It’s crazy looking back on my last
blog post. It literally felt like the sadness would never end, but I’m elated
that it has passed. It took me a while to get acclimated to my new life. It was
as if a part of me had never really quite made it to Colombia. That piece of me
was still trying to live a life in the States that no longer exists. While I am
glad that those feelings have passed, I still appreciate how I felt at that
moment. It remains an important part of my service so far, and has helped me
mature emotionally. As a person who rarely displays emotional distress, it was
frightening to experience something so overwhelming. I felt like there was
nothing that I could do, and that it would never get better. But it did.
I’m almost at the six month mark of my service
which is wild. I know people say time flies, but it really does! It feels like
just yesterday that I was spending my last night on US soil, writing my first
PC diary entry in my bed at the Miami Crowne Plaza. I remember having our first
meal as PCTs together; the Cuban food was delicious and I would lowkey do
anything to eat it again. The night before heading to Barranquilla some of us
went out for drinks at Wet Willies and dipped our feet in Miami Beach. At that
moment I was anxious and excited to start a new chapter in my life. I never
thought that I would experience so much in the first five months.
Now I’m in my bed at site. I can
hear the church on my “street” (I don’t know if to call it a street in the
sense that people from back home would envision it. It’s more like a wide path)
blasting music from their speakers. I can hear the excited shrieks of my one
year old host niece who’s roaming the halls of the house. I can hear the
whirring of the washing machine as my host sister goes through piles of
laundry. My fan is on high, not because it’s hot, but because I’ve grown so
used to the white noise that I can’t concentrate without it. My ears are tuned
in to any small noise that comes from within my room. I’ve learned that it is
never wise to ignore those sounds.
I’ve been visited by a very persistent mouse a
few times now—I have no idea how it manages to continue invading my space.
First I found it living in my night table, so I moved it out of my room. Then
it scurried into a sizeable hole in my wall, so I covered it with hot pink duct
tape. My host brother in law figured out that it was probably shimmying through
the sizeable space between my bedroom door and the floor. That space has since
been closed by a strip of drywall nailed to the bottom of my door. When I heard
frantic scurrying across my ceiling I assumed that it was another mouse. I was
wrong. When I told my host sister about the noise she calmly stated “it’s
probably a roach”. Here’s how the conversation went:
*I hear the noise in my ceiling, and open my door
frantically looking for help*
Me: Yeliva there’s a mouse in my ceiling
Yeliva: Oh it’s probably a roach
Me: *thinking* There is no way that can be a roach it sounds
too big
Yeliva: calls over her husband to check it out
Julio: proceeds to climb on a chair and look at the open
space between the house’s ceiling and my ceiling. “Yeah it’s a roach”
Me: shivers in disgust
Yeliva: chuckles, listening as the roach scurries across my
ceiling, and directing her husband where to spray the bug spray
Me: pretends that I’m not scared out of my mind. What
would’ve happened if that beast made it into my room?
This is my new normal. Sweating 24/7 while everyone remains
dry, buying obscene amounts of caramel popcorn from the tienda around the
corner, smiling and greeting every single person that I pass on the street
(which is major for me and my “resting bitch face”), sitting in two hour
classes (while sweating) as kids try their hardest to be the loudest person in
the room, and Zumba-ing with my host sister at night…..this is what my life is
like now. Honestly, I wouldn’t change anything. I can already see how hard it
will be to leave this place next year (it’s crazy that I can actually say next
year I will be heading back home, even if it’s in November). I’m going to try
and enjoy every little moment because once I leave, I don’t know when I’ll be
back.
On another note, I’ve realized that a lot of major dates
have passed since I last wrote. Here’s a rundown of some big events that have
passed.
Swear In
I never got around to talking about this momentous occasion.
For three months I was in the in-between stage between a lowly trainee and a
full-fledged volunteer. In order to become a volunteer one must prove that they
have the skills and training necessary to be a productive volunteer. Other than
actually making it through training (which in itself is an amazing feat), we
had several written and oral exams. One of the more anxiety ridden tests for me
was my Language Proficiency Interview (LPI). All Peace Corps post have a level
of proficiency that PCT’s must achieve in order to become a PCV. For Colombia,
all trainees had to be at an intermediate mid-level of Spanish. To put that
into perspective, I tested into a Basic mid-level of Spanish a few days after
arrival in Colombia. As a result I had three months to jump a full level, which
is not as easy as it seems. I have always been an anxious person pre-test time.
