Pictures are worth a thousand words...

…right?

Because I’m lacking the ganas or chef (Spanish and Romanian work better than English here!) to write blogs, but I’m determined not to abandon the effort! So here’s a little summary in pictures of recent happenings:

In mid-October, I finally made it to Santa Marta, a beautiful area of the Caribbean coast. It's the oldest settlement in Colombia as well as a little taste of paradise! I went with Maureen (my co-Fulbrighter) and some of her friends. It was adventure that included spending the night in a hammock on the beach, eating freshly caught fish, and snorkeling.





At the end of October, I joined the leaders of VPU (Vida Para la Universidad, the Colombia chapter of Campus Crusade) on a retreat in Armenia (in the beautiful "Eje Cafetero", or coffee-growing region). It was a wonderful weekend: refreshing, challenging, inspiring, and a great time to connect with the other leaders. Oh, experiencing fall-ish weather was a nice break, too.


(Andrey, Jean Carlos, Pochi, and Melissa--excited to ride a plane for the first time!)


(The landscape from our conference center)



(We had a little midnight adventure in Cali on the way back!)


(My church hosted another medical brigade...)



(...I translated--and lent a hand with wound cleaning...)



(...but the best part is that several of my English students volunteered to translate!)

Well, there's a few of the most blog-worthy pictures for ya!

Junior…¡Tu Papá!

This weekend I completed two more items on my Barranquilla bucket list: going to the zoo and attending a Junior game (Junior is B/quilla’s soccer team). For the past couple months, Granfield (my fellow English professor and “tutor,” or mentor, that UA assigned to me) has been telling me that he wanted to take me to a Junior game, and the opportunity finally came. Since I don’t own a jersey, I wore a red t-shirt to show my support. Granfield and his wife and son did the same. Big mistake. Turns out, at home games Junior fans (Junioristas) wear either the striped jersey or a white t-shirt. Especially when the opposing team is América, the rival from Cali, whose color is red. Junior games are infamous for getting rowdy, meaning you probably don’t want to be mistaken for a fan of the rival team. Fortunately (I guess), Junior was just eliminated from the tournament, which means there wasn’t much of a turnout at the stadium. And América won, 2-0. So although the game might have been lacking the normal hype and hysteria, the bright side is that there wasn’t utter mayhem. Well, actually a fight began to brew when América scored its second point, and a group of América hinchas (fans) behind us cheered, provoking the Junioristas. At this point Granfield grabbed me by the arm and pulled me a safe distance away. The police took their time sauntering over to break it up and kick the América fans out of the stadium. We decided to split about 10 minutes before the end of the game so as not to be the target of the Junioristas disappointment. And sure enough, on the way out, we got asked, “Hey, are you América fans?!” Lesson learned: wear a Junior jersey to the next game!







(I think he wins the prize for most passionate fan. Check out the shark (the mascot) attached to his hat!)



(I believe this qualifies as corroncho--Colombian redneck)

When a dictionary is not enough...

In comparing languages, there are countless examples of instances when two groups of people have different words for the same concept. English: word; Spanish: palabra. English: to travel; Spanish: viajar. The list is infinite. But what intrigues me is that two cultures can have distinct concepts for the same thing (or rather, for the same word, though translated correctly). Here are a few examples I’ve picked up on here in Barranquilla.

1. “on time”: In the U.S. being on time means you arrive no later than 9:00 for a 9:00 appointment. Though running late is, unfortunately, becoming the norm, we still consider anything after the set time to be “late.” Here, however, nobody arrives on the hour. Once I was invited to an event that started at 5:00. As I was walking there, I was sweating a little because I realized I would be 5 or 10 minutes late. When I arrived at 5:10, however, my friend told me, “Oh, Iris, you’re early!” And sure enough, things didn’t get started till 6:00, even though it was programmed for 5.

2. “a week/two weeks”: Here in Colombia (and in many Spanish-speaking countries), a week is referred to as ocho días (eight days) and two weeks as quince días (fifteen days). When I first heard someone say that something occurred eight days ago, I took them literally. But they really mean a week. Seven days. As I was leaving an appointment at the dermatologist one Monday, the doctor told me should like me to come again in ocho días. So I repeated that to the secretary, who signed me up for the following Monday. It’s interesting that when Spanish speakers learn English, they rarely pick up on this conceptual difference and use “eight days” interchangeably with “one week,” and the same thing with “fifteen days” and “two weeks.”

