Monday: the Best Day of the Week

While Mondays can have a bad reputation, they happen to be my favorite day of the week. On Mondays, I spend four hours with my lively kindergarten classes. These students, some as young as four years old, eagerly express their affection with hugs and kisses as I enter the classroom. 

They are curious to learn new English words and I am regularly bombarded with the phrase, "¿Como se dice ________ en ingles?" Usually, I can readily provide the answers to their questions; however, I am sometimes stumped by their request to translate the occasional obscure word, such as "ceiling fan."

We have learned about shapes, colors, numbers, weather, and emotions. Some of the best tools in the classroom are the vocabulary flashcards that I make with computer paper and crayons. They love repeating the vocabulary words in different voices: high-pitched, low-pitched, fast, slow, quiet, and loud.

However, like most children, their favorite activities are hands-on and interactive. When we learned weather vocabulary, I brought a tote bag to class that was filled with various items ranging from an umbrella and scarf to sunscreen and rain boots. Students selected an item from the bag and placed it beneath a corresponding sign that depicted a weather condition. Students loved being able to grab an item from the bag and even wear it. The boys particularly enjoyed modeling a pair giant sunglasses.  

Considering the passion for rhythm and music in Latin America, students love listening to and learning new songs. We always open class with the same songs and "If You're Happy and You Know It" is a favorite.

No characteristic is more needed in the Colombian classroom than flexibility. I have yet to teach an entire week of class according to the schedule that we made at the beginning of the year. In the lesson that my friend helped me record as part of my TEFL certification, the CD player stopped working, one little girl threw up, and the janitorial staff came into the room to clean the mess. That same day, my classes were shortened by a surprise visit from a photographer who was taking class photos. Teaching in this environment always keeps me on my toes, but the experience is priceless. 

Medellín: What a View

What do you do when a teacher strike lasts nearly three weeks in Colombia? Travel, of course! In addition to spending time in coastal cities like Santa Marta and Cartagena, another volunteer and I flew into Medellín, a city tucked within the mountains of the interior of the country. 

Medellín, known for its springtime temperatures and picturesque views, gave us a much-needed break from the squelching heat of the coast. Medellín bustled with a diversity and urban flavor that can be rare to encounter in Barranquilla. 

From Pueblito Paisa, we could see for miles around the city. As the sun set, the landscape sparkled with the lights of the houses and cars beneath us. The view seemed surreal. 

At El Museo de Castillo, we learned about one of Medellín's wealthiest industrial families and toured the castle that they once called home. The house burst with collections of glass, art, books, and even hundreds of tiny spoons. 

At Barrío, a lively stop along the Metro, we saw works by the famous Boltero. Oversized bronze statues of men, women, and animals lined the park. 

We toured the Museo de Arte Moderno and caught a unique glimpse of Colombian architecture through its Utopia exhibit. 

Our visit to Medellín was impetuous...and one of the best experiences that I have had since coming to Barranquilla. Seeing a new place was energizing. Being surrounded by such lush, green scenery was rejuvenating.  The vegetarian food options were in abundance, especially in the Poblado district of the city. I am refreshed by this wealth of unexpected time that I had to see another side of Colombia...and ready to return to the classroom!

Momentos Especiales

Rather than spending last Sunday evening preparing English lessons for the week ahead, another volunteer and I went to a restaurant in a lively area of the city. With a continuing teacher strike that has indefinitely canceled classes, we found ourselves wanting to explore Barranquilla. 

After dining, we made our way to a wide, open expanse known as the Plaza de la Paz. This area bustled with people of all ages. While some practiced their skateboarding skills, others danced in front of a large speaker blaring music. Children scurried across the smooth pavement on their bicycles and roller blades.

The stained-glass windows of a massive cathedral sparkled under the street lights as busses and taxis moved through the streets. Men dressed in colorful uniforms maneuvered ice-cream carts around the playing children. 

My friend and I situated ourselves on a set of stairs where we could observe the energetic scene before us. We watched the dancers perform backflips and handstands among their dance moves. 

As the evening progressed, the action slowly dissipated. The music stopped, the crowd thinned, and my friend found herself wanting something from a food vendor. 

When one of the street dancers saw my friend motioning toward the vendor, he proceeded to buy both of us a sucker. He, along with a few of his friends, joined us on the steps. 

José Alberto immediately began sharing his story. He talked about his happiness, his struggles, and how he remains positive. The twenty-two year old Venezuelan is working temporary in Barranquilla and living with his mother, a Colombian, during that time. His father, who works on a ship, travels a lot and has children in multiple countries. 

