Voting Rules (Part II)

Today marks a very important day for Colombians; this will be the first time in eight years that they will elect a new president. In the country's bumpy and politically challenged history, only recently have people had the opportunity to be politically active without fear of retribution, or worse. If a candidate gets over fifty percent of the popular vote, the race will be over. Historically this has not happened and subsequent elections are held, knocking out the lower vote-getters each time, until a majority is achieved. This also means the potential for several future "dry weekends" in the coming weeks, as is one of the voting traditions here.

As it stands, the election has become a two-candidate race with two others in contention but not threateningly so. Juan Manuel Santos, a member of the "U" party and self-proclaimed ally of current two-term president Álvaro Uribe, and ex-Bogotá mayor, Antanas Mockus of the "Green Party," are leading in the campaigns. (It should be noted that Mockus's "Green Party" is in no way similar to the "Green Party" of U.S. elections.) The other two candidates that have fallen and risen in popularity, respectively, are Noemi Sanin, the only woman in the race and another self-proclaimed Uribe ally, and ex-Senator Gustavo Petro.

It is amazing to me the knowledge of those too young to vote but the empowerment many of them feel irregardless of this fact. Many times it is easy to dismiss the political views and opinions of students as simply being the rehashings of what they hear at home. Refreshingly, many of my students, can not only give an informed opinion about the candidates but also the entire political process. I know that I didn't have that kind of understanding when I was in ninth grade, let alone an interest.


At school and on the streets, it is not uncommon to see not only signs and flyers but bumper stickers and t-shirts, campaign propaganda techniques that are par for the course in the U.S. but unseen in Colombia before this race. The most frequent are the green shirts sported by Mockus supporters (pictured above at a rally in Cali last weekend*) although the orange and white of Santos and vintage-style yellow and black of Petro are also not unpopular.

Its fascinating to be living in a country undergoing such a potentially huge political change and be able to watch it without having to form an opinion. As an ex-patriot who has only just begun to scratch the surface of the complex history of the country, I do not feel as though I deserve to have one, which makes being a spectator to the whole process that much more engrossing. Whoever emerges victorious, one this is clear - the Colombian people are the true winners for finally finding their voice and being able to participate safely in true democracy.

*Photograph by (and jacked from) K. Radermacher

A-Buga-Boo!

Being that time of year, crescendoing toward the final days of school, sometimes it feels like a miracle that I make it to the end of the week without maiming someone. It was appropriate then that last weekend my friends Beatriz, Hana, and I took a short day-trip to the small town of Buga (say: boo-gah), about an hour north of Cali, to visit the Basilica del Señor de los Milagros, a church credited with granting miracles to many who have visited.

The entire city of Guadalajara de Buga, as it is offically known, seems to be build with the "Miracle Church" as it's crown jewel. If one is approaching the basilica from the front, it is possible to have an unobstructed view of it for about the preceding seven blocks as a buildingless bricked promenade leads worpshippers toward the towering building.

Basilica del Señor de los Milagros

As a municipality, Buga is one of Colombia's oldest cities, founded in the mid-1500's. Part of this reason is tied directly to the church and its miracle-giving properties. According to the story, when missionaries from Spain came to the area they attempted to convert the local indigenous populations. One indian woman was saving her money to be able to buy a small crucifix for herself. One day she saw some conquistadors taking a man away to jail for his outstanding debts which he couldn't pay due to his poor econimic standing and his large family, who needed food. The indian woman payed the man's debts which her crucifix-savings. Later, while she was washing clothes at the river, a small crucifix came floating by. She took the tiny cross home and, according to legend, it grew bigger and bigger each day. The cross now hangs in the church crypt behind the altar in a glass case where visitors can view it during church hours.

Although we did not see anyone, it is customary to revisit the church, as a show a gratitude, should your miracle be granted. People blessed with miracles walk on their knees into the church; some, presumabley, from several blocks away. Maybe I can swing a return visit if June 18th arrives and no one - students or teacher -have been hospitalized. That might be a miracle.