3. “blond”: Though English speakers admit that there is a wide range of blond (dirty blond, strawberry blond, etc.), rubio (or mono, as they say here in Colombia) has an even broader definition. To me, my hair is obviously brown. Not even light brown. I’d say it’s a solid medium brown. My driver’s license even says so. But here, I’m blond. Not only because my hair isn’t black, but because I have light skin and blue eyes.

4. “winter”: Here in Barranquilla, temperatures are in the 90s all year round with very little difference. Well, everyone says that in December, a cool breeze make it much more refreshing. But oddly enough, it’s not the “cool” December that is referred to as winter; it’s the hottest, wettest season. I can’t get over reading about the current invierno (winter) in Barranquilla as the scorching sun beats down on me!

Since I'm a nerd and I love fun facts about language and culture, I find this stuff fascinating! For those of you who agree, I’ll try to add to the list over the next few months :)

Life Is Good

I realize my blog posts are becoming fewer and farther between, and I suppose that´s because life has mostly settled into a routine and I´m lacking new and interesting things to recount.

I´ve been in Colombia just over two months now, which is hard to believe! On the one hand, so much has happened since my plane touched down on July 28th that it seems like that must have been at least six months ago: I´ve moved to a new country, become a college professor, (somewhat) learned my way around this chaotic city, met a ton of great people, and adapted to the weather, speech and customs of life on Colombia´s Caribbean coast (or at least I can say I´m off to a solid start). But on the other hand, these last two months make up 20% of my 10-month stint here. When I think of it that way, I´m saddened by how fast time is flying!

Overall, things are going great here. Of course, there are the little ups and downs of life, just as there are wherever you live. There are days when my lessons go better than expected and I feel like a successful teacher; other days, technology fails, I forget some important material, or for some other reason the lesson bombs. Some days I notice the progress in my Spanish and the language flows; other days I just can´t get out what I´m trying to say. Some days I successfully navigate life in Barranquilla, both culturally and regarding transportation. Other days I feel overwhelmed and long for the familiarity of my stomping grounds and culture. Some days I thoroughly enjoy time spent with my new friends here; however, there are plenty of times I dearly miss my family and friends spread all over the world: North Carolina, Tennessee, Virginia, Turkey, Italy, Indonesia, Korea, Romania.

But at the end of the day, I really can´t complain. I´m living the experience I´ve worked towards for years: living in Latin America, immersed in Spanish, teaching English. In addition to that, I have a God who walks with me through all these ups and downs, and I don´t say that lightly; He is faithful and he never fails. He provides for me daily in countless ways, and every good thing in my life is thanks to Him (James 1:17).

Contentment is a choice. Though I have many reasons to be content in the circumstances of my life here in Colombia, when I´m firmly convinced of God´s goodness and control, I can be content in all occasions (Philippians 4:12)

Brigada de Salud

Gripa, tos, fiebre, rasquiña, tapado, brote, pulgante, riñones…

These, among other words for body parts, symptoms and ailments, comprised my vocabulary this past Sunday and Monday. Why? Over the weekend, I served as an interpreter in a free medical brigade as I tagged along with a team from the US.

On Friday, a group of 14 Americans (from Colonial Heights Baptist Church in Mississippi) arrived in Barranquilla to spend a week serving the community through construction, evangelism and medical care. Bernardo (the pastor of my church here) and his wife Mildred host teams like this several times each year. They invited me to spend the weekend with them at the camp in Galapa (a municipality just outside Barranquilla) and to help with interpreting.

I can truthfully say that the weekend was one of my top three highlights of my first two months in Colombia. It was refreshing to get out of the city for a few days and to be in the company of fellow Americans. But more than that, what a fulfilling use of time. Especially amid my recent discouragement with language learning (see the previous entry), it was rewarding to be able to use my Spanish to serve others. God doesn’t require perfection; rather, it is availability and willingness that please Him. I’m realizing that I often cross the fine line between striving for excellence and proud perfectionism.

