First Impressions

I base many of my tastes on first impressions.

A nice smile, a funny joke, sincere questions: let's go out for coffee again soon.

A late arrival, endless self absorption and a rude remark: I place you in a box, lock and throw away the key.

Bogota first showed me a face of indifference, millions of eyes staring straight ahead. Features that are piecemeal, thrown together without thought or plan. And no matter how hard you stare, it is hard to find much beauty in the cruel eyes of reality. However, over time, you begin to see a sly smirk. A generosity and kindness exists beneath the surface of it all. Beauty, humor and culture scatter about like freckles. And you finally begin to see the magic of the place when Bogota finally smiles.

But then you meet Cartagena, and realize what an enchantress truly is. She surrounds you at once with sweltering heat and idyllic palms. The echo of your feet on the cobbled streets ring of history from long ago. The colors vibrate off the walls of the haciendas and the fruits of the tropic. I round the corner of the narrow street and am overwhelmed by the beauty of a Palenquero woman. She balances a bowl of fragrant fruit atop her head as her traditional canary yellow dress swishes to and fro. I try not to gawk at the picturesque scene while I pinch myself to know that this is not a dream. I walk to one of the many plazas and seek shelter beneath a tree. A tall thin black man doses next to me on the bench and the empanada stand bustles with students. I take a deep breath of the steamy air and realize that I have only been in Cartagena less than an hour. Already she has undressed me to my underclothes and covered me  with a shimmer of sweat. I relax on the bench, drinking the sweet nectar of cool mango juice. I try to remind myself that not all that glitters in gold, that beauty can be deceiving.  But it is too late. I have been seduced. Under her spell, I love her for glamour and overlook her flaws. So I decide to sit back and doze while the heat envelops me. Cartagena's first impression is irresistible, and I am merely human.

Top Five Amusing Moments

Some of the most entertaining and cheapest thrills you can find while traveling are free. If you keep your sense of humor and are observant, a quick walk down the street can be more hilarious than any movie of Will Ferrell. I find Latin American culture to be especially interesting and oftentimes quite funny. So here is a list of the top five amusing sights from the streets of Bogota.

1. Public Transportation is the great equalizer. No matter how elegant, beautiful or graceful you are, you climb aboard a packed bus that is standing room only and you better hang on for dear life, because comfort is not the drivers priority but rather speed and quick stops to allow passengers on and off. If you add into the mix being a particularly tall foreigner, than our sight gets even more interesting. Imagine squatting slightly at the knees so your head doesn't bump the ceiling, you clutch your bag with one hand to make sure there are no pickpockets, and then you try and hold tightly onto the seat back in front of you without grabbing the persons hair or making it too obvious that you are inches away from sitting in their lap. All this while your bus speeds from 0 to 40 km and back again in mere seconds. Entertaining indeed!

                                         

2. Rent a phone on a chain. Here in Colombia most people have go-phones. This means that you don't have a phone plan, rather you buy credit every few weeks to charge your phone. However, sometimes you run out of credit and don't have a lot of money to charge your phone. It can happen to all of us. And of course during this inconvenient time, you must get in touch with your boyfriend, girlfriend, colleage or mother to let them know you are running late. So what is the answer? Why a phone on a chain. Instead of pay phones, you can find individuals who have cell phones waiting for just this moment. Pay 25 cents a minute, stand about 1 foot away or as far as the chain will go and make your phone call (just better hope it isn't too personal).
                                           
3. My bike is my office (and my trailer, my grill, my restaraunt, my marketing publication and so much more). Just when you thought a bike was a bike, yeah there are those cute trailers for kids, but it's more or less a bike, well think again. I have never before seen so many various uses for bikes. There are some with full grills on the front, (I'm talking the ones with hot coals underneath) so one can have a mobile arepa stand. How do they steer? No idea. Or perhaps one can't afford a billboard? Just make a portable one, put it on a small trailer and start pedaling. Nothing is more eyecatching than a moving billboard. What could be more convenient than a convenient store on wheels? As I stand on the sidewalk waiting to hail a bus, what do I see pedaling past? Why it is a portable convenient store with chips, candy, gum, cigarettes and freshly squeezed oranges. Perhaps I wasn't hungry enough to cross the street and go to the store, but if one is going to pedal directly in front of me, than sure, I'll take a bag of chips for 25 cents. Mmm

