Fanny Lú

An alumni of Colegio Bolívar who is now a famous singer throughout Latin America came to school today to congratulate the graduating seniors and give little concert.

Fanny Lú has released one album, “Lágrimas Cálidas” (literally “Warm Tears”), and was nominated for a Latin Grammy this past year...she lost. She is most popular in Mexico, Venezuela, and Peru and is gaining popularity in her home country.

Anyways, as you can see, I got to meet her. :) If you want to check out her songs, they are on iTunes. Some of her singles have been "No Te Pido Flores" and "Te Arrepentirás."

Baby Got Back

Just when we are getting achingly close to the end of the year, the nation of Colombia throws a bunch of puentes (three-day weekends) at us. Where were those in February? Well, after an extra long puente at the beginning of the month, we were rewarded with another last weekend. Avid readers will recall a mishap in the Bogotá airport back in December (see: “The Mob & Me”) that resulted in free bonos, or airline money. My then travel buddy, Christine, and I decided to finally take the airline up on their offer of a free trip and fly to Medellín for the weekend.

Medellín is the second largest city in Colombia and one of the most unique as far as the people go. Our guide book said that people from Medellín, paisas, are a lot like Texans in that they have more pride for their state than they do for their country. That is not to say they do not like their country, they just like being a paisa better. There is an art teacher at Colegio Bolívar who is a proud paisa and even has his own “Medellín passport.” It is obviously a joke, but it made me think if a better comparison would be Quebec instead of Texas. Either way, paisas are a proud, hard-working, and friendly people.

Aside from being prideful, paisas love to party. Almost as much as the caleños here in Cali, except with a lot less “plastic.” One night out at dinner I ordered a mojito and was told there was a 3 for 1 deal. I said that one was fine but I apparently misunderstood because the waiter basically told me I couldn’t order just one; I had to get three. Okay! Maybe Quebec isn’t a good comparison either. Maybe it should be…Wisconsin!

Medellín is also one of the safest large cities in Colombia. This has a lot to do with the fact that the once powerful Medellín-cartel no longer exists and that enforcement in this region is strong; probably because President Uribe is a paisa himself. Even the homeless and street people were not threateningly desperate! Because of this security, Christine and I did a lot of walking.

We walked from our hotel in the Central District next to the huge Parque Bolívar, to the Museo d’Antioquia which is home to a cornucopia of works by Colombian, and paisan, artist Fernándo Botero. Botero has a thing for fat people. But not in the same way some renaissance artisits liked to paint supple women of the day. Botero likes everything fat – animals, cars, fruit, bouquets of flowers, even houses are bloated. Before even entering the building there are a dozen or so bronze statues in the plaza out front for the enjoyment and amusement of everyone.

One thing I enjoy about Botero’s work is that it can be both humorous and serious. He has created many works, in his distinct style, that portray very topical events in Colombia’s resent history. Often his paintings are of car bombs, earthquakes, class differences, and even the assassination of Pablo Escobar. The best part is that Botero is still alive and kicking and producing more and more art. It is great to see an artist getting this kind of recognition before they are dead!

We spent the rest of our time in Medellín wandering into various churches, looking at randomly placed sculptures, admiring the efficacy of the public transportation system (they had an elevated train like Chicago!), and eating buñuelos. Actually, I couldn’t get enough of these things. They are the closest thing Colombians have to a donut and are basically giant donut holes. I can get them here in Cali but they seemed much more plentiful in Medellín.

One day we took a day trip to a tiny town west of the city on the other side of the mountains. Sante Fe de Antioquia is an old (founded in the early 1500’s) pueblo paisa that has remained relatively unchanged and is a big weekender place for the people of Medellín. It is also HOT. Before leaving we consulted the guidebook and found that it was comparable to the Amazon region. On the ride two-hour ride there we descended a little over 1000 meters, including a drive through a tunnel that took nearly seven minutes! Needless to say, Christine and I got good at drinking juice and walking on the shady sides of the street.

We saw a few nice cathedrals and parks and a crazy old cemetery. The tombs were all holes in the wall with the “head stone” being the cap on the end; no one was buried in the ground. We considered asking some of the grave diggers sitting around having a noon aguardiente bender but decided against it after hearing some wonderfully colorful language coming from them. (It’s nice when your Spanish is proficient enough to pick up on crude language!)

Being such a cultural hub, Medellín and the rest of the area have way more to offer than we were able to see in a weekend. Hopefully in the future I can score another set of free airline tickets to do some more Botero hunting! Thanks Aerorepublica!

Brought To You By the Letter "C"

If You Can't Swim, You Don't Go; That's Why It's An Adventure











This last weekend became an extra long weekend when the school decided to cancel classes Friday due to anticipated low student attendance because of a national holiday on Thursday and the following Monday. Good call, school!

