Bogotá sits at 2,660 meters. That means two things that Matt(hew) does are highly affected by the altitute: drinking and walking. I never got the soroche altitude sickness that is so common here, and at first I thought that I had actually escaped any effects from the height whatsoever. This was proved wrong.
The first moment I really go the point was when I met with Mike Hower for a few drinks the other night. While prepping to come to Colombia, I found a blog called The Tall Gringo, by a Californian living and teaching English here in Bogotá. I sent him an e-mail telling him how helpful I found his reflections, and he said he was grateful, and that if I ever wanted to get a beer while in town, I should contact him. I did, and during the Bachelorette party that took Caro away for a bit, I met up with him and some of his friends. I had I think about 4 beers, maybe 5, in three or four hours. Well, well within my usual drinking capacity, but I found myself quite tipsy. Luckily Caro came around and hung out for a while and she more or less guided me home. I wasn't really drunk, but I was surprised that I was a tired as I was. I then woke up with a really bad hangover, which I am totally unaccustomed to, and so whined about incessantly. I looked up articles of decent repute saying that depending on the study you look at, being at 3000 meters or above can be anything from an almost doubling of the effect of alcohol, to a nil effect "that's an urban legend" level. I don't know about the science of the studies, but I don't believe for a second that going from sea level to 2700 m makes no difference on alcohol. Just saying y'all, just saying. Incidentally the conversation was good, as was the beer.
Stairs get a mention regarding altitude, because I don't get tired walking around here in Bogotá, but I feel the altitude in the stairs. It doesn't take many stairs to feel it. I guess it's just remarkable, because I know how my body feels doing exercise. If I go up 100 stairs, I know basically how much my legs should burn, how much I should be sweating, how winded I should be, I have a good sense of it. Here, though, it's all out of kilter. I go up the stairs at a light job and there's no heating up, no heavy legs, but my chest just feels like it has no air. I am not a barrel-chested man, but I can see how that would be useful. I wonder how long it would take for me to get use to it...
Final point on cooking: I have never lived in a house with a servant. But Belmita cleans everything, does all the cooking and the dishes. I find this slightly unusual, and also a bit galling what with my egalitarian streak. I've cooked a few times, but it's with air of indulgence, like I'm stretching the house's norms a bit. Everyone's fine, and no one one really cares, but I do sometimes just do my dishes really quickly, and once Belmita saw me and just quietly thanked me and laughed. Matt(hew) has no kitchen of homey cooking in Bogotá...
Till next!
Monday, August 22, 2011
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Playing Catch Up
Been in Colombia for about five days now, and there has been a lot of Colombian-ness afoot. Every night I come back to Caro's house too tired to do much writing, but this morning, I've committed myself to getting something down!
Perhaps the most impressive thing I've done here so far is what is the least surprising: a car tour of the city. Caro's uncle, Ricardo, or Richie to everyone, took us on about a two hour trip through northern Bogotá, through several neighborhoods, and the differences were what I found most interesting. Bogotá has six estratos, or levels. They're administrative divisions, and they determine zoning laws and utilities pricing. In estrato 1 you pay next to nothing, or nothing, for water and electricity, whereas in in estrato 6 you pay the most, which seems to be a way to subsidize utilities for usage in poorer areas. Everyone thinks in terms of these areas, so if you drive through the estratos, you can see the increasing and decreasing affluence.
Caro's neighborhood looks like it was all built in the 70s, with brick buildings that are being repurposed for stores, so her area is becoming very commercial. But other neighborhoods are right up next to the mountains, and they are modern looking highrises, like where Richie lives. We also drove through a neighborhood of houses on a quiet street that look just as residential as Wallingford, though each one has a high fence. Then there was the center, which includes the old Colonial part of town, where people were clearly much poorer, with people grilling on all the corners, dirty streets, begging and just a huge amount of crowding.
Maybe that's the most striking thing about Bogotá, and the hardest to capture, which is the contrast. It's easy to say that some people have nice new cars, and other people ride crammed buses, but seeing them next to each is impossible to convey well in words. And it's not all about social issues, it goes from pouring, just pouring rain here, to sunny clear skies, in about an hour. And it will do it twice in one day! I was talking to Pilar, Caro's mother, whom I have taken to calling Doñita Pili, and said I wasn't sure what to wear, because the weather changes so often! She just looked at me and said they have no idea either. It doesn't matter how long you live there, it's impossible to dress right.
