The Ugly

Thanks for your kind words, thoughts, calls, emails, posts, etc regarding what happened last weekend. I really appreciate having a strong, supportive backing- you don't know how much that means to me. 
I did, however, have ONE bad response. This person told me that I couldn't have been drugged- i must be making it up because I was too coherent to be writing a blog at 4:30am. They also told me that I was probably being called an escort because I had probably been sleeping around in Cartagena, so it was probably justified. 
I don't feel the need to justify myself because I know me...and I have absolutely no reason to lie. Plus, the last thing I came here to do was find a boyfriend (need proof? see El Mundo Machista). I was utterly shocked at this response, but I suppose everyone is entitled to their own opinion. But just like them, I can say what I feel.
So, without further adieu, I would like to tell that person to F off.

Eyes Wide Open...at 4:30am

I thought to myself tonight that I probably shouldn't write this blog. I didn't want people to worry about traveling to Colombia. The drug wars and horror stories from 30+ to 10 years ago were enough to destroy Colombian tourism for years, I didn't want to add anything else. But, as I wrote in my first blog, I want to tell anyone who reads this the raw truth about my experiences here. I absolutely love Colombia. I feel very comfortable here, and Colombians are extremely friendly and helpful. The beauty of Colombia cannot be overlooked- from the people to the landscape to the music. I have tried to immerse myself in the culture as much as possible and I'm passionate about bringing more and more people here to share this gem of a country. I can't say the same about a few other countries (1 in South America) that I've been to.
Tonight was my boss's last night. He told our French clients that we were going out to a local discoteca after dinner. The Frenchmen insisted on coming (with the Colombian escort I mentioned below). I really didn't want to go this time, but felt obliged since it was my boss's last night, so we left for dinner. On the way, the Colombian girl waited till we were alone and told me that a girl she knows, who was at one of the discotecas we had gone to, had seen me and commented that she was pretty sure that I was an escort too. She said that she had seen me walking through the city several times with different foreign men. The girl I knew argued with her for awhile, telling her that I worked for a hotel and often gave tours or was around tourists. I thanked her for setting the record straight, but she warned me that I should wear a badge so people know that I work for a legit business. Apparently, word spreads quick since I've only been here for 6 weeks. Needless to say, this made me more paranoid about going out with these people.
I suffered through dinner, exhausted, waiting for what seemed to be an eternity for everyone to finish eating. I noticed, however, that one of the French guys had been in the bathroom for quite a long time. When he got back he was acting a little abnormal. I know when someone is high and I'm 90% sure he indulged in a lil' cocaine while in the men's room. This also made me feel uncomfortable. My boss and I had a second to chat while the 2 Frenchmen and this girl went out to smoke a cigarette- they were very jumpy about leaving all of a sudden. I explained to my boss how I felt and told him I was going straight home and skipping the club. While disappointed, he totally understood and felt terrible that I was put in that position- I hadn't told him how I felt about walking around the city with this girl and these guys before tonight. The last thing I need here is a bad rep. I noticed, however, that I began to feel VERY strange. I was talking, but I was shaky and nervous. I decided I was just upset and very tired so I hurried the rest of the convo so we could leave.
We walked a few more minutes together towards my hotel and this chica told me more about her paranoia walking around town knowing that people know what kind of business she is in, which in turn made me more paranoid. Finally, I got a chance to split off from the group with my boss and we started chatting about everything that had happened. My boss randomly noted that he, too, felt very strange. He said he felt like he was flying. Scratching my head, I noticed that I felt the same way...we started talking about our symptoms and soon realized that we had been drugged.
Ok...so I was sitting at the same table, never got up, never saw any weird movement around my cup, and can't imagine why a restaurant would drug their customers, but I know how it feels to be on drugs. All of a sudden my head was warm, pupils dilated, my senses were definitely heightened, and dammit...I felt like i was on Ecstasy or cocaine. Confused at how this could've happened, my boss and I started walking home a little faster. I saw several people I knew on the way home (furthering my paranoia about how small this city is and how this negative gossip about me being an escort could be spread quickly if i continued to hang out with this really sweet, but confused girl). We made a b-line to our hotel and drank several cups of water (how many signs do you need??).
I can't say I completely trust these French guys, but I don't get how, nor why they would try to drug Anthony and I. I was PISSED off that someone could do this to me. How do they know I'm not allergic or have bad reactions to drugs?? How do they know I'll live to the next day? I decide what goes in my body- no one else does (well, unless it's an authorized doctor who I trust). One of these guys had taken his antibiotics before he starting drinking (never a good idea) and the other was sniffing powder in the bathroom, both were very disappointed that I wasn't coming out (which is odd cuz we've never had a long, good convo- they're not interesting people & I don't try to talk to them unless forced)...I have no strong defense, nor strong evidence.
Whoever did it better hope I don't find out about it. I am through forcing smiles and being polite. I was exhausted at 10pm before we left, all through dinner, which lasted until 1am, and now, at 4:30am, I'm WIDE awake. While I'm positive I didn't get a full dose, I know what I had. I'm extremely disappointed in someone, I just don't know who. I should've listened to my mom's advice, and lied to get out of dinner. I know this may worry friends and family, but I do not feel in danger here. While I can't be certain who drugged us, I lean quite a bit more toward the French guys over the Colombians from the busy, semi-fancy restaurant in the Old City. It's a pity that some people feel the need to control others in any fashion possible, but at least I got out before anything else happened. Someone's looking out for me...and I'm definitely grateful for that.

