Linda tierra, linda gente

Since the last time I wrote, which was more than a month ago, my work schedule has more than doubled, along with my social life; I’ve had the chance to travel to some areas of the country outside of Barranquilla; my costeña vocabulary has increased; and I’ve established more or less my “life,” my own routine, here. I simply cannot recount every detail of what I’ve been up to in the past weeks, but I would like to express how much I've come to appreciate the beauty of Colombia. Through the photos, I want to share with you the amazing sights I have seen in Colombia. And in my stories, I want to share the most important type of beauty I have found within Colombia: the beauty of its people!

Account #1 of how friendly Colombians are: One day, I was standing in line to check out at the grocery store, and a middle-aged man in front of me started asking me the typical questions that I get anytime I meet someone new here: “Where are you from?” – Estados Unidos. “From what part?” – Wisconsin. (Which, comically, has been confused with “Kansas” more than once, since when I say “Wisconsin,” I use my normal, native English accent). After I told the man that I work at la Universidad del Norte, he shared with me that he, too, is a professor, who teaches at a university in Cartagena (another city on the Atlantic coast, just a couple hours away from Barranquilla). He grabbed a bottle of iced tea from the beverage fridge adjacent to the checkout line, then pointed at it and asked me if I wanted one, too. As we drank our iced teas while waiting in line (I still can’t get over the fact that you’re allowed to drink your beverage before you pay for it), he jotted down his e-mail address and told me to feel free to contact him, since we’re both involved in academia. So basically, we met, conversed, and less than two minutes later, I get a free iced tea. Normal? In the U.S., no, at least not in my experience. In fact, in the U.S., I might have thought this guy was a complete creep. But after having been Colombia for some time, it was obvious to me that he was just acting out normal costeño kindness.

Examples # 2 and #3 of Colombian warmth: At the Modern Art Museum of Barranquilla, I was viewing a super-chévere exhibit by a Colombian graphic artist, Dicken Castro. I noticed a group of students who had sketchbooks and rulers with them, so I guessed them to be graphic design students. I started talking with them, and sure enough, I was able to recognize my kind! While chatting with them about how graphic design studies work in Colombia, and about the designs featured in the exhibit, another pelao (guy, dude) who obviously wasn’t part of the student group joined in the conversation. This man, Filiberto, shared his knowledge with us on the graphic artist: that he is in his nineties now, but still continues designing; that he has designed over 600 logos; that the design on the 200 Colombian peso was created by him. We also ended up talking about the general cultural program within Barranquilla, and Filiberto told me that he is actually involved with the Modern Art Museum as a hobby, and that he also had contacts at the Museo del Caribe (the bigger, more renowned museum in Barranquilla). He gave me his business card since I told him I would be interested in volunteering at one of the museums, and though his help, I will be assisting the graphic designer at the Museo del Caribe starting this next week – which, by the way, I am SUPER excited about – as one of my projects, they want me to design more products for the museum store (like the T-shirts and coffee mugs and magnets you can buy at museum stores as gifts or souvenirs… but cooler, more creative products, since the Museo del Caribe is a really interactive and modern museum). The group of graphic design students that I had chatted with at the Modern Art Museum also made sure to exchange contact information with me, and that very night, I actually ended up partying with one of them. This is sooooo Barranquilla…:)

 

Then there’s the example of my friend Queli. My first or second week working at UniNorte, one of my coworkers sent me an e-mail explaining that his Colombian sister-in-law (Queli) was interested in having private English lessons from a female, native English-speaker, and that he thought of me as a possible tutor for her. I agreed to help out. The first time Queli and I met up, as we were discussing pricing for the lessons, Queli threw out a number, but then quickly added that she’d like to show me different places in Barranquilla and basically, be friends. And just like that, we became friends. Well, I mean, once, during our first official English lesson, we looked through a language book, but that never happened again, since we just started going to the movies, the beach, and out to eat, and just talking about whatever in English or Spanish.

Point in case #5. During a weekend trip to the city of Medellín, on my last day there, I was going solo to take the metrocable up into the mountains, because I wanted to visit Santa Elena, a pueblo where most of the flowers in Medellín are grown (Did you know that Colombia is one of the world’s largest flower exporters? Medellín, as as the “city of eternal spring,” takes a large part in this flower production). At one point en route, I had to get off at one of the metrocable stops to switch to a different line. At this particular stop, however, there was another site that I had been thinking of visiting, the Biblioteca España, and so I kind of just stopped and planted myself in the middle of everyone walking by, looking from one direction to another and trying to decide whether I wanted to go to the Biblioteca España right then or continue my journey up to Santa Elena. Since I must have appeared to be lost, an older Colombian woman who was walking by asked me what I was looking for. I told her that I wasn’t really lost, that I was just trying to decide where I wanted to visit next. She then proceeded to invite me to come with her and her family up to Santa Elena – the Biblioteca España was closed, anyway, she said. The reason for her family outing was that her daughter, Janeth, was visiting from Zaragoza, Spain, since she is married to a Spaniard and only makes it back to Colombia once a year. Janeth and I instantly shared a special bond, since I could talk with her about my travels in Spain, and since we were both short-term visitors of Medellín; so I took pictures of her with her digital camera; she took pictures of me with my digital camera, and then, of course, we ended up taking pictures together, too. Basically, they instantly took me in as part of their family for the day. The nine of us shared the metrocable ride the rest of the way up to Santa Elena, we shared lunch together, we shared photos together; Janeth and I shared my umbrella together when it started to rain. They paid for my lunch and even for the metrocable and metrotrain tickets back into the city. Once again, contact information was exchanged, and they told me that I had a home in both Medellín and in Zaragoza whenever I wanted to visit. This family’s generosity and kindness was the cherry on top of my trip in Medellín -- and one more bit of proof that Colombians are a truly beautiful people.

The list goes on and on: a friend of a friend recently invited me to a weekend trip to Santa Marta, after just meeting me that very day. A taxi driver invited me to go with his family to a Junior game (Junior is the soccer team here that Barranquilleros are crazy about). I have phone numbers from people I’ve met going home from the U on the bus.

And then there’s my Colombian familia, Sandra, Pablo, and Gaby, who continue to be absolutely amazing. My day simply isn’t complete without sitting on the balcony with them and having a little “chisme time” as we listen to music.

How did I get so lucky to land such a chévere living situation, in such a friendly city, in such a gorgeous country?