I took the opportunity to travel to a fairly remote location in the mountains east of Medellin with two elementary teacher-friends of mine, Tina and Lisa. During the trip, one of them suggested we make a list of fun things that happened beginning with each letter of the alphabet. (There's the reason I mentioned they were elementary teachers.) We never did, however, I thought that might be a fun way to remember this trip...and then I sat down to do it and it wasn't so fun. The main problem being there are 26 letters and some of them are "Q", "X", and "Z". Also, I found an over-abundance of memories for the letter "C". Therefore, this recounting will be all about the letter "C".

Canyon The reserve we stayed at sits along the Rio Claro at the bottom of a beautiful tree-lined canyon. Everywhere we hiked, you looked up and see these amazing rock formations towering over you on both sides of the river. There literally wasn't a bad view anywhere! I'm not one for taking excessive pictures (that's a lie), but I found myself flipping through the photos on my camera thinking "I took 80 shots of the same thing!"

Caminando I'm cheating here and using the Spanish for "walking" but it's with good reason. The bus we took to get to the reserve was a Medellin to Bogota bus which meant that about three hours after leaving Medellin we would get dumped off. That's kind of what happened. The driver realized we were passing the Rio Claro as we were going over it and then proceded to drive for another two kilometers before letting us off and then telling us to walk up another road! As the bus, and our link to civilization, drove off, a semi pulled in to go up said road and, after asking where we were going, the truck driver informed us that, yes, indeed, the river was about two kilometers back down the high way. So, we proceded to walk (caminar) with our huge backpacking packs for two kilometers in the noon-day Colombian sun along a narrow shoulder on a busy highway connecting the two biggest cities in Colombia because our bus driver was a tool.

Caving I've only been in two caves in my life. One was as a daycamp leader for the Parks Department in Roseville when I was in high school. We went to a cave somewhere in Wisconsin (I should know the name of it; I drove by the signs enough times) and I had sore arms for a week from all the kids hanging on me for fear of getting accosted by a bat. The second time was in college when a group of us drove to St. Paul to walk through one of the caves along the Mississippi River for Halloween where people jump out at you. Either way, both of those experiences were pretty tourist friendly and "safe" because there were actually walking paths and ropes to lead us along. Not here!

I need to back up a bit though...our fifteen year old tour guide was a little confused and tried to take us in the exit and decided the water was too high. The reason the "water was too high" was an issue was that in order to get to the cave, one has to swim across the river, current and all. Well, after a few hours (yes, hours) of waiting the boss came by and imparted his wisdom to the group and our guide making statements such as the subheading of "If you can't swim, you don't go; that's why it's an adventure!" Thanks for the confidence.

Eventually we all made it across the river, although me without my water shoes - they got sacrificed to the river. The entrance to the cave was about a twenty minute hike throught the forest and our guide stopped us along the way to point out trees and rocks (there were plenty of both). Then he warned us that should we encounter any ants that we need to "keep our feet moving" because they sting. At that point I remember the group collectively looking at me, the one with no shoes. As we rounded the next ridge everyone ahead of me started running. The ants apparently don't just cross the trail, they follow it! After declining Tina's offer to get a piggy back ride from her, I waited until the "shoed" group was far enough ahead for me to sprint through the forest. About fifty yards later I emerged with only two bites and a soaring adrenaline.

Finally at the cave entrance we turned on our lights and ventured inside. Remember now, there are no paths, no tow ropes. Lisa mentioned that it reminded her of "canyoning" in that we were always in water, but it was in a cave and therefore dark. After walking a few hundred feet we all became aware of one of the most awful noises I have ever heard in my life. Condors that nest on the cave were flying about overhead screaming at us. Shining your light upwards only made it worse. It was a horrible sound. Some Hollywood film crew needs to come down here and record it for their next slasher flick. It was as if they were screeching "kill! kill!" in unison.

At times the water was at our ankles and at times we were literally swimming. There were a few short "water slides" made from the centuries of water running through the cave over the marble rock within. Those were fun! The exit of the cave was a waterfall with a rope ladder attached to it. After climbing down the ladder, we traversed the river again by hanging on to a rope that stretched across it. I guess "that's why it's an adventure," huh?!?

Capsizing On the second day at the reserve we went kayaking. Now the Rio Claro, at least were we were, never really reaches any kind of difficult rapids, however, if the rating scale included a .5 Class Rapids, we went over them. Again, not difficult, but fun nonetheless! The three of us were in two kayaks, the girls in one, me in the other, and we departed with two rafts full of families. At one point the rafts got behind us a ways (that's our story anyway) and, in an attempt to let them catch up, we grabbed some low hanging tree branches. Correction: Lisa and Tina grabbed some low hanging tree branches, I grabbed their kayak. ...and then they tipped over. :)

Children The last thing a teacher wants to see on vacation is a mass of school kids. One or two with their families is fine as long as they don't bother you but a school trip is not acceptable. We were graced with the presence of two different groups, although thankfully not at the same time. The first was a group of about 20 8th grade girls. Against all odds, they were pretty good. Then came the group of about 40 ninth graders. If I had wanted to see my kids all week I would have brought them. Unfortunately they were staying right above us in a very tree house-like lodging. Fortunately Tina had no problem going up and telling them to go to bed.

