And we'll never be worlds apart...

I love New York. 

I love that there is always someone passing through the city from one corner of the world to another.

When your friends are thousands of miles away, it's reassuring to be at the crossroads which bring so many together.

Planning many, many reunions over the next couple weeks, both expected and unexpected.

The day is fresh, I'm coming home again...

Leave Saturday, May 23, 2009

Delta AirLines 2894

Depart 8:25am New York, NY (LGA)

Arrive 10:30am Minneapolis, MN (MSP)

Delta AirLines 2787

Depart 1:10pm Minneapolis, MN (MSP)

Arrive: 2:14pm Madison, WI (MSN)

Return Monday, May 25, 2009

Delta AirLines 6630

Depart 4:10pm Madison, WI (MSN)

Arrive: 7:30pm New York, NY (LGA)

travel tales

Mexico was a breath of fresh air, literally and figuratively.  While I longed to stay longer and explore more of the country, the vacation was relaxing and rejuvenating.  I spent some quality time with my best friend, drinking plenty of margaritas and mojitos alongside the pool, soaking up the sun.  I spent hours reading, writing, and pondering whether or not it was time for me to move back to Latin America or elsewhere.  No rash decisions have been made, but I appreciated the time out of my comfort zone to reevaluate several things in my life... as I usually do when abroad.

We spent one day on an excursion that including zip-lining (SO much fun) through the jungle, mountain biking, snorkeling and climbing/swimming through crazy caves.  Our fellow travelers, as well as our tour guide kept us thoroughly entertained.  Of course, I managed to fall while in the caves and bang up my leg on the rocks, as horror thoughts of knee injuries interfering with my marathon training flashed through my mind.  It had swelled up pretty badly by late afternoon when we got to the hotel.  One of the bartenders creatively fashioned an ice-pack out of seran wrap (that worked surprisingly well) for me, but I spent most of that evening chilling on our balcony rather than salsa dancing.

One of the highlights of the trip was befriending much of the hotel staff.  As is common with many all-inclusive resorts such as the one where we were staying, the majority of the guests were gringos who spoke not a word of Spanish and who had no real interest in experiencing anything that might resemble the true Mexican culture because it might shake up their perceptions a little too much.  It was amusing to see the reactions of the resort staff and our tour guides when they realized I spoke Spanish - often when I would overhear a conversation that they had not intended for us to hear.  

(ellos) Mira sus oyos bellos.  Ellas son mis novias.

(yo, sonriendo) Lo siento.  Creo que no.

(one employee to another) oh, look at their beautiful eyes.  They are my girlfriends.

(me, smiling) Sorry.  I don't think so.

They were usually caught completely off-guard and would laugh in astonishment, immediately striking up a conversation, asking where I had learned Spanish, what I had done in Colombia, if I was married/had a boyfriend (some things never change when it comes to Latino men, regardless of where they are from), and what I thought of Mexico.  I chatted with the driver who took us to and from the airport about how Hurricane Wilma had impacted Cancun and the small town along the Guatemalan border that he was from.  The guide on our excursion asked about different travel adventures that I had gone on in Colombia, most notably in the Amazon.  We shared some interesting comparisons on two countries that have had such a different experience with tourism.  

The resort had live music at night, which alternated between mariachi and other very traditional  Mexican music and my personal favorite...salsa.  The fact that I knew how to dance may have been even more surprising than the fact that I could speak Spanish.  Songs that I knew by heart, many of them Colombian, which made me feel so at home, in this country that I had never before visited, as I spun around the dance floor and took deep breaths of salty, Caribbean air.

Come Monday, it'll be alright...

Thoughts of sun and sand and tropical cocktails have been getting me through the week.  Possibly even more exciting than the idea of chilling on the beach with my best friend is the idea that I will be back in Latin America next week.  I'm yearning to speak Spanish, explore the Mayan ruins of the Yucatan Peninsula that border Belize, and feel myself surrounded by the passion of Latino culture, music, food, and hospitality.  

My passport has once again been gathering dust for too long and I have not added a new stamp since I journeyed to Turkey, a year and a half ago. There are several tentative travel adventures which lay ahead of me this year... my nomad instincts are kicking in again, and I couldn't be more excited to jump on that plane next week and head to Mexico.

hoy es un dia de aquellos en que miro hacia el cielo...

I rarely make impulse purchases. But I haven't left the country in nearly a year, and it has been over a year and a half since I have stepped foot in a new country.  Spring is around the corner, but I'm restless for the warm, tropical Caribbean breezes that surrounded me when I lived in Barranquilla.  

I think I just bought a ticket to Mexico.  And I leave in less than 2 weeks :)

13.1 is the new 26.2

As this new race series contends, 13.1 isn't half of anything.  I am going to make 2009 my year to conquer this distance, which has become the latest trend in the running world.  

After taking the past few months off, more or less, I've allowed my body to finally recover from the grueling training leading up to San Francisco.  I've enjoyed long easy runs just for the sake of rediscovering the love of the sport, and I'm psyched to start seriously training again after the holidays.  

I gave huge props to my two amazing mentors for making my first season with TNT and my first marathon experience what it was, which is why I was happy to find out a few days ago that I was selected to be one of the mentors for the Summer 2009 season.  I had been debating which race to run (San Diego, Anchorage or Lake Placid), and while a big deciding factor was definitely travel costs, I also selected Lake Placid because they offered a Half in addition to the Full.  The nature of this race makes it still an incredible physical challenge, but obviously one with a much faster recovery time, meaning that you can run them much closer together without needing a substantial recovery period after (aka you can still walk after you cross the finish line).  I can also start to approach this distance with a more rigorous time goal in mind rather than just aiming to cross the finish line.

And so I'm off to the two-time Winter Olympic site this coming June.  Our training season starts January 28, but planning with the other mentors and coaches starts shortly after the holidays.  I'm excited not only to start planning fundraising and member engagement ideas, but to hopefully inspire some newbie marathoners, as my mentors did for me.

Hopefully I will be able to plan my training to include a few Halfs throughout the season so that I am fully ready to race in Lake Placid.  Toying with the idea of the Virginia Beach Shamrock Marathon or the Little Rock Marathon at the midway point of the season.  Memorial Day weekend just may be time for a trip back to the Midwest to chill on the Terrace, visit the Farmers Market and run the Madtown Half around that gorgeous city a few weeks before the big TNT race upstate.

There may still be an international full marathon in the works for later in the year, but there are many details to be worked out before that one is good to go...

many the miles...

I have never,  by any traditional definitions, been an athlete.  I did not play sports in high school, I hated running the four laps around the track in gym class for the presidential physical fitness mile test, and I only started casually running when I got to college in order to meet new people in my dorm and keep off the freshman-15.

Today, I completed my first marathon.  I wish there were words to describe the experience.  After I crossed the finish line of the Nike Women's Marathon, and received my Tiffany's finisher necklace, handed to me in a little green box by an incredibly sexy fireman, I burst into tears.  

Leading up to this weekend, it has been important to me and all my teammates that we were not only training for such a huge physically demanding test of endurance, but that we were doing so with Team in Training, supporting others who have fought much more difficult battles than we were trying to overcome.  I was very lucky that I did not have as close of a personal connection to the cause as many others do.  But it wasn't until yesterday that any of us realized just how much we were a part of something bigger and how much all of our efforts had impacted the lives of others.

After hanging out with Jenna all afternoon, at a kick-ass concert in Golden Gate Park, I headed back downtown for our team meeting.  The 220+ runners and walkers who had flown out from NYC gathered to share one story after another that brought tears to my eyes.  Stories of parents, brothers, sisters, spouses, children who had lost their battle to Leukemia, Lymphoma or multiple Melanoma.  Inspiring stories of survivors.  Testimonies from teammates whom I had never known were survivors.  I had trained with them all season, they looked just as healthy as the rest of us, were often the ones leading the pack, and never let on the horror stories of chemo, radiation, and years of sickness they had gone through in order to get to where they are today.

Emotions were running high as we all headed over to the pasta party.  One of my mentors had mentioned earlier that walking into the dinner was the best part.  I had no idea what she could possibly be talking about until we entered the convention center.  The mass of coaches, mentors, and honored teammates from around the US wearing purple and green (TNT colors), applauding and cheering for us, many decorated in crazy costumes, was overwhelming.  We passed under a huge ballon wreath and went down the two story-high escalators and the cheering continued.  Our beloved NYC coaching team and LLS staff were blowing whistles and clapping for each of us, huge smiles plastered across their faces.  I have never received such a heart-felt, genuine welcome and feeling of gratitude in my life.  

Thousands of athletes, family and friends filed in behind us; it seemed as if they would never end.  The ginormous hall filled with people laughing and crying and I realized just how incredible this organization is.  We were finally able to meet Katie's brother, a 22-year old cancer survivor, who we have heard about all season.  The speakers were phenomenal, congratulating everyone on their dual (fundraising & running) accomplishments and connecting everything so directly back to the cause.  I was touched that such well-known people in the running community, including writer John "The Penguin" Bingham, and the first-ever Olympic gold medalist in the women's marathon, Joan Benoit Samuelson, were the honored speakers for the evening, as well as an incredible survivor story from TNT Ohio.  I can't even begin to describe the effect that it had on all of us.  Everything was so well done.

