Carnaval de Barranquilla!

Events of Barranquilla

(Carnaval is basically a carnival with traditional music and dance and fun. The carnival in Barranquilla is the second largest in the world!)

We left Cartagena and got a comfortable bus to an incredible hotel. Word from the wise: if you ever go to Carnaval, book your hotel months in advance.

A week ahead left us with $100 rooms. It turned out fine as the staff was incredible and even gave us an extra room for free because we couldn't really fit in three. It also came with a huge, hot breakfast and wifi. What more could we want?

After some confusion and frustration being told the only credit card we had wouldn't work (it did) we headed to our rooms. We walked around town a bit, relaxed a bit, got some food, and...I got smooched at by a girl. We walked past some drunk girls on a corner, they seemed way too interested in us, but we ignored them. The rest of the group went by and the girls crawled all over our boys before grabbing their privates and grabbing one guy's phone. He grabbed her arm and got it back and she yelled he was stealing her phone before running away. We realized then how sketchy the town was and how careful we had to be, surrounded by so many people. Lesson one: no valuables.

Shorty after, we went out for some drinks and dancing. Somehow I met a couple of drunk Colombians who attached themselves to me. One guy in particular was pretty (drunk) friendly, and we were talking and then he said something in Spanish I couldn't understand an so I just replied si, si, and he quickly leaned in to kiss me. I then realized he asked something about kissing Colombiano. We laughed it off as miscommunication. Lesson two: don't agree unless you know what you're agreeing to.

The rest of the night was mostly Uneventful, but fun as my volunteer group danced the night away together.

The next morning, Saturday, we headed out early. I have never seen so many taxis! Traffic was crazy as everyone worked their way to Carnaval. Along the road, there were vendors and tons of people dressed up in costumes and colors. 

At a stoplight, a boy covered in black paint stood by the taxi window mouthing "one" and making the drinking action. We didn't understand. 

The taxi dropped us as close as possible, which wasn't close at all because of the people and closed roads. I have never seen an entire city shut down to party before.

We made our way down to the parade route where hundreds of people were gathering. Tents were set up along the road and vendors had stands with food, clothes, masks, and cans of...foam?

We walked around for a bit, pressing our way through the masses while holding on to the person in front of us so we wouldn't loose our group. We looked for a place to sit, but everywhere was packed, or cost $30-$100 to sit there. We finally found enough chairs under a tent for only $7 each. We took them, and sat to wait for the two hours until parade time.

As we sat, people walked by yelling that they had water, beer, and chips.  There was so much noise, so many people, so many colors, so much music. Sensory overload. 

Then, out of nowhere, the fun began as the cans of foam started unloading. It was a riot as kids and teen boys targeted the foreigners. 

At first we tried to fight it, to hide behind people, but it was pointless. We finally learned lesson tree: embrace the foam.

So we joined in and took handfuls off of ourselves and threw it back. It definitely didn't take long to understand why everyone said to wear clothes you didn't really care about!

Overhead, the tent tops were pulled back and put away so we could see.

Huge jets zoomed by and a helicopter with camera men hovered above us. 

Soon, the parade started.

Everyone stood on their chairs to see better - colorful decorated floats with loud music and groups of dancers went by, encouraging cheers, dancing, and more foam. (Luckily, it smelled good and dried quickly.)

Some of the dancers had huge costumes with colorful face paint and feathered head dresses, and neary no clothes...

...and others wore traditional Colombian dress and played drums and flutes while moving to traditional music.

The same events went on more or less for hours. Dancers and music an foam and crowded people and paying for bathrooms.

Half our group finally decided to leave, and the four faithful partiers, Lili, Juan, Irfan, and I stayed longer...

...pretty much all we experienced that the others didn't, was being "welcomed" to Barranquilla by some guys rubbing chalk all over our face and hair. I convinced the boy to give me some and then...chalk fight anyone? :)

Long story short, the party continued all night with salsa dancing! Real live salsa dancing! Colombia is all about salsa, and I was fortunate enough to meet two sweet brothers who patiently taught me the basics. 

...and getting chalk and foam out of your hair is rediculous.

Sunday was more of the same, and lesson four learned: Guavabanana! A sweet street vender stopped and said hi as I was sitting outside the hotel. He gave me a cup of creamy, milky, sweet liquid and a chunk of the fruit to try. Indescribable, but so good, and it made my day! :)

The ride back was uneventful - after we finally found one. One bus station had no buses to Cartagena, and the other had a line all the way through the station and out the door. We managed to barter with a few taxi drivers, and got back for $25 (compared to $9 on the bus.)

Mann it was good to be home. I am still trying to recover from the action and sleepless nights. It was definitely well worth it! (:

Week Three Volunteering...