El Mundo Machista

Yesterday I went with my boss, two male French tourists, and a Colombian chica on a private boat tour to the Rosario Islands. I thought it was really nice of the two Frenchmen to invite me to come along considering I wouldn't be able to afford a private boat by myself. We went to Isla Cholón for the day, which is a private island opposite Isla de Baru (where Playa Blanca is located). On the way over, we spotted a school of 10 dolphins- it made me want to go diving again soon. The water was super warm, clear, and calm on Colón so we were able to sit in the water and talk.

I got a chance to talk quite a bit with the Colombian girl who had come along. I was baffled by her decision to be with this tourist because she is so beautiful and nice- not that he isn't, but he is significantly older (upper 30s) and not anything special. She told me she was 24 and from Bogotá, but had come to Cartagena to make more money for herself and her 7-year old son. She said she had left Bogotá in a hurry because she was trying to get away from her ex, who she described as 'machismo.' She said that a lot of the men here are 'machismo'- definitely not the first time I've heard about this (our Spanish class even had a discussion about 'machismo' in Colombia in comparison to the US). This woman's ex didn't allow her to work or study, he never allowed her to pay for things, and to top it off, he was physically abusing her. He was obviously trying to control everything she did. She told me that she had wanted to be more independent and in control, so she got up and left.
Interested, I asked what line of work she was in and she then told me she was working at that moment. This beautiful girl who studied through college, found the courage to leave an abusive relationship, and wanted to become more independent and in control, had decided to become an escort. I was so disappointed and told her that she could do much better. I didn't want to be too aggressive with my words, but I outright told her that she was in the wrong line of work. I didn't understand how she felt like she was in control of 'machismo' if she was an escort. Yes, I understand that women in jobs such as these feel in control because they decide who they want to go home with and sleep with, but in the end, I have always felt that they are simply a product for sale.
So while it was nice to have food and drinks paid for and to be able to go on a private boat trip, I felt extremely uncomfortable after I learned more about these guys. I didn't want them to feel in control of me, buying me everything (Note: while writing this, my boss told me that their credit card had been declined over 5 times. We figured they were spending a lot of cash and thought it best to ask for their payment now rather than wait...hmph). Plus, as nice as this girl was, I didn't want locals to think I was in the same line of work!