Campfire The second night at the reserve we met some teachers from our school's sister school in Medellin, Columbus School. They were camping for the weekend and invited us to come to their site after dinner and enjoy the campfire and all things that go along with it. It was a surreal feeling sitting around a fire in the cool night air getting smoke blown in your face by the breeze and listening to the river rush by a few yards away. In the dark I would have thought I was back in northern Minnesota; it was a nice feeling.

Canopying For those that don't know, like my dear mother, canopying is moving through an area, usually a forest, at the level of the canopy. In essence, you're really high and, if you're on a zip-line like we were, you're going pretty fast. This particular canopy had three zip-lines, one that crossed the river and two that followed it. Great fun but it goes by really quickly.

Clear River (I know I cheated on this one too.) There is a reason it is called Rio Claro. It is clean and clear. The guides all told us we could fill our water bottles from the river. We didn't, but it's nice to know we could have.

C you next time! (Lame?)

Scandal? What's That?

This is an Associated Press article, by Frank Bajak, dated May 4th, 2008 discussing an interesting aspect of the political situation here in Colombia:

These are trying days for President Alvaro Uribe, Washington's closest ally in a region dominated by leftist leaders.

Opposition lawmakers are seeking his impeachment on charges that aides offered political favors for votes. His longtime confidante has joined dozens of allies jailed for alleged ties to illegal, drug-trafficking militias. U.S. Democrats are blocking White House attempts to approve a free-trade agreement because of his human rights record.

In most countries, a president in such a pickle would be on the ropes. Yet Uribe's approval rating — consistently above 70 percent in opinion polls — is the highest of any president in the Americas.

"It's almost as if he's a person with supernatural powers that let him do whatever he likes," said leading newspaper columnist Maria Jimena Duzan.

Uribe's closest political adviser, Jose Obdulio Gaviria, said the president's popularity is reward for his dedication and for vigorously battling crime on all fronts, bringing down murder and kidnapping rates.

"Jesus Christ was also condemned to death, and I understand that his historical popularity remains intact," Gaviria told The Associated Press.

Uribe's Teflon presidency has various explanations.

Backed by billions of dollars in U.S. military aid, Uribe has managed to knock off balance the peasant-based Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia — something no president had managed since the FARC's 1964 birth.

He also has seen success in killing or capturing drug lords, including twin brothers who the defense minister said controlled roughly half the country's armed gangs: one was slain April 29, the other arrested two days later.

Then there's Colombia's economy, which grew by 7.5 percent last year and averaged 5.5 percent growth from 2003-2007 as Uribe's vigorous privatization of state-run enterprises spurred foreign investment.

And there's Uribe's style. Colombians love his wonkish, take-charge approach. Statistics roll off his tongue through regular 18-hour work days. He drags ministers and generals to daylong communal councils in dangerous backwaters where he rolls up his sleeves and digs into details.

By far the greatest coup has been Uribe's pursuit of the FARC, most spectacularly with a March 1 cross-border raid into Ecuador that killed Raul Reyes, the rebels' foreign minister.

Contempt for the FARC is so widespread that people are willing to overlook ties between Uribe-allied politicians and right-wing death squads formed to counter the rebels.

"The promise that he's going to defeat the FARC is fundamental to his popularity," said political analyst Leon Valencia.

Crime prevention is another big selling point.

"If you are living in a city or on a main road — and that's about 80 percent of the people — you are feeling a whole lot safer," said Adam Isacson, an analyst with the liberal Washington-based Center for International Policy.

Colombia's opinion makers generally esteem Uribe. Any time he wants to sound off, he calls a radio network and talks for an hour or two. Most Colombians get their news from the radio, and supporters love his directness, even when he's confronting the latest scandal dogging his government.

He has done that a lot lately. On Tuesday, he responded quickly after 10 opposition lawmakers called for his impeachment for allegedly offering favors to then-Rep. Yidis Medina in return for reversing herself on a crucial 2004 committee vote that allowed him to run for re-election. Yidis surrendered April 27, saying she'll plead guilty to bribery and implicate the president and three close aides.

"The national government persuades. It doesn't buy consciences," Uribe told reporters Tuesday during a trip to the southwestern city of Neiva. He denied offering favors for the vote.

Another scandal assailing Uribe is over mutually beneficial relations between some of his closest political allies and the outlaw far-right paramilitaries that demobilized under a peace pact with his government.

Ten percent of Colombia's 268 federal lawmakers are jailed on charges of backing or benefiting from the groups, and another 10 percent are under investigation. On April 22 his second cousin and political confidante was jailed as well.

The scandal, compounding concerns over the killing of union activists, is complicating attempts by Uribe and his ally, President Bush, to persuade the Democratic leadership in the U.S. Congress to stop delaying a vote on a free-trade pact.

The raid that killed Reyes earned Uribe international reproach and threats of war from Ecuador and Venezuela. Uribe apologized for violating Ecuadorean sovereignty but refused to say he wouldn't do it again.

