation (be more stoic)
  • Focusing on the self and maintaining a healthy growth mindset
  • Getting help (and not being afraid to ask)
  • Dedicate time each day to the areas that need improvement 
  • Self-assess and check in (continue with therapy)
  • Read more and take advantage of daily learning opportunities (be a life-learner)
  • Game plan and follow-through

I would expand on each, but I think it’s all pretty clear at this point. We have a limited amount of hours in the day, but if we prioritize and think of how we can work on each area every week and find moments in between – well, we make progress. As long as we’re working and making an effort to do something with our energy, we are making progress.

And I want 2018 to be my year of progress. Every year has involved metamorphosis. Sometimes it has involved loss. Often it has. Mainly, the loss has been a result of focusing my energy on the wrong thing or simply not focusing at all. Harnessing energy and managing time in a meaningful way takes a lot of effort, but I know it will be worth it in the end.

Because, in the end, successful or not, I will have created something. This all might be fairly self-indulgent, but let’s face it: we all are self-indulgent. We all want to leave our mark and contribute something to the universe. We want our existence to be significant.

But significance doesn’t generate itself. I plan to take advantage of whatever opportunity I’ve gotten and not to spend as much time internally panicking and stressing the little things that ultimately will be forgotten by the next year, and more so by the next 10 years. It’s not about checking off every detail and simply focusing on the accomplishment itself. It’s about the journey towards these goals, not the destination.

How are you accomplishing your goals? Do you feel over-ambitious or under-ambitious? How do you manage your time and plan things realistically? Maybe we can swap insights. Leave a comment below!

 

Dating and /Not/ Dating in Colombia

In honor of Valentine’s Day (and its wonderfully appropriate alternative: Galentine’s day, brought to us by the comedic genius of Parks & Rec), I’d like to recap some of my horrifyingly hilarious experiences I’ve had in the Colombian dating arena.

Many times, I was thrust into this game unwitting or unwillingly. You’ll soon see how that is possible by the powers of machismo, though I assure you, it should come as no surprise.

In Colombia, I think it’s fair for me to say that dating culture, in general, is quite toxic. This is because of some harmful stereotypes-made-real and culturally-accepted norms, ranging from no-means-yes and yes-means-anything-goes and lying (both benevolently and not) in order to maintain a certain facade within the relationship (which does almost inevitably lead to straight up infidelity).

I know it’s been said, but this is, of course, anecdotal. There may be no studies relaying just why it is or the frequency at which these sorts of things happen. However, that doesn’t diminish the fact that they do happen, and mostly it’s because of the dominant machista culture. I’ll go in to what machismo is via examples throughout the post.

Most recently, I was invited to go swimming with a guy I barely knew. I met him while hanging out with a friend and her friends (and their friends) the night before. Bear in mind: I had expected us to go to the pool in a group, which seems safe, am I right? But his intentions weren’t completely unclear either. That morning, he had sent me several texts that read very…flirtatious. But that’s normal here. What Colombian doesn’t call most women “mi vida,” “bebe,” “mi amor,” “princesa,” etc.? You would be surprised. However, the excessive amounts of winking and suggestive-face emojis clearly gave him away.

Now, I really wanted to go swimming. Just keep that in mind. So I said yes, why not? I mean, worst case scenario, he’s just very awkward, right? I have to shun a few untoward remarks, maybe. No big deal.

Wrong. You see, when men like you here, they don’t care if you are as stiff as a corpse. They will touch YOU. Now doesn’t that just have the word RAPE spelled all over it in big crimson letters. Sometimes I forget this, and the shock is real.

As soon as I got in the cab when he pulled up at my house, he put his arm around me. Strike one. He started to caress my shoulder in this utterly cringe-inducing way as he spoke at length about things he assumed I knew nothing about and made general smalltalk. I tried to pretend not to notice, attempting to keep things light and friendly. He kept getting closer and closer to me. I could feel my skin crawling, that sensation you get when there are tons of invisible ants all over you.

By the time we got to the pool, he was trying to hold my hand, not letting me more than a few inches from him. We would talk and laugh or carry on (conversation in all its forms is my ultimate defense mechanism when I am really uncomfortable), and then he leaned in and without any sort of preamble (other than some sort of throw-away “sultry” – in his mind – phrasing) tried kissing me, which landed on my chin. This happened several times. When it happened, I went rigid. I told him I barely knew him, the physical contact is too intense, it’s making me uncomfortable – I mean how much clearer could I be?

He pretended to care, said it was no problem, insisted on asking if I was comfortable and having a good time. But as soon as I dropped my guard, the same awkward dance would begin again.

