Fausse Parisienne

Oh Happy Day goes to Paris

Jordan, an American mom and party planner has a year in Paris and to celelbrate the 5 year anniversary of her wonderful blog she's giving away a trip to Paris. You can enter here:

Oh Happy Day goes to Paris

Salento

The countdown to the exodus has begun. I've started to try to do all the things that I've kept putting off. One of those things was a day trip to Salento. Salento is a small town north of Manizales. There's not a lot to do but relax. The weather is damp and cold, but that's why it is green and lush. There were a lot of people wearing wellies. It seems that the hostel rent them out. I wore converse. I'm not always very nature adept.

We took a jeep down to the Corcora valley to check out the wax palms, Colombia's national tree, and the trout farm. We ate trout then headed back to town for some sitting around and shopping. That was enough for me. Perhaps more natury type people can find more to do, but for me a day was just enough.

 

 

 

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

Teacher keeps her Kindergarden classroom calm during a narcotics gun fight

Whenever I visit home and people find out that I live and teach in Colombia the first question is "Aren't you scared?"

My reply is always, "I'll go to Colombia before I'll go to Mexico." Being that I live in south Texas very near to Mexico there is usually an understanding, yet some people still don't get it. My guess is that they don't watch the news.

Colombia has a bad rap, whereas, Mexico our neighborhood in which weekend trips to the border are as common as trips to Grandma's house. In my three years since I left Texas it seems to have been a downward spiral and nothing so clearly states that to me as this video.

 

 

This teacher's ability to remain calm despite the horrifying actions happening outside her window borders on superhuman. As a teacher I simply cannot imagine it. This is bravery.

Santa Rosa Termales

With the support of my good friend, Kelly, I got off my sad sack, heart-broken ass and made a day trip out of Manizales to Santa Rosa to take a dip in their thermal springs. Now I'm not sure how getting myself into a bikini is a way to bolster my self-confidence, but it seems to have worked in tandem with the warm spring and gorgeous waterfall.

 


So I did the best I could. I dipped in the springs; I laughed at the bus ride. I wish it had been under better circumstances, but c'est la vie.

I'm hoping to go back again before I leave, definitely more prepared. A good weekend there as the entrance fee is 30,000 pesos for 30 minutes or all day. Because of the recent landslide issues here we headed back before night, which I'm sure is spectacular.

http://www.termales.com.co/

 

My Solo Semana Santa - Manizales

As Eddie Izzard would say "Busy Busy Fog".... this could be the mantra of Manizales these days.

 

 

 

This is the norm except it's particularly painful as this week is spring break in Colombia, actually Semana Santa, but that doesn't mean much to me as I don't personally know any saints.

Traveling will be difficult because there has been torrential rain that has caused land slides to block many roads and a little personal detail in my life that has leant itself to too many Daniel Johnston songs.

 

Anyhow the plans were we would spend a couple of days in Rio Claro at an eco-park convening with nature then some days in Medellin and Bogota. Instead I will spend the time in Manizales. The best hope is that I can get away from Salento and avoid the mean sidewalks of Manizales.

Also I must perfect this...

 

Silvia Tcherassi and Payless

Acclaimed Colombian designer Silvia Tcherassi has recently been announced as the new guest designer at Payless Shoes.

We recently got a "Payless" here in Manizales. The same shoes I bought in Texas over summer for less than 6$ run at about 25$ here in Colombia. Anything imported from the states is apparently taxed to death.

 

Anyhow Tcherassi certainly brings a definite Colombian-ness into her design. Most noted in her Mochilas.

People are calling her "revolutionary", but seriously these are just beaded versions of a uni-sex sack that everyone in Colombia seems to carry. Yet they sell for hundreds of dollars and he one of a kind pieces go for many times that.

Personally, I don't get it. I see nothing aesthetically pleasing or even functional about these bags. But people seem to love them and who am I go to against "people."

The shoes that have been widely photographed for this collarboration are also very typical of Colombian style. High and Racy. Even if pretty synthetic looking. Again I'm not getting it, but I've heard many a squeals over this.

