Day of the Child?

When I was a kid, I'd often ask my parents around Mother's Day or Father's Day, "Why isn't there a Kids' Day?"
"Every day is kids' day," came the reply. I didn't think that was a good answer when I was little, but... I get it now.
In Mexico, we have Dia del Nino... Day of the Child. I would have LOVED this when I was a kid! But as an adult (at least in physical state, perhaps not always mentally), in a culture where kids have it pretty darn good, I wonder... why? Why "Day of the Child"?
Well, it just goes with how much people here seem to love to spoil children. So today, we celebrated the little guys, and my school pulled out all the stops, offering a bouncy-bounce (brincolin in Spanish), pools, slip and slides, and SNACKS. I managed to stay pretty dry during the water fights (I claimed needing to protect the beverages... right), but most people, kids and adults alike, were soaked!
The kinder teachers decided to give their students pet turtles as gifts for Day of the Child. Cultural bells and whistles were going off in my head when I thought about what my mom would have said if my school sent me home with a PET they didn't ask for! But, I can laugh, because I'm not the one going home with a turtle, nor are my (non-existent) offspring!

The pictures feature:

1. one my students, soaked, who isn't so excited about school but does enjoy soccer and drawing;

2. another student, who gets so excited about school that she was depressed the day before vacation;

3. Glenn, a colleague, also soaked, who told me he can't just smile for a picture, so I said to make a face and this is what I got;

4. A random picture of some students with their Valentine's Day cards back in February (and one who made a Rambo headpiece with his tissue paper).

Current Tuxtla Weather

Walking home today, I thought it felt pretty hot out, and that the sun was hurting my arms. So, I thought I'd check and see what the temperature is.

According to weather.com, at 4:45pm in Tuxtla (out of peak sun hours), it is 99 degrees F/38 or so Celsius, and "feels like 125". And instead of a "partly cloudy" or "mostly sunny" image, the image is haze and below is written, "Smoke". UV index? 10 + or "extreme".

Welcome to the jungle.

Mexico City! (or, "And I thought drivers in Tuxtla were scary!")

ARRIVAL
After I reluctantly left Colombia and Diana and her family, I headed for Mexico City, or la Ciudad de Mexico, or el D.F. (pronounced day effay, which stands for Distrito Federal).
I arrived back at the Mexico City airport around 11pm, which I have decided is a labyrinth both in terms of its halls and its lack of credible gate postings, and I called the hostel I had reservations with. I was told before that a reservation at this hostel entitled me to free airport pickup, which would save me over 100 pesos (more than 10 dollars). So, I found a payphone and called the 800 number.
"The car will be white with no markings, a Nissan. What color is your baggage? Are you wearing pants or a skirt?" I suppose I have experienced sketchier?
The car arrived with the driver and a sidekick, neither of whom spoke to me very much. I will give them the benefit of the doubt that they didn't think I spoke Spanish? They drove me to the Hostel/Hostal Moneda on Calle de la Moneda (where did they ever think of that name??), I checked in, and in my half-asleep daze I signed up for a trip to the Pyramids for the next day. At 9am. And I actually got up and was clean and on time, somehow.

DAY ONE: MISSED WORM OPPORTUNITIES, PYRAMID SCALING, AND AN EARTH-SHAKING EVENT
At 9am pretty sharp for Mexican time, we headed out in two vans to go to the Plaza de las Tres Culturas, the Guadeloupe Shrine/Church, a Tequila/Mezcal/Pulque sampling, and the Pyramids. I sat in the front because I was solo, and the driver caught on that I spoke Spanish. I sometimes forget that intergender friendliness here almost inevitably leads men into mistakenly thinking the female is interested in them... maybe this is just with foreign women, I really don't know since I can't test it as a non-foreign woman... anyhow, my friendly conversation with the driver to practice Spanish and just chat ended with repeated invitations for personal dance lessons that I managed to nicely get out of.

