recruitment

How many lives can one conference change?

I was talking to Camilo the other day, who was also at AXLDS with me this past spring, and he pointed out that the conference was a "come to Latin America" scheme....but in a good way. Out of the 6 Americans who attended the conference, current locations are as follows:

ME: Madison-->Barranquilla, Colombia: AIESEC educational traineeship
Anna: Madison-->Buenos Aires, Argentina: AIESEC developmental traineeship
Gwen: Colorado -->Mexico City, Mexico: AIESEC MC
Tiffany: Arizona-->Bogota, Colombia: management traineeship
Kip: Michigan-->Medellin, Colombia: studying Spanish at the university
Sarah: NYC...but she was already working for AIESEC, so we will let that one slide ;)

5 out of 6. Not bad.

Lost in Translation

"So tomorrow, we want you to go visit a colegio [junior high/high school] and talk to one of the English classes. Do you mind? It's nothing formal, don´t worry about preparing anything, you can just talk about why you think it's important to study foreign languages, study abroad, etc. The kids will probably want to ask you questions about American culture too, so you can just talk to them about whatever they are interested in. Someone from will pick you up around 11, ok?"
- one of the secretaries who works in the office of my language institute at the university

Sure, sounds good. This week has been "training", i.e. haven't had to do much of anything other than help out with oral placement tests, get my third tour of the university since everyone wants to make sure that I know where things are (the campus is about 1/10 the size of Madison, max) and attend a couple "meetings" for new teachers. Assuming that this would be similar to the kind of thing that I had done in Paris when I helped out with the English classes in a middle school, I was excited to go talk to the class. Even though I will be working at the university giving culture presentations in French, leading English conversation classes, and helping out as a teaching assistant, I figured it would be a good prep for my job.

When I was told that I was going to visit a class, I assumed I would be in a classroom, talking to about 20-30 kids. Lesson #1 of living abroad: never make assumptions.

I arrived to the school, checked in at the office, was met by a student who asked my name, where I was from, and what I had studied so that he could introduce me. I was then led into an auditorium, handed a microphone, and realized that I was not talking to a classroom, but rather the entire school. There were at least 200, possibly 250, students sitting in front of me waiting eagerly for me to tell them all about American culture.

My jaw dropped and I muttered to the teacher standing by me, "THIS is what I didn't need to prepare anything to talk about for?"

"Oh yeah, they are so excited that you are here, and I am sure they will have plenty of questions for you."

I was put on the spot as these kids asked me everything they could possibly think of from American pop culture, music, food, politics to what Americans thought about Colombia, what the role of the media vs. the government was in the general assumption of the country, why I had decided to come to Colombia, whether or not I had been scared to come, and what my first impressions of the city were. I compared Bogotá to New York and American football vs. Soccer. They laughed when I told them that the taxi drivers were the scariest thing I have encountered thusfar and cheered when I told them that "My Hips don't Lie" was played on the radio back home as much as it is here and that all of my friends knew that I was going to be living in Shakira's hometown. They made me think as they asked me why it was so hard to get an American visa, why the US was the most powerful country in the world, and whether or not I thought that English being the "most popular" language in the world reflected that power status. Damn, these kids were smart.

To top it off, if this wasn't already enough of an experience for one day, my visit to the school was followed by a lunch with two people who worked at the school (some kind of administrators, but despite several attempts to figure out exactly what their jobs were, I was still confused) which would have under normal circumstances been considered a very professional, business-like lunch, at a rather nice restaurant. It's much harder to remain "professional" though when the people you are having lunch with assume that you speak the language much better than you actually do (even when you have told them otherwise), and you need to ask them to repeat every other sentence and still lose the train of conversation on multiple occasions.

We talked about everything possible related to the US education system, the cost of university, how that compared to average salaries for different careers, and how that reflected costs of living in different locales across the country.

We discussed every single type of food you could possibly eat in Colombia, as they were curious to what I had and had not tried yet...which was hard, since I still don't know the name of half of what I eat. I did learn that both turtle and iguana could easily appear on a nice restaurant menu...who knew?

They were kind enough to take me to a French restaurant, because I told them that I had studied in Paris, laughed with me as I stumbled over the language, and joked when our food was taking so long that the cooks had to go all the way to Tayrona to catch the shrimp for my crepe.

Ask any Colombian what Barranquilla is best known for and you will get the exact same response. At first glance, the city is nothing special, in the way that you might be instantely impressed by the skyscrapers of New York or the fancy architecture of Paris, or the monuments of Rome. It's not the beaches, because you have to drive far outside the city to reach the good ones, the weather, or even Shakira that make the city famous across the country. It is the people. They laugh, love life, dance like it's their job, and make you feel at home instantely. I love it.