He would look for pretexts to touch me. In the pool, he tried to lift me up and carry me around. On the balcony looking over the city’s valley and surrounding mountain peaks, while I was trying to admire the view, he cornered me and blocked my line of vision. He recited poetry to me, sang at me, basically wrapped his legs around me at one point.

Need I go on? It was absolutely obnoxious. Then he had the nerve, after I told him more than once that none of that was cool, to ask me if I would be interested in going out with him some more. To which a cocked my head to the side and coyly responded, “Wait, what? Since when was this a date? I’m just barely getting to know you. And no, I would not be and am not interested in going out with anyone at the moment. No offense.”

Why do I feel the need to tack on the disclaimers? “No offense.” I suppose it’s hard to reject men flatly when you’re in a situation in which you are forced to be around them alone. It’s not that I felt physically threatened by him, but it’s just uncomfortable. My instincts to be polite often get me in trouble, and more so in situations like this. I imagine on some level it’s because women are trained to be polite above all else. Which in no way backfires, of course…

This phenomena of touching the other person whether they express that they want it or not and assuming that it is okay to press boundaries is all too common.

Even with my ex, there were times I did not want to be intimate, and to be frank, he would ignore just how rigid and indifferent my body language was, or that my words expressed that I felt. Somehow, all of this behavior gets written off as normal here. Which has led me to having to fight to express myself and then feel ignored or written off when I say, hey, stop, that’s not what I’m into.

If you are going to date a guy here, as with any cultural context, you must recognize that everyone is different. No two people are alike. This might maintain you with at least a little bit of hope and optimism. However, there are some broad norms that become patterns for some underlying reason. Most of what I’m describing here is do to machismo.

To give you a textbook definition, machismo is a strong or exaggerated sense of manliness; an assumptive attitude that virility, courage, strength, and entitlement to dominate are attributes or concomitants of masculinity. Are you seeing the assumptive patterns here?

Another example of how toxic dating culture can be here is the constant feeding of the male ego. I’ve now had several encounters with men who literally do not shut up about themselves. They will start asking you questions – only to cut you off before you’ve even completed a sentence.

It starts with them asking a million questions in order to seem like they are actually interested in you. Like, “So, tell me about yourself. What do you like? Where are you from? What’s your passion in life?”

Your mind begins to work over the slew of questions. You begin, “Well, I’m not sure where to begin. I’m really passionate about–”

“Oh, so did I tell you I just started working at this company blahblahblah.”

It really is that bad. And they expect you to just go along with it. And god forbid you interrupt them, because I have seen more than one guy get indignant or simply ignore everything I have said because, hold on, he didn’t finish.

Entitlement. When he cares, it matters. When you are interested, it’s up to him. And generally speaking, whenever a guy gets hit by the urge to mess around here, he expects his demands to be met. As illustrated with my ex as well as the guy I barely met, women are expected to just bend over and take it. Your refusal or disapproval is easily ignored. But don’t expect him to be around when you need or want something.

Which leads me to the next point: vanity. On one hand, it can be nice to date someone that cares about his appearance and actually wants to look good for you. But the dark side of that is the problematic behavior that concern can generate. It manifests itself in more than just an obsession for one’s physical appearance, but general appraisal of everything related to oneself. In a word: ego. I have seen how the image of a person can be set before the person themself. Sometimes it manifests itself in insisting that you only post pictures in which they look perfect. Other times, its demanding that you change your image in order to suit their whims. In all cases, it is exhausting and superficial.

Another common occurrence is texting in order to “manage” you and maintain your interest. “Que haces” is the most common and literally repetitive question. Sometimes I’ve been asked what I am doing with no more than a few minutes in between, as if there were literally nothing else to say or talk about. There is a sense of micromanaging as a means of control here. If you don’t respond, you obviously are devoting your time to someone else or something that *gasp* may be more important than your pretendiente!

Then there is planning. This spontaneously can pop up on the whim of your lover, and the proposal may be more of a pointed “we are going to do…” or “I want to do…” and less of a “hey, I was wondering if you would like to…”

As an American, I was used to the latter, more courteous manner of suggesting activities. Most Americans aren’t that forward when they are just getting to know each other, at least, not the crowd I tend to run with. I have never experimented with Tinder, but I did have my fair share of okcupid dates, and aside from a few cocky bastards, very rarely was a date demanded rather than suggested, without some caveat to make sure the other person feels comfortable even considering it a date. We Americans, in my experience, are less determined to put a label on our relationships too early in the game. In my opinion, it avoids conflict but can lead to confusion once someone inevitably catches feels and wants to know where they stand.