A week later, Gallup conducted a poll of 1,000 Colombians — people with telephones in the country's four biggest cities — with a margin of error of three percentage points.

Uribe's approval rating was 84 percent. It was his highest ever.

Oh, Canada!

Obviously, living in another country different from your own brings about the inevitable exposure to cultural differences. Latin American culture is very different from North American culture, as I have experienced and described in other posts. Even within Colombia there are differences in the various regions of the country. However, in some ways, I don't even need to leave school to run into myriad cultural dealings different from my own.

I remember when I moved from Minnesota to Eau Claire, Wisconsin, for college, I was surprised at how different life had been for my friends right across the border. Getting money from Tyme machine instead of the ATM and going to bars with your parents when you were under 21 was a strange new world for me. Later, moving even further into the state for my first teaching job in Manitowoc brought new "cultural" discoveries. In north eastern Wisconsin, for example, a "hot tamale," for some reason, is a sloppy joe sandwich, and the use of the non-word "yous" is common and acceptable both in spoken and written communication (as in "can yous give me a hot tamale?").

At Colegio Bolivar I am blessed to be working with a richly diverse faculty of Colombia, American, and Canadian teachers. With this cornucopia of backgrounds and experiences, it is not surprising that terminology and ideas are influenced and melded together.

I was reminded recently, after passing back an exam to my 9th graders, of how confusing these differences in terminology from the different import teachers can be for the students. Aside from saying "eh," Canadian teachers bring a different pedagogical terminology to the academic table.

For example, when I was in school, I "took" tests; my students now "take" tests. In Canada, students "write" tests. This is confusing for obvious reasons because, in my mind, I write the test and the students take them. Why would a student write a test? I suppose a Canadian could rightfully argue that it would be inappropriate for a student to take a test though. "To where are they talking it, eh?" I imagine would be legitimate question.

To further compound the student's confusion, when I "grade" an assignment or exam, a check mark or a slash through an answer usually means the response was incorrect. When a Canadian "marks" an assignment or exam, the same checkmark or slash means it is correct. Maybe that is why some students don't break down in despair when they get an exam back full of red checks; they probably think they aced it!

With there currently being 5 American teachers, 5 Canadians, and 15 Colombians in high school alone, I do not envy the confusion I'm sure many of the students face on a yearly basis learning a new language and deciphering the nuances of Canadian and American phraseology. Maybe next year the school can hire a couple Brits and an Australian so we can continue to confuse everyone.

Me Tarzan

I think that at one point or another most elementary-aged kids go through a stage in which they are interested in the rain forest. I remember my own elementary days of creating a rainforest out of the hallway by the cafeteria in art class and building dioramas for display in the library – although the intrinsic purpose of the dioramas escapes me now. Either way, to me, the rainforest was this mysterious place only truly accessible to researchers and people working for National Geographic; I probably would never go there.

This past week, however, I got the amazing experience of spending four days buried deep in the Amazon rainforest in the Heliconia Reserve about four degrees south of the equator and off an Amazon River tributary, the Yavarí River, in what is technically Brazil.

For our Semana Santa (Holy Week) or Spring Break vacation another teacher friend, Tina, and I boarded a plane in Bogotá for a two hour flight to Leticia, a small town in the southernmost tip of Colombia, where it meets with Peru and Brazil. Aside from using the river or a plane, there is no other conceivable way in or out of this region of the country; it truly is isolated in the middle of the jungle.

We were met at the airport, if you could call it that, by a lady from the reserve who took us to the docks of Leticia where we climbed aboard a small fiberglass motorboat driven by a curly-haired, raspy voiced man named Israel with questionable dental hygiene. Israel handed us a sandwich and juice and informed us we would be sitting for the next three hours as we made our way to the reserve. Along the way, he pointed out various settlements along the river and birds and the like, but with the motor, his heavily accented Spanish, and the fact that he sounded like that lady in the anti-smoking ad that takes a puff through the whole in her neck, we usually didn’t understand and thus just smiled and nodded politely.

This being the rainy season (although I have to believe that there is still a consistent amount the rest of the year in order to maintain the moniker of “rain” forest one assumes a certain amount of constant precipitation) the water level was at the cresting point and all of the shoreline was hidden and most of the trees seemed to grow out of the river itself. Upon arriving at the reserve the staff greeted us warmly and served a wonderful fish dinner. Oddly enough, we were the only two guests present that first night so we were able to hang out in the lodge and converse with Israel, the wonder kitchen mother, and several of the guides. It was a great way to practice our Spanish. They decided to name me Tarzan because they could say that so I was “Tarzan” the rest of the week.

Our cabana consisted of beams and screens with beds enclosed in mosquito netting. There was a toilet “room” and a shower “room.” I say “room” because the outside wall was non-existent and as you did your business, you looked out at the marvel that was the jungle. It reminded me of the forest wallpaper my parents have behind the entertainment center in the basement except it moved.

