100 Days in Colombia

As of today (December 5^th), I have been living in Colombia for 100 days. I’ve completed a grueling training, moved into my permanent site, and observed a few classes at my new school. I am very proud to have made it here—it has not been that easy. Ever since the first few days of moving in I’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster. I’ve decided to share some of those feelings on this blog for several reasons. I am not an emotional person by far so making the decision to publicize my feelings has been a difficult one. However, I hope to use it as an accurate representation of where I am in my service right now. Maybe if current PCVs/PCTs from other countries are reading this, they will be able to relate to me. Maybe people considering joining the Peace Corps will read this and understand how difficult service can be. Either way I hope that in the future I can read this blog knowing that I have grown from the place I’m in now.

 Some days I wake up in the morning and want nothing more than to hop on the next plane to Bradley Airport. From my site I can hear planes overhead flying out of the Cartagena airport, and I wish it were me on board. I cherish going to sleep every night where I get to dream about my family and friends, people who I probably won’t see for another two years. Waking up from those dreams are the worst. For the first few moments post sleep I get to live the false reality of the dream. But then I quickly realize that I am nowhere near my friends and family, and won’t be for a while.

In Colombia I find myself crying at the most random times. Anyone who knows me knows how big of a deal that is. The first time it happened I was on my site visit to Cartagena, and I was spending the night at my counterpart’s house. I was getting ready for the night and putting my hair in Bantu knots because it had finally grown out enough since my last haircut. I realized that the last time my hair was long enough to do Bantu knots was during my last semester of college. That’s when the tears started to roll. At Spelman every night I would put my hair in Bantu knots in the company of my friends. It was nothing major really, just a time when we all sat and talked together about an array of things. I cried that night because I knew those memories could never be re-created. Not only was I far away in Colombia, but I had also just graduated, so I would never find myself in that situation again. I don’t know why but that realization shook me. Most of the other times I’ve cried have happened while listening to music.  A song will come up on my shuffle that will trigger some memory that brings me to tears. As the Christmas season has been approaching, the tears tend to happen more when listening to Parang (Trinidadian Christmas music). This will be my first Christmas away from family, and that realization has been nothing short of difficult.

Sometimes I really do question why I am here. I wonder if I made the right decision to dedicate two years of my life to the Peace Corps. I don’t think I really considered how long two years is during my application process. Everyone swears that the time will fly by but I can’t help to think that my life is going by in slow-mo. It feels like years have gone by since staging in Miami; to think that that was only 3 months ago is mind boggling. I find myself playing the time game. Like when you’re in a 90 minute class and you want nothing more than to leave. You’ll go “ok 90 minutes is only 3 sets of 30, or 6 sets of 15 and 15 minutes have already passed so I only have to sit through 5 more sets of 15!” I try to break up my service into livable chunks. For example, the 200 days (about 6 months) in Colombia mark will happen right around my birthday. The 10 month mark will happen in the “summer” when I hope I can get some visitors. In august c2-7 will arrive, and in December I’ll be home for Christmas. Playing that game has really helped me get through some rough times.

I don’t want this post to sound depressing. I am grateful for many things about Colombia. I have an amazing host family in my new site. They are warm, friendly, and do everything possible to make me feel welcome. Spending time with them really lifts my spirits. Getting to know C2-5 volunteers has also helped me put my life in perspective. They’ve all survived one year in Colombia, and can probably all relate to how I’m feeling now. My new friends in C2-6 are always there for me, and when we’re all together everything feels right. I am also thankful for the opportunity to even be here. I know that I’m going through a rough time right now, but I am still glad to be here. There are people who never get to fulfill their dreams of being in the Peace Corps, and I try to never forget that.

 During training we all got a sheet that graphed out the stages that PCVs go through during their service. The graph consists of a straight horizontal line with another line on top of it that dips above and below the horizontal line at certain points. The curves represent how the PCV is projected to feel, with dips below being rough patches and, rises being good moments. It gives me peace of mind to know that the graph projects me to be in a dip from now (month 3) to about month 6 (March). It somehow gives my feelings validation, knowing that I’m not crazy for feeling how I’m feeling right now. I just hope that by month 6 I have risen from this low point and have a more positive outlook.