Today, there were armed military men on the yellow bridges.

It was the hottest day yet. Not a cloud in the sky, and not even a trace of wind. My iPod tells me it was somewhere arond 90 degrees. At the school, we are requred to wear pants past out knees. Their school is an oven, with only two to four fans to cool 30 to 40 kids. I had to leave the room to find a breeze after my eyes started getting blurry and my head was pounding. It reminded me of being in a haymow unloading hay on the hottest Wisconsin day. Except I was sweating without moving a muscle. The kids don't seem to break a sweat.

The reaction from the kids as we walk into the school never fails to make my heart absolutely melt. We are greeted by kids running to hug us and say hola, to kiss our cheeks, climb on our laps and just be held.

 

Today I was greeted by the cutest, Sara. The tiny soul gave me a tight hug and I pulled her onto my lap where she sat as she drew me a picture of a girl. 

She said it was me, and when I told her she was an artist she just smiled shyly.

There are no words do describe the feeling, but I am so happy that I decided to stay in Cartagena and volunteer one more week. The kids make me want to stay forever.

So many people here want to learn English, but the number of capable teachers is minimal. The realization that I am helping someone - even if it is only one child - to be one step closer to making their dreams come true, is amazing to me. Knowing that I can play even a small part in affecting their life and helping them learn, when they otherwise may not be able to...or even just loving them...it makes all of my problems nonexistent. I do not matter anymore, but only these precious children dying to learn and be encouraged.

After our three classes, some dear ladies at the school gave me my custom made shoes. They make them to sell, and they hand stich and cut them.

They are the most incredible sandles I have ever owned, and I got to design them myself! Seriously, so stinking amazing!! :)

For the second time, last Thursday I went to Marea, the project at the drug rehabilitation center. It is about an hour and a half journey, taking two bumpy buses and a tuk-tuk. (Imagine 4 people with backpacks crammed next to me in unbelievable heat for actual effect.)

The trip to Marea takes us past such diverse landscape. 

From city...

(Motercycles crossing a tiny pass between two highways)

 ...to dry dusty fields...

...to a lush green forest trail. (No photo available. I was too busy being in awe.)

That day I only went because it was a full day and the only other Thursday project is just two hours in the morning. I'm so glad I did though, and plan to go back twice this week.

We start out in the morning teaching English, and I had an amazing conversation with two teen boys. We practiced the alphabet, but they soon got bored and were more interested in learning about my life in Estados Unidos. (United States)

There were a few new boys, and for some reason, I felt so much sadness. I have never looked into someone's eyes and seen so much emptiness. You can tell that when the teens come to the center, they are lost, broken, and addicted. But the longer they are there, with good friends and loving volunteers to love them, you see them open up. The light returns to their eyes, and they have hope for a life without addiction.

But the first few weeks...their eyes are haunting. They sit in silence, just watching, and I would do anything to instantly  take their pain and make it better. Alas, healing is a process, and I am thankful I can be a part of it at all.

In the afternoon, we play sports! I played with a new guy...he taught me to throw a football, and I was pretty proud of myself because the first few times, I couldn't catch or throw at all, and by the end, my new friend Estaban was cheering me on and telling me I was good. Success. :)

Friday I again returned to the morning Community project, teaching English to four pretty wonderful students. I love that project, but wish it was more than two hours. But, I missed my students and was told they were asking for me, so I had to go back. I love being missed.  :')

It was a pretty great day of teaching pronouns and verbs and pronunciation, and just conversing with the Colombians. The coolest part, I found out one of my students was a dancer in the Barranquilla Festival! More on that later, but it's pretty cool to say I taught English  to a dancer in the second largest Carnaval in the world! :)

Teaching aside, I am slowly letting go of my worries from home and finally getting into being here. It is so beautiful. Such a beautiful culture. There is something here that I have never experienced in America and don't believe I ever will, and for that happy aire, part of me will never completely be at home apart from this Latin culture. 

One more week of volunteering, and then off to the unknown land of adventurous travels. :]

Kiddos and Comfort Zones

As I look at his precious face, I feel such a deep sadness. A deep unexplainable sadness, and a questioning. How God could create such a precious soul and just eight years later, let him go through what he has to go through. 

They're still kids that play and laugh and want to learn, but they have an aire about them that most kids don't have and no child should. Just an overcast sadness, knowing they are there, not quite like everyone else.

This is Funvivir - fun to live. It is a nice little house with nice rooms and beautiful people...most of which are children with cancer.

A 30 minute bus ride from our volunteer house, Funvivir is a small project with only around 4 volunteers needed for up to 10 kids.

This project is a childcare projects, meaning the volunteers just spend time with the kids, loving them, playing with them, teaching them. The kids are so excited to see the volunteers every day - a light spot to take their mind off their treatments and physical pain.