After bidding everyone a buena noche we made out way to said cabana only to discover a (large - to us) medium-sized tarantula on top of my mosquito netting. After calling for help and not getting any response, we haphazardly attempted to smash it with a pair of shoes only to have it retreat into a crack in the wall. We conceded defeat and, only after pulling my bed away from the walls, secured our mosquito nets and drifted off to sleep. I’m sorry – that’s a lie. Have you ever been tempted to buy one of those “Ocean Sounds” or “Jungle Sounds” CDs to help you sleep? I haven’t and I am now certain I never will. Not really a settling noise when you know the rattling trees or chirps or screeches are real and potentially meters from your head. I’ll take passing traffic any day.

The next few days our personal guide, Jimmie, took us on nature hikes, canoe outings, fishing, and swimming. On our hikes we saw termite mounds, more tarantulas (bigger ones), frogs, parrots, monkeys, eagles, and a dead anaconda complete with circling vultures. He also showed us how the rubber (caucho) is harvested from the rubber trees the way the indigenous tribes did it so that the trees did not die. He also showed us trees with medicinal value including one to prevent constipation (that was a fun game of charades) and itching from bug bites. SAVE THE RAINFOREST PEOPLE! THERE'S GOOD STUFF IN THERE!!!

On the river we canoed, saw freshwater pink river dolphins, and went for a quick swim. Jimmie told us the middle of the river was fine and that all the snakes, crocodiles, piranhas, and electric eels were over near the trees. He also jumped in first. We went fishing for piranhas and, although both Tina and I got nibbles, Jimmie was the only successful fisherman. He caught two fish, one being a piranha and both being small. He then took a small leaf and said, “Este es su dedo (This is your finger)” and stuck the thing into the piranha’s mouth where it promptly made hole puncher-worthy bite cuts out of the leaf’s margins. Crazy stuff. I’m glad it wasn’t my dedo.

My two favorite things we did was a night outing in which we floated peacefully in the canoe and Jimmie told us the indigenous people’s legend of the pink dolphin. This was fun mostly because we had to work together to translate it and because it was a good story. Well, based on how we translated it, it was. The other was a night outing in the boat were we went looking for caiman crocodiles. Apparently caimans in the Amazon and deer in North America have the same paralytic habit of doing nothing when a bright light is shown in their eyes. All you need to catch a caiman is a flashlight and a quick hand. Jimmie caught a small one (about a foot long) and attempted two others. (One of the others was about three feet long and he wisely retracted his reach and the other just got away.)

The second night Tina was alone in the cabana before dinner and a large gecko lost it’s grip and fell (or jumped, depending on who’s story you are hearing) on her arm. She flipped out, screamed, and the gecko lost its tail as geckos often do when frightened so at least they are even. Either way, the entire staff and a few of the newly arrived guests all went running to “save her.” It was pretty funny and we all laughed about it later. That and when Tina took a swing of the homemade bug repellent we made in an old water bottle. This actually happened while we were asked to help translate (!) for a couple from Germany who spoke good English but not much beyond “hola.” Needless to say, it was an interesting impression of us they will take back to Germany.

After four days in the jungle, we said our goodbyes and Israel took us on another three hour boat ride. We stopped briefly to get gas on this island village, Santa Rita, which turned out to be part of Peru, so Tina and I went for a short walk. I’m not sure it this truly counts as visiting another country but it’s a start.

We found a hotel in Leticia, showered up (without having to immediately apply bug juice and feel instantly dirty again), and headed for Brazil. Normally Americans have to pay a hefty visa fee to travel in Brazil (apparently America charges Brazilians a ton to travel in the States so it is reciprocated) but since the town essentially connected to Leticia, Tabatinga, is in the same isolated situation that Leticia is in, they turn a blind eye. It’s not likely we would turn up in Rio de Janeiro in a few days. During the walk we discussed what one has to do to claim they “visited a country.” We came to the decision that money needs to be exchanged so we proceeded to have lunch. We also got Brazilian change so that has to count. Then, on our way out of town back to good ole Colombia, we bought flip-flops with little Brazilian flags on them. Tell me that that is not “visiting a country!”

Leticia turned out to be a really pleasant and very safe town – actually one of the safest feeling I have visited in Colombia. This may have something to do with the need for tourism…and the easily 2,000 troops stationed throughout the town. You couldn’t turn your head without seeing at least one soldier. One of the unique sights in Leticia is the Parque Santander where each night at around dusk thousands of parrots roost for the night in the trees. The guidebook says they arrive “screeching” but to hear it does not do the book’s description justice. It is almost deafening. You go from thinking, “Oh look at all the little green parrots landing in the trees” to “Seriously! Shut up!”

Friday morning I woke up to find a bakery for breakfast and accidentally joined a Good Friday processional though out the streets of Leticia. The church (I say “the” since there is probably only one) set up the Catholic 12 Stations of the Cross at various places along the processional route and as “Jesus” and the congregation/city of Leticia walked behind, a truck drove along slowly playing Hymns and the priest narrated the story. It was fun since I had a basic frame of reference I was able to understand a good 80% of what he was saying.