The race was without a doubt the most physically challenging thing that I have ever done.  I ran the first 12 miles of the course with two of my close friends who were doing the half, until the course split, they headed for their finish line at the 13.1 mile marker, and I was on my own from there.  I knew that while the worst of the hills were behind me; it would be all mental from that point, pushing myself to keep running another few hours.  There were times throughout the course when all I could think was that I was crazy, that the human body was not designed to run 26.2 miles at once.  My energy level stayed high, but my hips started to ache and my knee felt like it was being twisted into a pretzel. There were times that I was running slower than I usually power walk around Manhattan.  I had synced my iPod with a playlist that reminded me of so many important times and inspirational people in my life which have led me to where I am today.  Tom Petty, U2, Juanes, Fonseca, Daddy Yankee, Big and Rich, Gwen Stefani, Bon Jovi, Rascall Flatts, Madhatters and all of the other classic 610 and Bros. songs that remind me of my roommates and best friends. That is what kept me running, kept me believing in myself until I crossed the finish line. 

Tina met me a little before mile 25 to encourage me and run me in when I could barely move my legs anymore. Ramon jumped on the course for the final stretch. Over and over throughout the season, I have realized just how lucky our team is to have a coach like him - he is one of the most amazing people I have ever met.  He was blowing a whistle and jumping up and down in front of us, making me laugh through the pain.   As he came up alongside of us, he looked us in the eye, and in all seriousness, told that he was proud of us and that it had been an honor.  Then he told me to go cross the finish line, for I had earned it, and this was my moment.

This weekend has been like coming down off the high of an @ conference, where you share a life-changing experience with a group of incredibly inspiring individuals, and try as you may, you can't fully describe it to others the way that you want to in order for them to understand exactly what you went through.

I hope that this is one of those experiences in life where you subconsciously forget just how painful it really was, because I definitely do not want this to be my first and last marathon.

Go the distance....

There are experiences that are impossible to describe when you are right in the middle of them because the emotions are too high and the sensory overload is overwhelming.  I have been training for this week for the past five months; indeed, it has taken a very central point in my life and given me a clear sense of focus in which to channel my energy when everything else seemed to be crumbling down around me.  It still doesn't seem real that by lunchtime on Sunday, providing everything goes well, I will have finished my first marathon.

A couple of the other girls and I flew out here earlier this week.  We have enjoyed every minute in San Fran - cruising around Napa and Sonoma wine tasting, touring Alcatrez at night, carbo-loading to the max (sourdough bread anyone?), and catching up with some dear friends.  The city has Team in Training Marathon spirit more than I could have ever imagined, the wall of the Niketown store in Union Square is covered with the names of all the participants who will be running in the world's largest women's marathon this weekend, a tribute to the $18 million that we have all raised for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.

This incredible journey has all been worth it.  

It's the eye of the tiger, cream of the fight...

"Let me tell you something you already know.  The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows.  It is a very mean and nasty place and it will beat you to you knees and keep you there permanently if you let it.  You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life.  But it ain't how hard you hit; it's about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward.  How much you can take, and keep moving forward.  That's how winning is done.  Now if you know what you're worth, then go out and get what you're worth.  But you gotta be willing to take the hit, and not pointing fingers saying you ain't where you are because of him, or her, or anybody.  Cowards do that and that ain't you.  You're better than that!"

 - Rocky Balboa

The traveling month continues, as my running buddies and I road trip over to Pennsylvania, where I will be celebrating my 25th birthday running the Philly Half Marathon tomorrow.  One month until the Cali marathon that all of this preparation has been building up to, one month until the real deal, the true test...

Beantown highlights...

Syd and I hit the road, driving through the northeast, a beautiful region of the country which I have not yet explored nearly to the extent that I would like.  The one and only time I was in Boston before was a cold, rainy winter day that did not do the city justice at all.  While NY is still much more my scene, I did find Beantown charming.  

Catching up with some old friends brought me back to the heart of what @ has always been for me - amazing, truly incredible people.  There are no words to describe the friendships that I have formed through the org over the past few years, and after everything that has transpired over the past couple months, it's reassuring to know that they will far outlast our short time in the org itself.

pig heart at the mediocre restaurant in chinatown... disappointing. tasted more like cold cuts.

travel buddies!!

oh, and another highlight of the trip - lunch at GOOGLE.  yes, I'm a dork.

I've never wanted something rational...

Whenever things in my life seem to be falling apart, the only answer is to escape.  Travel seems to cure all worries and stress, allows me to find the balance that has been missing in my life.  These adventures usually tend to lead me across the sea to foreign lands, but this time I'm going to be taking advantage of my time off to explore my own country.  The next few weeks will include some quality time with a few very dear friends, hanging out in some cities that I am well overdue for a visit.  

Destination numero uno: BOSTON.

Let the road trips begin.

running, running, as fast as we can...

I ran with the entire world last night.  Running in New York is unique.  Running with the rest of the globe is a once in a lifetime experience.

More than one million runners lined up from Melbourne to Moscow to Johannesburg to Vancouver.  2,964,921 miles were covered.  We ran around the equator of the earth nearly 120 times.

As we lined up behind the shotgun on Randall Island, athletes were lining up in Asia, in Shanghai and Singapore, Seoul and Taipai.  My shoes hit the pavement in sync with those in Mexico City and Montevideo.  

We pushed the hills, that can't even begin to compare to the inclines in Quito and Mt. Fuji.  From Warsaw to Madrid, Rome to London, Istanbul to Munich, European runners clocked their 10k bests.  

As the time zones past from the East Coast to the West, thousands crossed the finish line in NYC, then Chicago and Austin, finally Portland and LA.  South of the equator, thousands ran through the metropolises of Caracas, Sao Paolo, Lima, and Buenos Aires.  I smiled a little more, thinking of those running in my other homes - Bogota and Paris.  

The average finishing time for New York was 1:02:04.  I clocked in at 1:04:41.  I am a New York runner.

Nike runners, we made history today.  We were part of something bigger, a Human Race, a global community of athletes that doesn't require record breaking Olympic times.  I've never been so inspired by a race as I was last night, amidst the sea of red.  I have never had so much energy crossing the finish line as I waved to the cameras.  The post-race concert concluded with fireworks - a fitting finale to an international celebration.

I'm Streetsmart, I've got New York City Heart...

One year ago today.

I landed at JFK with two suitcases about to burst and more carry-on luggage than I could possibly carry. I had gotten a job offer no more than five days prior, packed up my life in Colombia, and flew out of Bogota the evening before my visa expired, knowing that when I woke up on my red-eye flight the next morning, the US would once again be home after a year abroad. It was time to move on. There were new adventures to be had. I knew little about what lay before me, but I knew that I wanted it more than anything.

The past twelve months have been one hell of a ride. This little town of Manhattan and I have learned to get along pretty well. This marks summer numero tres of living in this city. Summers of outdoor movies, tanning in Sheeps Meadow, street fairs, happy hours on rooftop bars, getting caught in intense summer thunderstorms, lazy afternoons spent wandering through the Village.  Summers where this is what's rolled into an average weekend....

Meat Market = fittingly located in the Meat-Packing District where fashion is edgy and it's ALL about who you know. This is THE place to see and be seen, where the right connections can get you sushi topped with caviar and a table full of drinks that are replenished before you even notice they are finished.  The music was hot, we danced the night away, bumped into a well-known AIESEC alum...this city is not so large after all.

PRIDEFEST = 100% undeniable proof that there are a LOT of incredibly attractive, SEXY men in this city, with unbelievable bodies that they aren't afraid to show off. It's also proof that they are ALL gay. My roommates and I watched the parade this weekend and decided that it was just a mean tease to all women who live here.  As if men walking down 5th Avenue in g-strings wasn't entertainment enough, the sudden bursts of rain made the show even more hilarious.

OLE OLE, OLE OLE Without even watching the EuroCup finals on Sunday, I knew the instant that the game was done and who was the champion.  I walked through the East Village to meet a couple friends for dinner and heard shouts of VIVA ESPANA, people pouring out of sports bars with red and gold flags draped around them, jumping up and down with the same amount of sheer passion that you would expect to find on State Street if the Badgers had just won the Rose Bowl.

The rhythm of the city
But once you get it down
Then you can own this town
You can wear the crown

everytime i hear that song, i go back...

Growing up in a flat world of globalization, travelers of our generation have had to deal with the "perception of Americans abroad" when they travel to other countries. Coming from a culture that arguably has the most direct influence - positive and negative - on the rest of the world, just about all foreigners seem to have formed an opinion. While I've never experienced any severe anti-American sentiment, there were definitely times that I felt hostility when I was in Europe.

Colombia was different. At the risk of making a broad generalization, everyone I met was so incredibly warm to Americans. Many had never met someone from the States before and could hardly fathom the idea that someone from the US would actually want to come to their country, a country whose reputation has traditionally been tainted by negative images.