Although that does make me think of another funny habit I'm having to overcome here. Being too respectful. I use the usted form here with people, because I want to be respectful, but it's pretty much the least respectful thing I could do. Basically, I want to call people "sir," but it just doesn't fly here. In stores or with Caro's family, they look at me like I just insulted them, because why am I creating that distance? Hence "Doñita Pili," which I suppose is the equivalent of calling me "Mr. Matt" in English. Not really respectful, but just close enough...
But today will be dominated by Andrea's wedding, Caro's sister. In fact, while I sit here typing, a considerable amount of bustle in dominating the house, for which I am attempting just to stay out of the away. More adventures soonish.
Also, is anyone still reading this? If so, I get in at 10:55 AM on Saturday, September 3rd. Cool people be warned. Dirk and Sarah, I'm looking at you. Best from down south!
Perhaps the most impressive thing I've done here so far is what is the least surprising: a car tour of the city. Caro's uncle, Ricardo, or Richie to everyone, took us on about a two hour trip through northern Bogotá, through several neighborhoods, and the differences were what I found most interesting. Bogotá has six estratos, or levels. They're administrative divisions, and they determine zoning laws and utilities pricing. In estrato 1 you pay next to nothing, or nothing, for water and electricity, whereas in in estrato 6 you pay the most, which seems to be a way to subsidize utilities for usage in poorer areas. Everyone thinks in terms of these areas, so if you drive through the estratos, you can see the increasing and decreasing affluence.
Caro's neighborhood looks like it was all built in the 70s, with brick buildings that are being repurposed for stores, so her area is becoming very commercial. But other neighborhoods are right up next to the mountains, and they are modern looking highrises, like where Richie lives. We also drove through a neighborhood of houses on a quiet street that look just as residential as Wallingford, though each one has a high fence. Then there was the center, which includes the old Colonial part of town, where people were clearly much poorer, with people grilling on all the corners, dirty streets, begging and just a huge amount of crowding.
Maybe that's the most striking thing about Bogotá, and the hardest to capture, which is the contrast. It's easy to say that some people have nice new cars, and other people ride crammed buses, but seeing them next to each is impossible to convey well in words. And it's not all about social issues, it goes from pouring, just pouring rain here, to sunny clear skies, in about an hour. And it will do it twice in one day! I was talking to Pilar, Caro's mother, whom I have taken to calling Doñita Pili, and said I wasn't sure what to wear, because the weather changes so often! She just looked at me and said they have no idea either. It doesn't matter how long you live there, it's impossible to dress right.
Although that does make me think of another funny habit I'm having to overcome here. Being too respectful. I use the usted form here with people, because I want to be respectful, but it's pretty much the least respectful thing I could do. Basically, I want to call people "sir," but it just doesn't fly here. In stores or with Caro's family, they look at me like I just insulted them, because why am I creating that distance? Hence "Doñita Pili," which I suppose is the equivalent of calling me "Mr. Matt" in English. Not really respectful, but just close enough...
But today will be dominated by Andrea's wedding, Caro's sister. In fact, while I sit here typing, a considerable amount of bustle in dominating the house, for which I am attempting just to stay out of the away. More adventures soonish.
Also, is anyone still reading this? If so, I get in at 10:55 AM on Saturday, September 3rd. Cool people be warned. Dirk and Sarah, I'm looking at you. Best from down south!
Monday, August 15, 2011
To bed!
I am a tired Matthew, but I'll make a quick post, since I know if I take too long to post, momentum will be lost.
Well, I've been here... two and a half days now, and it's been really nice, I have to say. Carolina's family has been great to me, and there is certainly no better way to be introduced to Bogotá. My Spanish skills were put to the test and not found wanting. I do, of course, make many errors, but I was pleasantly surprised by how well it all goes. Yay for multi-lingualism.
I have been tired, though. Not horribly, but I'm sure that I was somewhat jet-lagged, and additionally they all warned me about "soroche," which is basically mild altitude sickness, which I probably am experiencing. I don't feel bad, per se, but I do have a mild headache and just feel fatigued. But, after stressful packing and traveling, jet-lag, and an altitude shift, who knows where it comes from.
Let me now move into the section on fairly superficial generalized exoticisms: Colombian fruit. Colombians are all about the fruit. Juices, delicious, everywhere. And so many fruit I had never tried, and some had never even heard of. Naranjilla is acidic, like lemon, but creamy-like. Guanaban (in English, apparently Soursop) is great too, though not very sweet. The prize goes to Granadilla, though, which literally means "small pomergranite." They do look the same, but you can eat the seeds of this fruit, and each one is encased in this membrane that could not be more reminiscent of snot. Delicious. I'll leave you with that image.
I will write more soon, but I wanted to say I was alive and wanted to post. Till soon all! Best from Bogotá!