Not bad for Tarzan, eh? Also, not bad for a kid who thought the closest he’d get to the rainforest would be the wall outside his elementary school cafeteria.

I Start Walkin' Your Way...

Saying it has been a wild news week in Colombia would be an understatement. Saying that things have actually been wild in Colombia would be quite the opposite. Despite the shocking headlines of Colombia being “on the brink of war” and statements about “sabers” and the like, life in Colombia this past week was essentially the same as it has always been.

I did find it interesting to read the headlines each day on Yahoo! News or CNN.com and find out what had happened politically and how it was being sold to readers. Granted, if this had been a year ago and I was reading such headlines about my future home I would have been concerned. Being in the midst of it, however, was a whole other story; mainly that there wasn’t much in that midst.

A little background to put this into perspective: The FARC have been terrorizing many in Colombia for decades. They are one of the biggest para-military groups in the region and are very leftist and get their money through the cocaine trade and ransom from kidnappings. The current president, Alvaro Uribe, has made significant strides to limit the FARC and their activities.

The problem is that other countries in the region, namely Venezuela and Ecuador, have not. This could be due to the fact that the people of these countries were not, until recently affected by their activities, or that the leaders may or may not have been getting monetary kick-backs.

When Colombia stormed a mile or so across the Colombia-Ecuador border to attack a FARC camp in the jungle, and incidentally killing one the top FARC leaders, this upset a lot of people. The only ones who should have realistically been upset would have been Ecuador, whose border was crossed without permission. Venezuela, or more accurately, Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez, lead the charge and made a big stink, often times speaking for the Ecuadorian president. (To make a point, I can’t even tell you without looking it up what the Ecuadorian president’s name is since he had such little voice in all this with Chavez shooting his mouth off all over the place. The Ecuadorian president's name is Correa - but I did have to look it up.)

Uribe issued an apology saying something along the lines of “we will not invade another country without permission again…so long as they are not harboring terrorists at their borders.” I love the added clause which, in my opinion, is completely justifiable.

In the mean time two things are happening. First is that the contents of a laptop found at this FARC camp is being analyzed and accusations are flying all over about all kinds of people and connections, namely that Chavez was funding the FARC. Ah! No wonder he is getting all hot and bothered over this. The second thing that is going on is the Chavez keeps running is mouth and orders troops to the border. He eventually closed the border for a few days.

The thing about this border, and why it sounds worse in the media than it really is, is that there is nothing there, really. Now, I have never been to this area of the country myself, and I probably never will, but I have not found one person who has either. If you look at a political map of Colombia, you will see that most of the population resides in cities or towns along the Andean Mountain range, mostly running north and south along the western half of the country. A whole bunch of Colombia is unpopulated. This includes a lot of the Venezuelan border. (This is also true on the other side in Venezuela!) In all seriousness, Chavez could have secretly had his troops cross the border and not man people would have known about it – since no one lives there!

So, really, it was a very safe threat to make. It sounded really intense and volatile to the international community and media, who are used to having people living near borders, and yet those in the involved countries collectively shrugged.

Well, the politicians didn’t shrug, just the rest of us. (Except for Ecuador’s nameless president who didn’t get many sound bytes out of a situation involving his country. He probably shrugged a little.) There was some head shaking too over Chavez. Every taxi driver I talked to, out of curiosity over their opinion mostly, told me they think he is certifiably nuts. This is true of the common people in Venezuela as well, where Chavez has cut off trade and thus dairy and meat products to his own people. His approval rating is dangerously low – as in overthrow low.

(Another reason Chavez may be having a bad taste in his mouth, so to speak against Colombia, many feel is out of jealousy. Colombia is U.S. backed AND has a lot of the rest of the world more willing to associate with them than Chavez or Ecuador. Some countries, Cuba and Castro most recently, like to throw the old "America trying to run the world" card around. However, in this situation it is important to remember that the U.S. does have a say because they fund a big part of the Colombian military and have since about 2000 because of the increased effect the narco-trafficking was having on the U.S., on U.S. soil. This does concern them.)

Well, this past weekend, all these fine leaders met in the Dominican Republic and signed a peace statement agreeing to play nice. Uribe also extended his apology again, reiterating his initial clause.

In unrelated but ironic news, with the “threat of war” gone, the good people of Cali decided to riot at a soccer game between the cities two major teams and major rivals. (Think Green Bay Packers and Minnesota Vikings x 10 and then remember that it is soccer and we are in a Latin American country.) The riot resulted in two dead and a bunch more injured including a stabbed pregnant lady.

But at least we aren’t at war, right?

One Ride Around the Sun

I’ve been getting several requests for updates and concerns that something has happened and I no longer have the means/desire to write blogs. Worry not – I’m fine and still living it up Caleño-style; I just haven’t had any adventures up to par with some of the previous postings.