Every place has a secret...

One of my closest friends told me that recently, and the more I travel, the more I realize just how true that is. I have stumbled upon a country with countless, undiscovered secrets.

We escaped the sticky, humid city for the weekend and after only a few hours, we had crossed the Sierra Nevada mountains and landed in Tayrona, far from any sign of civilization. The truck at the entrance of the park only took us a short distance into the forest before the only options of continuing were on foot or by horseback. After an hour of hiking through the mountains, we descended and the jungle of palm trees split to reveal that there was in fact a light at the end of the tunnel…some of the most beautiful, natural beaches I have ever seen in my life. Neither words nor pictures can do justice.

Camping takes on a whole new meaning when you can catch drops of Jupiter in the sea at midnight, lay on the beach staring up at the Milky Way, fall asleep in a hammock underneath palm trees instead of in a sleeping bag inside a tent, wake up early to see the sunrise reflected in the waves crashing against the boulders along the shoreline, and learn legends about the shipwreck that can be seen past the end of the cove…

Sex in the City: Barranquilla edition

Our everyday discussions revolve around cultural differences and similarities, ranging from every topic imaginable, contrasting traditions, learning colloquial language. Dating is far from easy anywhere, but throw cultural differences into the mix and reading the opposite gender is infinitely more impossible than you ever could have imagined.

As we discussed “going out” habits tonight, the UK girls and I sided together on almost every single thing, often shocking our Latino friends. They were surprised and confused to learn that when a guy wants to hit on a girl in a bar, he will most likely buy her a drink rather than ask her to dance ("so a guy has to spend money to let a girl know that he thinks she is cute?" well, no...). Likewise, the guys seemed almost offended when we explained how girls often go out together in large groups just for the sake of spending time with friends and have mastered the art of “protecting” each other (only when necessary, of course) when a random guy gets too close.

Everyone tonight, both Latino and not, agreed that single girls are targeted here in bars, clubs, anywhere more than I have ever seen in the US, immediately marked as fresh meat. Before you go out, you had better make sure that everyone in your group has been paired off accordingly for the evening.

Which leaves the question, is “single and loving it” a possibility in Colombian culture where PDA is considered the norm?

Rules of the Road: Barranquilla edition

It’s simple, really. Everyone is convinced that they, and only they, have the right of way.

If you are a bus, you are bigger than everyone else, and therefore all smaller vehicles had better get the hell out of your way because you will not hesitate to use your size to your advantage. Mere intimidation just doesn’t cut it.

If you are a car, you don’t care how big that bus is, you are small enough and quick enough to squeeze in between those two lanes, the gap of which is most likely no wider than a motorcycle. Want to make a left turn from the right lane? No problem – just cut in front of the car in the left lane.

If you are a pedestrian, be prepared to take your life into your own hands when trying to maneuver traffic because crossing the street has suddenly become an extreme sport.

I’ve already witnessed the not-so-discreet pay-off the cop in order to avoid a ticket and a messy taxi-motorcycle collision that resulted in a smashed-in front end of the taxi and the motorcycle upside down across the hood. Eeek. Oh, and the traffic lights change in the following order: Green to yellow to red to yellow and red combined. This means that you can actually be through the intersection before the light even switched back to green.

During lunch with a couple administrators of the language institute today, one of the men leaped up from our table and suddenly ran outside screaming and swearing at the tow truck that was about to haul away his car, which he had illegally parked in front of the restaurant. I mentioned to the other person left at the table with me that I hadn’t realized until that point that there were any kind of parking rules. No street signs that prohibited parking or listed limited hours, no curbs painted yellow, and certainly no parking meters. His response was, “Well, yeah. I guess there *are*…but people just do what they want”.

Strangely enough, I have yet to meet a Barranquillero who isn’t proud of the fact that the city is known to have the worst drivers in the country…

Still contemplating Ferkho’s offer of driving lessons while I am here… :)

Gotta get a message, get it on through, oh, gonna let the music play

The past few weeks have been filled with music, the passion of Latin culture streaming through the air day and night, no matter where I am.

ConoSur did not disappoint and the ever classic AIESEC songs played throughout the conference, alternating with more traditional Argentine dance music. Vivianna and I turned up the reggaeton on my laptop whenever we were in our room between sessions at the conference, and she assured me that my playlist would be right at home once I arrived in Colombia.