Speaking of being American, thanks to being the minority in the small coastal city I live in, I have been blessed with the experience of being exotified. If I was insensitive or indifferent at some point to the struggle of women of other ethnicities in the states, I can safely say that I do understand how it must feel to be reduced to a label, a stereotype, and fetishized for it – and it’s awful. It sucks. It really makes you hate everything associated with that label. The comments are cringe-worthy. The “be my sexy English teacher” and “let me teach you how to dance” and “all gringas are easy” are a broken record that drives you madder and madder everytime it enters conversation – and believe me, if you meet a guy here and you are American, it will. I don’t think I will ever date anyone again that clearly had some romanticized or crude American-Pie-fueled image of me again.

But going back to Colombian culture, dating is a clearly established game. However, the rules are generally “don’t ask, don’t tell” when it comes to the sort of transparency that tells you if other people are in the picture or not. Exclusivity, I have realized, is not as much as a given as the fact that if you accept an invitation to go on a date, in the guy’s mind you are probably “dating” unless he says otherwise. Even if he’s also seeing several girls on the side. Or one “officially.”

I have still yet to meet a man here that will straight up tell me if he has a girlfriend when he expresses interest in me. Even if I meet him with another girl that is clearly somehow sentimentally or physically involved with him, there is often a lie, either implicit or explicit: no, it’s nothing serious, I’m into you. 

I’m starting to develop a sixth sense for this shadiness. Now I won’t take a guy as seriously and will most likely just walk away if he even suggests having something serious too quickly, assuming that he has a girlfriend. This is because I have been led on or straight up duped into thinking a guy was single only to be told by others or find out clandestinely that there was another woman in the picture the whole time. For me, as someone that as a rule would never go for a guy that is committed to someone else, that is absolutely devastating.

Returning to the theme of machismo, I’ve realized that there is an implicit cultural acceptance for infidelity if the man is doing the cheating. It shows his “swagger”, his prowess, his…insecurity. I think the root is insecurity and the lack of genuine relationships. Because these same people that tend to be unfaithful and dishonest about it also assume and go nuts over the idea that their partner could do the same to them.

Once, I realized a guy was acting rather cold with me after showing so much interest every time we saw each other. I thought maybe I was overthinking it or projecting, but it came back to me that he actually lived with someone and was in a committed relationship. This never came up in any of our conversations. The only tip was the cold manner in which he texted me and the spontaneous attention whenever we would see each other.

There’s a certain feedback loop of men doing what they want because they want it and not considering the consequences. I think this is a direct symptom of machismo, which is all about the ability of men to do just that in order to assert their manliness. However, if a woman does the same, I need not even go into the litany of insults that exist in Spanish to describe her.

Infidelity is a man’s game here. And a game it is. These days, I don’t date, and if I do in the future, it will be with utmost detachment and caution.

Obviously, I am just a cynic that has seen some of the worst in dating in Colombia. Perhaps I’ll write a post in which I contradict all of this because some beautiful person comes and sweeps me off my feet. I highly doubt it though, as a lot of this is less to do with my personal experience and more to do with the broad echoes of the dull roar of the antiquated conquista attitude that remains embedded in dating culture here today.

A imagem pode conter: 1 pessoa, texto

On that note, I wish you all a Happy Valentine’s (or Galentine’s) day! Love yourselves first – then and only then can you appreciate and recognize the genuine love of others.

Versos de Colombia

I’ve decided to share the poems that I have written since living and being inspired by life in Colombia. Some days the inspiration is so great, I can’t help but sit and let flow poem after poem. They generally aren’t long, but I feel they are significant for where I am in my life and the person this experience has molded me into being.

Plus, come on, y’all. I’m practically 26. I’ve been telling people I’m 26 without meaning to because subconsciously I’m already there. I feel like in this year and a half I have grown and matured more than in all of my years before combined.

Okay, maybe that is a bit hyperbolic. But yes, I’ve really settled into myself. And that shift in perspective, the embrace of self and denial of anything that does not grow or nourish the self is due in large part to the simple decision I made to live and teach in Colombia.

I will put the Spanish and English versions for those that don’t speak Spanish, so you can hopefully really absorb the meaning.

Al mal Tiempo

Her voice
Like the arroyo washing back
A reassuring hush

Her eyes
Like half moons hidden
Beneath dreamy clouds

Her bones
Brittle yet stark like yue bark
Not easily bent

I see her
Sitting in her mecedora
Reading Catholic psalms
In her flowing, multihued manta

The strength of the Colombian-
Of the Wayuu-
Al mal tiempo, buena cara.

