Three Stitches. Two Armed Robberies. One Year Later.

To be adjusting to my life in the States–along with the chilly winter weather—seems surreal. Just last month, I lived under the squelching Caribbean sun, embracing the colorful Colombian culture and Spanish language.

In the comfort and safety of my own home, I reflect on the challenges of the past year and the strength that I gained in facing them.

Some difficult events made an impact on my experience, but I strived not to allow them to define the entire year. Completing my purpose in Barranquilla was essential, regardless of the moments when I wanted to quit.

Twice during the span of six months, I was robbed at gunpoint.

In January, just days after my initial arrival in Barranquilla, I rode the bus home from school at noon. When two armed robbers entered the bus from the back door, I failed to notice their presence. I was seated in the front of the bus and focused on learning my route. When I did not immediately respond to their demands, they hit me and took my backpack.

Nothing of value was stolen, but the thieves injured me. The gracious passengers of the bus helped escort me to the nearest clinic where I got three stitches in my hairline above my left eyebrow. 

As I sat in the clinic fighting the tears, I told the nurses and curious Colombians who were observing the situation that I wanted to be with my mom. They responded, "We're your mom right now." They bought me soup and cleaned my body of blood, sweat, and tears.

Following this occurrence, I carried my phone and cash tucked inside my shirt or waistband. I wore my house key tied to my wrist. I avoided carrying a bag at all measures. When I did carry a cheap, reusable grocery sack, nothing more than necessary was inside of it. I was quite prepared for the unlikely event of another incident, but a second robbery did happen in late July.

Two other Americans and I were standing outside the home of another volunteer. We had just returned from an evening at the movie theater and my friend was searching in her bag for her key. Two masked men on a motorcycle approached us, bearing a gun and demanding our bags.

As a result of what happened, I experienced times of extreme caution where I became overwhelmed or uneasy in new situations. Countless times did my heart race when I heard the quick-paced footsteps of a morning jogger behind me...or make eye contact with a man innocently crossing my path on a sidewalk.

Most Colombians have a story about the time that they (or a family member) were robbed. Oppositely, I know of many Americans who have lived in Colombia for years and nothing ever happened to them. I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

In spite on these incidents, my love for Colombia is profound. Nearly everyone I encountered projected a compassionate, lively spirit that captured my heart.

I would absolutely repeat the year. I would not change a single second of my experience. Each person and every moment played a unique role in this journey. Some moments increased my gratitude for the overall security of my life within the States.

I share these stories because I believe they are important. Many details were excluded for the sake of space, but I believe that everything happens for a reason and that now is the time for me to tell of these experiences (perhaps for the benefit of others, or simply the sake of myself).

After the second robbery, I bought a plane ticket home. I had talked to several family members and friends and decided to count my losses and return to the States. I packed my bags and spent the remainder of my Colombian pesos on street food and a soccer jersey. I spent the night before my flight at a pizzeria with other volunteers. In that moment, I felt a restlessness and lack of closure when I should have felt relief.

I was not made to quit.

During that evening, I made countless phone calls in the backroom of a corner "tienda" and emerged with a new resilience. I scurried home and called United Airlines. They changed my flight for only $5 and I received this as a sign that I was, indeed, meant to stay. Not all of the following days were easy, but they taught me a strength, peace, and determination that I had never quite experienced.

I am thankful that I stayed. I am thankful for every day. I am thankful for the people who demonstrated patience with and kindness to me (whether or not they understood the context of my daily highs and lows).

I can say with confidence, once again, that I would absolutely repeat the year.

Ask Me to Share

Has the past year been a dream? As I now sit comfortably at home in Ohio, my experience in South America seems surreal. 

Memories flash before my mind, eliciting a smile or a tear and confirming that this was a real experience, a year in Colombia. 

I recall the fresh fruits, happy giggles, blazing sun, broken Spanish, bumpy bus rides, and the list goes on...

Ask me to share about my time teaching and traveling on the Caribbean coast. Some stories are heartwarming, while others are scary. Even still, more are funny, adventurous, and joyous. Some stories are almost unbelievable without understanding of the cultural context, but I will do my best to accurately convey the reality of this wildly beautiful experience. 

Now, all I can express is gratitude. "Muchas gracias" to strangers, students, fellow volunteers, family, and friends who supported me on this journey if only for a moment. Because of you, my year in Colombia was a priceless opportunity. 

Here's to the next adventure. 