Writing this blog, and keeping a journal has been very therapeutic for me. I never knew that I would become a “feelings person” (lol), but I have welcomed the changes I am already seeing in myself.

 

PS Mom if you read this don’t freak out! I will be fine.

Site Placements!

Another month has flown by! It feels like I have already experienced an entire lifetime. I can’t imagine how I will feel one year from now. It seems to me like time moves much slower whenever I leave the US—but much faster at the same time. My three months in Rwanda felt more like a year abroad. I once heard someone in our group say that in PC Colombia “the days are long and the weeks are short” (or something to that affect). Sometimes I feel as if the days here will never end! Waking up at 5:00am everyday (and mind you I am NOT a morning person), spending my 8am-5pm in training, returning home by 6pm, and passing out at 9pm, can be quite lengthy and exhausting. But somehow it seems that I wake up on Monday morning, then all of a sudden it’s Saturday night. If Peace Corps years are anything like college years, my time will be up before I know it. I still don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

Site Placement

Part of my commitment to the Peace Corps requires me to live and work in a community (either in/around Barranquilla, Cartagena, or Santa Marta) for two years. After two months of having this very important day looming over us, site placement day finally came! Understandably, everyone was pretty stressed out when it was time to find out our fates. While we all pledged to be “flexible” with our placement, I’m sure that deep down everyone had one or two reasons why they preferred one site over another. From before I even landed in Colombia I knew that I wanted to be placed in Cartagena—primarily because I wanted to work within an Afro-Colombian community. Through my extensive (and at times obsessive) pre-departure research I found out that Cartagena was home the largest Afro-Colombian community on the coast. It seemed natural for me to work with this community. I saw it as a way to further my education and experience within the African Diaspora. I live in the States, I’m West Indian-American, and have already been to Africa. It was time for me to acquaint myself with Afro-Latino culture. In addition, I wasn’t too keen on staying in the constant hustle and bustle of Barranquilla.

Some people were secretive about their preferred placements. Others insisted that they would be fine with wherever they were placed. I told everyone from day one what my intentions were. So by site placement time, everyone knew exactly where I wanted to go and why. I also got the feeling that they were all silently rooting for me to get exactly what I wanted (like I was doing for them). The actual site placement “ceremony” was stressful. It began with one of the PC staff reading a name from a folder and revealing their placement. Then that person would pick another folder, read the name, the person would get up, and the staff would reveal their placement. I knew that there were around 19 Barranquilla sites (including small pueblos in the Atlantico region), 5 or 6 in Santa Marta, and 5 in Cartagena—it felt like the odds were not in my favor. My some stroke of bad luck I was one of the last names to be read off. My heart thudded in my chest with each reveal. I relaxed a little bit as more and more people got Barranquilla placements—it meant that I was less likely to end up there. But then there was only one more Cartagena site left, my site! One of my friends was snapping reaction photos of everyone after they got the news. I look more relieved than anything, the stress was real!

Site Visits

For two years I will be living and working in a smallish community outside of Cartagena city. After meeting our counterparts (the English educators that we will be working with throughout our service) the following Tuesday we all headed out to our respective sites for a three day visit. My site looks very different from any part of Barranquilla I have ever been in. Its more in line with the image that I (and I’m sure many others) had of what “real” Peace Corps looks like. As one of the few urban placements, PC Colombia is not the typical “secluded village in the middle of the bush”. In Barranquilla all of us have running water, electricity, and most of us have washing machines and wifi (which is definitely a luxury here). My site placement is much less developed and has a clearly visible income disparity to the Old City in Cartagena. However this did not make the community any less appealing. I got to visit the school on Wednesday to meet the students and some of the teachers. Everyone was very welcoming and made me feel right at home. I was also surprised and relieved to find out that there were two other volunteers from the US working in my school. So in addition to me, there are two World Teach Volunteers, and an Austrian foundation in the barrio. One of the only downsides is the heat. It’s even hotter than Barranquilla and my barrio is supposedly even hotter than Cartagena city. I’m going to be drinking a ton of water!