On one particularly memorable bus ride across the country, I caught the attention of a fellow passenger by reading the autobiography of the country most famous author and listening to reggaeton music, acting like traveling from Barranquilla to Bogota was a perfectly normal thing to do - which, by that time, for me, it was. We chatted for awhile, he complimented my Spanish, and I must have given him my contact info, although I hadn't remembered doing so until I received this email yesterday...

Hola Sarah:

Yo soy la persona que conociste, cuando viajabas de Barranquilla a Bogota, via terrestre hace como dos años...cuando leias la biografia de Garcia Marquez.

No te habia escrito, porque estaba viviendo en Italia y el papel donde me escribiste tu e-mail se me habia quedado en Colombia, donde me encuentro en la actualidad.

Estoy en Bogota, si vuelves por aqui, escribeme...

Mucha suerte y que que sigas leyendo los libros de Gabo.

HASTA PRONTO.....

RICARDO

(translation: Hi Sarah, I'm the person that you met, when you were traveling from Barranquilla to Bogota, overland, about two years ago... when you were reading the biography of Garcia Marquez. I hadn't written to you because I was living in Italy, and the paper where you wrote your email was left in Colombia, where I found it now. I'm in Bogota, if you ever return, let me know. Good luck and keep reading Gabo's [nickname for Garcia Marquez] books.)

For some reason this email touched me immensely - the fact that such a simple conversation almost two years ago left such an impression on someone.

I wanna go where the wind calls my name...

But if you ever come back around
This sleepy old town
Promise me you'll stop in
To see an old friend
And until then...

All these places I remember, with lovers and friends...

Over the past year, I have come home for the weddings of two incredibly important people in my life. Last November, one of my Paris girls got married. This weekend, it was one of my roommates.

In a day, I pulled on my running shoes, retraced my footsteps down the lakeshore path to Picnic Point, up Observatory Drive, where I paused on Liz Waters hill to take in the view of the lake, before finishing strong down Bascom. Jack and I went to Barriques, my old coffee shop on the Square, and sauntered through the farmers' market for breakfast, running into two old friends on the way.

The wedding was picture perfect, planned to the minute, as everyone joked about, knowing that Emily would have it no other way. Our group came back together and the years that have passed slipped away. I caught up with my roommates' parents, who wanted to know all about my crazy adventures around the world that they had heard about. Lunch at Amy's and beers on the terrace until reception time. It's good to be back. Wisconsin has been flooding so much over the past week that the piers off the terrace are nearly submerged in water. We ducked into the Rathskeller when the rain started, refilling our pitchers of Spotted Cow and catching up.

At the Monona Terrace, the tears gathered in my eyes a few times, but didn't start to fall until Lauren's speech when the memories of our college days came flooding back to us who had shared such priceless times together. We danced the night away, as our group is known to do, much like the countless nights that we spent at Bros. over the years. I know of no place other than Madison where a DJ will get as astounding of a response for playing Build Me Up Buttercup, House of Pain's Jump Around, and a certain polka, that ends with a resounding When you say Wisconsin, you've said it all.

Wisconsin. What more is there to say? I looked around at the faces I knew so well and realized that these were the people who made my experience at Madison what it was. We grew up together, shared the experience that brought us to where we all are today - living our dreams, as art teachers in Minneapolis, accountants in Chicago, engineers, med students. I remember watching these people struggling though the courses in pursuit of their dreams and realized that we have all made it. Melissa joked that I won the Most Traveled Award for the distance I had flown to come back to the wedding. We both knew that it applied not only to this weekend. Those were my dreams. This is the place where I learned how to make them come true, these are the people who stood by me. They mean more to me than they could possibly know.

We moved the party to a bar near on the Square. I paused as we walked toward State Street to take in the sight of the capitol dome illuminated against the black sky. The evening finished with a slice of pizza at Ian's. Because when you're in Madison, is there really any other way to finish off the night?

Madtown or bust...

It has been way too long since I spent some quality time back in the heart of Wisconsin, chilling on the terrace over a pitcher of Spotted Cow, too long since the Chadbourne girls were reunited, too long since I escaped Up North to spend the day doing nothing but jet skiing and water skiing and catching up with my best friend.


I'll be back in a week.

I know a place where we can dance the whole night away...

...

They love to tell you stay inside the lines, But something's better on the other side...

Back home.


Or something like that.

just looking out your window at the world outside...

The time is winding down and I am already dreading tomorrow morning...

Ay ay ay aaaaaay que bonita es esta vida
y aunque no sea para siempre
si la vivo con mi gente
es bonita hasta la muerte
con aguardiente y tequila..

When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am...

Picking up with the gringos right where we left off has been one of the best parts of this vacation. My Paris girls and I always talked about how it would never be the same to go back to Paris without the same people there to go to "our" places together. Exactly the opposite is true of Colombia. Time stopped and my life here was waiting for me to slip right back into it. With only a few notable exceptions, everyone is still here, life goes on as it always has. I know it won't stay like this forever, but it will take more than a year for things to fade away completely.

I often fear that living abroad will turn into a dream once I return home and I will forget too many of the little parts of the experience that mattered the most. I am asked about Colombia on almost a daily basis, but usually need to sum it up with an overall generalization about what I great experience I had, what a beautiful country it is, how amazing the people are. Coming back here has reminded me of all the little nuances of the city and the culture - good and bad - that took a year to comprehend and to cement the bond that I have with this country. The memories weren't tucked away quite as far as I had feared.

Off to Bogota, where more amazing people await me, more priceless memories promise to be made...because it's Bogota, where everything has always begun and ended. Colombia needs to learn the beauty of low-cost airfare. My ticket from Barranquilla-Bogota cost as much as NYC-Chicago. This country is getting more and more expensive.

Feel the beat of the rhythm of the night
Dance until the morning light
Forget about the worries on your mind
You can leave them all behind
Feel the beat of the rhythm of the night...

what we had was so much more...

I woke up early from the hammock in Melissa's apartment, where I slept very well last night, rather than in the guest room on the rock hard bed that was actually in my apartment last year. The sun is shining over Barranquilla and I look out the windows to the view of the Magdalena River to one side, the Prado neighborhood - where all my friends still live - our frutera, our pool to the other.

By this time last year, I left, wanting so much more. My living situation was far from perfect and I felt restless, wanting to be challenged professionally in a way that I had never found with teaching. I loathed the routine of this city, where everyone knew everyone, our options for going out were limited, and I had all but run out of money to travel. It was time to shake things up. I was ready to move on, first to Bogota, then to New York.

I know that leaving was the right decision at the time, that I had reached a point where I was no longer happy, but it's so easy to come back and wonder why the hell I gave this all up. Countless facebook messages and emails over the past week have included the words "welcome home". I have let myself forget that this is only a vacation. A weekend at Tayrona with the gringos isn't vacation, it's just what we do. Este es mi vida.... este FUE mi vida. Melissa, Patrycja, Bartira and I went out for chuzo last night and joked, as we always do, about the oximoron that is comida rapida [fast food] in this culture. I have an easy day ahead of me of going to the spa for a facial and mani/pedi, buying a plane ticket to Bogota, coffee at Juan Valdez, dance class at BodyTech, and cooking dinner with friends. That was my life. I miss this culture, where things move slowly and easily. I am torn between two homes of the extreme, and right now I dread going back "home" to New York.

paradise, it ain't hard to find
just looking out your window at the world outside
paradise, it ain't far away
here in my head it's just another day
here in paradise

Who says you can't go home...

VISA. It's everywhere you want to be.

except Colombia.

Trying to buy an airplane ticket to get from Barranquilla to Bogota is proving difficult now that I no longer have a Colombian bank account and major credit cards don't sync with online payment systems here. ohhhh Colombia.

Being back here is so easy. So much easier than I ever expected. I know the system, the little intricasies of the culture that took a year to figure out, but that really are second nature. My espanol has come back without any effort.

I missed a culture where things are a little crazy, where you have to argue with the taxi driver to avoid getting screwed over. It doesn't matter that it's a difference of 1.000 pesos (~$.50), it's the principle of things, knowing how the system works and letting them know that you know how things roll around here.

The inside jokes have stood the test of time. I say pasame la botella and the gringos understand the reference. We hiked into Tayrona and I can anticipate the twists and turns of the path, where we need to hike over rocks and how much longer until the trail will open up to the gorgeous spread of ocean in front of us. When it comes to "domicilio-ing", I open the phone book and recognize all our favorite restaurants. It's all so familiar.

Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me...

No puedo creer que estoy aqui. Parece como un sueno. Estoy buscando cambios pero hasta ahora todo esta exactamente lo mismo.

I stepped off the plane and smiled to see the Colombian military and Tigo ads. It had been raining just before my flight landed, evident from all the roads in the south which were flooded, children splashing around in the mud. All of the little things that are so ordinary, and that make Barranquilla the pure beautiful craziness that it is struck me in the taxi ride from the airport into the city. I could do nothing more or less than soak it all in. Via 40, Exito, moto taxis, Junior jerseys, Aguila, donkey pulled carts of fruit, the gaudy brightly colored city buses, banderas, piles of rubble from broken down buildings that have probably sat there for years and will not be cleared away for years to come.

