Yesterday I had a really interesting conversation with a Colombian friend about the difference between collectively oriented cultures and individualistic cultures. I know there is an academic term for this idea, which I learned at some point, but I don't remember it off the top of my head and can't be bothered to search for it.

When I'm in the U.S., the idea that people should always put themselves first is never problematic for me. It seems pretty obvious that it's best to make decisions for yourself, not based on other people's needs or wishes for you. And I think even for an American I'm pretty individualistic. I had a conversation with Daria once about how I don't like doing things based on other people's needs or wishes because it makes me feel vulnerable.

But being here in Colombia, where there is a much stronger collective spirit, makes that statement sound SO selfish to me. People here do so much for each other all the time. I can't imagine how much time they must spend thinking about other people, but it makes the amount of time I spend thinking about myself seem really gross. People in my lab are always bringing me, and everyone else, presents. Nothing big, but every few days I'll walk in and there will be a little chocolate on my desk, and Christian or Juan Migel will say, "para ti." Just because. I never do things like that for other people. Not because I don't want to, but just because I don't usually think of it.

The conversation I had about this yesterday was with a friend who is an undergrad student here in Colombia, in his 5th and final year of study. Here, everyone does 4 years of classes and then they do a thesis, or research project, for their final year. Kind of like comps but bigger. So there are a lot of 5th year undergrads at CIAT doing their research. They receive a small amount of pay while they're working, but are definitely still on the student budget. Anyway, my friend Juan pays for his brother's internet, and for the oldest of his nephews to go to school. His brother is 10 years older and has three kids. Juan doesn't even seem resentful of it though, it's like he's really happy to support people he cares about. I asked him why he does it, and all he said was "no se...soy generoso?"


This is one of those realizations that I couldn't have come to if I wasn't in Colombia. There are a lot of things that seem so normal I don't even question them until I see a different way, and then it's like, "oh duh, that makes way more sense."

Also, I went to the cake place again. SO GOOOOD.

MEN HERE SHAVE, EVERYWHERE. No joke. I discovered this yesterday, when Nancy, Juan and I were sitting around the kitchen table after eating the best chocolate cake I've had in a LONG time. (From this place that is conveniently located right around the corner from my house, but I only just discovered it yesterday. I can't tell if it will be a blessing, or seriously bad news for my wallet/thighs.) We were talking about how well-kept Colombians are - they have the nicest teeth and finger/toe nails I've ever seen. And Nancy just casually drops in the fact that the men are really careful about their body hair too. AS IF men shaving all their body hair is casual. Obviously this led to me demanding that Juan show us his shaved body hair, and it is true: armpits, chest hair, happy trail, NIPPLES, facial hair, down south (although he didn't show us this), but not the legs. The legs are left hairy, interestingly...

The explanation for the shaving is that it is cleaner, and less smelly. More sanitary. Most young men here do it. Juan thought it was really strange that I was so shocked to learn of these shaving habits. I still think it's hilarious, so today at work I asked another friend Hector about it, and he lifted up his shirt to show me his stubble! And when I proceeded to make fun of him, he got really serious about how he thought all men in the whole world should shave. He thinks the only reason men in the U.S. don't shave is because they are insecure about their masculinity, and that shaving your body hair is a way to show that you care about your girlfriend and are willing to invest energy in making yourself look good for her. Oh and yes, he thinks it is a HUGE turn off if girls don't shave all their body hair, or don't take care of themselves in other ways, like failing to get regular manicures and pedicures. The thing about it though, is that Hector is not at all wealthy; the high importance he places on body image is not born out of an excess of money to spend on personal grooming, it really is cultural preference.

Moral of the story is that Colombians must think I am disgusting, walking around in the same pair of jeans every day, with prickly legs and dirt under my toe nails.

The internet is down in our house right now, and I don't have a phone, so I haven't been online, checked my email, or talked to anyone I wasn't looking at face to face in three days. That doesn't sound like that long, but it really is when you're usually online all the time and carrying a phone even when you go to the bathroom.