4. News flash for everyone in the U.S. Count your blessings for free and unlimited toilet paper. There are many things we take for granted in the U.S., surprisingly toilet paper is one. My time in Colombia has allowed me to appreciate toilet paper in a new way. As I walk to the supermarket after my morning coffee, I suddenly realize I have the urge to use the restroom. I walk to the back of the store to find a women blocking the entrance. She tells me "It will be 500 pesos" (50 cents) and then passes me approximately 6 sheets of paper. Better hope that is all you need, cause you aren't getting more. You would think my private university would be abundantly providing an ever so important part of a bathroom experience. But no, another 500 pesos to a vending machine.  If you are lucky it is stocked. However more often than not, you must make due. So my most critical lesson learned in my first month in Bogota: as I walk out the front door, keys, wallet, phone, umbrella and roll of tp? Check. I'm ready for the day!

5. Umbrellas. Bogota is known to have every kind of weather in one day. You wake up and it is cold, wait a few hours for the sun to peak out and you will be shedding your layers in a hurry. Just when you think you can leave your coat at home, look our your office window and see that suddenly, it is raining. People never leave home without their umbrella. So when it begins to drizzle, you and the other 9 million bogotanos whip out your convenient umbrella. However, no one took into account that the size needed for a person walking down the sidewalk doubles when you carry an umbrella. So as you hurry down the sidewalk you find yourself playing chicken with an elderly woman with an oversized umbrella. You lay yours to the side as you sidestep her. But next is a light post right in the center of the sidewalk. Is there room to pass between it and the building? Or do you get trapped, the space being one centimeter too small for the umbrella's circumference. You see a man and wonder do I bring my up or down as we pass eachother, and then suddenly there is that awkward moment where you both raised your umbrella up and you find yourselves in a tangled mess. Sometimes I think it is easier to wear a rain coat and forget the umbrella....but gosh they do such a better job of keeping you dry!

Usaquen and Hot Springs

Latin America is often known for having many holidays, and Colombia definitely falls into this category. My third weekend here was a puente (holiday weekend) which allowed me to go exploring. My housemate and I decided to spend our Sunday touring Usaquén, a colonial town that has now been absorbed by the sprawl of Bogotá. We took the bus up the Septima, which is the main north-south artery through the city. On Sunday the city shuts down one half of the street to cars so that Colombians can walk, bike or run for miles and miles (known as Ciclovia). As we headed north, I enjoyed watching the couples, families, dogs and cyclists take advantage of the sunny afternoon.
                                    
We stepped off the bus arriving in Usaquén. Immediately the difference between the northern sprawl of Bogotá and this once colonial town was astounding. It felt as though we had left Bogotá altogether. The streets were lined with old buildings, churches and stand after stand of artesian crafts. Colombia is still recovering from its old identity as a drug ridden, violent place. Although the country's face has changed drastically from the 1990's, many tourists are still wary of traveling to Colombia. However this is changing, slowly but surely there is an increase of foreignors traveling or moving to Colombia. In Usaquén, I easily felt as though I was in Buenos Aires or Sevilla. Person after person passed by speaking French, English or Chinese. Street performers seranaded us with traditional Colombian music, dogs performed tricks and then ran through the crowd with baskets in their mouths asking for donations, people dressed as statues held still as stone until you threw in a few pesos, then bounced to life for a minute startling the passersby. Bertille and I enjoyed perusing through the various shops, trying on jewelry, touching hand woven blankets and tasting the various desserts.

 

On Monday, some Fulbrighters and I decided to take a trip out of the big city. We were all tired of the cold, rainy weather and therefore concluded that some hot springs were exactly what we needed. We gathered when it was not bright, because it was rainy and gross, but still early (9am) at the bus station. We walked up and down the aisle, being hawked by various bus drivers "Gringas van a Villa de Leyva?" "Oye, Suesca, Suesca, Suesca 12 mil" o "Chicos vamos a Chia" as if we would wander around the bus terminal to see who could convince us which would be the best city to visit. We found our bus to Choconta and hopped on. The five of us climbed comfortably into our reclining seats, watching as the bus driver slowly creeped out of town, asking any passersby if perhaps they wanted to make a spontaneous trip to Choconta. (There were no takers). We began the journey out of Bogotá where the city faded into pastures and small towns. Midway into the drive, we made a very quick stop at a restaraunt, where a waitress came running out with a boxed meal to pass off to the driver. I was impressed that they could coordinate such a handoff to occur in less than 2 minutes. One hour later the driver pulled to the side of the highway and directed us up a dirt road. "Just walk about 15 minutes that way and you should find the hot springs." Like cows being led to pasture, we ambled up the road passing the obvious parking lot and continuing towards the wandering chickens and sheep. After 10 minutes of walking up the muddy, rutted road, avoiding stray dogs and being avoided by the roosters and hens, we came across a nice couple who told us to turn around and go back to where we started. After our quick detour, we found the very obvious entrance and made our way to the hot springs.