The pressure on me to succeed on this test had me in a panic. In retrospect I
wouldn’t have been kicked out if I didn’t pass. There were PCVs who didn’t
achieve intermediate-mid. They were given a tutor who provided one-on-one
sessions, as well as a new deadline to achieve the set language level. I ended
up passing so I didn’t have to worry about that extra stress. The ceremony
itself was nice. It was held at Universidad del Norte which was very close to
our training center. It felt really important because the US ambassador to
Colombia was present. We also had to take an official oath in Spanish and
English, as well as sing the Colombian and US anthem. It was an enjoyable
event, and I even got a pin and wristband out of it!
Thanksgiving
This year was my fourth thanksgiving away from home. It
lined up with our All Volunteers Conference (AVC) where everyone currently
serving meets up for a few days of sessions. Thanksgiving fell on the second
day that we were there. It was really nice to be there around my new friends,
even though only two weeks had passed since we last saw each other. It was
definitely weird to be in the warmth during that time of year. Granted I spent
Thanksgiving of 2012 in Rwanda, but it was still kind of weird. As much as I
claim to hate New England, I have accepted that I actually enjoy the change in
seasons. Thanksgiving dinner was definitely different, and lacked the typical
comfort foods that a lot of us are used to. Looking back I am really glad that
I had the opportunity to go to AVC. It was the last time that our whole group
was together. Since then we have lost six volunteers for various reasons
(making it seven gone in total). It’s crazy because during training we all
thought that we would all make it to our COS (close of service). I heard
somewhere that statistically speaking, most PC training groups lose a third of
their trainees by the time swear in rolls around. Every time we had a session
with a volunteer from Cll-5, they would look at as surprisingly and say “so all of you are still here?” I would always think “of course we’re all here, why
shouldn’t we be!?” Now I have more faith in statistics.
Christmas
Christmas was much less stressful than I thought it would
be. Christmas season came right after I got over my emotional dip. I was
excited to spend the time with my family, and see how celebrations differed in
Colombia. It was definitely different than being in Connecticut. For one, it
was ninety degrees! In my whole life I’ve known nothing but cold and snowy
Christmases, so this time was definitely weird for me. What made it even
crazier was that people throughout Cartagena put up winter themed Christmas
decorations. Imagine how strange it was for me to be looking at Santa on a snow
capped chimney, as I ate melting ice cream in the sweltering heat! Now I could
go into a sociological explanation of the “westernization” of the “developing”
world, and how that manifests through the commercialization of holidays. But there
would be no fun in that (lol). Christmas was definitely more relaxed in my
home. We had a Christmas tree, but I didn’t wake up at the crack of dawn to the
screams of my host nephew opening gifts. I guess part of that has to do with
the lack of popularity of Santa and his gift giving tendencies. A PCV friend of
mine who is Latina explained that the concept of Santa isn’t as popular within
Latinx culture, which makes a lot of sense. As a result Christmas really felt
like any other day of the year to me. In a way it kind of helped with the home
sickness I expected to feel. If my host family had gone all out to celebrate
Christmas, it would have reminded me of how we celebrate at home. But you
better believe I was blasting Parang all day!!!
New Years
New Years is supposedly a big deal in Cartagena. I was told
that tourists come from all over to spend their last night of the year in El
Centro and Getsemani (pretty sure I spelled that wrong). I definitely believed
all the hype as I tried to find lodging for the holiday. Literally every hotel
in the area was booked with no openings available. I was starting to get
worried that I would have to spend the New Year at site. While that wouldn’t
have been horrible, it’s one of my traditions to spend the New Year partying.
In the end everything came through when a PCV friend was able to hook us up
with a hotel outside of Cartagena. We spent a few days in a cute little hotel
with a pool, and most importantly, free wifi!!! For New Years Eve we went down
to El Centro and met up with a group of other PCVs. We roamed around the city
for a while, and somehow found ourselves on the wall (that surrounds the
Centro) for fireworks. There was no official countdown, and definitely no ball
drop, but it was still loads of fun. We made it back to the hotel early in the
morning, passed out for a few hours, and got up for a new adventure. A group of
us went to a finca (farm) where we relaxed and ate sancocho del campo. It’s a
type of soup that is chock full of delicious bits of food. It’s presented on
big banana leaves with a pile of the bulk of the soup (potatoes, yucca, corn on
the cob, beef chunks) in the middle. Then there are big pots on either end of
the table filled with the broth. We were all given calabash pieces to eat with.
Basically you scoop out broth with the calabash, and pick out food from the
center of the table, then eat it all together. It was definitely yummy!
I have a lot of dates to look forward to. This Monday will
be my first official day with the students in my school, February 27th
will mark 6 months in country, and soon after I will turn 23 on March 17th.
Can’t wait!