This first poem I wrote back when I was first living in Fonseca at the end of 2016. I stayed with an older woman of Wayuu-indigenous origins (though she is very much a part of that culture presently) who was the sister of the woman that inspired this poem. I was always struck by her straight back in the face of difficulties and hardship and her unwavering resolve. Just every part of her radiates strength that her fragile body would deny. The Wayuu are a strong people. Even though there were moments she could get under my skin, I’m so happy for the time I spent with her and her family.

El Abismo

No es que sea por rencor
Pero espero que sigas con ese ardor
Y ese salado sabor
Cuando mi nombre pasa por tu boca,
Por todas las lágrimas y sudor
Gastados en vano por tocar
El abismo más profundo de mi alma.

The Abyss

It’s not to be bitter,
But I hope you still feel the burn
And that salty taste
When my name passes through your mouth,
For all the tears and sweat
Spent in vain by touching
The deepest abyss of my soul.

Love has come knocking at my door, although the fruit of that love was far from savory. Sometimes, recontextualizing myself within this culture, understanding the way people play the game of relationships, was something I had to do in order to survive and remove myself from situations that did not serve me on my journey or help me love myself, but instead led me further astray and caused me to forget myself and what has always been important to me.

Dark times, toxic relationships, shifts that have challenged me in this journey and have inspired my verses as well. Sometimes the best way to phrase and manage the hurt people can cause you is via poetry. The end of my last relationship can be summed up as a…

Twisted Fairytale

In truth, the slate has been wiped clean.
He broke the chains of my denial
With his poor, decrepit tongue
Sugar-coated in lies and poisoned in seduction.
I could never live, could never know true
Desire, love, heartache
Again by that harsh sword-

I would rather fall on my sword
Than taste those bittersweet remedies
Again and fall beneath myself.

Thank my pride for the strength it provides;
Thank my love of self and other to realize-
I was never loved by that other and never
Would be or could be-
Thank my nerve to say enough is enough.

And most importantly, thank the signs
Held up by angels among me,
Those gentle voices that know
And eyes that have seen and stung
With tears so that mine would not-

Thank my friends who have taught me
My own self-worth, to trust my own inner voice,
For they are the true heroes in this sad story
Where I am both the damsel and the knight,
And happy endings are never what they seem.

 

So, with that epoch sealed, I decided to love myself. To love myself ferociously and passionately, secure in the knowledge that I am all I have got.

Narcissus

I would jump into a million lakes,
Head down, face first
Into my reflection,
If it means that I could love
Myself,
Alone; Forever.

Faithful

I made a promise
To never be unfaithful again
To the most important person
In my whole world,
The one I go to bed with
Every night:

Me.

In spite of the pain I experienced, the journey itself has been totally worth it. It has aided in my process of self-discovery and the affirmation of my self-worth and independent spirit. Since breaking up with my ex, I have traveled both outward and inward – to Tayrona, Santa Marta, Ocaña, climbed the beautiful Estoraques, and began planning my independent summer adventures throughout South and Central America. The breakup opened a floodgate of creativity for me that has led me to be more reflective and respect and recognize the beauty in all the things around me.

Continuum

Puedo verlos bailando,
La ondulación como olas
En un mar ámbar
E inquieto.

I can see them dancing,
The undulation like waves
In an amber, restless sea.

IMG_20180110_222830361.jpg
Taken outside of a club in Santa Marta during my get-away in early January

Acertijo

Mi Esencia
No se puede atrapar
En una mirada de miel
Y un cuerpo
De carne y hueso.
Soy tierra y fuego–
El mar y sus olas bailadoras–
Soy palabra y aire–
Soy–

Riddle

My Essence
Cannot be trapped
In a honey gaze
And a body made
Of meat and bone.
I’m earth and fire–
The sea and its dancing waves–
I’m word and air–
I am–

The idea here was to be phrased like a riddle. I start by going to the root of my meaning, my essence, that which makes me as a person. I was reflecting not too long ago on the selfie sensation, the need to post pictures of oneself and show the world our best face. I realized that who I am really isn’t contained by that image–in fact, it could never be contained by it because that image of decaying perfection is also impermanent.

So what am I? I am a human being. And human beings transcend the prisons their flesh holds them in. Our spirits and energies make us one with nature, and nature brings meaning to what we are. I suppose it’s something I’ve learned about myself, the view I have of myself as being now far less narrow and 2-dimensional.

There have been other scribblings and fragmented thoughts along the way, but these were the principle verses I have written here. I feel like they represent the metamorphosis – the starting and beginning again where I started from but a bit fuller and wholer, the whole cycle of self-growth – really well. Now, to add some more to the list.