The hot springs were in the bottom of a lush, beautiful valley. Beside the pool was a rushing river and up above on the green, flowering hilltop was a waterfall. Along with the view of the incredible landscape were the great people watching opportunities. There were men in speedos, women wearing tights under their bikins, babies in floaties, girls with jean shorts on (in the pool), shirts written in English that said things like "Number one beautiful, spectacular hottie", and more chest and back hair than I have seen in a year.  Surrounding the springs was farmland where alpacas and turkeys wandered in  harmony. The adopted pets of the resort were a mangy rooster and a friendly, crippled parrot. They seemed to enjoy all the attention and treats the tourists fed them. We relaxed and sweated until our fingers and toes were wrinkled. By four we decided to make our way back to Bogotá before it got too dark. Not quite so easily or comfortably we eventually flagged down a bus on the main road. Full of people, we squeezed onto the bus giving up any hope of relaxing in a seat and taking a nap. We clutched our backpacks and the seats besides us, and got to know our neighbor standing beside us in the aisle of the bus very well. Lurching forward, backward and side to side we slowly made the hot, uncomfortable ride home. Three hours later I found myself happily home where I climbed into my bed and had one of my deepest sleeps in some time.

Waiting

Hustle and bustle

sirens, brakes squeal, horns blast screaming for movement

sirens, louder, louder, howling, crying, shrieking

my heart races, my ears burn

until

it passes and the wailing quickly fades away.

The cars keep passing

a continous cycle of stop and go

otorbikes weaving in and out, narrowly missing side mirros.

My eyes brighten as the sun peaks out from behind the clouds.

People walking

an woman slowly trudges along,

her shawl covers her hunched shoulders,

as she carefully places her cane.

A girl skips, her ponytail bouncing and hand held tightly by her mom

a man in a suit quickly ambles away,

clutching his umbrella, just in case.

Students are weighed down by heavy packs,

striding to the pace of the music in their ears.

The wind picks up and I reach for my jacket,

the sky grey once again.

My eyes search across the street,

beyond the blooming purple and red flowers

looking as the new faces pass by

when suddenly a glass with a straw is set in front of me.

Fresh, cool, sweet mango bursts with flavor across my tongue.

My fried empanada steams and sweats on its napkin.

I reach for the bowl of aji,

taking a spoonful to place on my meal, happy to add some spice.

I set down my pen and pick up my meal.

The waiting is over, it's time for lunch.

Grilling at the Casa

I am getting settled in at my new house in Bogota. Two and a half weeks at the house and it is starting to feel more like a home. What is refreshing about Latin American cities (and to generalize large cities with a lot of foot traffic) is making a niche in your own barrio. Across the street is the small tienda I stop by nearly every day either for yogurt, a couple apples, some butter or perhaps eggs. The same man and boys are always working. They come from a town outside of Bogota called Boyaca and therefore speak in a different accent and talk VERY fast. However they are quickly becoming familiar faces. The man behind the counter always greets people as neighbor or cousin or today I was even called little princess.  The bakery two blocks away is always teeming with people and the enticing smell of fresh bread. Every time I stop in, I point at something new and ask what it is. Croissants filled with bocadillo (a sweet paste made from guayaba fruit) or corazon pastries which are perfectly crisp and sweet to dip in coffee are two of my favorites.

My house is referred to as "Casa de Pulgas" which translates into Flea House. But before you hop on a plane down here to rescue me from bed bugs, I will admit I have not seen one flea yet. I can't exactly tell you the origin of the name, but can say the house has been an international one for quite some time. The current housemates include Sami - a Colombian boy who is studying French at the National University, Bertille - a French girl who is doing a university exchange here to study Political Science, Yurri - a Colombian girl who studies Human Rights and Peggy - a misnomer for a black male cat who can open doors, climb out windows, play fetch and has many other dog like qualities. We share many evenings drinking tea or hot chocolate and swapping stories and cultural phrases. I have learned the phrase "It's on the tip of my tongue" can be directly translated in Spanish and French to be used in the exact same situations. I also learned a nursery rhyme where an elephant balances on a spider thread and calls over more friends to join him (it does end eventually with the thread breaking). My personal favorite is a phrase "Se me fue la paloma" which is used when one can not think of the word or phrase he is looking for. It directly translates as "The dove has left me". I wish we had something so beautiful in English. I will say however I saw my housemate laugh hardest when I told him the sound a rooster makes in English "Cooockadoooodledooo". You didn't know chickens spoke Spanish? Well hear they say Kikirki or Kokoriko. The smart ones sing all three.