Some days, like today, the kids are alert, energetic, and happy. Other days, usually on treatment days, they are quiet and sad. 

I spent my time today playing ball, quizzing English and math with flash cards, taking photos, and making clay animals. I wanted to keep "Eduardo" the turtle forever, but my little buddy asked if he could keep him, so I kept a photo instead.

Yesterday, I went again to Nelson Mandela, so far my favorite project. It is a long day and we have to wear pants at least past our knees so it is hot, but I love being able to help the kids really learn English.

They are all so precious, but the school is chaotic. Almost every class has around 40 students for one teacher. That is why they need volunteers and appreciate us so much! We spend time going between groups, helping the kids with spelling, pronunciation, and translations. Some of the kids are so advanced and excited to learn, and others so shy they don't ask for help, even if they might want to.

In the morning we are class assistants, and in the afternoon the volunteers have their own classes for the overachievers who want extra practice.

I wish I could multiply myself or convince all my friends to come volunteer to help more children learn. They are from such a poor neighborhood and leaning English could literally  change their lives. I have never felt so valued, needed, and appreciated simply by giving of myself to help others.

(Zach and a cheerful student who loves to laugh. :))

I have to say of all the places I have been, Colombia has the scariest drivers. They have rules, but no one follows them. Rules like: no passing in a no passing zone, stopping at stop signs, one way streets, stopping for pedestrians, no pulling out in front of people....the list of unfollowed rules goes on...and I have never seen so many motorcycles or heard so many angry car horns in my life! Seriously, all of these drivers would lose their license in the states. I'm not sure if I should be entertained or afraid, but I have survived this far...!

One rule they do follow though: always lock your doors while crossing the bridges. On one stretch of road right before entering town, there are around 10 yellow railed bridges every so often.

Apparently you can't trust people on the bridges, but I have yet to find out why. I guess we can all draw our own conclusions, and ill keep my doors locked.

And finally, as our down time filler, the volunteers had a salsa night! Our dear local, Juan, taught us all...I still can't dance, but I will get there...maybe!

It has been great experiencing such a different culture, but I think I am ready to move on from Cartagena. It is getting too comfortable. I haven't decided yet if I will continue my travels next week or stay and volunteer and teach my kiddos another week...oh decisions...

It's lonely, too. Love it but hate it. Super homesick at the moment, and so frustrated at all my American friends who don't understand wanderlust. The minute you travel, dear Americans, your eyes are opened to a wonderful world you never imagined. It's not running away from life, it's running to be alive.

Here's to living the life I want. Despite the lonely homesickness.

Ciao.

Weekends, oh weekends...

The last two days have been epic. E.P.I.C.

The kind of days that make me remember how beautiful the world is. How beautiful people are. And how much fun we - people who were not long ago strangers - can have together.

And the kind of days that remind me why I travel. Why I love meeting new people. And maybe not the exact right reason, but also one of the reasons I volunteer.

 

Traveling, yeah, you meet incredible people. You hang out for a day or sometimes a week and never see them again. But when volunteering...that's when strangers become friends.

Volunteering brings like minded people together for one main purpose - to give back. We work together, plan together, improve ourselves together, get stressed out together over lesson plans and travel plans...but we also have fun together. Get to get to know each other. Talk about life and love and happiness together. And take lots of selfies together.

Weekends for volunteers are a day to breathe. All week we run from one project to another, and when not volunteering we are planning...or sleeping. It is exhausting!

So Friday - our half day - rolls around. We get off of projects early, come home, take a break and eat some food. Then go out, chill at the corner store, have some pizza and drinks while talking about every single topic under the sun. 

And then... We leave town. Head to a beach or national park. We eat coconuts and swim in oceans and play soccer and volleyball. 

This weekend we went to Juan's private beach island. Juan is a local who lives at the volunteer house during the week. 

I don't have to detail...a beach is a beach. It was so beautiful, taking a taxi through Cartagena, and then a boat to the island.

Seeing locals, hearing their talk. Their laid back way of island living...

And my favorite... Dancing. Saturday night Irfan, Lili and I headed to el centro Cartagena for some beautiful, ridiculously fun Colombian dancing. Actually a little different from Central America - more salsa and upbeat and less merangue, but still the same amazing dancers, and even better with people I have grown to love. :)

After returning from the beach Sunday, we really stressed ourselves out by spending an hour or so trying to plan next weekends trip to Barranquilla festival. That is going to be some weekend...but we found out a little late that trying to book a hotel for 12 people a week before the third (or so) largest festival in South America is pretty much a bad idea. But, all is well, and excitement is growing!! 

(Stay tuned for epic stories!)

Good, good weekend. :)