Musings from a Pizzería

On a breezy Monday night in Barranquilla, some were walking their dogs. Others were taking a trip to the tienda to buy beans and rice for the next day's meal. Others still were catching a bus home from work, stuck in the maze of traffic that so often plagues the streets during the evening. I, however, sat in a pizzería, sipping a maracuya juice and fighting the tears that were forming in my eyes.

Less than three weeks remain until I return to the States. 

Saying goodbye to the life that I've built over the past year is overwhelming. While being a challenge at many times, I am in awe of the overall beauty of this experience. With each obstacle overcome, I gained a new and profound fondness for the many many unique parts of this culture that have become the norm for my life. Here, underneath the squelching Caribbean sun, I unveiled a strength and grace of which I never knew.

I think of where I started. I think of where I ended. Every person that crossed my path this year was placed at the moment in my life for a reason. My student Ashley who so sweetly embraced my arrival to school, presenting me with a seashell and invitation to dinner. The quirky personalities that I met on the bike route who helped me integrate into the community. The strangers from all over the world who offered me friendship and assistance if only for a minute. 

As I sat in the pizzería with the gentle buzz of the Spanish language surrounding me, I attempted to control the overpowering nostalgia that suddenly captured my heart. Without a doubt, I stand in eager anticipation of life's next adventure; but, I struggle with parting from the vibrant color that Barranquilla has added to my life. 

Recently, I recalled a passage that I memorized in my high-school Spanish class. I am certain that I memorized these 16 words exactly so that I could reflect on them in this moment of my life six years later. Mateo 6:27: "¿Y quién de ustedes podrá, por mucho que se afane, añadir a su estatura un codo?" 

Simply, this means, "Don't worry." With the bittersweet departure from

Barranquilla that approaches, I can find peace in the unknown and appreciate the beauty and growth of what evolved to be an incredibly short year in Colombia. 

By the Numbers: TEFL Certification

With one click of a button, hundreds of hours of work are behind me. I submitted my last assignment for my Teaching English as a Second Language (TEFL) certification. Completing all the components of this certification is a gratifying accomplishment, not to mention an enormous feat.

This lifelong certification equips me with the knowledge and experience to effectively teach English-learners from any country and background. If I choose to pursue a volunteer opportunity teaching basic English to young immigrants or a weekend job tutoring advanced adults at the university level, TEFL certification makes me a more qualified candidate.

By the numbers, my certification with WorldTeach through the organization ACCREDITAT looks like this:

400 hours of teaching in the classroom
350 dollars to enroll in the program
135 hours of orientation and pre-training
25 hours of experience teaching English before the program
20 classroom-related readings and written reflections
18 lesson-plan submissions and written reflections
9 self-designed assessments and written reflections
2 25-minute video recordings of my class with written reflections
2 self-written case studies
1 co-teaching and cross-cultural communication workshop 
1 field-staff visit and constructive feedback

Among the most notable portions of the bimonthly submissions are lesson plans designed to a specific formula. During orientation in January, WorldTeach field staff taught volunteers how to design a lesson plan in five steps using: an opening, introduction to new material, group practice, individual practice, and closing. As creating lesson plans requires a resourceful mentality, I always enjoyed this portion of the certification, being able to incorporate songs, motions, occasional readings, and games into the classroom to be most effective.

The biggest component of the certification is filming a 25-minute video of class to send to the home office in Cambridge, Massachusetts for feedback. This seemingly easy task is trickier than it may seem. For my second video submission, I  succeeded in obtaining a recording only on my third attempt. My first attempt was foiled by a lack of water at the school. My second attempt failed due to a teacher leaving school early for personal reasons. My third attempt finally succeeded. As a safety precaution, I do not prefer to take my phone to school every day; therefore, special planning for this project is essential. When I was finally able to submit this video (my last assignment), I rejoiced in achieving this victory .

Although completing these assignments is a bittersweet reminder that my time in the Barranquilla is concluding, earning the TEFL certification is a fruit of my labors with lifelong implications. My experiences teaching in the unpredictable, warm, and dynamic "costeño" environment gives me a better opportunity to help English learners in the future.

From a professional development standpoint, it also helped me hone my skills to be a out-of-the-box problem solver and innovative, flexible thinker. Being able to use this training to assess my work with constructive criticism allowed me to stay focused on my goals and make daily progress.

Now, I officially offer my services to you. Do you know anyone wanting to improve his or her English-speaking skills? I can help!

Variety is the Spice of Life

Two-hundred and ninety-five days I have lived in Colombia. Many of these days have been spent in the classroom, while others are spent traveling cheaply along the coast or exploring the hidden gems of Barranquilla. To think that only eight days in the classroom remain in unbelievable.