The roommates and I spend many evenings cooking. Friends of Sami are always in and out of the house and are quickly becoming friends of all of the housemates. Last weekend we had an
"asado" or barbecue on the porch. Bertille was in charge of Patacones. You start by chopping a plantain into pieces.

Next you fry them in oil until there are a nice golden color.

Then you flatten them into flat cakes and of course fry them again. They are delicious although no so nutritious. We also enjoyed grilled corn, onion, tomatoes, ribs and chicken legs. It was a great feast that lasted for hours. The evening was topped off with grilled bananas sliced down the middle with melted chocolate inside. It was a creation I had never heard of before, but I trust the French when it comes to food and Bertille has not let me down once.

Getting out of the city

After 9 days in Bogota, I began to feel claustrophobic. The overwhelming amount of buildings, concrete and pollution were making my lungs and eyes hurt. I was desperate to get a breath of fresh air (literally). So some friends and I decided to make a day trip to Suesca, a small town an hour from Bogota known for its rock climbing. We took the metro system to the end of the line where we found a small bus that would take us to Suesca. We relaxed in our comfortable reclining seats while we watched more and more people hail the bus and hop on. By the time we were leaving the city limits the aisles of the bus were filled with standing people holding on to seatbacks while the bus lurched forward.

After an hour we turned onto a dirt road and began the bumpy descent into Suesca. Slowly we worked our way to the front of the bus, trying not to fall as we hit pothole after pothole to call for the driver to stop. We hopped off and entered backpackers' bliss. In this tiny town of 100 or less, we surprisingly came across an Asian Fusion restaurant. Despite the size of Bogota, there are not many international restaurants. We jumped at the chance to enjoy veggies and stir fry. I ordered Spring Rolls and Pad Thai that may not have been the same as what I would get in the States, but mmmm mmm it was oh so good.

With full bellies and sunny skies, we stepped behind the restaurant onto the abandoned railroad tracks to start our Suesca hike.

The place was teaming with Colombians. Famous for its rock climbing, there were serious climbers, hippies and backpackers. Also due to its proximity to Bogota, there were families and friends out for picnics and walks. We seemed to be walking through the "backyard" of some farmers and ranchers who take advantage of any vegetation available.

Climbing wouldn't be complete unless you were being watched over by the Virgin Mary.

There were some very serious climbing routes. Can you spot them on this huge rock face?

I'll give you a hint, there is a crevice with a black dot and below that to the right there is another yellow dot.  We continued up the railroad track at a snail's pace. We took in the fresh air, the beautiful vegetation and the rushing sound of the river below. The sun bathed our skin and for the first time in days I was warm and my lungs were filled with clean air.

Eventually we made our way back to Bogota (not before stopping for some gelato). I felt refreshed and ready to start my first week at university.

Bienvenidos a Bogotá

After months of waiting, hours of anxiety and moments of dreaming, I have arrived in Bogotá. I tepidly stepped foot into Colombia, unsure of transplanting my deepening roots into rocky and unfamiliar soil. Upon arrival I found myself being swept away with the current, following the motions without resistance or inquiry. The Fulbright Commission graciously paved the first week for the new grantees where I floated through our first days of lectures, meetings and tours. We had visits with the ambassador, the ministry of education, professors and even the media. The days were long and saturated with information. By night the 7th floor of our hotel transformed into a freshman  college dorm floor where grantees wandered from room to room through open doors, an informal meet and greet. In the few free hours we had to explore, most of us only had the energy to wander aimlessly through the streets close to the hotel, sampling what Bogotá has to offer as street food and beer (arepas - a corn cake that can be filled with meat and cheese, crepes- savory or sweet, grilled corn and various light beers -think Bud light with a Spanish name such as Aguila or Consteña) and being mostly unimpressed by the city´s general sense of pollution, traffic and concrete. Finally on Thursday (our last day of orientation) we received a tour of La Candelaria, the historic downtown where the true beauty, history and culture of the city shines.