Of course I have no idea what I am talking about. You know it's all personal, but I'll never understand Colombian style. Just like I never got the whole "strappy sandal" Sex and The City thing...and I'm perfectly okay with that.

Japan

 

Ch...ch...ch...ch...Changes: The Elusive International Teaching Job Hunt

Anyhow Winter Break  was generally uneventful in the larger scale of things.

I came back to Manizales, worked for a couple of weeks and took off again to Boston for the Search Associates Cambridge Fair, conveniently scheduled during a blizzard.

My co-worker Lexi and I had to stay over in Houston one night due to weather. Hotel bars are strange. A very drunk older woman did the following things:

• told me she had Hep C and was HIV positive
• said that Hep C treatment is the worst thing in the world to go through, and she should know because she's a recovered drug addict
• stuck her finger in my cleavage
• bemoaned that Lexi and I were not a couple because we'd be "hot"
• purred "Meow, meow, meow; that says it all." to which I replied, "That might say too much."
• did a drive-by triple ass smacking while I was waiting for the elevator

 

Yeah, she was fun.

But the next day we met deputies who let us see their gun and allowed me to try on leg irons and handcuffs. That was more fun. There are pictures, but this is the internet and all...

 

Anyhow we made it to Boston. Boston where I, along with  Lexi and my new roomie Elizabeth,  braved snow banks and ice in order to hike to Trader Joe's. We got lost, walked a mile out of our way when we passed a young man and asked him where to go. He works at TJ apparently so we just followed him to work like little lemmings.

 
This picture is from the first night after registration. I had already had a one and a half hour pre-interview with a school. If you haven't been to an international teaching recruitment fair, this is a very good sign.

The next day though it really BEGAN.

I was lucky, extremely lucky. Every school I was interested in had put  a slip in my file asking me to sign up for an interview.

Here's a little run-down of the fair process.

Day One: First you register and run into the candidate lounge to look in a hanging file with your name on it. This is were potential schools will ask you to interview and later will reject you with a kind little note.

Then we go to orientation where sit and listen to advice and you scope out your competition.

Day Two: You wake up way too early because wondering if your box has new requests in it makes sleep pretty much unobtainable.

At 7 am you start to browse through the listings at the sign-up. The sign-up works like this: the schools have tables places around the edges of a large ballroom with listings of openings on good old newsprint. You wait in line to convince them in one minute or less that they should interview you. While waiting in line you hope to God the director, principal etc. does not turn around and mark out the position with the big black sharpie marker of death.

Once in front of the table you flash a teethy grin and tell them why you are so awesome and they should totally want to get to know you. It's like really intensive speed dating.

This is why I was lucky. I just walked up and they knew I was coming and let me sign up with only a "How are you?" "Nice to meet you." precursor. This is where the easiness ends. Although I did go into a couple of lines to ask for interviews for some of the schools that I didn't know much about. One rejection and one "let me keep your resume and we'll get back to you" which I ended up with an interview for on the very next day.

I did end up with a surprise request for an interview from the International School in Kathmandu. Now I must say this was pretty exciting as it's an awesome school that lots of people would give their hind teeth to work at. But I don't think I'm that exotic or adventuring. I was flattered that they were interested and relieved when I got rejected.

At the sign-up I went back to the school I had pre-interviewed with. They had two seriously long lines and it gave me a bit of a heart-jump of panic. The principal asked me to sign-up for a follow-up interview and I was relieved.

My first two interviews were with two schools in Switzerland that I was really stoked about. The first only lasted 15 minutes, not good. The second went well, as later I got a call from the principal asking for a second interview the next day that needed an hour. Score! My third interview was with the school I had met with previously. I got an offer. I got an offer on the second hour or scheduled interviews. Yikes.

This is great and exciting, but you only have 24 hours to give a "yes" or "no". Not bad except I had just started interviewing and had no idea what else was out there. It took a lot of strength not to just jump up and yell "Yes!" and spend the rest of the weekend swimming in the heated pool and eating pastries from Starbucks.