Regardless, for those of you inquisitive enough or interested in bit of vicarious living, I will give you a little day to day update:

Right now I’m reclined in my hammock five floors up from street level with my computer n my lap. (My keyboarding teacher from elementary school would not approve.) It is only about 8pm right now but it has been dark for about two hours already. Such is life so close to the equator; 12 hours of daylight and 12 hours of starry skies become the norm. It is actually surprisingly quiet tonight. A motorbike just tore down the street but other than that I can hear a baby crying somewhere semi-close and the lights of the barrios on the mountainside are twinkling away. It is hazy at the top of the mountains so I can’t make out the tops but I can see some stars directly overhead. Perhaps it is some more rain clouds rolling in; this is a theme recently as the region’s second rainy season allegedly began about a week ago. From what I’ve seen thus far, this season is living up to it’s name much more than the previous one in November/December. Seriously though, two?!? C’mon.

I spend many of my evenings and weekends reclined in this manner here on my balcony, reading, napping, writing, grading papers, daydreaming, thinking about going for a run, napping again. It’s a good place to be.

Most weekends I enjoy some time to sleep in. When the teacher bus comes at barely daybreak each morning, sometimes 7am is sleeping in, but I usually abuse the term and roll out around 10am. I then convince my lazy ass to do something so I put on my Speedo and some running shorts, shirt, wrap my goggles around my wrist, stuff a swim cap and granola bar down my shorts somewhere (don’t judge) and head off for a three mile run to school. I usually attempt a breathless conversation with the guard at the gate. I, thankfully, no longer have to introduce myself as a teacher anymore, although I’m sure they have other names for me. I like to think of them calling me “that little pink boy on a suicide mission” but they just say “Hola, Profi.” I’ll swim for a ½ hour or 1500-2000m and then run back. I take my time and enjoy the pain so it tends to be a two-hour round trip. (The granola bar gets eaten pre-swim, in case you were wondering.)

This could happen both Saturday and Sunday or just one of the two. Occasionally I just run and skip the swim; God knows I’ve logged enough miles in the water for a lifetime. Another teacher friend who I run with most days after school, Sarah, has joined a running club that begins and ends their runs in a park near my house. She has tried to convince me to join them on several weekend runs but I just can’t seem to do it. It’s not for not trying either; I’ve set my alarm to meet them at 6am at least three different times. After years of forcing myself out of my warm bed to hurl my unwilling body into icy pools for morning swim practices, I just can’t bring myself to do it! Especially not when it is purely recreational…and I know I’ll go later.

Recently, I have begun a new Sunday tradition that I like to consider “Me Time”. After a possible late morning workout, I walk to the nearby mall, head to the movie theatre, buy a ticket for a show most of you would probably remember seeing on a marquee months ago for later in the day, head to the book store that sells overpriced American magazines, then make for the food court for some Chinese and a “good” read. Finally, when the time is right, I go back to the movie to laugh alone in the darkness because something didn’t translate, or at least laugh early. Then some quick grocery shopping for the next school week; I can’t forget the mangos and avena (oat-milk drink)! It makes for a nice Sunday afternoon.

School has been going well. My 9th grade biology classes are well into our genetics unit. Surprisingly, I think, they have not had any genetics before my class so I had to start at square one with them, which was new for me but also good because I got to see some of the misconceptions develop that usually happen before the students get to me. I brought my Marriage Lab (“Dropping Your Genes”) here and decided to put it into play with the Bolivar kids. My students back in Manitowoc always seemed to have fun with it, and I usually do too.
(For those of you out of this loop, I set the room up like a chapel with a center aisle and a podium and some gaudy weddingish decorations. They kids come in not knowing this is happening then I call them up two by two to meet their “mate.” Prior to this they have researched and interviewed family members about certain traits on their paternal and maternal sides as well as inventoried their own so they are aware of their own genotypes. After the cheesed up ceremony they go off with their “spouse” to make some babies by cutting out chromosomes, folding them in half so that only one allele is showing on each side, and then literally dropping them and pairing like traits up to determine the childrens’ traits. While they are working I set up a “reception” with cake and ice cream.)
Anyways, I was concerned that given the social nature of Colombians, and some of my classes’ track records, it would be more work than fun. Fortunately, they rose to the occasion and we all had a lot of fun with it. Some classes even “helped” with the pairings of kids in the later classes…just like in Manitowoc. More proof that 9th graders are 9th graders wherever you go: horned up and awkward.

Quote of the day came from a student who apparently had a very strong impact on the appearance of his progeny. He yells, “Meester! Look! I have very powerful semen!” This is my life.