I walked passed my old apartment, stopped for juice at the frutera, and headed straight to the Prado to go for a swim. The hotel staff looked as if they had seen a ghost. The amount of time that the gringos spend chilling there put us on a first name basis with most of them. Colombian hospitality never fails as they told me how I had been away for awhile but it was good to see me back. I jumped in the deep end, clearing my mind of everything going on back home. I lay out my towel to soak up the rays alongside the pool and realized that I couldn’t remember the last time that I could PAUSE as much as I do in Colombia.

Stepping back into my old environment immediately made me realize just how drastically I have changed over the past year. The longer that I am back in the States, I find myself feeling more and more like a New Yorker…questioning if I could ever live anywhere else again, now that I have grown accustomed to having the world at my fingertips. Yet Colombia still holds a spell over me that I can't escape. Barranquilla is different from New York in every way possible. Two cities, on two different coasts, each defined by a drastically different type of chaos. Each presents an extreme foil of the other; the me I want to be is searching for the balance between the two.

The emotions are swirling, I try to digest them, and the only one that I can clearly identify is happiness, pure and simple.

Reflections of coming back will continue to develop…

Off to dinner at Crepes and Waffles!

and eventually our theories couldn't explain it all...

Being pulled from so many directions that it's hard to know where to turn my head...

Waiting for the dust to settle, not knowing where the chips will land...

Speaking for myself and others around me, it's hard to take it on faith, stay strong, make the decisions that are tough as hell, but that you know in your heart are right. I knew months ago that I needed a vacation to return to Latin America, relax and refocus, but I never could have predicted just how perfect the timing would be. So much has come full circle over the past year. With everything that has been going on, a few days at Tayrona, cut off from civilization, should hopefully allow me to look within and figure out my next move, determine my priorities, personally and professionally.

Another time, another place...

A year of daydreaming about the Caribbean is quickly approaching reality. Containing my excitement is impossible. Counting down is inevitable.

I can't wait. It seems like we will have a nice group going with us [to Tayrona] so I hope that is ok. That's what you get for sending the mass email ;) Anyway I am counting the days.
-Melissa

We will all be at the airport waiting for you with maizena!
-Chris

Concentrating on work has never been more important. Or more difficult.

It sucks to know that travelers to Colombia can't even rely on Lonely Planet, the only major travel guidebook publisher to have published a guide to Colombia. The author admitted to having never visited the country and having plagiarized information. It's no wonder that we always noticed significant gaps in information about lodging, transportation, restaurants, and more that was common knowledge amongst travelers around the country...

strawberry fields forever...

It's the first day of spring to hit 70 degrees. "Lunch at Shake Shack" was the first thought on everyone's mind when we got to the office this morning. Our office and every other office in central Manhattan. The hour long line was completely worth it.
Spontaneous visit from one of my Paris girls tomorrow.
Just signed up for an awesome half marathon training program...hopefully kicking my ass into shape in time to run the Nike NYC Half Marathon this summer. Our March Madness flip cup and quarters tournament raised over $1400 for this same organization a few weeks ago.
And Colombia is getting closer and closer. Chris warned me that they are all going to greet me at the airport with maizena. ohmygoodness.

en Barranquilla me quedo...

The stupid frustrations I have been feeling lately mean nothing when I know that this is waiting for me in just less than 4 weeks...



...

I'm not done with my traveling, so let's run...

Why American Airlines rocks my world:

NYC-Barranquilla. Bogota-NYC. May 2-11.

A much needed vacation, a puente spent at Tayrona, some sun, salsa, postobon manzana, chuzo desgrenado, AIESEC Colombia 50th Anniversary celebration, hanging out with some of my favorite people in the world...all for a grand total of $474.

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas...

...but the highlights included some kick-ass team bonding and intense planning, long drives through the deserts of Nevada, multiple visits to Denny's and Starbucks, watching the sun set from 800 feet above the city, VIP treatment at Dick's in the Excaliber, rock-paper-scissors, early morning coffee at the Venetian after partying like a rockstar at the LAX club in the Luxor until 9am, cruising the Strip in our Malibu, blackjack, slots, and much more that words cannot describe...

Vegas is a bizzare and unique city, a sensory overload. My first experience here will go down as a weekend to remember ... I'm sure it won't be my last.

INSPIRED.

Besides passion, that is the one word that I have always associated with the organization and the people involved. We throw around the catch phrases - challenge your world view, impact others - and people honestly never cease to amaze me in the way that they carry this out to the fullest.

Nomadlife has always been my comfort zone, a connection to those who I have considered to be an inspiration in my life, whether they were across the table from me in good old Helen C or thousands of miles away. Lately, the discussions that have been going on across several blogs, the explosion of comments, linking to others' opinions, full of as much emotion as critical, strategic thinking is incredible (the nomadlife-as-a-coffeeshop conversation has been sparked).

It has been over a year and a half since I was involved on a local level and it blows my mind to think of what my community has achieved since I graduated. The organizational conversations that we engaged in around recruitment, member criteria, growth, and integration were intense, but nowhere close to the level that currently exists.

Madison has always pushed harder, farther, faster. Work hard, play hard was not something that you merely said, it was a way of living. The leaps that have been taken in just a few generations are phenomenal and I tingle with pride every time I hear someone around the country looking to Madtown as a leader in our organization.

Amongst all the comments that I have skimmed, as I have spent half of my work-day following this discussion, one stood out - most student/non-profit organizations would kill to have this dilemma. I am excited to see where further discussion leads and how other communities across the nation can look to each of you as an example to follow.

It is challenging sometimes to play an extremely different role in the organization, one that is much less community driven, and retain that same level of passion that I once identified so easily. A small piece of me looks back longingly on my days as a member of the most inspirational community I have ever been a part of. I may no longer fully understand the intricate, complex LC-reality, but I know that even from far away, they are still working toward the same goals that I am. I have been given an incredible opportunity to work for our organization, full-time, doing something that I am passionate about every single day. I continue to be challenged and inspired by those around me.

I am not going to make an argument about the best strategies for sustainable community growth or the potential implications of recruitment size and integration challenges. I believe that those conversations are best had by the individuals who do fully understand the current LC reality. Many excellent points have been raised to support a multitude of different opinions. I can only hope that an equally healthy debate is going on in person back in Wisco.

I am excited to see what legacy this next generation of Badgers is able to leave inside the halls of Grainger.


All great deeds and all great thoughts have a ridiculous beginning.
- Albert Camus

Let's rearrange, I wish you were a stranger I could disengage...

I stopped to listen to the snow this weekend. Six hours west of the city, I felt closer to Wisconsin than New York. The stress melted away with the first snowball that I packed between my gloves. We hesitantly stepped out onto the frozen lake, our laughter slicing through the wind. I had not left the city in over two months, which may as well have been two years, as the weeks blend together, often with little to distinguish one from the next. I have longed for my Caribbean winters, without realizing the magic of snowy winters up north that had been absent for so long.

Conversations about everything and nothing, team bonding that had nothing to do with work and everything to do with the best coworkers in the world. Peppermint hot chocolate after snowmobiling, snow angels, wine. Home cooked dinners, s'mores in the microwave. Holding my breath into overtime, crying after a disappointing loss, laughing at the irony of finding out later that I will be flying during the entire game two Sundays from now. Blasting Britney, Alicia, and REM in the mini-van over and over and over. More pictures than we can possibly count.

2008 has brought many thoughts of a new beginning, although I have not yet been able to articulate what I want from that fresh start. I need motivation, an incentive, but I can't figure out what the end goal is that I am reaching for. My ideas seem less clearly defined, my objectives fuzzy. Am I still lost in the blizzard of Chataqua?

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas...

Too bad that the first Friday night I ever spent in this crazy town consisted of sleeping in the airport with a flimsy blanket trying to cover my eyes from the slot machines that are in every waiting room.

I don't think that I have been on a single flight in the past three months that hasn't taken off ridiculously late and missed its connection if there was one. JFK needs to get its traffic under control somehow. I was not happy when we took off almost 2 hours late, knowing that there was no way we would make up enough time for my tight connection to Oakland.

We landed after midnight. As the flight attendant announced that all but one connecting flight had already left the ground, a collective groan went around the plane. As I suspected, the next flight into Oakland or San Fran that they could put me on wouldn't get me there after lunch time, followed by an hour drive to the conference location. Things went from bad to worse when we found out that not only did the airline have no intention of giving us hotel vouchers, there were NO hotels available (Friday night in Vegas, go figure).

Their idea of customer service? Directing us to a different terminal that had more comfortable chairs for everyone to crash on for the night. comfortable? not really.....

sorry that there was no point to this post other than me venting.

hoping I make it to RoKS eventually, since it's only a one-day conference as it is.

But everything looks perfect from far away...

"You get a strange feeling when you're about to leave a place...like you'll not only miss the people you love but you'll miss the person you are now at this time and this place, because you'll never be this way ever again."