Friday was a staff party of sorts, at a finca outside of Cali. Everyone in DAPA took a big bus out to this gorgeous house surrounded by tropical plants including coca, and peppers, and these hanging flowers that looked fake. It was the house owned by the parents of one of the project leaders here, who host staff parties pretty frequently. (The last one was apparently the Christmas party, and it got quite rowdy from the stories..) I hadn't seen how really wealthy people live in Colombia before this, but the British pound goes a long way here!! They had a nice lawn, hammocks and gazebos with faerie lights everywhere, a fountain/pool thing, a parrot sitting amongst the enormous tropical flowers greeting everyone. The women who owned the house saw me trying to talk to the parrot, and so she tried to put it on my shoulder. But I think I'm afraid of parrots, and I think the parrot could sense my fear, because the parrot proceeded to squawk loudly and take a lot of anger out on my hair.

After a few drinks in the house everyone went to the nearby river where there was a swimming hole and a big rock to jump off of into the water. It's really weird to see all of the important, professional people you work with splashing around in a pool in their swim suits. But that was just the beginning of the erasing of the line between work life and social life...

We found a patch of grass that was big enough for some pick up soccer, so we played a good sized game. I should mention though that at this point it was me, one other women, and about 20 of the guys we work with, all shirt less and slightly drunk, and really competitively playing soccer. When it finally got dark and we couldn't play any more, we went back to the pool to rinse off the sweat. I don't know who started it, but soon enough the guys were removing the last bit of clothing they had on - their shorts - and swinging them triumphantly above their heads. Don't worry, there are pictures, which one day, I will add.

The rest of the night was pretty much just drinking and lots of dancing. Most people are super good dancers, but when they aren't dancing, people like to sit around the edges of the room and make fun of the people who aren't very good dancers. I don't really mind if people make fun of my dancing; I'm not under an illusions about the quality of my moves. Many people tried to teach me though, so I've now tipsily danced with most of my bosses and project leaders...

Colombians walk around after lunch to help with digestion. We usually finish in the cafeteria and then walk around the CIAT grounds for about 15 minutes. It's pretty nice. Also, Colombians brush their teeth after lunch, too. Everyone brings a toothbrush and toothpaste to work. 

We had a day off yesterday because it was Independence Day. Everyone went out on Tuesday night since there was no work on Wednesday, but I was too tired. I've really been feeling like a grandma lately. It's weird to be the one who never goes out, never smokes, and doesn't really drink that much, since at least in the last couple years I've been the one who always wants to go out. But everyone thinks I'm super lame here. I went to bed nice and early Tuesday night, and was just coming out of the shower on Wednesday morning around 8am when my 4 other housemates arrived home, still trashed and covered in neon paint. 

I've also had a revelation relating to Marx's ideas about labor, which I'm too lazy to write right now, so this is a reminder to myself to write it later.

Some things that don’t translate:

“It’s growing on me.” Nope, you cannot use the verb crecer to say that you are becoming more fond of something; I tried…

The importance of distinguishing between estar and ser. If you want to ask someone “If you were an animal, what animal would you be?” you use ser, not estar. Apparently, if you use estar, the person will think that you are asking them what animal they are with, as in, what animal are they sleeping with. Yes, I learned this one the hard way. However, I think the real question should be why bestiality is SO commonly discussed that use of the wrong ‘to be’ verb would yield this confusion…

I'm sitting on the balcony looking out at the lit up hills of San Antonio (the district I live in). Straight ahead is the florescent glow of the football stadium, on the hill to the right is Cerro de las Tres Cruces and below the hill is the San Antonia Iglesia. I just put chocolate chip cookies in the oven. Or actually, cacao-con-azucar-chunk cookies. You can't really buy chocolate chips here. I found a small, nasty-looking package of chocolate-flavored chips in the mercado but decided the cacao (which is actually for hot chocolate, and so has cinnamon in it!) would be tastier. Obviously I sampled a lot of it during the mixing process and it definitely is quite tasty. Speaking of chocolate, it is really hard to find good chocolate here!!! I went the last week and a half without any (impressive, considering I usually don't go more than 24 hours without chocolate), and so I have consumed two whole bars in the last 36 hours, in addition to the cookies. They sell little milk chocolate bars called Jet everywhere, but those shouldn't really be considered chocolate. Finally yesterday I found some real, good Colombian chocolate in the larger shop down by the river, so I stocked up.