I wonder how being an escort makes her feel. She is definitely working this deal to her advantage- got a new pair of shoes, convinced him to buy tix to a reggaeton concert, got good food, drinks, private boat trip, and a lot of cash, but there were times when she looked very uneasy. My boss told me that our French clients wanted to take him and I out, and we should really go to be polite. I went because I wanted to see how she was treated and because I'd get to see a few of the elite clubs I had never been to so I could tell future clients about them. These are the types of tourists who like to sleep all day and party until 6 am, so I knew it would be a different kind of noche. This chica looked uncomfortable at various times during the night and would come up to me and tell me that she saw a guy who had used her services or that she saw other girls in the same business. I'm not sure if she was embarrassed to see people she knew because they knew what she was doing or what the situation was exactly. (Picture note: Just being silly in the pic to the right...ha!)
At first I was surprised at the amount of girls partaking in the escort business (they were at the ritzy clubs as well as the cheaper ones), but then I figured they're a product in demand and 'machismo' definitely plays a role in this demand. This girl was used to being treated in this manner by her 'machismo' boyfriend, so I'm assuming her situation is pretty common. My co-worker said the escort business is so big here that it's almost normal for girls to get into this business. While 'machismo' varies by culture, Colombian women have seen the opportunity to sell their company as the 'subordinate' and try to use it to their profit. It's an interesting dynamic. Who's using who? Either way, it's a problem that needs to be addressed here (and everywhere) and seems to be overlooked, especially during busy holidays like Cartagena's Independence Day/National Beauty Pageant.
Machismo deserves more discussion, but I don't have time to write more. I have a feeling this topic will come up quite a bit during my travels as I observe the culture here and try to figure out what exactly happened with my birth father who disappeared on my birth mom when she was pregnant with me. To be continued....{Title accredited to Lizety, my co-worker and amiga, who said it while we were talking about machismo guys all over the world}

Beauty or Independence?

Cartagena gained its independence from Spain on Nov. 11th, 1811 (well, it was actually definitively won in 1821 b/c Spain took back this city while Colombia struggled to regain its independence). Regardless, November 11th has become of extreme importance to Colombia. Not only does today mark Cartagena's independence from Spain, it's also one of the many days that Miss Colombia is celebrated.
To foreigners, this is an odd combo. In the States, no one seems to care about the Miss America Pageant. I think the last time I watched it was back in Elementary school because it fell on the same day as my friend's b-day sleep-over. But to Colombia, the National Beauty Pageant is HUGE. Hotel owners increase their room rates (not Casa Sweety though :)), bars claim they have a cover charge, tour operators charge more for excursions, and bar owners from Bogotá, Medellín, and Barranquilla shut down their clubs and open up shop in Cartagena. Thousands of Colombians flock here for the fiestas, parades, fireworks, and good times! The Beauty Pageant contestants were welcomed this year by dozens of navy officers singing from atop their ship's mast with fireworks going off in the background...quite the spectacle.
What I wonder is if Colombia would explode with the same enthusiasm if the Beauty Pageant wasn't held on the same day. Miss Colombia seems to be the talk of the town....i haven't heard anyone talking about Independence Day. Even newscasters judge every detail of these women. It's hard for me to take it so seriously. People are hypnotized when one of the contestants is nearby.
I just think Colombians place a lot of importance on a person's beauty. Men are constantly whistling and calling after pretty girls (i've had to relax my mentality on this), and women don't take it offensively here. The women all tell me it's just a man's way of complimenting a woman. Still don't buy it, but that way of thinking does help change the way I feel about it. It's still degrading to me, but I'm trying to assimilate into their culture to fully understand what it's like for a woman here. My girl friends from Colombia were shocked when I told them that if a man did that in the workplace in the States, they'd be charged with sexual harassment. I've come to realize that 'sexual harassment' doesn't have quite the same connotation in Colombia.

While women might not be completely equal with men in the States, they sure have it better than in Colombia. In that regard, I know I was lucky to have such great opportunities available to me and even luckier to understand that it doesn't have to be this way....
I'm still not sure what it is we've been celebrating the past few weeks, but it's hard not to enjoy it! The tradition of spraying anyone who walks by with white foam and water is actually pretty fun. Constant music, colorful parades, lively atmosphere, no work for 2.5 days - can't get much better than that!  People in Cartagena seem to be having the time of their life, so it doesn't really matter what they're celebrating as long as everyone's happy...right?!

"Enter"

When I was little, my parents got a phone call from Leo, the liaison who had helped them through the process of my adoption. He said that my orphanage in Cali had called and told him that my birth mother had passed away. Leo also said that often orphanages will relay that message to the new family so that the child won’t come back to look for his/her birth parents, but he really couldn’t be sure in our situation.