Although only living in Barranquilla for a short time, he became friends with a group of street dancers who meet regularly in the plaza. Dancing is a creative outlet. 

"I have many problems, but when I dance, everything is good," he explained. His excitement for dancing and his ability to find joy in spending time in the plaza inspired me. 

I am thankful for my brief encounter with this man. Some people enter your life for an hour, others for just a few months, and others for years. These encounters, no matter how long their duration, happen for a reason. Each person has a story to share. Each person has the potential to brighten--even shape--another life. Being more conscientious of this fact is my goal as the next month progresses. I want, not only to listen and learn from those around me, but to also brighten the lives of those I encounter...even if it is merely through a smile. 

Vamos, Vamos, Tiburón

I could feel the ground trembling beneath me. I could hear the unfaltering roar of the crowd. Nothing have I ever experienced like this. 

This is Colombian soccer. 

Fans clad in red and white striped jerseys jumped from their seats, clinging to each other in passionate embraces. Others in the stadium boisterously shoved those around them, carelessly aware of only one thing. Junior scored a goal. 

Junior is one of twenty teams within the Liga Águila del Fútbol Profesional Colombiano. On my first day in Barranquilla, my host family eagerly declared their loyalty to Junior as we watched a game on television. Much to their approval, I embraced Junior as my team, too. 

Although our tickets specified exact seats, my Colombian friend and I arrived early enough to the game that we were able to actually choose where we wanted to sit. He merely shrugged his shoulders when I questioned if we needed to find the seats printed onto our tickets. 

We sat on the east side of the stadium, a relatively calm place to enjoy the game with a perfect view of the centerfield. This side of the stadium is referred to as the Barra Fuerza Tiburona, or literally, the Shark's Force Fan Section. 

Around the stadium hung colorful banners representing different neighborhoods in Barranquilla. The most clamorous fans occupied the south side of the stadium, chanting throughout the entire game. These fans are the Barra Frente Rojiblanco Sur, or literally, the Red and White Front.  

Minutes before the game began, diehard fans eagerly distributed red, white, and blue balloons among the crowd. These represented the colors of Junior. Others distributed plastic bags in the colors of Barranquilla's flag: red, yellow, and green.

I captured air inside of my yellow bag and held it high as the anthem of Barranquilla played. As the anthem ended, we left the bags and balloons to the wind, blowing freely in a colorful confetti to the lowest part of the stadium. 

Eighth-ranked Junior played second-ranked Independiente Santa Fe. To spot a Santa Fe fan in the crowd was impossible. When I asked my friend if Junior would win, he replied affirmatively. His answer needed to justification. Junior fans, through the good and the bad, are undyingly loyal to the tiburones, or sharks. 

His confidence was justified, as Junior claimed a 3-1 victory over the team from Bogotá. With each of the three goals, the stadium shook beneath my feet as the fans jumped and cheered. 

To not be completely engulfed within the sights and sounds was impossible. In such an amplified environment, feeling a part of the culture is not difficult. In these moments, at my very first soccer game, I never felt more at home. 

A Day with Doris

Crowds of people lined the narrow aisles that separated the tiny booths bursting with goods. Everything from raw fish and used suitcases to cactus plants and exotic fruits overflowed from each stall. A rainbow of color vividly presented itself in the rich fabrics, bright plastic wear, and array of foods on display.  Car horns blared as taxis and buses struggled to move through the masses.

When a coworker invited me to spend a Saturday afternoon with her in "El Centro," I never could have imagined the sights and sounds that would engulf me. 

"Is there a good day to go shopping here," I asked Doris, "With less crowds?" She casually replied, "The market is always this full of people." 

Attempting to catch my attention, vendors called, "Mona," as I maneuvered though the booths. This term refers to those with light-colored hair. Several tugged lightly on my arm in hopes of making a sale. 

Doris had advised me not to bring a purse, so I brought only a cheap cell phone and a few pesos discreetly tucked into my clothes. With a distinguishably different appearance  and obvious amazement at the activity surrounding me, I could be a particular target for pickpocketing. 

Upon discovering a few booths with jewelry and accessories, Doris eagerly pulled me inside the area. After considering the merchandise, she bought me a necklace, earrings, and headband. 

Just a short walk from the heart of the market's excitement stood a contrasting, peaceful plaza, marking the home of the beautiful Iglesias de San Nicolás de Tolentino. We entered for a moment before returning to the crowds. 

