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The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. Government or the Peace Corps.

31 July 2009

Time flying sounds like reggaeton.

Oh my my my. Has it really been so long since I last wrote?

On Medellin: The city is nestled in a green, sunny mountain basin and is nicknamed "the city of eternal springtime." Not a bad place to live (or to seek respite from the cool, rainy days of Bogota). My stay was marvelous, and I found myself not wanting to leave on Monday night. Upon my arrival on Saturday morning (around 7 AM after an 8-hour night bus ride), my host greeted me with a metro ticket back to the bus station, where we headed off to a hilltop near San Felix (just outside of Medellin) to do some paragliding with a group of couchsurfers. In spite of not actually getting to fly (the wind picked up and no one was allowed in the air...although that could have made for some really exciting stories), the day was good. I managed to wolf down more than half of my bandeja paisa for lunch (a plate of rice, beans, about five types of meat, fried platain, salad, and potato), which may have been the day's most important accomplishment. Sleep caught me early thanks to the bus ride the night before. On Sunday Seb (my host) and I explored the Botanical Gardens, went to the market to buy fresh fruits and vegetables (I'm talking stands upon stands of screaming vendors selling nearly everything), and rode a cable car (which is actually a metro for people that live in the hills of the city) up to the northeast hills to enjoy the view. In warm Medellin, I began to sincerely appreciate the abundance of fresh fruits and juices that an equatorial country can offer--guanabana, lulo, granadilla, naranja, banano, fresa, mango--the list goes on. I arrived back in Bogota on Tuesday morning with the strange urge to put my apartment's seriously neglected blender to good use.

On to the next weekend: Villa de Leyva. Villa de Leyva is a small pueblo known for its white colonial-style buildings and quiet character (although I've heard they throw a great party on festival weekends...). I caught a ride with my friend Catalina, who I met in the states playing Ultimate (reason #252 that I love this sport.), and her family. They have a gooorgeous house about a five minute walk from the center plaza. The weekend was puntuacted with delicious new foods, quiet walks around the town, and a trip out to the countryside to her family's farm, where I ate what will most likely be the freshest chicken of my life (killed that morning and slowly grilled to yummy perfection). The landscape in the countryside around Villa de Leyva is, like all of Colombia, breathtaking. After chicken-eating, we took a walk down a path called the Paso de Angel, which a trail that snakes along the top of a ridge overlooking a couple of rivers and the rest of the mountains. At one point, the path no wider than a foot and a half, with what must of have been a 400 meter drop on either side (no guardrails, we don't need no stinking guardrails). I could sit comfortably on this part of the ridge with my legs dangling on either side, which I did (there's photographic evidence, too). Among the new foods that I sampled: Mogulla, a type of whole-grain sweet tasting bread that is amazing when it's fresh; chicha, a drink made from fermented corn and served cold; fresh empañadas (not new, but still delicious); morcilla, typically blood sausage stuffed with other hearty things like rice and peas; papas criollos, small round roasted potatoes; and chirrinchi, aguardiente flavored aromatic herbs and perfect to warm you from the inside on a cold desert night. Might I also say that Catalina's mom is an excellent cook, and I will never, ever be able to re-create her fried eggs, although I plan on trying.

The time here is flying, yet unlike my last journey far away from home, the passage of time isn't characterized by the mounting anxiety over a departure date, nor a sense of hurry to see everything that I can within such a short period of time. Bogota needs this kind of attention. As one recent acquaintance put it: Bogota is a lot like the best lovers. At first glance, you may not be seduced by its overwhelming beauty. This is no Buenos Aires, no Paris, not some uber-developed, squeaky clean place. Yet little by little, the city reveals itself as something that has much more to offer than a pretty face. You find yourself completely engrossed with what you might find next, and wind up staying for much longer than you expected...

Finally, I'll leave you with a song by a salsa band out of Bogota (a few years old, but it made it over to Europe and is still really popular here). You'll recognize the song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYvkJ-H-u4I

Take care, all.

18 July 2009

Chevere.

NOTE: If you come to Colombia, learn this word! It means cool, neat, awesome, anything good. Its close cousin is "vacano" (because after 12 minutes of conversation you will have exhausted chevere and will need a new synonym for "flipping sweet").

Amazing, the things that can be packed into one week. As of my last post, I had just moved into the hostel from the Garcias' place and was still getting situated in the new city. Since then, I've started volunteering with Atlas Corps, a young NGO (non-governmental organization) with lots of potential and pretty cool staff, moved out of the hostel and into a new apartment, and worn the crazy out of my soles walking around the city.