Well, I've been here... two and a half days now, and it's been really nice, I have to say. Carolina's family has been great to me, and there is certainly no better way to be introduced to Bogotá. My Spanish skills were put to the test and not found wanting. I do, of course, make many errors, but I was pleasantly surprised by how well it all goes. Yay for multi-lingualism.
I have been tired, though. Not horribly, but I'm sure that I was somewhat jet-lagged, and additionally they all warned me about "soroche," which is basically mild altitude sickness, which I probably am experiencing. I don't feel bad, per se, but I do have a mild headache and just feel fatigued. But, after stressful packing and traveling, jet-lag, and an altitude shift, who knows where it comes from.
Let me now move into the section on fairly superficial generalized exoticisms: Colombian fruit. Colombians are all about the fruit. Juices, delicious, everywhere. And so many fruit I had never tried, and some had never even heard of. Naranjilla is acidic, like lemon, but creamy-like. Guanaban (in English, apparently Soursop) is great too, though not very sweet. The prize goes to Granadilla, though, which literally means "small pomergranite." They do look the same, but you can eat the seeds of this fruit, and each one is encased in this membrane that could not be more reminiscent of snot. Delicious. I'll leave you with that image.
I will write more soon, but I wanted to say I was alive and wanted to post. Till soon all! Best from Bogotá!
Back date post!
Panama Airport. 8:00 local time, 15:00 in Berlin. Despite having a connecting flight from here to Bogotá, booked online, the plane was told that all passengers would have to leave security, enter customs, collect their bags, get a new tickets at the front desk, and then reenter through security. Aren't there legitimate reasons why you wouldn't want to go through customs in one country, but not in another? I can image this being difficult for some people, especially if you have a tight connection. I am not the case, so I did as I was told. Once I got to the carrousel, some attendant asked for my ticket stub and said my luggage was checked through. I told him I was told to pick it up and he gave me a big smile full of braces and told me they do that pretty often. Excellent. Well, I did go through customs and get a Panamanian stamp, so there's a souvenir for me. Going back through security was also a bit interesting. In order to get into line to walk through security, the guard took my passport and gave it a real looking over. The people behind probably hated me. It's a brand new passport, though, so it probably looks a bit suspicious. I might venture to say that the majority of Americans going to Panama might have been somewhere else already. Additionally, despite being the only time I've had to take my shoes off outside the US, I put my passport in a bag, which went into the scanner. When they asked me for it, I told them it was in my bag. The woman asking me looked at the guy behind the scanner, the scanner guy looked back. He shrugged. She sighed. I went through without a passport check. I would love a coffee, but I only have Euros. They might very well take them. I don't want to withdraw local currency, though, so I'll wait until I'm on the plane (what is it here anyway, the Colon?).
I wonder what side of the isthmus I'm on right now. Depending, I could already be in South America. So far Spanish has stood me in good stead. I'm spoken no English to any official, though my guess is they could manage well enough. I see quite a few Americans and Europeans muddling through questions to people. I'm also munching away on my vast supply of trail mix, which was a godsend given that every year airline food seems to approach soilent green ever more perfectly, and I only ate half of my dinner and none of my lunch that they gave me. Speaking of trail mix, though, I made an interesting linguistic discovery. Some of you might remember that I've mentioned a few times that Germans differentiate between types of plums. The mostly round all over, globe like plums are called Pflaumen, a cognate, but the smaller plums with a teardrop shape are called Zwetschgen. I always thought it was funny that we never differentiated in English, since yes they are similar, but we say peach and nectarine even though the only difference is a mutation to get rid of the hair, clearly we don't ignore all differences. But mystery solved people. The teardrop plums are properly called prunes. They're not as juicy, though, so they dry easily, hence being associated with dried fruit. Bam! Linguistic riddled solved. At any rate, I bought a bag of trail mix and threw in two bars of chocolate and a bag of prunes. In a final bit of linguistic fun, Germans call trail mix Studentfutter - which means student feed, like animal feed. Colombians apparently call it a bunch of nuts and dried fruits in a bag, according to Caro.
Well, I have to finish an essay for the class I just finished at that German university from where I won't graduate and whose grades won't follow me anywhere, but for which I fear bizarrely, almost manically responsible. I should probably just say screw it and pay more attention to the people and places, which I am, but I'll worry until I'm done, so it's best just to get it out of the way. As a final observation I can make, though, before signing off and getting back to work, is how still very socialized to Seattle I am. Point in case: women's heels. As perhaps the most heel-averse city in the world, I continue to be shocked by their ubiquity elsewhere. Strangely enough, any heel over about an inch seems sort of pornographic to me, like too exaggerated to be taken seriously. Like a corset or something, just too unnecessarily unnatural. To all short women and those who find heels empowering or otherwise gratifying, I do support you, but I will speedwalk right by you in the airport to get a better place in line, and I won't feel bad about it. To work!
