La Teacher de Inglés*

Though I was in the vast minority of professors, I started class today. My enrollment list for each class is over 20, but I only had 5 students in each class. My 3rd semester class met first, and I was happy to see a couple of students who came to my English club last semester. We did introductions and went over the syllabus, and spent some time getting to know each other. With the handful of 8th semester students who showed up (by the way, all 5 I met today have excellent English), we chatted for about 20 minutes but then decided to call it quits and begin for real at the next class meeting next week.

Here are a few reflections on my first day of the semester:

•Though I might have looked spiffy in a pencil skirt and high heels, today was probably the only time this semester I’ll don that outfit. I was reminded of my dear Spanish professor from Lee, Dr. Ortega, who looked like a million bucks every single day in her dresses and stiletto heels. I don’t know how she made it through even 10 minutes on her feet.

•The semester’s off to a good start when one of your students gives you an apple on the first day of class :)

•I’m going to love the room my English 8 class meets in. It’s a little too big for comfort, but it’s on the corner of the second floor; large windows panel two sides of the room, and an enormous palm tree is right outside one of them.

•White boards that are actually white, and erasable, make me very happy.

•I LOVE TEACHING ESL. Yesterday I spent some time looking through ESL resources at a bilingual library, and seeing all that’s out there in the field confirmed my interest and made me want to learn, practice, and grow more in teaching English. But even more fulfilling is stepping into the classroom and connecting with real live students. Each one of them has his or her unique background, interests, personality and goals, and I truly look forward to getting to know them.

*The blog title comes from a new telenovela (soap opera) airing here in Colombia. It’s seriously called that, and people have been kidding me about it for the last few weeks. I watched one episode, and it’s the same old same old of soap operas to me. Mildly entertaining, but predictable and overly dramatic.

Ready or Not...

The suitcase is unpacked, the laundry is done, the school supplies are bought, and the first lesson is planned. Vacation is over, and classes are about to begin!

…or so I thought.

But…this is Colombia…Barranquilla…Universidad del Atlántico. And things don’t move at the same pace that I’m used to. And it’s the night before classes are supposedly supposed to start, yet class registration hasn’t opened for students. So maybe we’ll start the following day, or maybe it will be next week, as some students were telling me today.

Believe it or not, I'm itching to go back to work! Oh well. I’ll go with the flow, because there’s really no other choice, and enjoy the unexpected day(s) off.

As I sign off, here are a few pictures from my trip to Argentina.

Tuteo, Voseo, Ustedeo

In English, we have one form of “you.” Whether we’re talking to the president or to a dog, we use “you.” Whether we’re addressing one person or a crowd, it’s “you” (unless, of course, you live in the south, where it’s “y’all” or “you’uns”). Formal or informal, singular or plural, we have one pronoun and one verb conjugation. Spanish, on the other hand, has more variety. Tú, vos, usted, ustedes, and vosotros are all forms of “you”! [ustedes and vosotros are plural forms]

Note the varieties of verb conjugations in the following example (asking “Where are you from?”)

¿De dónde eres tú?
¿De dónde sos vos?
¿De dónde es usted?
¿De dónde son ustedes?
¿De dónde sois vosotros?

In Barranquilla, among other places, the tuteo is predominant, or the use of tú rather than the more formal usted. It’s still common to use the formal pronoun with older people, authority figures, or recent acquaintances, but people adopt the tú form much more quickly than in other places.

In Bogotá, I was surprised to hear how much the ustedeo is used compared to the tuteo. For example, I often heard close friends address each other as usted; even older children would address younger children with the formal pronoun.

Here in Argentina (as well as many other regions of Latin America—see map below), the voseo dominates. After a few weeks I’m getting used to being addressed as vos instead of tú and to hearing verbs accented differently (due to the conjugation). And the voseo isn’t the only difference between Argentine and Colombian Spanish (or other dialects I’m used to). There are different vocabulary words (remis instead of taxi; pileta instead of piscina for pool; remera instead of camiseta for T-shirt); different pronunciations (“y” or “ll”, which are usually pronounced like the English “y” in yes, sounds like “sh” here…so Barranquilla is pronounced “BarranquiSHA); the prosody (or intonation) is more sing-songy, and there are a couple of words that are supercommon in Colombian Spanish that are taboo here, and vice versa.

Thank you (tú, vos, usted, ustedes, vosotros…) for reading :)




Dark and medium blue= Countries where the voseo is predominant.
Green= Countries where the voseo is used in some regions.
Light blue= Countries where the voseo is proporcianally scarce.
Red= (Spain, Dominican Republic, Equatorial Guinea and Puerto Rico) The voseo is never used

There's no place like home.