~Reading Lolita in Tehran, by Azar Nafisi

still can't seem to get Colombia out of my head these days....

IC highlights

Global Village of 100+ countries.... simply amazing

Istanbul!

shisha night with our expansion countries
Bring it up...Break it downninas bellas@Thai pants!

Madison passion

Whirling Dervishes

Costenas!

Badgers abroad!

sexy Americans :)

Porque somos la mejor delegacion...
UBS Global Excellence Award winner: AIESEC Colombia
without a doubt, the highlight of IC 2007so proud to be able to share this moment with some of the people who have had the biggest impact on my life this past year my favorite Moroccan...
he's going to have no problem fitting into NYChappy hour with my travel buddiesjumping into the deep endsun-kissedenjoying the beautiful Mediterranean coast of Turkeyconstantly realizing how much Colombia impacted my life in more ways than one...
I had missed the coast more than I ever expected
hobohookah at sunset
FethiyeRooftop scene of IstanbulFrankfurtBack in Europe after three years

Viajando manana.....

Attempting to blog while I am in the States leaves me grasping unsuccessfully for inspiration. Good thing that I am jet-setting tomorrow. 2 weeks in Turkey, here I come.

Vamos pa' TURQUIA!

One adventure leads to the next. I'm back in NYC for about a week...7 days, just long enough to recover from an intense national conference in Chicago, move to a new apartment, and pack my bags for another conference...INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS 2007 in Istanbul.

The stories that I have heard from friends who were at IC in Poland, India, or Serbia over the past few years amaze me. There's no point in trying to imagine what I am in for; I am certain that I won't have any idea until I actually arrive and am surrounded by the AIESECers from over 100 countries around me.

The high of traveling is about to kick in yet again, where the East meets West, where civilizations, cultures, and continents converge.

Nada de esto fue un error....

I can't believe this is good bye...

La locura automatica...

Medellin.

Springtime.

I wear my skirts shorter and my hair curly.

I can't seem to escape the frustration that surrounds me, but I left behind some of the stress in Bogota.

Estoy contenta.

The sun shines through the window, there is something different in the air here. Somehow I understand so clearly why paisas claim that Bogota is too cold...in more ways than just the temperature.

If I were from Medellin, I would claim bragging rights as well.

Welcoming "my" Social Entrepreneurship trainees over the past week has been surreal, adding a deeper level of impact than that which AIESEC has already given me several times over, a sense of accomplishment that I have no words to describe. In spite of everything, being in Colombia for their arrival has been priceless.

I am so excited for them to make their own discoveries, create their own memories.

I feel a sense of bittersweet jealousy as well, knowing that they are about to embark on the journey of a lifetime, one that has changed me over the past year and is coming to a close.

I left the coast exactly a month ago, and I have lost count at how many times I have questioned whether or not I am making a mistake, holding out for so long, passing up other - possibly more sensible/responsible - opportunities, for something that I want so much, yet has been delayed for so long. I am scared of the disappointment that could potentially come my way....but the longer that I wait, the more than I invest into this process, the more that I know that it's right, that this next challenge is what I want, what I need, where I can make the most difference...for myself, for others, for AIESEC.

I follow my heart, I have made some of the most important decisions in my life based on passion, not practicality...why change now?

Take my breath away...

La tierra, las montanas, los paises.

Everytime that I return to this city, it's as if a weight is lifted from my shoulders, as if I am seeing it for the first time, as if it casts some sort of magical spell over me. I love Bogota, but when it comes to Colombia, Medellin is, and always has been, my city. I honestly didn't think that I would make it back to Medellin again before I left the country, but as the rolling mountains gave way to the valley of the city and my bus arrived to the terminal this evening, I couldn't have been happier.

Next step: track down two crazy Badgers.

The clouds drifting through the blinds, A half a million thoughts, Are flowing through my mind

Sometimes when you feel as if absolutely everything is going wrong, it's amazing how the little things make such a huge difference. I've been enjoying my time in Bogota since my traineeship ended, but the feeling of putting my life on hold, being in limbo, unsure how long until I know which direction my future will take has been frustrating. Last weekend was rough for another reason, probably one of the worst that I've gone through since I've been in Colombia.

My roommates and the rest of my adopted Bogota fam has helped me stay strong and get through everything more than they could possibly realize. Our Sex in the City marathons, Asian fusion week, long Sunday morning runs when Carrera Septima is closed down for Cyclovia, bienvenidas, despedidas, trainee nights, visits to the MC office to work on the Social Entrepreneurship project, have helped me maintain some sort of normalcy.

I am excited about one last unexpected travel excursion that came up in the past 24 hours. Two Badgers (Jason - start blogging!!) arrived to my favorite Colombian city last night, and two other gringo trainees from Cornell and Denver will be coming in to Medellin next week, all to work as part of the Experience Social Entrepreneurship project. Missy, Bee, Lucas, and I have spent so much time putting this together over the past few months, and it looks like I am going to be able to visit after all. It will be great to meet all of them after the billion emails/msn chats/conference calls, see how the reception process is going, and meet up with some old friends as well. Exactly what I need right now. Change of scenery, change of pace.

Esta es mi cancion de despedida....

Last night's chiva celebrated the upcoming farewell of many in our group who will be saying good-bye to Colombia within the next month. More than just another crazy night out dancing, drinking, singing, and celebrating like most of the chivas that I have been on around Colombia, this one represented some kind of closure, coming full circle to my first chiva night in Colombia at AXLDS last April. It's rare that you are able to return to a country that you first visited for an international conference, let alone to live for a year, and even more unlikely that you will revisit a club that you partied at during a study tour with many of the same people present. Walking into Compostela last night was a strange sense of deja vu, only this time I knew the lyrics to all the songs. Still no news about if and when I am leaving Colombia, but I'm making the most of every moment until that point finally arrives...

2600 meters closer to the stars...

Este fin de semana ha representado todo de lo que quiero de Colombia. Fuimos a Andres Carne de Res viernes, un lugar full chevere afuera de Bogotá en un pueblo que se llama Chia. El ambiente y el grupo con quien fui, además cada tipo de música que puedes imaginar, eran una combinación perfecta. Bailé mapalé y cumbia como una Barranquillera verdadera y rumbeamos hasta las 4 de la mañana con una energía que solo puede encontrar en Colombia.
El padre y el hermano de Tiffany están visitando ahora y aunque no sean mis familiares, es super chevere verlos disfrutando de la vida acá. Es que ambos en Bogotá como en Barranquilla tenemos un grupo de extranjeros bastante grande a todos les aman este país, esta cultura, y más de todo, la gente Colombiana. Nosotros hemos aprendido la realidad de Colombia y sentimos en nuestra casa acá, a veces más que en nuestros países. Pero es una oportunidad full rara que podemos compartir esta vida acá con los familiares o los amigos que no estén en Colombia en una manera más que fotos o historias de email. Entonces, cuando algunos de ellos vengan de los EEUU con ninguna idea de Colombia pero con ojos abiertos y discubran la belleza y la pasión y nos digan que por fin entienden por qué estamos tan flices aquí, no hace sonreír más que todo. Aunque no soy Colombiana, tengo un gran orgullo por este país; por una parte, Colombia será siempre mi país.
Como no sé cuanto tiempo más me quedo, estoy disfrutando Bogotá lo maximo cada día. Anoche fuimos a Lobby, un barsitio chevere que ya conocí hace algunos meses, por la fiesta de MC transition. Bailamos, bailamos toda la noche. Yo voy a extrañar la música y el baile más que todo cuando no esté en Colombia. Lo siento en mi corazón, es una gran parte de quien soy. Tocaron un poquito demasiado vallenato, pero de toda manera, que ahora conozco todas las canciones que toocan, y hay algo que decir por esto…que sé bailar cada genre de música como una costeña, que puedo compartir una risa con JuanK, Patricia, y Lore cuando escuchamos cualquier cancion de una artista Barranquilla. Y por supuesto que todos bailamos uno o dos roll calls en el centro del club; es inevitable cuando salgas con un montón de AIESECos :)
Un mensaje a todos del MC Colombia, sea saliente o entrante: yo he tenido la oportunidad a trabajar mucho con algunos de Uds, otros solo conocí pocas veces, pero todos son gente increíble con una pasión que me inspiraba muchisima. Yo les deso suerte, alegría, y felicidad, lo mejor de la vida en todo lo que hacen.

Sun-kissed

I think I am the poster child for people who refuse to listen to the warning that even if it is cloudy and overcast, you can still get sunburned.

Back from a much needed weekend of fun in Cartagena, rosy pink, relaxed, but increibly nervous about the week ahead of me.

Home stretch....

Trying to put together a puzzle...not sure if I have all the right pieces...

All good things must come to an end. The better they are, inevitably, the faster they fly by. You hold on as tightly as you can, try to live in the present rather than lose yourself in the moments that have already turned into memories or the uncertain future that is rapidly approaching.

I blinked my eyes and suddenly find myself counting down the days that I have left in Colombia. One more weekend excursion to Cartagena...then to Bogota, where I began and to which I always seem to return...et après?