My parents immediately told me. I was always grateful for their honesty and openness about my adoption. As far back as I can remember, they were always reading me children’s books on adoption, asking if I wanted to know more about what it meant and how I felt about it, what I could say to other kids who didn’t understand why I looked different than my parents and brother (kids could be pretty brutal and say nasty things- even today, I still get childish adults saying nasty things), etc. Truthfully at that age, I don’t remember how I felt finding out about my birth mother possibly passing away, but it has always stayed in the back of my mind.

As I grew up, I chose not to believe it. I didn’t want to think that I could never find my birth family. I’ve always wanted to look for them, but have been scared for multiple reasons of which I’m sure will come up in upcoming blogs.

Today I decided to do more research. I read on a random forum that if you have someone’s cedula (Colombian ID card) number, you can enter it into the Colombian election registration database and see whether or not they’re registered to vote. I found the link, entered the number I have for my birth mother and paused. I hesitated because I didn’t want there to be nothing at the end of the link. I thought about it, realized I was thinking way too much, and pressed ‘Enter.’

Sure enough, my birth mother registered to vote 2 years ago in Cali…the same city I was born in 28 years ago, and the same city I walked around in for the first time 8 months ago. I was so emotional because it was the first time I had confirmation that as of at least 2 years ago, she was alive. She exists…and that to me is priceless information.

The next step is to locate a lawyer I can trust who can search for more information using her cedula. Then I’ll know if there really is someone at the other end of “Enter.”

¿Hablas Español?

No matter where I am, people always make assumptions. Assumptions on my background, my first language, my education level, my social status, you name it. One of the most bothersome assumptions for me is what language I speak. It may seem harmless to you, but it has always brought up issues for me. Ok, so I'll give it to you- I look Colombian...or Mexican...or like i'm from some other Latin American country, but does that mean I MUST speak Spanish? 

Growing up, I had a hard time dealing with this language barrier issue. Before I graduated college, if someone started to talk to me in Spanish 7,000 words per minute, I would try to discern what it was they were asking. When I attempted a response, I'd always get the same confused, bewildered look accompanied by the response, "Como??" Then I felt obliged to explain myself, and went into detail about how I was adopted when I was three months old by parents who didn't speak Spanish at all. I'd always get a sympathetic look from these strangers, like they felt sorry for me or something. These conversations never left a good feeling inside.

 

After college, I decided to change my routine. Instead of try to understand someone speaking fluently to me, I'd interrupt them and say that I spoke English, or I'd simply reply in English. They'd laugh and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, I just assumed you spoke Spanish." I'd shrug my shoulders like I had no clue why they'd assume such a thing and continue on my way. This still didn't make me feel better about myself, but at least I didn't get their pity.

I felt like I’d been a walking insult to my ethnicity for my entire life. I was the one who should be able to speak Spanish fluently, but my best friend could always rattle it off faster than I could...and she's white! I kept my mouth shut and never advanced because I never even tried. I was just too scared of the assumptions and the judgement that always followed. I didn't want to have to explain myself anymore because I felt terrible for “loosing” my Colombian background. 

Now that I’m here in Colombia, things have started to change. The first few weeks, I was so used to feeling bad about not really knowing what being Colombian meant that I tried to hide the fact that I was born here. I didn’t want people to think I had shunned my Colombian heritage because I wasn’t fluent and couldn’t dance to salsa. But that feeling has started to disappear.

I’m proud to say I was born in Colombia now. I’m still not fluent and I'm still learning new salsa moves, but I can hold my own in Spanish and on the dance floor. People still try to guess where I’m from, and most of them know I’m Colombian, but just don’t understand why I’m speaking differently. I have no problem letting them know now that I’m here on a mission. Not one person here has made me feel bad about that. Everyone wishes me well, and even tries to offer advice or help in some way- be it teaching me the dances, finding a lawyer to help search for my birth mom, taking me to their barrios to experience life outside the tourist cities, filling me in on Colombia’s history, or just letting me know that Colombian women are some of the prettiest in the world- like I didn’t already know. ;)  I must say, that does leave a good feeling inside. 