We eventually found a hearty, vegetarian-friendly lunch and indulged ourselves before returning to her house and spending a few moments with her family. 

This chaotic afternoon, slightly overwhelming (yet completely thrilling), is a defining cultural experience for me. To drown into such an authentic moment, guided by the expertise of a local is precious. I will never forget my day with Doris. 

Time for School

In true Colombian fashion, plans change at a moments notice. During the past two weeks, I transitioned from teaching at Hogar Mariano to another school: Instituto Distrital para el Desarrollo del Talento Humano (IDETH). This change provided the safest, most beneficial experience for both me and students. This co-ed school is less than 8 minutes on a bus from my house.

My first day at IDETH happened to be the day of the school's Carnaval celebration. While I assumed that I would be observing the festivities, the other teachers had different plans. Upon arriving to school, they declared me the Carnaval queen. While one teacher covered my eyelids in vivid eyeshadow, another rushed to a closet where she emerged with a bright pink and turquoise dress in a traditional "cumbia" style. Once the party began, the director of the school introduced me to the parents and students as I made an attempt to dance onstage.

This unexpected welcoming foreshadowed the inclusion and support that I have received. Parents are always greeting me and offering me advice on living on the coast. Telling them that I enjoy living in Barranquilla always brings a smile to their faces.

I have finally begun teaching, after a week of meetings, class observations, and several days of no school due to the Carnaval celebration. My students are in kindergarten, first, and second grades and especially enjoy singing songs in English.

While I create lesson plans and teach independently in kindergarten and second grade classes, I co-teach the first grade classes with Amparo.

Amparo has been a teacher for many years and speaks English well. With energy and enthusiasm, she does an amazing job teaching. After talking with some of her students from last year, I am impressed by the knowledge that they recall and their excitement for learning English. 

These children are eager to share their affection. Upon entering the classroom, I am greeted with countless hugs. Walking around the school, I often hear little voices exclaiming, "Teacher," accompanied by a smile and brisk wave. 

During snack break, the children love sharing their chips and cookies. While accepting the food from their sticky hands is not always the most appetizing, I am warmed by their desire to share. Not every moment is easy, but their smiling faces make every moment worthwhile!

Five Weeks, Five Insights

Within the past five weeks, I have gained a unique look on life in Colombia. Each day is unpredictable, yet energetically full of promise. Five things that I have learned in the past five weeks are: 

1. Patience and flexibility are essential for any American traveling in Colombia. Plans change at a moment's notice and time is free-flowing and debatably nonexistent. I am now in the process of transitioning from my initial placement school to a new school: Instituto Educativo Distrital para el Desarrollo del Talento Humano. My moving to a new school provides an overall better experience for both me and my students. With this change, I am perfecting the Latin American art of having a "cógela suave" attitude and going with the flow.  

2. Upon arriving in Colombia, one of my program directors said, "Don't underestimate the power of McDonald's." I unbelieving disregarded the comment, finding the fast food chain to be repulsive. However, after my short time in Barranquilla, I must admit that there is something soothing about the Golden Arches, the free wifi, and the greasy taste of cheap French fries being just a bus ride away. I have also acquired a new respect for fried yuca dipped in a mixture of mustard and mayonnaise. The common, potato-like root vegetable is delicious.

3. Although exact relations can be confusing, extended Colombian family members have become an integral part of my life. My cousin offered to take me to church and another invited me to spend Holy Week in another city. Last Friday, I spent the evening with two younger cousins and another volunteer playing card games and listening to music. I have also joined my aunt on bicycle rides throughout Barranquilla. I could continue to list the time I have spent with my family. Having such an inclusive family is sweet. 

4. The little things mean the most: sharing a smile, being given a sticker from an affectionate child, and conversing with a baker after buying a piece of bread that costs less than 20 cents. These simple acts make strong connections...and having these friendships is one of my happiest accomplishments in Barranquilla. Being greeted and conversing about merchandise in a local tienda undoubtedly means that I am slowly but surely integrating into my community.  

5. As Colombians need little reason for festivities, every day is a good day to celebrate. Seeing a car driving though town on a weeknight with giant speakers blaring salsa music through an open trunk is not uncommon. On Fridays, lawn chairs are set in a circle where neighbors and friends gather to revel in each other's company. When Miss Colombia--a Barranquilla native--won Miss Universe, endless excitement ensued. Simply put, Colombians enjoy the moment and the people in their life.