The rundown of Day One: Plaza de las Tres Culturas, where some of the only remaining pre-Hispanic ruins in the actually city are, the Guadeloupe Shrine, where the supposed miracle image of Guadeloupe/the Virgin Mary can be found and where a church was built for her because of this miracle, and Tequila/Mezcal/Pulque sampling. All three of these alcoholic beverages are made from maguey, a cactus. I took a picture of the worm in the Mezcal, put it down, and then thought, "WAIT! I should drink it!!" only to turn around and see someone else on the trip ready to down the gusano. Next time.
Then we hit the pyramids. They are the Pyramide de la Luna (of the moon) and the Pyramide del Sol (of the sun). The Pyramid del Sol looks like the mountain range behind it, and the Pyramide de la Luna hides the mountain range behind it. If you follow the link at the bottom, you can see what I described. After hiking the mountains, I stopped into the restaurant/bar just outside the pyramid area with 2 British people I had climbed with, Jared and Jill. I was telling them never to pay over 20 pesos, maybe 25 for a beer in Mexico, when I found out our beers were 30 apiece.
I had dinner with Jared and Jill, and Jill tried my pollo en mole (chicken in MOH-LAY sauce). Her response? "If it looks like a mole, and tastes like a mole, don't eat it!" I happen to love the stuff. After this, we hit the hostel bar, where the bartender wasn't shy about pouring tequila down patrons' throats, and where I wasn't shy about asking the DJ to (attempt to) dance. Not sure what got into me. Oh yes I am: it comes from maguey.
Then, the room started moving, and my chair was rocking, and I thought, "I haven't had much to drink, but maybe I should stop, this doesn't feel right." The motion got stronger, and I told Jill I shouldn't drink anymore because things were moving and swaying, and she said they were for her too, and we realized what was the cause: an earthquake!! We weren't at the epicenter, where it was a 6 or so I was told, so it was only a 3 or 4 for us, but quite an experience to have and better than my first earthquake when we thought someone had driven a car into the building.

DAY TWO: DOWNTOWN, INSECT EATING, MUSEUMS, AND LUCHA LIBRE
The second day, I took the hostel's free walking tour of the downtown historical area. I saw the history of Mexico as painted by Diego Rivera, explored the National Cathedral, and entered the fanciest Post Office I've ever encountered. We also stopped at a market with food and Mezcal from Oaxaca, and one of the items available for sampling was fried grasshoppers. I'm not sure why, but I decided, Why not try? With lime, of course. An interesting thing to try, but they just crunch and don't taste like much.
I explored the Fine Arts museums and the National Museum of Anthropology by myself for the rest of the afternoon and early evening, and then at the last minute I decided to go to the Lucha Libre, or Mexican wrestling, even though I hate wrestling, because it might make for an interesting cultural experience. There were no tickets left at the hostel so I went anyway and bought a ticket from a guy selling them outside on the street. The most interesting thing for me was that when the bikini-clad women came out, the men didn't go much more crazy than they do when my female companions and I walk down the street... I expected them to fall over themselves because they're so rude to us, and we're clothed and not model-esque. They offered the bikini girls a few whistles and catcalls, but nothing too insane. Kind of a relief.

DAY THREE: MYO TOUR AND A FAIRY TALE EVENING
On Saturday, I wanted to go on the hostel's Frida Kahlo/Xochimilco tour or the market and Mexican cooking expedition, but they were both postponed till Sunday and I was leaving midday Sunday. So, I decided to make my own tour. I somehow made it the kilometer or so from the metro stop to Frida's house with a map and without getting lost once. There was a lot of interesting memorabilia, including the bed she died in and many letters between her and Diego.
The second stop was to be Xochimilco, a canal network just outside the city. I'd seen pictures of the colorful boats and really wanted to go, so I started to follow the directions in the Lonely Planet guide. It sounded painless: metro to Taxquena, light rail to Xochimilco, taxi or walk or bus it to the ports. As it turned out, the metro to Taxquena was closed and they were running extremely crowded bus transportation, and the light rail had 15 or so stops before Xochimilco. The whole trip took over an hour. I arrived and started asking around about prices for boat/gondola rides, only to realize that most people rent them as a family of 10 or so and that the public/colectivo boats weren't running (or no one was going to miss business telling me where they were). I finally struck a deal with one guy/company for a half-hour tour for 100 pesos. I hadn't hit an ATM and didn't know where to find one, it was late in the afternoon and I had ballet tickets, so the 30 minutes would have to do.
Families take these boats out and ride for the afternoon or the day, connecting with vendor boats to buy corn, snacks, meals, or mariachi services. They also stop in parks, garden shops, and ice cream stands. It was loud and chaotic, colorful and exciting, much like life in Mexico.
I took a colectivo bus and the subway back to my hostel, and I had to hustle because I had bought tickets to that night's ballet, La Bella Durmiente, or Sleeping Beauty, to be held in the Chapultepec Castle and performed by the National Dance Company. You can imagine why I couldn't pass this fairy tale up, and it seemed like a great first ballet. I didn't realize that the castle is actually a CASTLE, I think built by the Spanish during their days of Mexican occupation, and it is up on a hill offering an amazing view of Mexico City. I didn't bring my camera because if they weren't allowed in I would have nowhere to leave it, so I most unfortunately do not have pictures of the ballet or the castle and its view! Qué lastima.
I was pleasantly surprised by the view, and unpleasantly surprised at the attire. I came in capris, a sleeveless shirt, and tennis shoes because I hadn't brought anything formal for two weeks with one backpack. I'm 99% sure I was the worst dressed person there. But, it was an incredible show, with a real castle as the backdrop, and I got my program autographed by three of the lead dancers. I woke up the next day with the feeling that it had just been a dream, and had to think back on specific moments to convince myself that I really had been there.
On the subway home, I felt a bug in my hair and tried to swat it out. As it turned out, it was something with a stinger, and it sunk its sharpness into my index finger. I managed to remove the stinger and watched my finger redden and swell as I rode home. I would much rather be stung by five jellyfish than whatever got me in the subway.