Also, the campaign displayed the body of Christ at work! Some used a hammer, others a stethoscope and others their mouth, but “each one should used whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms” (1 Peter 4:10).

In our makeshift clinics,


between two doctors we saw about 150 patients per day. The majority complained of gripa (translated as the flu, but really it’s the common cold), but we also saw scabies, skin fungus, acid reflux, arthritis, kidney infections, epilepsy, high blood pressure, yeast infections, malnourishment and parasites. And tons of pregnancies, often with girls as young as 15.

Serving in the brigade brought on mixed emotions. It was a joy to bring this free service to some of the poorest communities in Barranquilla. The people’s faces lit up when we handed them their prescriptions for free meds and vitamins. You could see the weight being lifted as they envisioned the coming relief from their pain.

But the joy was tainted by the reality of how short-lived their reprieve would be. We can give these young moms prenatal vitamins, but we can’t do anything about teenage pregnancy. We can give the kids a parasite pill, but we can’t replace their infested water with safe water. We can give the old ladies medication for their arthritis, but that too will soon run out.

That’s why this medical campaign would be incomplete without also bringing the truth of the gospel. Members of this Mississippi team also shared their own stories of hope with the Colombians they met. Though it may not have been the material desperation we see here, we all were once “sick” and in need of a remedy. Through Christ, we have hope, forgiveness, and a reason to live. In the past few days, dozens of people have received not only relief from physical pain, but have begun a relationship with God, the best Doctor of all.

At the risk of breaching the “too long of an entry” mark, I want to post the lyrics to “Instead of a Show” by Jon Foreman, the lead singer of Switchfoot:

I hate all your show and pretense
The hypocrisy of your praise
The hypocrisy of your festivals
I hate all your show
Away with your noisy worship
Away with your noisy hymns
I stomp on my ears when you're singing 'em
I hate all your show

Instead let there be a flood of justice
An endless procession of righteous living, living
Instead let there be a flood of justice
Instead of a show

Your eyes are closed when you're praying
You sing right along with the band
You shine up your shoes for services
There's blood on your hands
You turned your back on the homeless
And the ones that don't fit in your plan
Quit playing religion games
There's blood on your hands

Instead let there be a flood of justice
An endless procession of righteous living, living
Instead let there be a flood of justice
Instead of a show
I hate all your show

Let's argue this out
If your sins are blood red
Let's argue this out
You'll be one of the clouds
Let's argue this out
Quit fooling around
Give love to the ones who can't love at all
Give hope to the ones who’ve got no hope at all
Stand up for the ones who can't stand at all
I hate all your show

Instead let there be a flood of justice
An endless procession of righteous living, living
Instead let there be a flood of justice
Instead of a show
I hate all your show

I love this song, and I saw it played out through this team. It wasn’t about “religion games,” but rather about giving “hope to the ones who’ve got no hope at all”. Faith without works is dead (James 2:20).

Learning?

I have a confession to make: Lately I’ve been feeling discouraged, disillusioned and jaded by this whole foreign-language thing. Yes, I majored in Spanish as a second language, and yes, I’m teaching English as a foreign language. But I’m discouraged on both fronts.

I have studied Spanish continuously since the age of 14. I took it all through college and aced all my classes. But now, Spanish is no longer a convenient accessory. I eat, sleep and breathe Spanish these days. And I’m surviving. But I wouldn’t say I’m thriving.

It’s extremely frustrating to have thoughts trapped in my head that I can’t verbalize. It’s not like back in the States I say everything that comes to mind—but the point is I could! Here, it’s like the people I meet are only meeting half of me…when I’m asked my opinion, my response is often incomplete. I don’t have a sense of humor in Spanish. I don’t have the capacity for casual banter—if I make the effort to talk, it’s usually for a specific purpose.

Adding to my language frustration is the concern that I’ve plateaued—stagnated—fossilized. Ideally, after a few months here I’ll be “fluent” (which, by the way, I feel is a useless word due to its subjectivity and ambiguity). But I fear that I will never achieve that level.