Each day is a unique adventure, filled with unexpected twists and turns; therefore, describing a typical day is nearly impossible, but most days until recently usually followed a pattern that looked something like this:

The night before class: 

9:00 p.m.: In order to prepare for the following day, I set aside $3,400 pesos for the bus ride to school and $2,000 pesos for my breakfast of two bananas and a package of nuts. That's just under the equivalent of $2 USD. I fill my water bottle, pack my bag, and decide what to wear for the following day. With the excessive heat and exhaustion of speaking a second language, I sleep at least eight hours a night. Before falling asleep, I make sure to lightly spray my sheets with bug repellent so that the mosquitoes don't bite me during the night!  
The day of class:

6:05 a.m.: Off sounds my alarm! After washing my face, I usually dress in a pair of breezy pants and a tank top. I braid my hair or wrap it in a bun secured with a banana clip...a very popular fashion trend on the coast.

6:30 a.m.: Time to catch the bus. Even before 7 o'clock, I'm already sweating as I walk several blocks to the street where my bus passes. Some days I wait five minutes for the bus. Other days, I wait for 20 minutes. There are no bus stops; rather, when you see your bus approaching, you wave your hand in the street as signal for it to stop. The mornings are relatively quiet in Barranquilla, although many men along the street are already selling "tinto" (a small plastic cup of strong, bitter coffee) and "arepas de huevo" (eggs fried inside of a corn crust).

7:00 a.m.: Once I get off my bus, I walk into a "tienda" (a small store filled with a plethora of groceries and household items) to buy breakfast. As I walk several blocks to my school, I eat my bananas and wave to the students that I see en route to school with their parents. While some students walk, others ride on the back of a motorcycle. As I enter school, I greet the "portera" (the guard who stands at the entrance of the gated school) and make my way to my first class.

7:15 a.m.: Although class starts at 7 o'clock, students continue to arrive at school up to 30 or 40 minutes late. I begin class with songs...a favorite activity among Colombian students. Classroom activities also include chants with hand motions and completing activities in a textbook. Most rooms have air conditioning, which helps combat the heat.

10:00 a.m.: Descansa! During a brief recess period, students play soccer in an outdoor area in the center of the school. These resourceful students use an empty soda bottle when a soccer ball is unavailable. Others munch on chips and cookies from a small snack stand inside of the school. Being able to converse with my students during recess is my favorite part of the day. We often play hand games, like "thumb wars" or "rock, paper, scissors." The second-grade girls also love taking selfies on my cell phone.

10:30 a.m.: Back to class! During the last hour and a half of school, students are usually restless after recess, but we continue with our normal routine, sometimes consisting of group work or a dreaded exam.

12:00 p.m.: School's out! As I catch the bus home, salesmen jump aboard, selling everything from candy to coloring books. Sometimes a man representing a political party jumps onto the bus to distribute pamphlets about the upcoming election, while others will sing a salsa song or share a brief message about Catholicism. Ultimately, they are all looking for spare change in exchange for what they offer. The ride home from school in the afternoon is always much livelier than the ride to school.

1:00 p.m.: At lunchtime, I love cooking with eggs, quinoa, oats, lentils, and fresh fruits and vegetables. I usually go to a tienda once a week, spending about $20,000 pesos (or around $7 USD) on my supplies. I make sure to drink an overabundance of water and usually talk to my host family about the day while watching a soccer game.

2:00 p.m.: After eating is a perfect time to take a nap or call my mom! Being able to stay connected to my family is incredibly important and I am thankful for the strength that their support provides.

3:00 - 9:00 p.m.: The afternoons and evenings are spent completing paperwork for my Teaching English as a Second Language (TEFL) certification, attending a small Spanish class, meeting friends for dinner, reading, or seeing a movie. On Wednesdays, a ticket to the movie theater costs $2 USD! Obviously, planning for my next lesson is an essential afternoon routine!

Why are no two days alike in Barranquilla? Many factors contribute to the unpredictably of a day on the coast. During the powerful, heavy rainstorms of September and October, deadly rushing water races through the streets and halts all activity. Furthermore, an outage of water or electricity can delay the start of a day. "Puentes" (three-day weekends) occur frequently as Colombians celebrate a national holiday. Even a national soccer game can cut a workday short as Colombians prepare to watch the game.

If variety is the spice of life, then Barranquilla is the place to be. 