In less than a month I’ll be moving in and starting a new chapter in my life. I can’t wait!

One Month In

Today officially marks one month of me living in Barranquilla. In some ways it feels like it has been 6 years, while other times only a few days. I’m finally getting to my new life on the coast—so much so that I can’t really think of “new things” to write about. I’m at a point where things have begun to be so normal that I forget how different it really is. I thought that it might be interesting to include my day to day schedule for anyone who is reading this. It’ll give you a glimpse into what my life has been like here; I’ll also be able to look back after PST and reminisce on my first hectic and exhausting months in Colombia.

My Typical Weekday Schedule

5:30 am – get out of bed and hop into the (always cold) shower

·         Anyone who knows me knows that I am not a morning person but I’m forced to be one here

6:00 am – after dressing turn on the wifi (which works like a light switch) to catch up on all of my social networking while eating breakfast

6:45 am—head out of my apartment and walk around the corner to meet my friends to take the bus to class

·         Buses in Barranquilla rival those in Kigali. Here the buses are school bus sized (and organized) with a turnstile at the front, and seats on either side. The buses are probably supposed to fit 50ish people sitting, but it always ends up being jam packed with people sitting and standing. Every time the bus stops and I think it’s impossible for more people to get on….they do. I don’t know how people manage to find space but it’s not a big deal to squish yourself in and ride for the whole trip pressed up against someone else. It’s also pretty common to see one or two people standing on the first step into the bus holding on tightly as the bus speeds through the narrow streets. To get a bus here you just flag one down that is going on the route you need to be on. The bus picks up and drops off passengers anywhere along the route, and (other than the transmetro bus line) doesn’t work like home with specific drop off/pick up stops. To get off the bus you have to push your way to the back and press a button on the side of the bus that alerts the driver to stop. The door usually opens as the bus as still moving so you have to wait until it stops before hopping off. If the door doesn’t open you have to yell “la puerta! La puerta!” until the driver hears you and stops. While the bus situation has taken some time to get used to, I appreciate the 1600 peso fee which is less than 1 USD.

8:00-12:00 pm – intensive Spanish class

·         During our first few days in Barranquilla we had a language test to see what level of Spanish we all had. From that we were all placed in classes ranging from beginner/novice to superior. I was surprised to find out that our group has a lot of native speakers, and Spanish teachers. I haven’t actually used my Spanish since high school so I wasn’t too surprised to be placed in the beginner class (though my pride was a bit bruised lol). Spanish class is a lot of fun and is focused mainly on communication (as opposed to grammar). So we spend a lot of time talking and playing games to help improve our language. I can feel myself becoming more comfortable with the language. I understand about 60% of what people say to me, but it can be difficult to respond back to them.

12:00-1:00 pm—Lunch

·         Lunch usually consists of the same mixture of meat, rice, beans, and “salad”. Like others, the meat has been a little harsh on my stomach, so I switched to vegetarian meals a week ago. The newness of the food here has work off, and I’m beginning to have some hardcore cravings. Some are for foods from back home: namely pepperoni pizza, burritos, and Chinese food. While others are for food available here that I do not have constant access to: fresh fruits and vegetables, mozzarella cheese, crunchy peanut butter, and greek yogurt. I would give anything for a fruit salad and salads that consist of more than lettuce, and tomatoes! The one thing that I do love is the juice. Our lunch juice comes in small tied off plastic baggies. It is made of actual fruit which changes every day. So far I have had, guava, papaya (which I hate), pineapple, passion fruit, orange, and a whole host of fruits that only seem to exist in this part of the world. The juice is jam packed with sugar but I could definitely drink it every day.

1:00-5:00 pm- technical training

·         This is the part of the day where we are given information related to our future work, or other aspects of our life in Colombia. We have had sessions on classroom management, teaching English as a native English speaker, mental and emotional health, resiliency, and a whole host of others. These sessions can be a bit overwhelming because I have no formal teaching experience, and it seems like I’m the only one who isn’t/hasn’t been a teacher. I’m also pretty exhausted and antsy by that time so it can be hard to sit still.