Scared to admit that it is time to leave, time to say goodbye, hoping that I will not be gone long, scared by the thought that I need to make plans gambling on what is still unknown...all I can do is hope that it will work out for the best...scared by the unanswered questions because for once, I know exactly what I want, but I'm not sure if I have what it takes to make it happen.

"I need your most tantalizing and captivating picture of Colombia.
To be used for internet marketing."
-Andrew

Say what?

So ... a picture is worth a thousand words + 9 months of traveling + thousands of pictures = ...one picture?

As I flip through the photo albums, I have no idea where to begin.

Do I choose from Barranquilla's carnaval, representative of the passion of Colombian people, the festival traditions that span the country, the music, and the dancing?

Or maybe a photo from the coffee region, a symbol of the country's economy and culture, and the mountain ranges that traverse a third of the country?

Perhaps the Plaza Bolivar in Bogota, the center of Colombian politics, national pride, and the site of so many historic events?

What about the stunning beaches of Tayrona, the Caribbean national park, so carefully preserved, bordered by lush jungle that is stil home to some of the indigenous communities who trace their roots back deeper into history than most of the Colombian population?

Or the colonial coastal city of Cartagena, declared by UNESCO as a World Heritage Site?

How do you choose ONE picture to represent an entire country as diverse as Colombia?

"just ask yourself what would single handedly sell people on coming to colombia"

easier said than done...

what is your signature strength?

Your Top Strength
Curiosity and interest in the world
You are curious about everything. You are always asking questions, and you find all subjects and topics fascinating. You like exploration and discovery.

I think that was a given...

I'll find my day, maybe, far and away...

I miss Wednesday nights at Brats and Thursday nights at Bros.
A-bars. shisha.
Snowstorms.
Unlimited coffeeshops.
My roommates. Rollerblading.
Late night drives. Late night runs.
The passion that an entire university feels for a football team.
Complaining about walking up Bascom Hill.
My Paris girls and our reunions.
Spending afternoons on the terrace. Babcock ice cream.

I know that when I leave I will miss salsa dancing.
Crazy bus drivers.
Our pool at the Prado. Llamada guys.
Fresh exotic fruit.
Spontaneous excursions all over the country.
Living close enough to a beach to go whenever I want, even if I don't always have time.
Learning phrases in Portuguese, Polish, German, and Patois.
Complaining that it's TOO hot in Barranquilla.

Leaving bits and pieces of my heart all over the world.
Bittersweet. I haven't even left yet. Caught between somewheres.

We're spoiled...

Colombia undoubtably has the ability to capture the hearts of all foreigners who discover it. As it was after Christmas vacation, everyone has returned from their Semana Santa excursions to other Central and South American countries and one common thread is revealed in all of our stories.

"x-country, y-city, etc. was great, we had fun, it was beautiful...but there is no way that it can compare to Colombia. The Colombian people, the culture, are pretty much unlike anywhere else in the world".

yeah, we are pretty damn lucky to be here :)

It's a small world after all...

I love the connections, the way that people are brought together through this organization that we have all made a part of our lives.

Scenario uno:
Xiomara - member of my LC in Madison, from Medellin. I spent New Year's Eve with her family in Buga, small town in the mountains north of Cali, she left shortly afterward to attend the same study abroad program in Paris that I did Spring 2004.
Ivan - former LCVP X in B'Quilla, matched my traineeship, currently doing a CEED for AIESEC France.

A couple weeks ago, I was chatting with Ivan on msn and he mentioned that he had met a friend of mine. As I searched my brain trying to think of any AIESEC'ers who I knew in France (none), he said that Xiomara had stopped by the MC office in Paris to visit and meet some AIESEC'ers there, realized that there was someone from Colombia, figured out that they both knew me.

Scenario dos:
Katy - my AIESEC twin, took over as LCVP Event Coordination, just returned from AXLDS, and *hopefully* doing a traineeship in Colombia sometime in the near future.
Camilo - one of the UNINORTE @ers who I met at AXLDS last year who everyone remembered for sleeping onstage during opening plenary, recently elected LCP UNINORTE.

me: i hear that you met camilo from uninorte?
Katy: we were roomies on the study tour!! he has a video for you from me, he was like..SAY HI TO SARAH
me: did you meet a lot of the colombian delegates?
Katy: ooomg yes..i fell in love with them, they were first ones i latched on to

make the world your comfort zone? DONE.

Ghost town...

Spending Semana Santa (Holy Week/week preceding Easter) in Bogota has been a very interesting experience. We had expected that museums and other tourist attractions would have limited hours and that we may not be able to visit as many places as we would during other times of the year, but what we had not expected was how EMPTY the city has become. I have never walked around a huge cosmopolitan capital city and wondered where all of its 9 million inhabitants had disappeared to.

Yesterday, as it was Good Friday the Zona Rosa (one of the usually busiest neighborhoods in Bogota, where many of the best bars, restaurants, and shopping malls are located) was SILENT. When we headed down to the Candelaria however, we were shocked to see the streets and sidewalks packed with people. I dare say that the crowds rivaled those of State Street in Madison during Halloween. The Candelaria is the historic and cultural center of the city, home to government buildings, museums, and of course, dozens of churches and cathedrals. People were pouring in and out of the churches attending mass, street vendors were suddenly selling prayer cards and roseries, processions were led through the streets and more.

Having been raised in a Catholic family (and yes, 9 years of Catholic grade school), I understand many of the traditions and much of the history that is associated with Holy Week. However, having been raised in the States with such a diversity of religious beliefs, it is fascinating to witness these types of religious celebrations in a country that is overwhelmingly dominated by a single religion, and to see how much it filters into the daily lives on an entire nation. The Catholic Church has played a significant role throughout the history of Latin America. I do not wish to argue whether or not this has been a positive or negative role, as I believe that religion is a very sensitive and personal topic, but rather just to comment on how visibly and deeply engrained into the culture that this has become.

Raindrops keep falling on my head....

We survived our adventure into the jungle, which was one of the most unique trips that I have ever taken. We really did swim with pink dolphins in the Amazon, fished for pirahnas, watched the fastest moving sloth you could possibly imagine as our guide climbed up into the tree after it, and held caymens (type of alligator). Our rubber boots were a laughable attempt to "stay dry" on our hikes through the rainforest when we ended up crossing water that inched higher and higher, to our thighs, above our waists, and finally deep enough that we needed to swim across. Blair, Julia, Melissa and I had the lodge to ourselves for 5 days and we enjoyed every minute of it.


Melissa and I arrived back to Bogota yesterday evening for the second half of our nice long spring break. As much as we loved the rainforest, it was nice to return to civilization...away from all of the misquitos...wash our nasty jungle laundry and enjoy some fine dining in the Zona Rosa. Bogota remains my jumping off point, I have been here several times, and despite a few unlucky incidents that several of us have had here, this city becomes more and more appealing each time that I return.


I realized earlier today that yesterday was exactly one year from the date that I had first returned home to Madison from Colombia. So many memories come back as I recall the first time that I arrived to Bogota last year and like others, I feel a pang of jealousy thinking about others who were able to go to AXLDS this year, hopefully having an equally life-changing experience. My life has changed so much since my first encounter with Colombia last year. I smile as I wander through the city and remember my initial discovery of different spots in the capital city, each time that I have returned since then, and the wonderful people who I have spent time with here.

My time in Colombia is winding down quickly. What comes next remains to be determined, my future still seems to be one large question mark. For now, all that I can do is cherish mi vida colombiana, for I know that it will be one more memory all too quickly....

In the jungle, the mighty jungle...

Suddenly before my eyes, hues of indigo arise...

My duffel bag is sufficiently overpacked with books for the 18 hour trek to and from Bogota. My iPod is charged and I have scored some dramamine to knock me out on the overnight bus ride halfway across the country. Plans have been made to crash with a trainee in the cosmopolitan capital for a few hours before our flight takes off Saturday morning to the Amazon. I managed to find my vaccine card in the mess of my closet that confirmed that yes, I will be good to go play in the jungle and will not contract yellow fever. I even talked my VP finance into giving me an advance on my salary with the argument that there is no ATM access where I will be going. SPRING BREAK = t-7 hours. PSYCHED.

When theres a shadow, you follow the sun...

Starting to get goosebumps, butterflies in my stomach, the building anticipation that every travel addict has come to know and love as you prepare to depart on your next adventure. The borders between Colombia, Peru, and Brazil will blur, thoughts of teaching English left far behind on the coast, as my fellow gringos and I fish for Piranhas and swim with pink dolphins. By this time next week, I will be playing in the jungle. My attention span could rival that of a 6-year-old's.

it's no fairy tale, take it from me, that's the way it's supposed to be...

I hate goodbyes.

Yet this nomadic, aiesec, lo que sea, existance seems to inevitably lend itself to a continuous stream of farewells. Without a clue as to the if, where, and when you will meet again, I force myself to remain optimistic albeit the tears that threaten to fall.