LAST HURRAH
Sunday morning, I tried to go to the Casa de Francia (la Maison de la France, the French Embassy) before leaving the city, but it was closed. I looked again at the address in the Lonely Planet, and it said Monday-Saturday. My disappointment made it a little easier to leave the city.

Check out pictures here: http://bu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2135884&l=0d5bf&id=904160

Bebe!

In posting the picture of Diana's niece, I realized I didn't post this picture when it was taken. I love the look on Nathan (the baby)'s face, but I especially love Amy's! It's so her...

Colombian Food

Above: fried plantains, rice, white beans, potatoes, beef, and pork. Essentially, the staples of Colombian food. Accompanied by jugo de maracuya.

Here are some things I ate, rated on a scale of 1-10 by a fussy eater (yours truly).

AJIACO
A corn, potato, and chicken stew/soup, made with amor by Diana's mamita. Probably very good in cold weather. Pretty good in mild weather, too!
Rating: 7-8, and this coming from a non-soup/stew eater.

AGUA DE PANELA
Panela, a sugar cane product, dissolved in hot water... what's not to like?
Rating: 10 (Yo amo azucar)

PAN HOJALDRADA
Typical at breakfast. Like a croissant or pain au chocolate without chocolate, thus:
Rating: 10

CHICHA
Alcoholic beverage made from corn. Sort of tastes like a thick and corny version of champagne... sort of. An acquired taste.
Rating: 7

CHURRASCO
Basically a medium-rare steak.
Rating: 9-10

TAMALES
I prefer the Mexican ones. The Colombian ones have a different consistency and lack mole sauce.
Rating: 6

CHOCOLATE (CALIENTE)
I hate hot chocolate from the package. Nice improvement here.
Rating: 9

BOCADILLO
At first bite, strange. Made from guava (guayabana?). Grows on you.
Rating: 9-10

AREQUIPE
Variation on caramel. Taste varies from good to kickin'. I prefer dulce de leche, though.
Rating: 9

BREVAS CON AREQUIPE

Figs with arequipe (see above). I only like Figs in the Newtons.

Rating: 5 (in Mexico, 5 is failing)

COW MILK, STRAIGHT UP
Whoa.
Rating: 6

CREPES AND WAFFLES

Colombian chain (as far as I know) of restaurants offering dinner and dessert crepes, ice cream, and combos of the two.

Rating: Off the charts

Below: Banana split from Crepes and Waffles. I also had their Nutella crepe, three flavors of ice cream, and a chicken broccoli crepe, on other occasions.

COLOMBIA

Note: The colors yellow, blue, and red have been used to title sections of my Colombian adventures because they are the three colors of Colombia's flag. As it was explained to me, the yellow symbolizes gold/wealth, the blue is for the waters of the Pacific and Atlantic coasts, and the red is for the blood shed for the nation.