Stayin' Alive!

From the Beatles' last group hit, "Let It Be," in 1970 to Madonna's "Like A Prayer" in 1989, the twenty encompassing years were a unique time for music in North America. The years that gave the world funk and disco came alive again this weekend on the Colegio Bolívar stage in the form of a 70's & 80's themed talent show complete with live student rock band, full choir, alumni guest appearances, and dance numbers - including "Stayin' Alive" and "Maniac" from Flashdance.

I lent my voice to the male section of the choir on Queen's rousing, "Somebody To Love", who was backing an alumni guest performer with applaudable chops. I also made a choir appearance in "Like A Prayer" and the famous collaboration "We Are The World", as well as dabbling in some supportive percussion work during Bonnie Tyler's overly dramatic "Total Eclipse of the Heart."

Other songs that were brought back to life were "Top of the World", by the Carpenters; "The Boxer", by Simon & Garfunkel; a Jackson 5 medley; "Don't Stop Believin'", by my person favorite, Journey; "Alone", by Heart; and the duet "Don't Go Breaking My Heart" by Elton John and Kee Kee Dee. Two of the more surprising songs on the set list were Little Eva's "The Locomotion" (originally from 1962) which evidently made it to the top of the charts again in 1974 in the hands of Grand Funk Railroad and Frank Sinatra's recording of "New York, New York" which, believe it or not, he recorded in 1980. (It wasn't even written until 1977!)

"Stayin' Alive" (The Bee Gees)

"The Wall" (Pink Floyd)

"Maniac" (from the film Flashdance)

Saying goodbye to the Seniors...

Drip Drip Drop

Most athletes know that the reason a marathon is called a "marathon" is because the Greek messenger Pheidippides, ran from the Battle of Marathon to Athens, a distance of 42.2 kilometers (26.4 miles). In a similar spirit, Sunday there was a race in Cali, organized by one of the local universities, Universidad ICESI, to raise awareness of water care and usage. The race, called Nuestra Carrera Es Por El Agua (Our Race Is For The Water), was 6 kilometers in length, which is, evidently, the average distance most people in impoverished areas of the world must go to get clean and safe drinking water. There were similar races run in a multitude of countries around the world on this day in a show of unity.

The fact that we are in the midst of one of two rainy seasons here didn't seem to poke its ironic head out on race morning and we were greeted with pleasant sunny weather. The course was through the picturesque Ecoparque Rio Pance (a nature reserve along the Pance River just outside the city) and more resembled a trail-run than anything else. The beginning was rough with all the runners trying to squeeze onto the narrow and muddy tree-lined path, but once everyone found their pace, things spread out. As the course wound its way though the trees and along the river, up and down hills, I just tried to not trip on a root or slip on one of the wet foot-sized leaves carpeting the way; for me, not biffing it and face-planting in the mud was going to be the victory!

I finished in around 22 minutes and 40 seconds and was informed soon after crossing the finish line that I was "el primer niño" to arrive. I told the man who celebrated this fact with me that I was 28, and therefore not a "niño," to which he tried to recover by telling me I was "the second non-Colombian" to finish. This only only made me think, "Wait! Who was the first?!?!"

I ran the race with my usual race partner and colleague, Adriana, as well as a few other teachers who were up for a good cause and a shorter distance. Four students also took part; hopefully Adriana and I can recruit them to do more races with us and increase the youth interest in a near-non-existent sport here in Colombia.

A Pastuso Walks Into A Bar...

Brunettes make fun of blondes. Us northerners have jokes about the southern rednecks and they have their "yankee" ones in return. Minnesotans have the 'Sconies to laugh at. And everyone makes cracks about Canadians. It almost seems to be part of human nature to assign one group of people as the delegated "butt" of jokes. Well, Colombia is no different and here they have the Pastusos to thank for that.