5:00 pm – bus back home

·         This usually takes 45 mins to an hour depending on the traffic and how many stops need to be made. A lot of fellow PCTs take the same bus back as I do which is always nice. I’m comfortable on the buses now so I have no issues pushing my way to the back, and timing the exact moment the bus shoots past my apartment.

6:45 pm-8:00 pm—shower, catch up on social networks, read on my kindle, watch Netflix

8:00 ish- 9:00 pm—dinner

9:00-10:00 continue to feed my internet addiction before passing out

5:30 am—wake up and do it all over again!!!!

My life now is pretty much scheduled and I can’t wait for the day when I have more control over my life. I’m at the point where I’m beginning to have more ups and downs but I’m still glad I came here, and look forward to the next two years in Colombia.

One Week In

When I started this blog I promised myself that I would update it more than my Kigali blog. So far that hasn’t really happened. I’ve only been in Barranquilla for a little over a week but it really feels like forever. In a little over a week I’ve: met the 32 people I’ll be spending the next two years in, moved in with a host family, and grown accustomed to sweating 24/7. A lot of other things have happened since I left Bradley airport and landed in Miami. However I’ll just talk about the important/interesting stuff.

North Carolina layover to Miami

-sat next to an old Cuban couple that kept speaking to me in Spanish. I felt really bad because I couldn’t help them, which lead me to be grateful for the extended Spanish class (PC Colombia) I was heading to.

Miami Staging

-unlike my fateful flights to Kigali, I got to Miami on time without missing my connection. I got to eat amazingly delicious Cuban food with a big group of fellow PCT (Peace Corps Trainees), which continued on to daiquiris at Wet Willies on Miami Beach and a late night walk on the beach. The staging itself was pretty cut and dry and made me slightly nervous of what I got myself into.

First few days in Barranquilla

The climate: HEAT, SWEAT, MORE HEAT, MORE SWEAT, CONSTANT HEAT AND SWEAT!!!! No joke. Never in my life have I had to experience these type of conditions. The heat and added humidity is like a thick haze that stifles you as soon as you walk outside (or into any room without air conditioning for that matter). I feel disgusting because I’m always sweating while the costenos (what Colombians from the Caribbean coast are called) stay dry and look at me like I’m crazy. I hope that at some point I either get used to the heat, or stop caring about how much sweat I produce in day. Other than the ever present heat, I’ve enjoyed my time in Barranquilla.

The food: The food is very similar to most West Indian food I’ve head except (ironically enough) for the lack of “heat”. Supposedly Colombians (or maybe just costenos) don’t like spicy food too much. I guess I’ll just have to have a bottle of pepper sauce sent to me (hint hint). The juice here is amazing even though I’m sure it has a ton of sugar in it. It’s pretty fresh and tastes like heaven. So far I’ve had tamarind, orange, pineapple, passion fruit, guava, and tree tomato juice and they were all wonderful. I can definitely get used to it. I also enjoyed sopa (soup) de mondongo, which I don’t really know the translation for but tastes and looks quite similar to all the West Indian soups I’m used to (minus the dumplings unfortunately). Some new things that I’ve had are: Mazamorra (tasted like sweet cold cornmeal porridge), Bollo de Mazorca (reminded me of the outer shell of pastels), and Aguardiente aka “fire water” which is the licorice flavored alcohol native to Colombia.

Home Stay Family

After living with a home stay family in Kigali, I pretty much had a good idea of what I should expect from these unique living situations. Part of me wanted a big family with kids so that I could practice my Spanish and meet a lot of new people. However I got placed in a home with a mother and her son who actually just left, so now it’s just the two of us. It feels a lot like my living situation in the states (not that anyone could ever replace my mother). I have a lot of privacy and down time where no one is bothering which is perfect for my personality. My host mom is wonderful but I feel bad because I only understand about 60% of what she says to me. I just nod my head a lot and say “si!” and hope that everything turns out ok lol. Now that it’s just her and I, I hope that I can strengthen my Spanish because we will have to communicate somehow.