Arrival
From the moment I arrived in Colombia until the moment I left, I was surrounded by hospitality from some of the friendliest and most welcoming people I've ever met. I am not just talking about Diana's mother, who was a more than amazing hostess! When I arrived at the Bogota El Dorado International Airport, Diana was nowhere to be found. I tried to stay awake, given that an hour on a table in the food court at the Mexico City airport was all the sleep I'd gotten the previous night. I had considered checking into the airport Hilton. Then I remembered I'm a poor teacher in Mexico.
Anyway, I did my best to put on the, "I know what I'm doing, I'm not lost" face.
"Are you lost? Are you waiting for someone?" The face is clearly flawed.
I turned my head and saw a girl about my age or a little older who looked concerned. I explained to her that I was waiting for a friend to pick me up, and she ended up letting me use her phone and offered to take me to her apartment, an offer which I declined even though she was probably harmless, and she asked me to call her once Diana came to get me so that she wouldn't worry! All this, from a stranger. I knew Diana was nice, but I hadn't yet realized she's pretty representative of Colombian people.

POLLO!
When Diana finally found me (she had been in another part of the airport), we had to look for her cunado (brother-in-law), and he was nowhere to be found. While waiting, I ran into what to my sleep-deprived mind was the COOLEST item ever: Chicken flavored Lays potato chips! Lays potato chips are called Sabritas in Mexico and come in lime and chile flavors, among other things, but not CHICKEN! Lays chips are also called Margaritas in Colombia, by the way. At the end of the trip I bought a package of 12 bags of chicken flavored chips, and I still have a good 6-8 of those if anyone wants to test them!

Lexical Differences
"Chido." "What?" "Cool." "We don't say that here." This was one of many times when my Mexican Spanish became a topic of conversation as Diana and I compared Mexican and Colombian vocabulary and slang. Below are a few differences. On the left, Mexican words; in the middle, their Colombian counterparts; on the right, rough English translations.
chido/padre -- chevere/bacano -- cool
wey -- marica -- dude
cuate -- socio -- friend/buddy
popote -- petillo -- straw
Que onda? -- Que hubo/Que mas? -- What's up/How's it going?
extranar -- hacer falta -- to miss something/someone
pilo/a --listo/a -- smart/clever/quick
Also, a backpack is a mochilla in Mexico but a maleta in Colombia, and a bolsa in Mexico (like a purse/handbag) is a mochilla in Colombia. I was a little confused.

Taking it to the street
Both Diana and her sister called me "pila", which means quick or smart, and they were referring to my streetsmarts, navigation skills, and common sense. I have to include that because my mom worries a whole lot about my safety abroad, partially because I have my fair share of blonde moments. So, Mom, I now know two people who think I manage pretty well out there in the big, bad world! :)
I tried telling Diana's sister that I wasn't so street saavy before living abroad, and that before I couldn't find my way out of a wet paper bag. The expression didn't translate so well.

Magic Passports
"Cuanto vale el pasaporte magico?" (How much does the magic passport cost?)
What?

On Tuesday, Diana took me to Salitre Magico, which roughly means Magic Forest, an amusement park in Bogota. The tickets to enter the park are called "magic passports," and I'm a cheeseball so I found that amusing. In short, we got rained on and then found out we hadn't bought rain insurance, AND that admission is more than half off on Wednesdays, the next day. But we still had fun, except when they wouldn't let us on the kiddie swings because we were over 1m45 tall. Looking at the seats, I don't know if it would have held my budonkudonk anyhow.
The photo: I thought it was an egg; it was a coffee bean.

Karaoke
One of my goals in life (and I'm not shy about it) is to do Karaoke on all six naturally inhabited continents. I've been told to do it on Antarctica too... I'll think about that after the first six are accomplished.
So when Diana asked me what I wanted to do when I came to Colombia, I told her, "Anything you plan is fine with me! But, I really want to do Karaoke!"
I can now say I have sung the Backstreet Boys on three continents.
Unfortunately, the song I practiced, Shakira's "Estoy Aqui", was not on the menu. Que lastima.