The southwestern most part of Colombia, mainly the department of Nariño, includes the mountainous region bordering Ecuador as well as a small part of the tropical Pacific coast. Due to its proximity to Ecuador and the terrain of this part of the Andes, the region is culturally different than much of the rest of the nation. Winter coats, wraps, and scarves are worn by anyone in the streets. Cuy (guinea pig), a common food staple in Ecuador and Perú, is is sold in many restaurants and street cafés. And the selection of hot drinks is plentiful, as is mora juice - a blackberry relative.

My high school friend, Chris, who I traveled with to Machu Picchu and Lake Titicaca in Perú over Christmas vacation, is currently on a two month trek through the continent and was conveniently passing into Colombia at about the time my Spring Break/Semana Santa vacation was beginning. I met Chris in the border town of Ipiales, where money changers were commonplace around the main plaza exchanging U.S. dollars (the currency of Ecuador) for Colombian pesos.

Sanctuario de las Lajas

There isn't much to do or see in Ipiales save for the majestic and architecturally out of place Sanctuario de las Lajas, a massive church that spans a picturesque mountain gorge. Originally built has an homage to the Virgin Mary after a peasant girl saw her imagine on a rock in the gorge in the mid-1700's, the worship structure has morphed and grown many times in the last 200 years to the point it is at today.

During the guided tour of the church crypt and museum, our guide, while knowledgeable, did not do her fellow countrymen's dim-witted reputation any favors. For several rounds of questioning, she insisted that a black and white photograph depicting a little campesino girl in her mother's arms, pointing at a picture of Mary and two saints drawn on a rock, was "an actual photograph of the girl" who saw the imagine. Until it was pointed out to her that the camera wasn't invented until at least 50 years later - and I'm pretty sure there wasn't one in rural southern Colombia, nor was it of this kid of photographic quality - she continued insisting on the pictures authenticity. She also disappointed and confused us in her spacial awareness as to what part of the church's lower levels we were in. After going down two and then three flights of stairs, she insisted continuously that we were still in the first level below the church despite that fact that the windows were much different on each level.

So, what do you call a Pastuso tour guide who...oh, you've probably heard this one before. Never mind!

Our next stop in Nariño was the larger city of Pasto. For being isolated, mountainous, and not very large compared to Colombia's other metropolis's, Pasto was quite cosmopolitan in its cultural atmosphere. There were many beautiful churches and plazas to visit as well as an abundance of cozy cafes filled with well-dressed and trendy locals. It was the perfect marriage of small town quaint and big city bustle.

Laguna de la Cocha

Just outside of the city of Pasto is Colombia's largest and highest lake, Laguna de la Cocha. After spending time in Perú's Lake Titicaca, Chris and I joked that we should visit all of the highest lakes in South America. We stayed at a Swiss lodge founded and run by a couple from Switzerland. It felt like a ski resort without the snow; there was a lot of wood in the building, hot drinks served all day long in the restaurant, and bags filled with boiling water put under your bed at night. From the top of a nearby hill we got a scenic view of the northern part of the lake as well as the sole island, home to a nature reserve for the trees and birds of the area.

After a relaxing and chilled couple of days in the mountains, we headed to the airport to fly back to the tropical warmth of Cali. I mention the airport because it is located on the top of a flattened peak. Flights literally take off by running out of runway and the airport shuts down when there are clouds. We were fortunate enough to have a sunny day and clear skies for our return trip to the land of salsa dancing and no coats.

"Hey, Johnson!"

I love my one 11th grade Pre AP Biology class. I had these twenty incredible people two years ago as Freshmen, my first year in Colombia. It was a wonderful feeling to be able to start school this year and not have to go through the usual familiarization process; they knew me and I knew them. This period is often my saving grace from the occasional inanity of 14 and 15 year olds as well as an intellectual challenge for me and them. It is a largely a project based course and, for the most part, being over-stressed Juniors, they handle work time pretty well. And even when they're not, I can't deny their creativity and love of life.




These pictures are not mine; I jacked them from a blooming photographer in my class. This is my life.