Seven Lessons from Barranquilla

Living in a new place for a year is an invigorating and intimidating experience, each day providing a plethora of learning opportunities. As I reflect on the past ten months, I am overwhelmed by what Barranquilla has taught me as I begin to transition into the next stage of my journey: 

1. Be thankful and express gratitude. I am indebted to my family for the constant love that they showcase to me. In countless ways, the give me the strength to tackle any task...whether it's in the classroom or kitchen. Calling my mom multiple times a day is not uncommon, asking her questions about everything from job applications to cooking beans. I am incredibly thankful for and humbled by the emotional (and financial, at times) support that they provide, as it enables me to perform my duties in Barranquilla to my highest level. Thank you!

2. Seize tasks with selectivity. In other words, learn to say no. Colombians are very persuasive in their techniques when asking for a favor; however, in being selective in that tasks that I undertake, I am able to dedicate my energy to that which is most pertinent and where my skills can be best utilized. Furthermore, self-control, the discretion to determine whether something is absolutely necessary, is something that I have also developed during my time in Barranquilla. For example, shaved ice with a sugary topping is (sadly) not essential on a daily basis, from both a health and financial perspective.

3. Treat yo'self. In contrast, celebrating victories (both big and small) is an important part of life abroad. Having goals to achieve and small rewards for my accomplishments inspires me to stay invested into my personal and professional aspirations. After a rigorous month of teaching, I spent $22 on a simple hotel room where I could spend the night in air-conditioning and watch television in English. The fact that a treat like this is so rare makes it so much more enjoyable as I celebrate achievements.

4. Explore on your own. Sometimes the most peaceful, beautiful moments of self-reflection and self-growth are those that are spent solo. Taking a moment to be independent in the strong, community-orientated culture of Colombia is rejuvenating. To venture to the beach for a day or tour a museum alone builds confidence and creativity as I inadvertently stumble upon minor hiccups along the way.

5. Don't think about it too hard! Investing my energy into over-analyzing circumstances outside of my control is draining. Sometimes the line at the supermarket is long and slow. Sometimes I find worms in the tomatoes that I am cutting up for lunch. Sometimes strange, unfamiliar men on the street make comments about my "blonde" hair and pale skin. In these situations, I can only control my reaction and move forward positively. 

6. Be content without closure. Knowing the long-term outcome of my time in the classroom is impossible. Will my student be the future mayor of Barranquilla? Will my student be a successful adult of character and integrity?  Am I making a difference? Revel in uncertainty. Embrace the mystery. I may never understand why a student clings to my arm all day, but I know that I am offering that student the stability that she needs in that moment. Everything happens for a reason. 

7. Share in each others' joy and sorrow. Latin Americans make no hesitation in expressing their feelings. Although I cannot always understand what I being said, I can recognize non-verbal cues and match these expressions. If a child is crying at school, I hug them and sympathize with them. If a co-teacher offers a smile or laugh, I can do that same. Connecting to the emotions of others is vital!

Thank you, Barranquilla, for a challenging, rewarding past ten months. I can only imagine what the final two months hold.

"When you cough, it means it's going to rain..."

A wise Colombian recently told me, "When you cough, it means it's going to rain." With the current change in weather and my three-week battle with low energy, sinus problems, and a persistent cough, I believe her. 

Colombians refer to this illness as "la gripa" and recommend a variety of methods to combat its effects. Hot water with lemon is the most common, in addition to consuming an abundance of garlic and gargling with saltwater. A coworker, upon hearing my cough, offered to bring me vitamin C tablets. 

I am also advised not to walk from the direct heat outside into an air-conditioned building. A taxi driver kindly scolded me after noticing that I walked several blocks in the excessive heat before a thunderstorm. "That's how you get sick," he said. Indeed, as I have learned, la gripa and rain come hand-in-hand. 

Entering rainy season means that the streets flood frequently with rushing water. Because of the water's powerful force, cars pull off of the road and pedestrians scatter into nearby shops until the typically quick storms pass. Earlier in the year, a teenage girl died after falling into raging water. 

These rainstorms, in spite of their potential danger, are a soothing contrast to the strong, constant sunshine that Barranquilla experiences during most of the year. 

Rain or shine, school usually goes on, although arrival and departure times are sometimes delayed in the storms. Especially considering my being sick with la gripa, I'm thankful for a flexible schedule. In the recent weeks, school has been filled with celebrations and assemblies honoring el Día de Amor y Amistad and la Semana de Paz. We are learning adjectives, manners, and body parts. 

Only six weeks of class remain before I return home in December. This is a surreal moment as I recognize the time that has past and the time that still exists to make an impact in any way that I can. I will not let la gripa...or the rain...stop me from completing my obligations in Barranquilla.