Side note, a car just cruised by below blasting “What Is Love?” from that obnoxious SNL skit. I wonder if it was in Spanish…

Not really sure what else to update everyone on! Lists are fun so here is my own personal right-now-favorite-things list:
-I was recently introduced to an Australian singer named Missy Higgins (thanks, Sarah Lou) and am quickly becoming obsessed. Current favorites are “Sugarcane,” “100 Round The Bend,” “The Special Two,” and “Don’t Ever”…to name a few.
-Currently reading A Mighty Heart by Mariane Pearl about the 2001 kidnapping of her husband Daniel Pearl, the Wall Street Journal reporter, in Pakistan. Beautifully written and my “bus book” which makes me unhealthily excited to ride the bus each day.
-My hammock.
-Watching the newborn chicks of these two ugly squawking birds on my running path each day. Unfortunately they too will be ugly and squawking too. Perhaps why mom and dad are so crabby.
-The fact that I can still watch American Idol here…although it is a few days later and on my computer. It’s not like I voted anyways…not since Christina Christian unceremoniously broke my heart in Season 1.
-Fresh fruit.
-My porteros (doormen). They are probably about my age but they always ask me questions and humor me when I try and answer. They're good guys and they keep the bad people out.
-Starting my mornings at my computer eating a banana and avena reading “nothing” emails from friends telling me there was a snow day, almost vomiting on the NYC subway, or the “trials” of working from home.
-Running through the small sidewalk flower market on the weekends, briefly saving my nose from being assailed by the exhaust of the Pasoancho Avenue.
-The TV shows “Corner Gas” and “Pushing Daisies.” (I believe they are both Canadian but the later may be on cable?)
-Why not…you can never have too much music: the songs “Death By Chocolate” and “Academia” by Sia

Okay - enough self-reflecting for now. As you can see, life is good! This weekend is the school-wide Bolivar Day Festival and then in two weeks Semana Santa (a.k.a. Spring Break!). An adventure is in the works…

Marcha de la Paz

Today is an important day for Colombians. Today is the day that the people of this country have decided to stand as one and march for peace. Today is the day this nation hopes to bring international attention to the injustices put against its people by certain para-military groups. Today is the day they stand as one.

As I'm sure many of you have heard, even in the often Ameri-centric news media, several kidnapped victims have been released by Colombian rebels and leftist activists. Many more, however, remain captive and many people here are still paying off ransoms for their freedoms and to prevent further kidnappings.

The main, but not only, group that is being targeted with these injustices is the FARC (translated, it stands for the "Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia"). This is not your typical guerilla group, however. They do not generally commit random acts of violence; everything they do is planned and with a purpose. Those who are kidnapped usually have money and/or are in positions of power. Many of the families of the students at my school fall into this category. Several have been or have family members who have been kidnapped in the past and held until a hefty ransom was paid. (Do not worry about me - the FARC know I am not someone they could extort money for.)

This is the reason for today. Today, Colombians from all over the country and allegedly other nations as well, are holding Peace Marches against organizations like the FARC. Thousands of people are expected to take to the streets today in Cali and other cities across Colombia in a non-violent march for peace.

Apparently Colombia is not typically one of those nations that protests regularly so this is seen as a big deal. School is very much a ghost town today. The primary sections are in full swing but the numbers dwindle significantly as you reach the higher grades. There are only 16 9th graders here today out of about 75. The entire high school only has 30 students present.

Walking around this weekend I saw many of the traffic light vendors selling Marcha de la Paz t-shirts and those flags you stick out your car window instead of their usual fare of pirated DVD's, cell phone chargers, and mango slices. All of Cali, rich and poor, seemed to be gearing up for this one event. It is going on as I type this and I pray it goes well and everyone remembers this is a march for peace.

It will be interesting to see what happens. As the banners and t-shirts declare:

NO MAS!
NO MAS SECUESTROS!
NO MAS MENTIRAS!
NO MAS MUERTES!
NO MAS FARC!

NO MORE!
NO MORE KIDNAPPING!
NO MORE LIES!
NO MORE MURDER!
NO MORE FARC!

Rhythm Of The Night

On Saturday, in honor of nothing in particular, my roommate and I hosted a party at our apartment. We invited people from school and just let word of mouth do the work for us.
At about 8:30 pm our first guests began arriving and by 10 pm there were a whole lot of gringos and two Colombians (who came with gringos) and no one else. Finally at 11:30 pm the party started. This was mostly due to the arrival of the ones who clearly know how to party, the Colombians. The salsa got cranked up and suddenly we had a real party.
I spent most of the night out on the balcony, allowing people to circulate to me. Sometimes that is more fun than making ones way through a party. I figured my roommate had that covered. The great part was that while I was sitting there, enjoying the night air and watching the salsa get hot inside, I got to practice my Spanish (and occasional Spanglish) with some new Colombian friends. It was nice to be told that I was speaking really well for only having been here six months. A lot of them knew some English too so between our limited language skills we were able to talk about a surprising amount of topics.
I also, again, got sucked in to the inevitable downfall of any conversation with a Colombain at a party in Colombia – aguardiente. This aperitif might as well be known as the “friendship shot” since it is very customary to be offered one after a conversation of any length; the longer the conversation, however, the more shots. This drink, which smells like licorice and has an after taste like acidic candy, is cheap and traditional here, at a around $2 to $4 a bottle.
Despite, increasing my likelihood of a guaranteed hang-over the next day, I felt fine. I slept most of the morning and afternoon, as the party roared on until about 4:30 am. Once again, the Colombians showed us how a fiesta should go down!