Voting Rules (Part I)

It's the first of several election weekends here in Colombia which means that Cali turns into a very different place for two days. Beginning at 6pm on Friday, for example, the sale of alcohol is prohibited, thus turning the entire country dry. I don't recall "inebriated voting" being an issue in the States, but perhaps, it wouldn't hurt things! There are also several other rules in effect such as the weekend law that does not allow two people to ride on a motorcycle together, unless it is a man and woman. This is due to assassination attempts where one man drives and the other shoots; women, evidently, are not seen seen as potential assassins.

Compared to the US, election season is not nearly as obnoxious in Colombia. There are not a myriad non-stop bombardment of campaign ads on television, one after another for six months or more leading up to election day. I have received only one campaign flier under my door, despite the multitude of candidates running for several offices. Most of the propaganda seems to be relegated to banners stretched across the major thoroughfares, billboards, posters around telephone poles, and the occasional internet pop-up ad. Of these, the only information seems to be the candidate's name, picture, party, and possibly an innocuous slogan like "Por un pais justo" (For a just country) or "Todos al frente con el Presidente" (All in front with the President); public political mudslinging is either veiled or non-existent.

This weekend is the Congressional elections and preliminaries for several other races, including the parties running for President. Two-term current President, Álvaro Uribe, was denied a constitutional referendum for a third term at the end of February. The first official round of Presidential voting will be in May. The way it was explained to me by Colombian colleagues at school was that there will be subsequent elections every two weeks after that until a candidate receives at least fifty percent of the vote. That could potentially mean a lot of weekends where the bars and clubs are dark and people are stocking up on cervezas, ron, and aguardiente!

Birds & Bees...and Testis (Part II)

My own high school biology teacher never called evaluations at the end of a unit "tests" or "exams;" they were "learning experiences." I never really felt like I was the one learning anything during the exam and this euphemism just irritated me more than anything else. I know now that he was referring to himself and the subsequent grading of these tests.

Well, I might have been a little premature by posting the "best" quotes of this most awkward part of the curriculum before administering the Cell Division/Reproduction unit exam. There were some gems buried in the scribbles and semblances of answers and I can definitely say it was a "learning experience" for me.

This one was my favorite:

"...the sperms job is to pass through the treacherous vagina to fertilize the egg." (This in response to a question about the path the sperm takes from formation to fertilization. I take no responsibility for the inclusion of the hyperbolic adjective.)

Both of the following were parts of answers responding to the question about the many physiological obstacles a sperm cell encounters that prevent it from reaching and fertilizing an egg:

"Sperms may not have been pulled from the penis with enough velocity." (This is no doubt caused by the suction from that 'treacherous' vagina.)

"When sperm is ejaculated, some don't even touch the woman. They fall on the floor." (Um, no. My jaw, however, is on the floor.)

Definitely a "learning experience," wouldn't you say?

The Greatest Show On Earth?

Riding the bus to school last a couple weeks ago, I noticed several giant pink semi trucks parked in a large vacant lot on a busy street that serves as a kind of main artery for the south of the city. The next day a large frame-like scaffold had been erected in the middle of the grass and dirt. It was then that I became curious; were they building a drive in movie theatre? My first attempt to read the sides of the trucks as we sped past was unsuccessful and I only got the word "Ruso" (Russian) because it was by far the biggest.


The next day I recruited help from others on the bus to decipher the script. By this point there were more trucks, more scaffolding and what appeared to be entrance gates. As people peered out the bus windows into the already dusty Cali morning air, the other worlds fell into place one by one - "Ballet!" "Hielo!" "Circo!" "Sobre Hielo!" Adding "Russian" back into the mix, we figured out that this organization of pink trucks and tarps was the "Circo Ballet Ruso sobre Hielo" (Russian Circus Ballet on Ice). What?!?!

Last weekend I went with a couple friends, partly out of curiosity and some burning questions that resurfaced every morning on the bus and partly because it sounds too strange to pass up, to investigate. Is it really "Russian?" What are they doing in Cali, Colombia? In a lot across the street from a supermarket? There can't be ice in that big top, can there?