Colombia was eliminated from the Copa America yesterday by Peru in a shoot out, and the US women's team lost the World Cup championship to Japan today, also in a shoot out, so it's been a rough weekend. I had a bit of fun though. Thursday afternoon 5 of us from work (3 Colombians, Theresa the German, and I) did a little chillmaxing in our house. It was about to storm so the air was really thick and humid, and we sat out on the balcony and smoked and watched the huge cracks of lightening. High person Spanish is much easier to understand because it is much slower. We eventually got hungry and walked around the corner to the sandwich shop, but while we were eating it started to pour SO HARD, and so we lazily decide to hail a taxi for the one block back to the house. Unfortunately I left my phone in the taxi, so I am once again disconnected and loving it.

Friday after work my friend took me to Chipichape (I think that's how you spell it? That's how it's pronounced at least) which is the biggest mall in Cali, and known for being a posh hang out place because a lot of the stores there are on the expensive side. Since Cali is also the plastic surgery capital of Colombia (and apparently lots of people from the U.S. come down here to get surgery too since it's cheaper) a large percentage of wealthy Colombian's have implants. Women mostly get boob (teta in Spanish!) or butt jobs, and men apparently like the pectoral and calf implants. So, people watching in Chipichape has another whole level of fun: trying to guess what's real and what's not! Spent several hours doing that and drinking coffee...

People watching has also led to the discovery that Colombian's do not have a concept of PDA. They don't seem to notice the difference between their bedroom and very public areas (malls, grocery stores, public parks, etc, etc) and will make out HARD CORE (grabbing, rubbing, caressing included) anywhere. Also, it's such a common sight, that other Colombian's don't blink an eye if people right next to them head towards second base. I think it's kind of hilarious, but it does still make me a slightly uncomfortable.

After the mall on Friday, we went to a club in this little party village called Manga. It's a strip lined with clubs and people selling snacks and cigarettes, located on the edge of Cali. It was a friend of my friend's 30th birthday, and so there was aguardiente galore. Like a lot of clubs here, the music was a mix of salsa, merenge, other types of latin music I don't know, and electronic. Whenever the type of music would switch, they would BLAST this fog horn sounding thing, which was TERRIFYING (to me at least...everyone else just thought it was funny when I jumped).

Now it's back to work tomorrow, but that's ok. I had a really good meeting on Friday, and there's another one tomorrow, and so it's finally becoming more clear what work exactly I'm supposed to be doing. Also, since I moved offices last week, my boss is paying for all of my meals (SCORE), which is a serious money saver and allows me to try a lot of Colombian foods. Everyday at lunch there is soup, rice, potato and meat, dessert or fruit, 3 types of juices, and salad. And it's actually pretty yummy. On Friday we had Tamales in banana leaves.

In the time it took me to write this, two batches of cookies have come out of the oven. I'm taking them to work tomorrow to thank my entomology lab, since I've now moved out into DAPA. Given the lack of normal ingredients, they taste ok but are not the most appetizing looking things...

I moved desks at work (from entomology to DAPA - the politically active branch of CIAT) so now I'm in the same building as all of my co-workers. It's a lot more convenient, but now they can all see when I'm not doing my work, aka on facebook/blogging. And it's kind of unclear how acceptable these activities are...I'm the only one managing my time, and I get everything done, but I guess it probably still looks bad if I'm on the clock chilling and checking out my friends photos...
But, I'm blogging anyways, hehehe. Or I should say, jajaja
Last night, I learned how to make arepas - the aforementioned cardboard like corn cakes. No wonder they lack flavor - they are literally just masa and water, mushed around a little and grilled. However, we also made a variation with sweet corn, that were pan fried and more delicious. They're usually eaten for breakfast, like pan de bono, these baked cheese-dough things. On Sunday I'm learning to make some national bean dish, and hopefully tamales soon!

I never paid that much attention to body language and tone and facial expression, but when people speak to me in Spanish and I can't understand the actual words, I've been noticing a lot more about the way people talk. And it's been a lot harder to get to know people in Spanish, but I end up getting to know them differently, based a lot less on what they actually say, and much more on the tone of the conversation and mannerisms. It's kind of cool actually. Except when it's weird (since I tend to kind of just stare at people while they talk to get more visual cues).