Thanks to the wonderful owners of our hostel in Buenos Aires, we were constantly entertained. Between Natil playing her guitar and Santi blasting Colombian music over the speakers in the common rooms, Manténgase was rarely lacking in background music.

I have been surrounded by a wonderful mixture of salsa, vallenato, reggaeton, and Colombian pop since the moment I arrived in Barranquilla, on the radio, in city buses, in bars, clubs, stores, and everywhere else. I had to laugh when Marcela, MariClau’s little sister, discovered my iPod while we were on our way to the mall a few nights ago. She was fascinated by it; it didn’t take her long to figure out how to work it and find the Spanish playlists on there. We bonded over “Pasamé la botella” and Shakira and MariClau and I taught her how to dance “Al Ritmo Vuelto”.

Ahhhhh, music. The most beautiful language of all.

The world is flat

I am currently fascinated with that book. While I have been wanted to read it for several months now, it seems fitting that I am engrossed in it now. During the past 2 weeks in Buenos Aires, I have spent time with people from Argentina, Canada, Colombia, Chile, Uruguay, Serbia and Montenegro, Brasil, Poland, Austria, Turkey, Panama, Guatemala, Mexico, Germany, France, Puerto Rico, and the States.

I think that as AIESEC’ers, we may take experiences like this for granted at times, but it really is amazing how close we can bring the world into our own world. Each country simply builds upon the culture of the previous, adding perspective, making the experience that much richer. How about that for a flat world, Colombus?

past the borders, between continents

I am thousands of miles, yet only a matter of hours away from Colombia, and I have no words to describe how surreal the feeling is. All the little moments over the past few years have landed me here, a solo traveler, with a university degree, a passport, and a desire to see the world, at any costs, more than anything else. Life can take unexpected directions…I never would have guessed even a year ago that the destination on my ticket would read Bogotá, Colombia or that the Colombian visa attached to my passport would be my ticket to an entire year in South America.

I think I am still in awe of the past two weeks, and I am certain that they changed my life in more ways than one. The same amount of time that I spent in Colombia a few months ago I have now spent in Argentina. I feel as if I have been here so much longer than I have. Even when we sleep in and may not do much more during the day other than wander around exploring BA, there is so much to take in and the days stretch so much longer than they ever do in Madison where an entire week can blur together in the routine of work and school. While I am excited to be heading to Colombia, it was harder to leave Buenos Aires than I had expected, and Argentina now has a special place in my heart, right alongside France and Colombia.

“Most knowledge is learning from the other across the border”

Taken out of context from a technological perspective on globalization of the 21st century as told by Thomas Freedman, I couldn’t help but realize how true this one sentence was to my life. The limitations of classroom learning are arguably flexible, but are limits nonetheless. The possibilities for learning outside of a classroom are far more infinite and valuable. Had I spent the past 2 weeks pouring over textbooks in a library, I would not have been able to consume the volumes of knowledge that I gained from everyone I have met so far in this journey. And there is no way that I would have had a fraction of the amount of fun in the process.

A city can be beautiful, a vacation can be jam-packed with sightseeing, a culture can be overflowing with museums, cuisine, theatre, history, music, and more, but none of that is going to change perspectives or leave behind the memories of a lifetime. Finding a sense of direction in a new city or recognizing neighborhoods after a few days of being there are still likely to leave you feeling lost and out of place in a new country, awkward, confused, a tourist, an extranjero. It’s not hard to see why I have felt more at HOME in certain places that are thousands of miles from what most would call HOME in a traditional sense. There are people who touch your life and make living abroad comfortable and familiar, even when it should rationally be more uncomfortable and strange than any other sensation. The people who I have traveled with or met while traveling mean so much to me. The conversations flowed as easily as those between people who had been close friends for years, not days. The language barriers provided laughter rather than frustration, the cultural differences provoked intense conversations and learning, rather than judgment and misunderstanding.

How can you feel culture shock when you are spending time with people who can show you the secrets of a city, who make you feel as if you belong rather than stand out, who teach you volumes just be being themselves and laughing with you?

Spanish lessons

I honestly cannot think of a better way to learn a language. What could possibly replace sitting in a hostel, a random assortment of people from the states, Holland, Serbia, Argentina, and Colombia, with Santi, one of the hostel owners rambling on and on about who knows what with that ridiculous grin on his face, knowing that he is speaking way faster than I could possibly even try to follow. At the end of it all, he asks me something, and giving him a completely blank state in return, I reply, “sí”. He cocks his head, raises his eyebrows and asks, “en serio? Me entendiste?” I laugh even harder and say “nooooooo”.