I believe that I am who I am, and where I am, today in a large part because of the people who have come into my life. The people who have challenged me, who have pushed me, who have INSPIRED me. The people whose lessons have remained deeply engrained into my being long after we are separated, often by hundreds of miles of land and ocean.

I had been dreading tonight's goodbye for quite awhile. How do you let go of the person who has been your closest friend since the moment that you arrived to a place that once was completely unfamiliar but has slowly become home, the person who has been there for you through the highs and the lows, who understands the foreign culture which have emersed yourself into and a lifestyle which no one "back home" could really comprehend from emails and blog entries alone?

And so you take a deep breath. You know that if your paths are meant to cross again they will and you appreciate how much richer your life is because of that person. The flip side of the curse of having your friends spread out thousands of miles away across the entire globe is simply that....no matter where in this world that you find yourself, you are at home, because that is where your friends are.


thanks for being there for me alex. love you. prost.

The next big move, destination: UNKNOWN

I get so excited when I hear about my fellow nomads' exciting plans for the upcoming semester, as they plan study abroad, traineeships, and other crazy excursions. This one will be heading in my direction this summer and I would love to be able to visit this one.

Now that the excitement of Carnaval has passed, it seems that my time here in Barranquilla is rapidly spiraling toward its concluding moments. I realize that I still have a few months left, but at the same time, I ONLY have a few months left. Spring break will be upon us in less than a month, and I know that the time after that will pass even more quickly.

It has been just about a year since I first stumbled upon this country which has now become home. Odd. I find myself in a strangely identical predicament to what I was going through at this time last year...pondering what my next move will be. I am not ready to leave Colombia, but it is rare that you are ever really ready to leave a place that you have fallen in love with. Eventually you need to let go and be open to what will come next, because otherwise you never would have gotten to where you are. I have no idea if it is the right time for me to let go of Colombia.

Job hunting is starting to wear on me. It becomes so much more frustrating when I am uncertain of what I am looking for. Impatience. Uncertainty. ANTICIPATION. EXCITEMENT.

Where will I be a few months from now? Only time will tell...

I always take the long way home...

I returned to my apartment yesterday evening to find three wonderful visitors, a delicious Indian meal being prepared in my kitchen, and the HoboHookah sitting in the center of my dining room table. I made a few phone calls, found a place that would deliver some double apple shisha and coals to my front door, and spent the rest of the evening amidst the cappuchino and manzana scented smoke, the laughter and conversation of great friends. Question to a certain few nomads out there...Has the Hobo ever been smoked from a hammock before? If not, it has now, and I must say, the setting was ideal.

Don't fade away 'til the morning light...

I may no longer be a college kid, but working for a university means that it is often easy to pretend otherwise. Keeping with tradition of the past four years, spring break is destined to be an adventure. After NYC, Italy/Spain, Florida, and Jamaica/Melgar, what could possibly be next?

LAS AMAZONAS

We are off to Leticia, a small town by Colombian standards (population comparable to the good old WB) that spills across the Colombian/Brazilian/Peruvian border as our jumping off spot for a week in the jungle!

The Nomadpad of BQuilla...

My roommate and I have decided that we should open our own hostel. Since the first of the year, there has not been a single night where we have not had at least one visitor (...usually more like 4 or 5) crashing at our place. The extra beds, couches, and hammocks have proven quite usful and I love always having dinner guests. We are *booked* through the end of February, but always have space for one more. Any one else destined for one of the best CARNAVALS in the world this year?

WORLD, HOLD ON

And so the adventure began…

Medellín

Medellín is magical and captivating, cosmopolitan and enthralling. It is hard to believe that a city as amazing as this one has had such a dark past. Paisas boast about their city, but they have earned the bragging rights. Each time that I return to the city of eternal spring, I find it harder to leave. Joana and I arrived Saturday afternoon, at which time we met up with about a dozen other trainees that had gathered from around Colombia to celebrate Christmas, and I did not depart for my next destination until a week later, several days later that I had intended to stay.

The trainee community around Colombia is something that I have treasured over the past several months. AXLDS reunions, groups of @ers working on PBOXs, and numerous LC-organized trainee weekends during ferias have lent themselves to strong bonds forming amongst the trainees across this country. Even though I started off with the intention of “traveling solo”, I found myself surrounded for 4 weeks by amazing people from all over the world who have also become enchanted with the magic of traveling around Colombia. If there is any way to escape the touristy-sight-seeing-travel-guide cliché of traveling, this is it. Having so many friends around you to go out every night is just an added bonus.

The first afternoon of the trip was spent with the Accion Social crew that the Alcance Social PBOX has been working with. We headed up the mountains via the fancy-schmancy MetroCable to some of the poorer barrios where an afternoon event had been organized for hundreds of kids who live in the area. Seeing the smiles on their faces as we finger painted, played twister, sang Christmas carols, covered the ground with sidewalk chalk art, played soccer, ate ice cream, and taught them simple phrases in English for hours was priceless.

The MetroCable is an innovative addition to the already impressive metro system that exists in no other Colombian city and just one of many things that impressed me about the development of Medellín. Only a few years old, the ski-lift style tram has connected two opposite spectrums of a city and has somehow turned the slums into a tourist attraction. What was once a dangerous and hard to reach area high up in the mountains now sports paved, tree-lined sidewalks with street markets selling snacks and artisan crafts. Close by is a huge library that is being built, and posters show plans by the major and city council to continue to construct parks, schools, and a cultural center over the next few years. (Better yet, the current mayor of Medellin who is responsible for all of these amazing plans studied for a time at UW-Madison!! Gotta say it, once again, pretty proud of where I am from and everyone else who comes out of that school). While I was in Medellin, I was in the middle of reading "News of a Kidnapping" by Gabriel Garcia Marquez (awful, but fascinating recount of 10 journalists kidnapped in the early 1990's). It was strange to realize that the descriptions of such terrible events that occured a decade and a half ago during the time of Escobar took place in the same city where I now enjoyed sitting in cafes with friends and wandering through various neighborhoods, much the same as when I lived in Paris. I am constantly impressed by Colombia’s potential, now even more so by the genuine effort that this city seems to be making in investing in the people, in the parts of the community that are in the direst need.

I spent Christmas Eve with Diana, one of the closest friends I had made at AXLDS last year, and her family. We spent hours running in and out of different grocery stores, in search of everything needed to cook an amazing feast that evening. We were determined to finish off the meal with a touch of American dessert…absolutely no apple pie could be found, so we eventually settled for a Sara Lee strawberry cheesecake. Following Christmas Eve mass, Diana, her younger sister and I slaved in their dad's kitchen for hours (…there was plenty of Bailey’s and salsa music and fireworks off the balcony over the skyline of the city, so it wasn’t too bad! ) on our amazing dinner that lasted well past midnight. Her family welcomed me in so sincerely that I did not for a moment have a single regret about being “away from home” for the holidays.

I felt at home. There was no white Christmas, but there was also no lack of Christmas spirit in this city. I had heard tales of the Christmas lights in Medellín, which like so many things Antioquian, were claimed to be the ”best in Colombia”. One night, several friends and I headed down to the river to admire the display of lights which was an artwork unlike anything that I have ever seen before. This year’s theme was “Regions of Colombia”; the sidewalks lining the river were packed with people admiring the light sculptures in the shapes of the castle in Cartagena and monuments of Bogotá, all leading up the hill toward Pueblito Paisa. The entire display was beautiful.


Cali, Pance, and Buga

I finally tore myself away from Medellín, but only in time to catch the very end of the Feria de Cali. I joined up with the rest of the group once again for a day of basketball in Pance and a night of impressive professional dance performances in one of the salsa capitals of the world. I ran into Patrycja and Torstan, two of my coworkers from Poland and Germany, randomly for the third time of the trip...at Parque Lleras in Medellin, the bus station in Cali, and now at the concert in Cali. I guess that my fellow foreigners and I really do stick out in a crowd of thousands :)

Every day in Colombia is a reason for a party, and holidays spent with Colombians are one more reason to go all out. For most of my time in the southwest of the country, including my New Years celebration, I opted toward Buga, a small town about an hour north of Cali. Xiomara, a friend who I had met in Madison, had invited me to spend the 31st with her family when she went back home to Colombia to visit over break.

Their finca atop the mountain was packed with relatives and more delicious food and shots of aguardiente than anyone could possibly manage to finish off. A muñeco, something resembling a scarecrow filled with firecrackers, stood in the yard and was set on fire at midnight. The tradition represents leaving behind anything negative from the past year. After this we lit a large hot-air balloon made of tissue paper, which is supposed to carry your wishes for the New Year up to the sky. We may have had a few problems actually getting it off the ground, and each failed attempt landed the balloon in a tree instead of flying over the edge of the mountain as we had hoped, but the idea seemed nice anyway!

I relaxed at the finca for a few more days, spending hours reading in the hammock or playing with Xiomara’s cousins, driving to the other side of the lake for ice cream, and jetskiing in January, which made me happier than anything else.