We began at the Library - Biblioteca Luis Angel Arango where we received a tour from the Colombian version of Clark Kent (including glasses and suspenders). He showed us the music room where students can use pianos, flutes, drums and record  music. We followed him to this grand room below, which is the concert hall. The impressive dome is made entirely of wooden slats. And since it is a public library, concerts cost anywhere from $1.50 to $15. Clark Kent led us through the bowels of the library where with gloved hands he presented an original complete collection of "El Tiempo" newspaper dating back to late 1800s.

We continued on from there to see the house of Simon Bolivar. (Yes, we wore matching t-shirts to wander around the city center.)

Museo de Oro (Gold)

La Candelaria (and the view of the mountains that surround Bogota)

Plaza de Bolivar

Early the following morning, most of the Fulbright scholars got on another flight to their outlying regions. But I, along with 8 others, lazily awoke and packed our bags to begin our move into our new homes. The lazy river which I casually floated down came to an end. It is time to sink or swim in this city of 9 million.

(Thanks to Liz for most of the photos. She was the intelligent young lady who remembered her camera)

A New Place to Call Home

In less than two weeks I will call home Bogota, Colombia. I leave Tulsa with reservation, but can not pass on this wonderful opportunity to return to South America. I have not stepped foot south of the equator in four years. In that time my life has been filled with gardens and travel, love and growth, laughter and knowledge. Many people ask what I look forward to most. However, I can not help but reflect on what I will miss.

Wyatt ladies at the Farmhouse

The Three Things I will miss about Tulsa:

1. Friends, family and the familiarity of both. To be surrounded by loved ones refreshes a person’s being. Masks are removed. A person has the freedom to truly express who she is, oftentimes with the liberty of doing so without words. The attraction of starting anew can be powerful, however the depth of experiences that one must undergo to truly know a person are irreplaceable. Genuine friendship is a blessing. It provides balance, stability and love to one’s life.

2. Community fosters accountability and lends a sense of belonging. I walk into a bar hand in hand with my love. I smile at the familiar bartender. Across the room is an old friend from college and we catch up on the years that have passed. I look back and my partner has spotted a coworker. I can’t get very far in Tulsa without bumping into a familiar face. The strings that attach me to others have formed a thick web. I haven’t felt tied to as diverse of a community since college. In moments when I feel adrift, it does not take long for one string to be pulled to bring me comfortably back to my thick web of support.

3. Natural beauty nourishes my soul. Tulsa is a beautiful city. No it is not in the Rockies nor does it have an ocean view. Nonetheless the soft rolling hills dotted with sprawling oaks, cottonwoods and redbuds are picturesque. The Arkansas River dissects the city in half providing a sanctuary for wildlife. While the city provides a home to nearly a half million people, one can reach the countryside in a ten minute drive or less. Of course the hustle and bustle of cities can sweep one away with its endless options, but I have come to know that I prefer the slow drift of small towns where nature is only a stones throw away.

The Three Things I look forward to most about Colombia:

1. Speaking Spanish. There can be many frustrations when speaking a second language. There are times when self-expression and storytelling can be reduced to the language of a toddler. Oftentimes one’s identity can feel tied to her native tongue. Even the simplest of tasks can become a monumentous occasion. However language is the key to understanding. Communication in a foreign tongue empowers. One can feel her own language enriched as her mind reaches into its depths to bring forth words never spoken aloud before. The challenges of foreign language are great, as are the rewards.

2. The enchantment of a foreign place. All my life I have been a front row, hand raised type of student. I can truly say that I love learning. Being in an unfamiliar city in a strange country is the most invigorating classroom imaginable. Every corner lends a new perspective. Every person provides a fresh story. Every piece of food exudes unique flavors and textures. I walk through this new place with my senses alive and fully engaged. My head is up and my eyes are open as I take in everything the place can teach me.

3. The unknown and endless possibilities. When I was a young girl I thought I would grow up to work with dolphins or maybe to be a premiere horse trainer. I was never told I had limits or boundaries. My future possibilities were endless. Stepping into a new city, I am filled with the same sentiment. I could be and do anything. I can dance salsa every night until my feet grow tired. I can write articles about new food and restaurants in town where I meet famous chefs. I can photograph street art and interview their artists. I can travel to a coffee farm and pick my own beans. I begin anew in a vast capital offering no limitations except my own imagination.