After GMM tonight, we went over to the apartment where a couple of the @ guys live, which was so much fun. I may be on the opposite side of the world, but as we were drinking wine, smoking shisha, ordering empanadas instead of pizza, laughing about facebook, and listening to Black Eyed Peas, I could not have been more at home.

From the moment that we arrived in Buenos Aires and Damien and Juan picked us up from the airport at nearly 5am, I have had such a blast and have been amazed at my ability to have real conversations in Spanish. Hell, the entire conference was led in Spanish. I am not going to lie and pretend that I have understood everything, or even half of it, that many of the conversations haven’t had quite a bit of English mixed in, or that my grammar skills are anything to brag about, but I am certain that I will be speaking like a pro much sooner than I could have ever dreamed. I probably sound like a 5 year old when I try to speak now, but I already have so much more confidence with the language, and I have caught myself using Porteño phrases without thinking twice about it. The Colombians here laugh when I attempt to use “vos” since that will do me absolutely no good when I head up to Barranquilla…

si, hay shisha en argentina :)

Email from West Bend:

From: Elizabeth Bollen
To: Sarah Stafford
Date: Jul 13, 2006 6:12 PM
Subject: My curiosity

Ok, so this is totally random ... but please explain hookah to me!!!! I am so cunfused! Is it tobacco? Is it pot? Is it candy? Is it a dog? Seriously ... I do not understand. If it's tobacco, why the hell is it in such a big thing? Why don't people just smoke it like a cigarette? I see it has flavors. Please enlighten me. What does it make you feel like? I cig? Thank you for your time. Peace out ... I will write a real email soon. Love, Liz :)

The two Turkish trainees busted out the shisha the past two nights. Hardly any of the Argentineans, Brazilians, Chileans, etc. had seen it before. They were impressed at how excited I was to see it. I've been trained well.

Quick apology for the lack of blogging. Buenos Aires simply has way too many things to keep a girl occupied. Tomorrow begins the next leg of my voyage however: 3 hour flight from Argentina to Peru, 1 hour layover in Lima, 3 hour flight to Colombia, 20+ hour bus ride from Bogota to Barranquilla. Updates of the past two weeks are on the way...

Reception dinner with the BA @'ers!

Cindor = chocolate milk in cafes :)

any Barriquester's recognize one of those labels??

hanging out with some Madtown girls

cows gone wild in Buenos Aires...reminded us a little bit of Madison

Pensamientos del avion: Lima a Buenos Aires...

After a near catasrophe with a missed appointment at the Consulate General of Colombia, my visa is safely secured in my passport, and I´ve left behind the Chicago skyline one last time. In the past 24 hours, I´ve glimpsed the mountains of Guatemala, the palm trees of San Salvador, and the city lights of Lima. The plane has taken off once again, and the next time I touch the ground, I will officially have arrived at my first destination of this Latin American adventure I have gotten myself into: Buenos Aires.

Having grown up on ¨American¨ football, the World Cup craze of the past few weeks has intrigued me. Other than random intramural leagues and pick-up games over the years, I never got very into soccer. The games of the past few weeks however, have the same type of energy that takes over the world for a few weeks every couple years during the Olympic Games, and there is something fascinating about the sense of national pride that is evoked by a ¨global¨sport, especially one that does not carry quite the same meaning in the US as around much of the globe. As I sat in the waiting room of the Consulate General yesterday, the random assortment of people surrounding me and I sat with our eyes glued to the screen of the Argentina-Germany game. The 5 hour layover in San Salvador flew by this morning as Anna and I had breakfast in the airport bar surrounded by other travelers watching the scoreless-until-shootout England-Portugal match. Halfway through our flight, the captain of our plane announced in Spanish that France had upset Brasil, in a 1-0 final score, and I don´t think a single person on the flight remained silent at the news. Although I can´t say I had a favorite throughout, it would have been fun to see the craziness in person this week if Argentina had made it to the finals...

here's to all of you...

may every star you wish upon, and every hope you're hanging on come true
out of everybody in the world, there's no one who deserves it more than you
i hope you find everything you've been dreaming of
only good things, no in-betweens, just peace and love

Chicagoland

The trainees at Cafe Iberico: USA, Czech Republic, Phillippines, Argentina, Romania, Lithuania

Eastern Europe may have won out on that one, but I would say we're a pretty diverse group! And yes, we may still have been in the US, but I can officially call myself one of the trainees now too!