A bit about Atlas Corps: The organization is about three years old, which is very, very young for an NGO. They work on fostering cooperative fellowships for public sector professionals in Colombia, India, and the United States. For example, a fellow from Colombia goes to the United States for a year to live and work for a host organization (of which there are many to chose from) in order to pick up new strategies and skills for working in public sector development industry. In the meantime, a fellow from the United States comes here for a year to learn about the same kind of stuff. The experience offers both parties new perspective and some really good experience. Our office is verrrrry small (think college dorm and then cut off about a third) and there are a lot of volunteers there helping make everything work. We go to the same place nearly every day for lunch--a little restaurant at the top of some narrow stairs that offers a menù ejecutivo for 6,000 pesos (that's three dollars). The menù is this: your choice of meat, rice, salad, fried planatin (a Colombian standard), and often soup. For three dollars. Yep.

As for everything else: whirlwind. My apartment just fell into my lap, thanks to Atlas looking for a place for their new fellows that are coming in September. I'm staying in the room that a new fellow will be moving into in early September, basically as a place holder. The apartment is in Chapinero, near the city center. This neighborhood's other local name is Chapi-gay (I'm not kidding). I live above a karaoke bar called Brokeback Mountain (also not kidding). My roomates are one Colombian woman who works for the United Nations (super-chevere) and one young English architect that came to travel for one week and has been here for three months (also super-chevere). I think we'll get along well.

Currently, I'm in Medellin exploring and enjoying the sunshine (it has rained EVERY day in Bogota since I got there--a constant, Seattle-like drizzle) with some very gracious couchsurfers (see: www.couchsurfing.org). Today was beautiful and our bus ride down from the hills was gracefully halted by a parade honoring the patron saint of drivers: Santa Carmen. Her holiday was actually Thursday, but as having all of the bus drivers in one big parade presented a very big logistical problem, the parades have been spread over three days. Buses draped in streamers slowly crawled their way up the narrow streets that weave into the hill around Medellin, stopping traffic for miles. Very nice, as we were going the opposite way and only had to stop for a short time...

More on Medellin when I return.

12 July 2009

la llegada.

Where do I begin? The past five days have been graciously calm, full of good food, and one very kind family letting me take in as much as I can handle.

The Garcias, the family that I stayed with for my first night here, are first-class. With them, I went to a jazz concert (en español, very unusual for jazz), a new play called "La Gorda" (fat pig), zipaquira (huge salt caverns that have been carved out to form the 12 stations of the cross and one big cathedral), and the Museo de Oro (arguably one of the most well-known things in Bogotà--incredible collection of gold pieces recovered from all over Latin America). They live outside of Bogotà in the hills in a very nice house--think California gated community. They're an incredibly close, loving family. I really enjoyed being with them.

So far, Bogotà is an interesting city, but it's difficult to know exactly how to describe. It's sprawling like I've never seen sprawl. Whenever I thought we'd reached the city's edge, everything seemed to continue for miles in every direction. The city is situated right next to the mountains, with the hills to the east (sound familiar, Albuquerque?), and constantly pulsing with traffic. While public transit is here (and growing. Wikipedia "transmilenio"--their bus system.), there are TONS of cars and commuters. Like most cities, Bogotà has eaten up little suburbs that found themselves in its path of growth. Nonetheless, I'm incredibly impressed by the measures the city has taken to lower that pollution and encourage efficiency with transport. For one, the city has a decent network of bike paths that run through the middle and alongside the major roads--you can read about the Sunday "ciclovia" in any guide book. Along with that, they have a new system called "pico y placa." With this, there are certain cars that are prohibited from being on the road every day--everything having to do with what number your license plate ends in. For example, plates ending in 1, 3, 5, or 7 can´t be on the road on Mondays. Interesting way to lower traffic, but the some of the consequences are not as favorable. People in the lower middle class, who have only one car that they use for their work (think self-employed, like gardeners or vendors) suffer, now having only 3 days a week where they can really work. Like most good ideas, there is a dark side that some may not have considered.

There are so many other things to report, but those will have to wait. This post is becoming dangerously long and rambling. For those of you who are reading, however, know that I'm safe and excited to explore what the city has to offer. I'll try to get some photos up here soon. Ciao ciao.