And I've been getting together with three middle-aged Colombian women twice a week during the lunch break to teach them English. And teaching English is so much harder than I ever would have thought!! Or maybe I'm just a really bad teacher, but I hope it's more just that we don't have a common point of understanding from which to start. My Spanish is a lot better than their English, so most of the explanations take place in Spanish, but it's impossible to explain verb tenses that don't really exist in Spanish, given that I don't even really understand them all in English. I thought I was pretty decent at English grammar, given that my mom is an English teacher and way too fond of grammar, and I can write without making a lot of grammatical errors. But there are all these tenses that I didn't even realize we use all the time that are weird. Seeing how Spanish-speakers try to understand English actually helps me understand Spanish though, because I'm getting a better sense of all the different ways that they think about language.

A little story I wrote to practice my new vocabulary: 

Por países en desarrollo, los pobres están en una peor situación que en lugares con infraestructura fuerte y más acceso a micro financia. En mi trabajo a CIAT, voy a examinar maneras diferentes para entrar mercados con empresas sostenibles, porque mediante mercados sostenibles, los pobres pueden lograr empoderamiento y conseguir ingreso. Hay varios modelos de negocios, y mi investigación voy a estar concentrado en una comunidad en la costa de Colombia. Esta comunidad ha usado el mercado de cosméticos para vende plantas homeopáticas, jabones, jarabes, y aceites esenciales. A través este enfoque, las mujeres han rescatado sus familias de la pobreza, y al mismo tiempo, han preservado saberes de su cultura de ascendencia africana. Lo que me interesan son las relaciones entre la comunidad y los otros actores en la cadena de valor. Esta cadena es importante como un modelo, porque en general, los pobres representan una población con rentables desaprovechados.

A veces, es difícil para incluir las pobrezas en la cadena porque hay muchas exigencias saludes, y a veces la comunidades faltan la gestión y capacitación. Pero, usualmente, estés poblaciones representan un buen oportunidad para incluir un nuevo porcentaje del población en una manera rentable. Es evidente para la trabajo del banco Grameen y el éxito de proyectos con micro financia.

I finally had a real weekend in Cali. Waking up at 5:30 every morning really destroys any prospect of a social life for me since I'm ready to go to bed at about 10pm, but I took Thursday and Friday off, so I was well rested for Friday night and Saturday. Friday we went out to some swanky clubs in Granada, a neighborhood that is known for being a little posher and stuck up. It's a trade off though, because since it is a higher class/more expensive neighborhood, Granada is also safer at night. The clubs either played a lot of American hip-hop or Salsa. And Saturday night I went out with my new housemate Nancy, an American, and a bunch of Colombians we work with. 

Sunday was by far the best though. We got up at 6:30 (the word for hangover is resaca) to run up a nearby hill called Cerro de las Tres Cruces, which, yes, has three crosses on it. It was FULL of Colombians, from little kids and their parents, to young adults, to the elderly. At the top of this hill there is a market of sorts every Sunday, with tons of little stands selling Gatorade, water, chopped up fruits (mango, papaya, banana, pineapple, coconut, yummmm), and baked goods. And all of these Colombians sitting around toweling off sweat, stretching, lifting weights in the little cinder block gym there, or, literally a few feet from the buff guys doing curl-ups, SITTING IN PEWS LISTENING TO SUNDAY MASS. Haha, Catholicism...

While we were doing a few sit ups with the dudes in the gym, we ran into two guys from CIAT, Juan and Hector! We ran back with them to their apartment, which reminded me a lot of student housing in the U.S. (dying house plants, no kitchen table since they usually just eat in their beds, etc), and familiarity is nice at this point. Since you can order in all different types of food (BRILLIANCE), we got Chinese fried rice, which Colombians are strangely fond of, delivered and watched Colombia beat Peru in the Copa America.

They say that when youre learning a language, you go from thinking you don't know anything, to starting to feeling pretty good cause you're getting the hang of it, to realizing how incredibly daunting it actually is to become fluent in another language. So while I suppose my recent frustration with my Spanish abilities is a sign of progress, it's still just frustrating to realize just how many different words there are and how I'm never possibly going to know more than a fraction of them.
Luckily, after 2 days of struggling through UN documents written in Spanish, Dan and Sammy (who speak no Spanish, though Dan would argue that he could teach Spanish lessons) have arrived in English.
Yesterday we went to our first salsa dancing class, which was kind of hilarious, but since Cali is the world salsa dancing capital, we kind of had to at least try it. We got quite stoned before hand, which probably didn't help with the hilarity, but definitely helped me keep the beat. Today we had our second lesson, but Sammy backed out at the last minute, so we told the instructor and everyone at the class that he was having really smelly, exlposive diarrhea, hehehe.