I recently came across these two quotes:

Learning is like rowing upstream: not to advance is to drop back. ~Chinese Proverb

Learning is not a spectator sport. - D. Blocher

Obviously, the idea is that the learner is responsible for learning. Passivity doesn’t get us anywhere. And I’m certainly tempted to be passive when it comes to communication. If I don’t know how to say it, I don’t bother—or I over-simplify. Instead, I should struggle through it. Look things up, ask questions, circumnavigate.

As I mentioned at the beginning, I’m disillusioned with language as a teacher as well. My students are great, and classes are going well. But as I long for fluency in Spanish, I desire fluency in English for them. And I’m realizing what a challenge it is to be an effective foreign language teacher.

More food for thought:

The mediocre teacher tells. The good teacher explains. The superior teacher demonstrates. The great teacher inspires - William Arthur Ward

The biggest enemy to learning is the talking teacher. - John Holt

I’ve had enough TESOL classes to know that ↓TTT (low teacher talk time) is the goal. But how in the world do I inspire my students to learn English?

And I’ll end the blog with that question, because I certainly don’t have the answer right now.

"I was a stranger and you welcomed me"

To give you a little idea of what Barranquilleros are like, I thought I’d share a few phrases that I hear almost on a daily basis:

“Bienvenida”: (Welcome): Colombians, especially Barranquilleros, are very receptive to foreigners. I can’t avoid getting stares and questions…I stand out just a little [someone explained to me the other day that I’m “blond” even though I have medium-brown hair. Here “blond” is the combination of light skin+blue eyes+ lightish hair]. Anyway, many people have gone out of their way to welcome me to their city and country. On Sunday I spent the afternoon in Soledad, a municipality right outside Barranquilla, visiting a friend who lives there. We ate a pastry in a little bakery, and before I left the young woman behind the counter handed me this:



[Welcome to Soledad! God bless you, and here’s a gigantic hug. From your breadstore, Trigo Pan. Soledad, Atlántico].

“Esta es tu casa”: (This is your home): A variation of “mi casa es su casa,” this offer has been made to me on numerous occasions. Mostly, I’d like to mention my host parents, “mis papás colombianas,” Omar and Gina. I am so blessed by them and the way they’ve taken me under their wing. From the day I arrived in Colombia, they assured me that I was welcome in their home whether temporarily as I looked for housing or long-term as a home-stay arrangement. They explained to me that they have two grown sons who live in the U.S. who have been “adopted” by many kind Americans, and they want to do the same for me, since my family is far away. I’m so thankful to have a comfortable living situation—not only a roof over my head, but an adoptive family for my time here!


Gina and Omar

“Cualquier cosa, a la orden”: (Whatever you need, I’m happy to help.): From the couple beside me on the airplane to families at church to my students, I’m frequently reassured that I have people to turn to. This is really comforting because, as the new girl in town, I’m often clueless. When people say this, I can really sense their genuine willingness to help; it’s not just a meaningless “lemme know if ya need anything.” A quick example is the man on the bus who can tell I don’t know where to get off and asks me where I’m going, then signals the driver to stop so I can get off.

“Mi reina, mi princesa, mi vida, mi corazón, nena, mija”: (my queen, my princess, my life, my heart, honey, my daughter): These are just a few of the pet names that are so common here. I think it’s adorable.

“Te invito”: (I invite you): This is what Colombians say to when they’re picking up the bill. Here, it’s rare to split the bill when you go out (going Dutch, or “a lo Americano” as they say here). Instead, one person pays for everyone—it’s just assumed that things will more or less even out over time. It’s cool that people don’t stress about being equal down to the penny.

“Te acompaño”: (I’ll come with you.): Yet another way that I feel cared for as the foreigner in Barranquilla; people offer to go with me so that I won’t get lost, overcharged by taxi drivers, etc. I really feel fine about getting around by myself, because I can always ask directions or take a taxi as a last resort, but I’m thankful for people who go out of the way to get me where I’m going.

On an unrelated note, here are a couple of other recent pictures:




[I taught my friend Eileen, who, along with her cousin, owns a chocolate/dessert business, how to make an All-American Apple Pie. They were invited later that day to demonstrate the process on a local TV show!]


[Eating lunch with a few of my wonderful students from my English 3 class]


[My “souvenir” from riding a mototaxi. It’s a well-known fact (to everyone but me, that is) that you get down on the left side because the muffler is on the right…]