Salsa
If you've seen me dance -- okay, stop laughing now, -- if you've seen me dance, you can imagine how well it went when we went out dancing. Diana's sisters mistakenly thought I was bored when I didn't want to dance and tried very hard to convince me that I needed to dance. I wasn't bored; I was quite content watching. It was sort of like being in Germany where everyone speaks fluent German and all you can muster is Guten tag (Hello) or Wie schmecken die bonen? (How do the beans taste?) I've worked up to the point where my mind and my hips know the rhythm, but my *#$%* feet are still lost in translation. So I was content just observing until Andrés came along.
"Bailemos?" (Shall we dance?)
"No puedo bailar." (I can't dance.)
"Si, puedes." (Yes you can.)
"No, no sé bailar." (No, I don't know how to dance.)
"Te enseno." ("I'll teach you.")
I gave up and took the floor. Andrés was patient, but also a smooth talker and I may have found this charming in my younger years (not that I'm ancient, but you get the idea). Now, though, I had to stiffle laughter when he said, "My friend wants to go to another bar. But he's not dancing with a beautiful blonde girl." Right, Andres. Strap on your boots, the mierda's getting deep.
We danced a couple of songs, I assaulted Andres' feet, I went back to my friends, and he came and got me to dance again a little while later. Masochist.
Just before we were going to leave, a visibly drunk man came and sat at our table. I understood the words he was saying, but I had NO IDEA what in the world he was talking about. I started doubting my Spanish, till Diana told me she couldn't understand a thing he was saying, either.

Lovin' It
On Wednesday, Diana and I started calling the airport daily to try to change my flight. I was loving Colombia and didn't care if I ever left; but staying an extra few days would have to be enough. They didn't have availability until we called Saturday morning, hours before my departure, and found out that something opened up for Wednesday and that I could get four more days of Bogota.

Sights
In addition to the historical/downtown area, the bohemian Candelaria/Chorro area, many malls, and the artisan markets (see photo) of Bogota itself, we left the city Friday to go to the Catedral de Sal (Salt Cathedral) in Zipaquira. More info on it here: http://www.catedraldesal.gov.co/
On the way, we went to Panaca, a "Safari" that had rare animals such as cows, goats, and dogs. It was funny because I didn't grow up far from farms, and almost none of the animals there were new to me, but my Bogota-dwelling friends were impressed. There were two highlights: milking a cow (and then tasting the milk, blech) and holding a baby goat that had been born that morning! Oh, and the free snack that went with the milk. I love snacks.



Bebé!
If you know me, you know that I don't pass up the opportunity to hold a baby when it arises. So I really took to Diana's niece, Mariana, and she apparently took to me, falling asleep on my shoulder. I dozed myself for a bit, and Diana wanted a picture but I woke up.


Bittersweet Ending
I was really bummed to have to leave Colombia and Diana, who is a wonderful person and a great friend. I also knew that leaving Colombia meant my vacation was almost over. So because of that, coupled with Diana's mother's bear hug at the airport, I was teary-eyed as I left and headed for security. I rarely cry anymore, so I was really surprised that I got choked up leaving Colombia and Diana.
I had managed to supress the waterworks, kept it in, and then got my Colombian beer confiscated by security because it was over 100mL. Now THAT'S something worth crying over. I refrained, though.
As I mentioned, I felt incredibly welcomed by everyone I met in Colombia, right up to the travelers I met in the airport gate as I was leaving. They were a woman, her sister, and her husband, and they ended up giving me their address for when I come back to Colombia! Talk about hospitality.
I know I'll return to "Locombia", and hopefully soon. Di and I have plans to visit the Zona Cafetera (where they grow coffee), Las Amazonas (that should be self-explanatory), the coast, etc. etc. I liked it so much I could even see teaching there for a little while. Who knows.

I almost forgot...
There were two comical (after the fact) run-ins or would-be run-ins with the Colombian police. First, Diana's brother-in-law got locked in the ATM. We tried to flag cops down, and they weren't stopping. Finally Edwin got out, and we got back in the car and drove away. Diana's sister, Edwin's wife, said something about the cops not following us or not being able to know it was him trapped in the ATM, and I thought, it's not his fault he got stuck in the ATM. I found out later that he knew something about wiring and CUT two wires to make the alarm stop so he could get out. And that is why we dashed out of the area so fast.
The second interesting police incident happened during one of my last nights in Bogota. Diana's friend and her friend's brother were driving us home, and we randomly got pulled over by the cops. Apparently this isn't uncommon. They asked the brother (I can't remember his name) to get out, they patted him down, and then asked for all of our IDs and if we were all citizens. I only had my teacher ID and a wet copy of my passport on me. They told the cop that one of us was American and my stomach did a flip-flop. I was certain that my citizenship was going to cause a problem, but au contraire, once they heard this there were no further questions and we were sent on our way. Still can't explain it.

I believe you can see the rest of my Colombia pictures here...
http://bu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2132561&l=5812f&id=904160