On that note, language has been one of my challenges in Barranquilla so far. I didn’t realize how much Spanish I forgot until I reached here and was bombarded by it. Everyone here speaks so fast and I don’t have the “luxury” of looking like enough of a foreigner that people automatically speak to me in English. I’ve had to relearn all of the basic Spanish words and phrases I need to survive because now it’s a necessity. The thought of being comfortable enough with my Spanish to live and work in a barrio (neighborhood) for two years is overwhelming. I’m getting more comfortable day by day though, and have started to have weird Spanglish dreams (which I guess is a good sign). However, my Spanish and English is beginning to mesh, and I’m starting to forget the little Kinyarwanda I still have.

Anyway it’s only 7:00pm but I’m already getting pretty tired which has been my routine since I moved in. I hope that whoever reads this enjoys my ramblings. Until next time!

An Introduction

I began considering joining the Peace Corps (PC) sometime in high school. I never really knew what the specifics of the PC were, but I knew that it would allow me to travel around the world. I have always been eager to escape the monotony of my life in the States to experience "new" corners of the world. The travel bug really bit me during my first trip abroad without my mother. During the summer of my senior year some peers and I (and of course adult chaperones) traveled to Oaxaca, Mexico on a service learning trip. While there we took intensive Spanish classes, and volunteered at an orphanage and a school to teach English. Three years later I was a rising college junior taking classes at the University of West Indies St. Augustine campus in Trinidad. Getting academic credit for taking classes on my own culture (and acing them both of course) was an extremely fulfilling experience.

 I continued by international learning spree by enrolling in a semester abroad with SIT in Kigali, Rwanda. My time in Kigali was amazing and unmatched by any other experience I've had in my life. I attempted to maintain a blog while I was there (murahokigali3.blogspot.com/ if you're really interested) but failed miserably after a few posts. I will try to make this blog more regular with the hope that I will have regular access to internet.

 I chose to apply to the Peace Corps for a myriad of reasons but here are the most important ones (in no particular order):

1) Studying in Kigali piqued my interest in international development work. This new interest continued to blossom throughout the rest of my time in college. By the time I graduated I was dead set on studying ID for my master's. PC is the perfect feeder organization for this degree.

2) While doing research on ID I realized that there were few high level professionals in the field that looked like me. As a young Black female living in the US I have come to acknowledge that this is an (unfortunate) societal norm. The ID field is filled with well intentioned (for the most part) White men and women who may or may not be inflicted with White guilt, while shouldering the immense "White man's burden". To pick out a Black or Brown face in the sea of White is like, for lack of a better phrase, searching for a needle in a haystack. This severe lack of racial/ethnic diversity dramatically decreases the achievability of true sustainable development. There should never be one voice speaking for the "betterment" of the many. I hope that my voice and experiences can help diversify the ID discourse. (this paragraph is proof that my Spelman soc/anthro lens hasn't worn out yet lol).

3) I wanted to do development work within the African Diaspora

4) Most ID master's programs require 2+ years of experience in the field


As a result of these facts and many others, I convinced myself to turn in my application in August 2013 and begin the much hated PC waiting game. Seven months, countless medical exams, legal forms, background checks, and near anxiety attacks later I received my invitation to Colombia.

I was elated to have been selected for this program. From the few clues my interviewer provided me with, I thought that I would be headed for Nicaragua. After reading the invitation email and having a massive internal freakout I began the endless preparations for my August 2014 departure.

Now with one month left until my staging flight to Miami, it still hasn't hit me that I'll be leaving the country for two years. The ever growing pile of clothes, electronics, toiletries, and day to day supplies is starting to frighten me a little. I have no idea how they will all fit in the allotted two bag- 50 lbs each luggage limit. I try not to think of how I will say goodbye to my friends and family who have all supported my throughout my application process. I do have two requirements though.

NO MARRIAGES AND NO BABIES

That goes for friends and family! Engagements and pregnancies are allowed though lol (but I'm serious). Anyway this is getting long and I'm getting tired. Until next time!