Zona Cafetera

I had traveled to the far opposite corner of the country, much closer to the border of Ecuador than to the Caribbean. I left Buga for the coffee region of the country as I started the return trip toward the coast. The three states of Caldas, Risaralda, and Quindío, which comprise this region, are the smallest and arguably the most beautiful that I have seen anywhere in Colombia in terms of scenery.

I spent time in several locations, but Manizales and Valle de Cocora were by far the highlights of this region. Colombia has more puentes (3 day weekends), ferias, and carnavals that anywhere else I know of...luckily for travelers, many of these fall between December and January.

The Manizales LC sponsered a Feria Trainee Weekend for which they would provide food, accomodation, AND reimburse our travel costs if we participated in their Global Village. Sweeeeet deal. We put together around 15 stands representing various countries, Arthur and I cooked up some Buffalo Wings (relatively mild by Brats standards, but set the Colombians' mouths on fire), and crowds of people came by to enjoy the event. Being located in the middle of a park when several other events related to the feria were taking place was ideal, as we had people lined up outside the tents before we even got started. Better yet, when we closed down the tents for an hour over lunch and again at the end of the day and started to dance @roll calls, the crowds lined up, watching in awe as we busted out to Tunak Tunak and Bailar al Ritmo Vuelto. The day was exhausting, but never to the point that you don't have a little extra energy to dance.

The rest of the weekend included a chiva, a bullfight, and hours of being lazy at Juan Valdez coffeeshop with the other trainees. Originally a way to transport agricultural products from one pueblo to another, chivas are now also used as party buses. Driving through the streets with a folkloric band on board, dancing and drinking and shouting to passersby, the chiva eventually drops rides off at a club or bar to continue the party.

Going to the bullfight was an ... interesting ... experience. I had never seen one before, and it was as gruesome and cruel as I had feared, yet I was glad that I saw it. One of the LC members came with us to explain the in's and out's of what was going on, why the sport is important to Latino culture, and the differences between bullfights in Manizales, Cali, and Bogota. I still cringed at every bull that was slaughtered and I think that our group of foreigners were amongst the few people in the stadium not cheering like crazy at the spectacle.

Valle de Cocora was simply breathtaking and proved once again why Colombia has been called the World's Best Kept Secret. The National Park is characterized by the tallest palm trees in the world and the mountains eventually lead into Parque de los Nevados, which contains the tallest mountain peak in the country. I explored the park, hiking and horseback riding in silence, without seeing a single person for hours on end. I have said it before, but I will say it again...the diversity and natural beauty of Colombia is simply beyond words, and I do not mind for a second that it has not been overrun with tourists.

The last few days of my trip, including Armenia, Salento, and Cocora, were rough as I tried to ignore the nasty food poisoning that I had picked up at Global Village, ironically enough. I finally made it back home to the coast, pumped with antibiotics, to relax with Steve and Tiff, my visitors from Bogota, for a few days. It was good to be home....from the trip of a lifetime.

Let that city take you in, let that city spit you out...come on home

As much as I try to squeeze my eyes shut, put off the inevitable, and savor the moment, the reality is that my wonderful bliss of traveling around Colombia for weeks on end has just about wrapped up. I have come full circle and find myself back in Medellin, the city that more than one person has referred to as my *real* hometown in this country. Sunday morning, I leave for the coast.

I started this adventure about 20 days ago and have managed to make a lifetime of memories that spanned the gap between one year and the next. Thanks to the wonderful trainee network around this country, as well as countless amazing Colombians who have touched my life, this month has by far had the biggest impact on my life thusfar into my traineeship.

Love, tears, music, laughter...From one corner of the country to the opposite, 8 cities and pueblos, countless hours spent in buses and cars...I've had it all.

Half of the time we're gone, but we don't know where...

Two overpriced holiday season no student discount bus tickets to Medellin in my hand and I can finally breathe a sigh of relief. My bags are packed and I am almost ready to go. The adventure is about to begin. With a month of vacation ahead of me, the possibilities are endless. Spending an international Christmas in my absolute number one favorite city in this country and leaving the rest up to fate. I like this idea of traveling without a definite destination and just enjoying the ride......

Happy Holidays everyone!

Your laughter's still ringing in my ears...

Dozing in and out on my beach chair in Pto. Colombia, relishing the idea of not returning to UNINORTE for nearly a month, an all too familiar scent caught my attention. The sweet subtle mixture of smoke and apple. I whipped around and quickly spotted it behind us. Time to go make some friends.

"Donde compraste esto? Me gusta mucho, pero nunca he visto aca en Colombia."
"Hay un restaurante arabe, aqui en Barranquilla."
"Que sabor tienes? Manzana?"
"Si."
"Podemos fumar con uds?"
"Claro."

Thus began the afternoon of shisha on the beach. They laughed when I told them they weren't packing it right and asked with doubting expressions if I knew how to do it better. They were impressed with the Madtown shisha knowledge. The barn would have been proud.

Santa Marta y mucho mas....

A few days ago, as we were all hanging out at Melissa's making pancakes for Saturday brunch, Elena (trainee from Italy) and I realized that we were amongst the few who were left in Barranquila before most of the crew started to disperse that day to Chile, Germany, Costa Rica, Peru and other destinations for break. What to do, what to do....go out of town, of course! My tan is starting to fade - a trip to the beach was in order.

An hour later, two phone calls had been made - one to a trainee in Santa Marta and another to the MarSol transportation company on the coast, we had thrown a couple swimsuits in our bags and were on our way. The usual one and a half hour ride to Santa Marta took about double that amount of time, for who knows what reason, but we finally made it to the smallest of the three main cities along the Caribbean coast. The city of Santa Marta is bordered by the pueblos of El Rodedero and Taganga, a resort town and a fishing village respectively, all three of which have the awesome beaches that are lacking from the port city of Barranquilla.

Elena and I met up with Julie, a trainee from Belgium, and a few of her Colombian friends for the last few hours of sunlight and swimming in Taganga. We devoured delicious homemade pizzas on the beach and laughed at the Christmas lights that were strung up everywhere. I am often frustrated to find that regardless of the mix of extranjeros and Colombians, the limited knowledge of many foreigner's Spanish makes English the common language even though we are in South America. For once we spent two days speaking almost entirely in Spanish. sweet. I badly need the practice. While geographically close, everything about Santa Marta is a world of difference and it's nice to shake things up a bit.
Just beyond Santa Marta, there are countless beaches along the backdrop of the Sierra Nevada mountains that eventually blend into Tayrona National Park. We woke up early the next day, determined to find the infamous Playa Cristal, whose claim to fame was sand as white and smooth and water as clear as the San Andres and Provedencia islands. Getting there was an adventure since everyone that we talked to had a different idea about where exactly it was or how to get there. In the end we had taken no less than 5 means of transportation .... city bus, on foot, hitchhiked on the back of a truck filled with bricks into the entrance of the park, walked some more, negotiated a cab ride through the winding bluffs that reminded me of Wisconsin Dells (duck ride, anyone?), and once we had gotten to the sea, hopped into a motor boat in order to reach our destination.
I love the beaches of Arecife, la Piscina, y el Cabo at Tayrona. They are natural and preserved, unspoiled by tourists, vendors, or cruises docking along the shore. While many Colombians know Tayrona, each time that I am there, I feel as if I have discovered something beautiful and exotic that very few people even know exist.

After this weekend, these beaches could not even compare to Playa Cristal. The mountains had hidden away a beach that we found almost impossible to reach. The last leg of the journey is impossible to reach on foot. There are no maps or road signs to these kinds of destinations, only a whisper from those who have seen them and pass the secret on to a few other lucky people. The tropical fish circling around us gave the sense of being in an aquarium and even without goggles, it was possible to see straight down to the floor of the sea, some 10, 15 m. below us.

sigh. relaxed. content. sunkissed. I may not have snow for Christmas, but this is a perfectly acceptable substitute :)

Home, home, where I wanted to go...

I use the word "home" very interchangably. While back in the States, within the same conversation, I would say that I was "going home to hang out with my roommates", referring to my old apartment where I crashed for a couple nights, followed shortly by "when I get back home" meaning Colombia.

Coming back home to Barranquilla was welcomed just as much as going back home to Madison. I couldn't stop smiling when I landed at OHare a couple weeks ago, and I felt exactly the same way when I arrived to Bogota late Thursday night. I love Bogota more and more each time that I visit and was happy to be able to spend a few days there chilling and going out before I headed back to the coast.

I had missed drinking wine with my roommates in my hammock and fresh juice any time, day or night. I missed speaking broken Spanish and all the seemingly insignificant oddities that I have come to know and love about B'Quilla. I missed the coast, seeing palm trees out my office window, being able to wear skirts and sandals everyday, and going to the pool to tan after work. More than anything else, I missed the music and I missed the dancing.

Everyone knows everyone in this city and everyone's business, and while that may be annoying at times, it was welcoming to have the porteros (doormen) at our apartment, the cleaning ladies who work at the university who always chat with Alex and I, and the owner of the Dulcerna (the bakery that we have become regulars at for their free wireless and delicious milkshakes) all ask where I had been because they hadn't seen me in a few weeks.

Welcome back. Welcome home.