Connected

Cell phones are a part of everyday life in the US. They're becoming more common here, too, but it's still difficult for many to pay for even the most basic cell phones. Cell phone plans are rare. Most Colombians have cells that allow you to pay as you go, and you're not charged for calls received. I got a cell that sends me text messages letting me know that if I add $ to my phone, it'll triple in value (so if i put $5 down, they'll give me $15 worth of minutes/texts). These deals are great for me, but makes me wonder how cell phone plans are faring in Colombia.

There are still options for those who don't have a cell phone or don't have the money to increase their minutes to make a quick call. It's really quite interesting because even in the smallest towns (those without running water and consistent electricity), you can still call someone from a community cell phone. In Colombia, there are vendors sitting outside at wooden tables operating with a single cell phone...or three. It costs about $150 Colombian pesos ($.08 US) per minute to make a domestic phone call on these cell phones. Lots of Colombians use this method of calling because it's just so convenient. It's also turning out to be a great business for small entrepreneurs. I've seen lines of 4-5 people waiting to talk on these communal phones on every other corner. Hell, they're way more popular than the Juan Valdez coffee shop down the street. I haven't thought to take a pic of these vendors yet, but I'll snap one of my own to add to this blog later. 
I've heard that in South Africa, communal cell phones are quite popular in small villages. These don't function exactly the same way, but the concept is similar. There is a communal cell phone that people can make calls from, but one person will take the role of an "operator" who notifies their neighbor down the street when they have a phone call. While this would be too difficult for a large city like Cartagena, it makes sense for a small village to have some sort of access to the outside world. After all, being "connected" is seen by many as a sign of progression for these countries. Colombians have found a way to stay "connected," in every sense of the word,...and are constantly working hard to change people's perspective of their country. In that respect, they're really not so different than you and me.

Salsa...the salsa (Spanish word for sauce).

Living in San Diego the past 6 years, you might say I have a slight addiction to Mexican food. I eat it on a regular basis and I'm sure you know how much spice Mexicans throw on everything from fruit to tacos. The majority of Colombians I know, on the other hand, can hardly stand spice. All my meals at Casa Sweety, the B&B i'm working at, are prepared without spice. Fish (usually fried), potatoes, a WHOLE lot of rice, platanos (fried, boiled, or sweetened), beef, chicken (usually fried), sancocho (fish soup), arepas (fried food made of primarily corn, egg, and cheese), chicken, beef, or egg soup, and lots of exotic fruits make up my diet here. It's definitely not the healthiest- notice I didn't mention any vegetables, and it definitely lacks a lot of spice. My co-workers (feel weird calling them that since they're more like family now) are always making fun of me because they think it's so strange to put so much aji (spice) on my food. They always have a worried look on their face when they watch me pour aji all over my food! haha
This is interesting to me because restaurants out here serve Caribbean food, which is a fusion of a lot of different cuisines and has so much flavor and tang (the lime and coconut together = YUM). I thought the Creole influence would make for a spicier cuisine, but the majority of people here steer away from it. They tend to stick to what they know, so you won't find too many ethnic foods out here. This is especially true of the non-elite, who must bulk up on rice in order to get enough food in their stomachs and don't have the $ to try these "fancy," ethnic foods or restaurants. 
Last week, my friend Sarah (who's from San Francisco) and I decided to make home-made salsa, guacamole, and chicken tacos for the three that were working that day. I had no idea how hard it would be to find tortillas, jalapenos, and tortilla chips in Colombia (we never did find black beans...). We ended up having to settle for individual-bag servings of tortilla chips (which were butter and cheese flavored, mind u) and pinto beans. Needless to say, my friends at the B&B were terrified to try it. All of them, except one, loved the salsa (which we dulled down quite a bit) and guacamole, but the chicken had "too many peppers in it." I'm talking about bell peppers, which you probably know have no more spice than a regular tomato! One girl didn't like the guacamole because of the spice, which i finally figured out was the garlic we had added.