Day Three: So my hour long interview was one hour before my deadline. The school's presentation ran into my deadline hour. I spend some serious time investigating the schools, panicking and after a few nervous tears I said "Yes" to the initial offer. 

Within the hour I was signing over my life for the next two years. I was lucky to have meet some incredibly amazing women at the fair. It just so happens that one of them also accepted a job at the same school and we signed our contracts together in relentless giddiness.

So I will be leaving Colombia in June and beginning my a new life in August in Bucharest, Romania.

 

Someday I will end up in Paris, but for now it's all about "Little Paris"

 

Winter Break

Yes, it has been months since I have written. I have an excuse......"is because"....(ok inside joke for those ESL teachers)...

 

I was busy.

Firstly, I went back to dear old Texas for winter break. I stayed at my Dad's house and had to ask to borrow cars. It was a lot like going back in time, except when I was 16 I had less wrinkles, less acne and my own car.

Anyhow my dad had grown his winter beard and it had grown in quite white. My sister-in-law Carrie said he looked like Dos Equis's "The Most Interesting Man in the World".

 

I decided to call him "The Least Interested Man in the World" since if it doesn't have to do with the farm, growing corn or some inventive new irrigation technique, it doesn't really peak his interest. Once when I moved back to San Antonio in my 20s I asked him if he wanted to see my new apartment. He said, "That's like me asking you if you want to see my new tractor."

Yep I get my tact from my Dad.

 

And, for better or for worse, a lot of my sense of humor.

 

 

 

 

Ley Seca

When moving to a new country in which you don't know the language inevitably you learn the most necessary and frequently used words first.

Other than greetings, which is an entire dictionary in and of itself in Colombia, you learn basic questions and two of the most horrifying words in the Spanish language... "Ley Seca."

         "Ley Seca."Revista Yucatán." Revista Yucatán | Director José Luis Preciado. Web. 08 Dec. 2010. <http://www.revistayucatan.com/v1/2010/05/13/cuenta-regresiva-a-“ley-seca”/>.

Ley Seca literally translates into Dry Law otherwise known as "prohibition" but without the cool 1920's fashion, music and speakeasies. Ley Seca is usually reserved for important political days such as elections. It is a little surprising that its not used on religious days here. Colombia is uber-catholic, even though the church lost its official status in the 90s.

Last Sunday all I wanted to do was making some mulled wine and use my last can of pumpkin puree, a highly prized commodity brought for me from friends visiting from the states. I went to the grocery store and bought all the needed spices. I skipped along merrily to the wine aisle and horror of horrors I saw white cash register tape crossing off the enterance to the aisle with the cruel words "Ley Seca" written in red marker.

While I had noticed on my walk to the store several policemen on the street, some guarding oversized citywide Christmas decoration with newly erected barracades, little did I expect this to lead to the demise of my happy Sunday plans. Upon returning wineless to my apartment I asked my door man what was up with the Ley Seca.

Football.........seriously........Football.

Soccer has yet again brought minor disaster to my life. Apparently the Once Caldas team is doing quite well and was up in a big match against National, a team from Medellin. Afraid of soccer hooliganism they didn't sale alcohol until after the match. Not sure how drinking afterwards would prevent this, as well as the fact that I've noticed most fans seem well prepared in advance. Except for the throngs of teenage boys asking me for a few pesos so they can get into the match. Although I'm pretty sure they had prepared for the drinking portion.

My apartment looks down upon the stadium; therefore, I generally know what's going on during the match wether I'd like to or not. My neighborhood is in "strata 6" which is the "good" part of town. Each part of the city is labeled by a strata depending on the wealth of the residents and the property value. They range from 1 to 6, 6 being the highest, which means it gets charged the most for utilities in order to subsidize the lower stratas. The system I rather like.

But many of the fans are from the lower strata so it seems that many people in my neighborhood stay inside unless going to the match. The Colombians I've met generally fear the lower strata. This seems to be a global commonality.

Anyhow I just don't like the crowds so I arranged to walk my dog before the match let out. While walking along a man on the other side of the street decided to yell "Jackie Chan" at me repeatedly. Apparently, he had prepared for "Ley Seca."