“Culture, in its broadest sense, is what makes you a stranger when you’re away from home.” -Phillip Bock and Edward Hall

After almost six months away from home, I have to admit I often still feel like a stranger here. And it’s not for lack of effort on my part to try to integrate. Nor is it because Colombians haven’t reached out to me and welcomed me into their homes. Instead, it’s just an honest realization: cross-cultural living is hard. Moving is hard. Starting from scratch is hard. Making friends, building a community, is hard. And when you’re doing it entirely in a language and culture that’s not your own…it’s exponentially harder. I’m thankful that I’ve had previous experiences abroad, and I’m grateful for my years of Spanish study. But in spite of all that, I’m having to admit to myself that there will be times of homesickness, and that’s OK. Pride tempts me to deny it, to say “I’m independent and self-sufficient;” a nagging voice causes me to question what I’ve always believed in—that multiculturalism is enriching, that deep, fulfilling cross-cultural relationships are possible. It’s tempting to idealize what I’m missing, believing that everything’s perfect in the States, or to become disillusioned about living abroad.

But that’s going to the extreme, allowing a natural phase of culture shock (although that's not really the best phrase in this case) get the best of me. The truth is, though, that home—roots—a sense of belonging—is significant. It’s a central part of who we are. Having a home culture is a privilege, and accepting it--the good, the bad, and the ugly--is crucial in achieving "healthy integration of the new with the old [culture]" (Myron Loss in Culture Shock).

A Brief Report from the Southern Hemisphere

Happy 2011!

What a whirlwind of a New Year it’s been. To recap the last few days:

-On the morning of December 31st, I said goodbye to Emily and the others from “Kiwi House” and headed down to Bogotá to meet up with Eileen. After having breakfast with her dad, sisters, brothers-in-law, and grandpa, we went to the airport. At 1:00 pm we left Bogotá, and at 9 p.m. we arrived in Santiago, Chile. Since we had a 12-hour layover and since it was New Years Eve, we left the airport in search of a celebration. It was so strange to be back in Santiago after 3 ½ years especially considering the time of night and that we only had a few hours there. From the airport we took a bus to the Metro station, where we rode the metro to the Torre Entel, the location of the biggest NYE celebration in Santiago. We got there about 10, found something to eat, and sat down and talked until midnight. The plaza was crazy when midnight rolled around—thousands of people with bullhorns, confetti, champagne, etc. As soon as the firewrosk stopped we decided to go back to the airport, since it didn’t seem like the safest idea to be haning around by ourselves on the streets of Santiago in the madrugada (wee hours of the morning). We walked for quite a while looking for transportation. With the help of a policeman, we caught a cab, got back to the airport before 2 am, and caught a few winks stretched out on airport chairs waiting for our 8 am flight.



The crowd gathered at Torre Entel in Santiago, Chile on New Year's Eve.

-By 11 am on New Years, we were in Buenos Aires, Argentina! Eileen’s friend Andrés (a Bogotano who lives in Buenos Aires) picked us up, we rode the bus for 2 hours, and arrived at the apartment of Andrea, a Colombian student involved with Cru in Buenos Aires. That afternoon the three of us girls headed out into the city for lunch. We walked a ton, but it was great to see the city. From the little I’ve seen, I LOVE Buenos Aires. Its architecture is very European, and it feels like Bucharest in many ways. Really, it’s like Europe in Latin America—can you beat that? The city has so much character, and right now (the middle of summer) the temperature is perfect.



Plaza de Mayo, Buenos Aires

-On Sunday Eileen, Andrea and I met up with some Brazilian friends of Eileen’s who happened to be in Buenos Aires. We saw the Plaza de Mayo (which is super-important in Argentina’s history; if you’re interested, read here) and strolled through the Feria de San Telmo, an endless row of vendors selling everything from handmade crafts to antiques.



One of the random things you find at a street fair--a Chik-fil-a apron, Spanish style!

-At 8 pm on Sunday, along with about 30 students and staff, we set out from the Crusade headquarters. Twelve hours later, we arrived in Córdoba, the site of the national conference, or “campamento de verano.” Well, about 15 minutes away from the destination our bus got a flat tire, so we had to be ferried to the conference site little by little in cars. The conference kicked off on Monday, and it’s been awesome already. Having grown up in Campus Crusade, there’s something so “homey” about conferences, no matter where in the world they take place. Aside from the welcoming event, we’ve had one plenary session and one workshop (I signed up for on aimed at professionals, about integrating faith and work), and a couple of small group/debrief meetings. It’s exciting to be here, among over 200 students and staff from Argentina, Uruguay, Bolivia, the U.S., and Colombia. There’s so much to learn, and I know both Eileen and I are looking forward to bringing ideas and tools back to Barranquilla to put into practice this coming semester.