Don't even get me started on how they feel about sushi here! I was lucky enough to have found a very good sushi place here called Tabetai. It's owned by a Venezuelan guy who is super friendly and ended up making me a mojito on the house last night (Cartagena is known for their delicious mojitos). If you're ever in the San Diego area, i highly recommend Tabetai. They have an awesome fusion of foods- next to try is their Temaki (cone-shaped sushi) filled with ceviche! The Colombians I know won't go near sushi though since it's relatively new around here and they prefer their fish fried.
Anyway, Sarah and I devoured our portion of the Mexican food we had prepared. It was a nice treat, which I doubt i'll be having more of in the near future. It did make me happy that my parents raised me to like all types of foods, or at least give them a try! I wonder if I would've ventured out to try ethnic food if i was raised by my Colombian family...
Viva Salsa (the sauce)!

Festival de Tambores

The second weekend I was here, I went with new friends to San Basilio de Palenque (a little village about an hour and a half from Cartagena) for their annual Drum Festival. What we discovered in this tiny pueblo, I will not soon forget! 
Palenque, a Spanish word for a fortified village of runaway slaves, is unlike Cartagena in MANY ways. They are trying to salvage their culture from outsiders and do so by hosting this drum festival every year and by continuing to speak in their native lengua (tongue), Palenquero. Palenquero may actually be the last resemblance of a Spanish-based lingua franca, which was used long ago slaves in South America.
Unfortunately, I didn't learn much about the language and definitely could not understand a word of it, but I learned a lot by watching and listening to the music and accompanying dances. From Afro-Colombian to Colombo-Indian, I learned about the progression and origin of styles of dance popular here in the Caribbean, specifically Colombia. It was absolutely beautiful- even through the rain (only rained for about 1 hour).
My friends and I watched the dances from 1pm - 2 am (some watched til 3 when the music seemed to take a break). Around 5am, a procession of drums went around the town waking up anyone who went to bed. We also saw races...not your ordinary races though. It looks difficult enough to balance a 10 lb container of water on your head, but try RUNNING with it on your head! ! These women actually had a race to see who could make it to the finish line the fastest without tipping the bucket over! Incredible!! The men had a potato sack race, which wasn't nearly as difficult; they were pretty quick though.

Palenque is out in the middle of nowhere, so there was NO breeze and it was SUPER hot there- I'd say 95-100, plus humidity. To cool off, my friends and i ventured to the river nearby. It was pretty muddy, but definitely worth a dip. I ended up being the only girl to jump off a 40ft cliff (estimation) into the 8-ft deep water below. Man oh man was it worth it! haha A bit scary climbing up to the top, but this trip is all about new, exciting experiences so i thought, "why not??" The way up is slippery from the mud and it's hard to secure your footing b/c it's steep...oh, and there's a fun little patch of barbed wire to cross too. I did it though, and about 5 minutes later (after several deep breaths), I proceeded to run and jump off the cliff...twice. :) 
Sleeping in hammocks with mosquito nets, meeting world travelers, learning about new cultures, taking bucket showers, dancing my a$$ off, swimming in muddy river water, hanging out in private drum circles away from the stage, and testing some of their (all-) fried cuisine was all part of the experience, and I loved every second! 

Cartagena

Finally made it Cartagena, Colombia after months and months of talking about it. Talking about doing something risky and actually doing it are very different. I realized that there are two types of people in the world- those who take risks and those who don't. I figured out which group I wanted to belong to, and went for it. I quit my job, sold most of my belongings, moved out, and left San Diego (maybe for good).

I started working for Casa Sweety, a small, gorgeous Bed and Breakfast in Cartagena, and taking classes at Nueva Lengua as soon as i got here. The deal I made with Sir Anthony (the owner of Casa Sweety) is that i'll live and eat here for free plus earn commission in exchange for updating his website, S.E.O, giving his clients free 1-2 hour orientation tours of the city,  teaching the staff English, and helping the girls to write emails to clients in English. I have plenty of ideas to improve Casa Sweety as a whole and have been exploring the possibility of opening a tour-guiding business.

I've been busy here while trying to get my head around the city, taking 4-hour Spanish classes, and finding myself a sofa bed, closet, air conditioner, cell phone, etc, so i haven't had much of a chance to start concentrating on the tour-guiding business. I hope to dedicate more of my time this week to figuring it out. It has been nice window shopping at small "shops" along the road to furnish my room, but I want to get started already! I see a lot of potential in this city if i just play my cards right.

Cheers to possibility! ;)