The Russians and the ice rink...what a circus!

Upon entering the Pepto-Bismal colored big top, there was, in the center of the floor, no more than 20 meters in diameter, an ice rink. On the far end leading away from the main circle of ice to the backstage area was another strip of ice. Cooled presumably from underneath, the ice was frozen but struggling to stay that way. I had brought a sweater just in case the climate was like a hockey arena but I didn't need it. I actually was quite warm throughout the two hour show. As was the ice - it had a light film of water on its surface the entire time that occasionally splashed up when the skaters stopped abruptly or slid on the ground.

Tarzan and Jane "swing" above the ice.

As the lights went down and then up again to show the newly emerged performers, it became clear that this was indeed a "Russian Circus." Decked out in Vegas variety show costumes and cheesy choreography, the company spun and twirled its way through interpretations of "The Little Mermaid" and "Tarzan," the later with a man skating and swinging above the ice stage in only a loin cloth and the requisite skates. There was a "circus" aspect of the show too; several clowning skits took place, mostly as a way to fling water around in an effort to patch up the ice, as well as some stunts involving rings and some juggling all while on skates.

While I'm not about to pass judgment on the skills of any of the performers - anyone who can skate backwards is amazing in my book - I couldn't help thinking these were the figure skating rejects of Russia. You know those stories of training camps that young kids get sent to as children in Russia, China, and some other soviet nations? Well, what happens to the ones that just "aren't Olympic material?" Perhaps they tour South America in a big pink tent?

The only frustrating thing - and I've experienced this before - is that, in Colombia, people don't seem to know when to clap. Many a time it felt as though we were leading the applause. I'm sorry, but when a girl is skating around a tiny rink while spinning twelve hoola-hoops around various parts of her body, that deserves some clapping!

The concept was bizarre, the soundtrack cheesy, and the costumes ridiculous, but it was definitely worth attending. So, when the Russian Circus Ballet shows up in your hometown and sets up their tiny ice rink in a vacant lot, take some time out of your busy schedule to pay them a visit.

Birds & Bees...and Testis (Part I)

As a biology teacher I get the joy of teaching human anatomy. More specifically, I get to experience what most never have - a two-week long blush from covering the ins and outs (pun intended) of "reproduction." This starts with rather innocuous lessons on mitosis and essentially culminates with the early '80's NOVA film of the slimy blue baby in all its delivery room glory.

Along the way, however, we inevitably have some lively discussions. Sometimes the questions the students ask make me laugh and other times I become fearful for their future. Regardless, each year, after the unit is over, I always end up wishing I documented these questions - humorous, naïve, bizarre, and otherwise. So, this is the year.

After several weeks of looking at where life begins, I give you the best of the worst; these are my favorite "human reproduction" questions of the year! While they are all typical, most of them I have not been asked before quite like this.

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"Does the masculine system look like that [the diagram of the uterus]?" (asked by a boy)

"If you have sex for 30 minutes does that make it more likely to get pregnant?"

"Exactly how many sperm are there...like per cubic centimeter?"

"Ew! It's like spaghetti! [magnified image of the seminiferous tubules inside the testis where sperm are formed]"

"If a guy has sex before breakfast and again after lunch and then again after dinner, how is the number of his sperm changed? (This student assured me that the women - only in Colombia are there multiples - were very pretty.)

"So...how many holes do we have?" (asked by a girl while looking at a diagram of the female anatomy from the text book)

"What happens if a guy puts 'it' in one of a girl's 'other places'?"

"Where on here [diagram of the female reproductive system] is the G-Spot?"

"Would it be a good idea to masturbate before having sex? [What?] Well, if you masturbate then you get rid of all the sperm and then you can have sex and not get the girl pregnant, right?"

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It should be noted that all of these questions are said with straight faces and most of the time the rest of the class quiets down to hear the my response. Maybe just having "sex ed" only in fifth grade isn't such a good idea...

Oh, and Happy Valentine's Day!