I've decided to learn how to swim! Technically, I can keep my head above water, but not for very long, and not moving very quickly. Mostly, it is just way too hot in Cali to run comfortably, and it's too dangerous to run in the evening when it starts to get cooler, and I'm so desperate for exercise that yesterday I finally overcame my catlike hatred of swimming and just got in there to do laps. Except holy jesus, swimming is really good exercise, or I'm extremely out of shape, because all I could manage was a lap at a time, and then I had to catch my breath for a few minutes before attempting another. At least there is clearly a lot of room for improvement, so hopefully by the end of the summer I will be a dolphin.

I also can't tell if it is possible to 'practice Spanish' in a non-flirtatious way. In the two weeks I've been in Cali, I've met a few Colombians, but the only ones who have suggested that we get together so I can practice Spanish/teach them English are guys. So does that mean if I accept this offer, it's kind of like a date? I wouldn't think so, but I guess it is a classic excuse for a date, and no girls have offered. Maybe I will just have to try it and find out, because I really do want to practice Spanish...

Side note: you can't flush toilet paper down the toilet because it clogs the pipes, so you have to throw it away in the trash can next to the toilet (like other Latin American countries I've been to, and maybe most developing countries?). This makes taking the garbage out DISGUSTING, but also provides a lot of insight into the folding/crumpling habits of others.

Back at work after the second three-day weekend in a row!! Colombians celebrate anything and everything, which I do not mind at all. Carleton should really get more in the spirit.

Anyway, I went on a little 2-night trip to a town called Salento, in the coffee-growing region of Colombia. I went with John, Theresa (seriously, there should be prizes for third-wheeling. I would win them all), and a few of their friends who I didn't know very well. Salento was beautiful; the town itself was very touristy, but most of the tourists were Colombian so I didn't mind at all. There were little stands lining the streets, selling arepas (these corn cakes that are really kind of like cardboard. I'm not sure why people eat them), and fresh mango and trucha (trout, the area is famous for them). On Saturday we took these jeeps up to this place  where we rented horses up into the mountains with cloud forests!! Unlike in the U.S. where there are lots of guides, and you wear a helmet when you ride horses, they pretty much just gave us the reins and said go, and off we rode. It was a little more exciting, just because I really was not sure that my horse was not going to go wild and throw me off down the mountain. Or that it wasn't going to fall on the really steep, rocky paths, that the horses slipped on more than a few times. But we made it, and then spent the rest of the day hiking up higher, and then all the way down through the beautiful forests. Cloud forests aren't the same as rain forests, but they still have different layers. There are some reeally, really tall trees, some shorter trees, and then some tall bushes with HUGE leaves. All of the plants looked really exotic and jungle-y though, and there were vines and enormous, colorful flowers everywhere, and tons of these huge butterflies.

So that was all good, except that the other people I was with were kind of weird. It's hard to get a sense of people when you don't really speak the same language, but after three days with these guys I've decided it isn't just a language barrier - they are not people I would be friends with even if I spoke Spanish. For one thing they are all about thirty, and you really do change a lot and enjoy different things at 30. But for another, sometimes you don't change a lot, apparently, since these guys seriously just made sexual jokes the entire time. Even after I learned the appropriate slang to understand the meaning of these jokes, it just was not THAT funny, not for 3 days. I'm not that good at being subtle though, and they could tell that I found them all a little bit annoying, so I feel bad about that. Seriously could not be helped though. Especially since one of the guys got pretty drunk the first night and would not stop asking me why I was single, whether I wanted to go out to eat with him when we got back, why I wouldn't dance salsa with him, etc, etc. And classically unsubtle, I finally just left the bar and went to bed, so HE FOLLOWED ME BACK, not understanding why I wasn't having the time of my life.

It's good to be back in Cali though, and Dan and Sammy are coming to visit tomorrow, so can't wait to speak LOTS of English!!