With Eileen and a new firend, Maria Sol, in Cordoba, Argentina

Dragon Skin

So, who’s seen “The Voyage of the Dawn Treader?”

Next question: who’s read it?

Since the Chronicles of Narnia is my all-time favorite book series, and since it’s deeply ingrained in my childhood memories (I used to pretend to be Lucy—I even made myself a vial necklace), I waited eagerly for the “Dawn Treader” to come out. To my happy surprise, it came out on December 8th in Colombia.

Like always, there are incongruencies between the book and the movie. Aside from the issue of the invented green smoke (the producers must have seen too much LOST), the movie is lacking in its interpretation of the Eustace the dragon episode. Read Eustace’s vivid description of being “un-dragoned” as he recounts the experience to Edmund.

But the lion told me I must undress first. . . .

I was just going to say that I couldn’t undress because I hadn’t any clothes on when I suddenly thought that dragons are snaky sort of things and snakes can cast their skins. Oh, of course, thought I, that’s what the lion means. So I started scratching myself and my scales began coming off all over the place. And then I scratched a little deeper and, instead of just scales coming off here and there, my whole skin started peeling off beautifully, like it does after an illness, or as if I was a banana. In a minute or two I just stepped out of it. I could see it lying there beside me, looking rather nasty. It was a most lovely feeling. So I started to go down into the well for my bath.

But just as I was going to put my feet into the water I looked down and saw that they were all hard and rough and wrinkled and scaly just as they had been before. Oh, that’s all right, said I, it only means I had another smaller suit on underneath the first one, and I’ll have to get out of it too. So I scratched and tore again and this under skin peeled off beautifully and out I stepped and left it lying beside the other one and went down to the well for my bath.

Well, exactly the same thing happened again. And I thought to myself, oh dear, how ever many skins have I got to take off? For I was longing to bathe my leg. So I scratched away for the third time and got off a third skin, just like the two others, and stepped out of it. But as soon as I looked at myself in the water I knew it had been no good. . . .

“Then the lion said — but I don’t know if it spoke — You will have to let me undress you. I was afraid of his claws, I can tell you, but I was pretty nearly desperate now. So I just lay flat down on my back to let him do it.

“The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was jut the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off. You know — if you’ve ever picked the scab of a sore place. It hurts like billy-oh but it is such fun to see it coming away.”

“Well, he peeled the beastly stuff right off – just as I thought I’d done it myself the other three times, only they hadn’t hurt – and there it was lying on the grass, only ever so much thicker, and darker, and more knobbly-looking than the others had been. And there was I smooth and soft as a peeled switch and smaller than I had been. Then he caught hold of me – I didn’t like that much for I was very tender underneath now that I’d no skin on — and threw me into the water. It smarted like anything but only for a moment. After that it became perfectly delicious and as soon as I started swimming and splashing I found that all the pain had gone from my arm. And then I saw why. I’d turned into a boy again. . . .”
- - - - -

C.S. Lewis is a genius when it comes to metaphors; what an amazing analogy for the process of sanctification. Becoming the people God designed us to be is a feat that we cannot accomplish on our own. Countless times, I've decided I need to change something about myself. With hard work and self-discipline, I may be able to see an improvement...but it never lasts; there's always another dragon skin hiding underneath (Romans 7:21-24). But when I (with willingness and submission) allow God to work in me, real change--beginning at the heart level and working outwards--takes place. We have to "put off" "put to death" and "rid ourselves" of wrong thinking and behavior (Colossians 3, Ephesians 4), but God is the only one who can make us righteous (Philippians 2: 12-13).

The State of Affairs

I don't know how many of you have seen the news lately, but Colombia is in the middle of a huge crisis. Heavy rains have plagued the country for months,and currently 28 of the 32 departments are in a state of emergency. Rivers have overflowed their banks, and thousands of people are left with nothing.

Here in Atlantico, the department where I live, several villages have "disappeared", covered almost completely by water.

This is a pueblo named Campo de la Cruz.




Bello, a town near Medellin, experienced a landslide a couple of weeks ago that covered dozens of homes.


To add insult to injury, these stagnant waters have become breeding grounds for all kinds of diseases and water-borne illnesses. Rural Colombians are losing their livelihoods of cattle and crops as well.

Events like this tempt us to despair; natural disasters are relentless, and we as humans have no control. We can ease the symptoms of pain, and even that is daunting when we see the numbers of people affected.

Please join me, and thousands of people in Colombia and around the world, in praying for relief from this weather and help for its victims. And if you are able to contribute financially, there are many organizations working faithfully to help those suffering in Colombia.

Vision Mundial Colombia http://www.visionmundial.org.co/eContent/home.asp