I wonder what side of the isthmus I'm on right now. Depending, I could already be in South America. So far Spanish has stood me in good stead. I'm spoken no English to any official, though my guess is they could manage well enough. I see quite a few Americans and Europeans muddling through questions to people. I'm also munching away on my vast supply of trail mix, which was a godsend given that every year airline food seems to approach soilent green ever more perfectly, and I only ate half of my dinner and none of my lunch that they gave me. Speaking of trail mix, though, I made an interesting linguistic discovery. Some of you might remember that I've mentioned a few times that Germans differentiate between types of plums. The mostly round all over, globe like plums are called Pflaumen, a cognate, but the smaller plums with a teardrop shape are called Zwetschgen. I always thought it was funny that we never differentiated in English, since yes they are similar, but we say peach and nectarine even though the only difference is a mutation to get rid of the hair, clearly we don't ignore all differences. But mystery solved people. The teardrop plums are properly called prunes. They're not as juicy, though, so they dry easily, hence being associated with dried fruit. Bam! Linguistic riddled solved. At any rate, I bought a bag of trail mix and threw in two bars of chocolate and a bag of prunes. In a final bit of linguistic fun, Germans call trail mix Studentfutter - which means student feed, like animal feed. Colombians apparently call it a bunch of nuts and dried fruits in a bag, according to Caro.
Well, I have to finish an essay for the class I just finished at that German university from where I won't graduate and whose grades won't follow me anywhere, but for which I fear bizarrely, almost manically responsible. I should probably just say screw it and pay more attention to the people and places, which I am, but I'll worry until I'm done, so it's best just to get it out of the way. As a final observation I can make, though, before signing off and getting back to work, is how still very socialized to Seattle I am. Point in case: women's heels. As perhaps the most heel-averse city in the world, I continue to be shocked by their ubiquity elsewhere. Strangely enough, any heel over about an inch seems sort of pornographic to me, like too exaggerated to be taken seriously. Like a corset or something, just too unnecessarily unnatural. To all short women and those who find heels empowering or otherwise gratifying, I do support you, but I will speedwalk right by you in the airport to get a better place in line, and I won't feel bad about it. To work!
Thursday, August 11, 2011
About to depart
I am about to depart for Colombia! As with so many blogs, it begins with the sudden desire and energy of departure. This is, I think, the third or fourth departure in this blog, but so it goes. I'm getting lunch with Andreas, my boss, and then will come back to Caro's place, get my luggage, and will then jet off into the blue!
Well, actually I'll take the train to Leipzig, and then to Frankfurt, and then check in, and then fly into the blue!
Well, actually I'll take the train to Leipzig, and then to Frankfurt, and then check in, and then fly into the blue!
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Little things
I'm back people. At least for another post. Lots of little things afoot. I would need to post every other day to give them the time they deserve? That is the product of many small lazy decisions culminating is a lameness on my part, so I'll get right into actual life and no waxing about it.
Did bikram yoga yesterday. For the 2% of you who know even lesss about the cool new activities on the block nowadays, this is 90 minute long yoga, done in 26 positions each done twice, in a room of about 100 F and 40% humidity. My amiga here in Berlin, Cecile, who is in love with this stuff and has been doing it two years, got me and two others to go with her.
That is some hot, challenging, all around intense activity my friends. You sweat buckets, and you feel like the least flexible thing since a carrot stick. I could barely keep it together. I wasn't even able to do all 26 positions, because on the last one done standing up, I almost fainted. By the end I was just aching for a chance to leave. It was very healthful, though, I felt. Done 3 or 4 times a week, I think this would be good for almost anyone, but it definitely requires a while to get used to. I have a 10 day pass, so I'll go some more, but it's expensive, so I'm not sure I'll stick with it in the immediate future...
But that's in spite of the fact that I'm a rich, rich man now. I have an internship! I like to call it a tiny, job, but at any rate I started it on Wednesday, but have my first real work day tomorrow at 9:00 AM. Basically I read policy position papers and do corrections, further research, fact-checking if need be, and then let the pros decide. It's a give away internship from the Max Planck Institute, but my entire time here in Berlin I've been thinking I should get an internship and have a little proper experience to go along with my studies, and now I got it, baby. One of the more ironic aspects of this job, and there are many, seeing as how I basically wandered into it, is that they pay me! I was all set to have an unpaid internship, but as things stand, I get 7.5 an hour, which while no great, is disturbingly the best paid internship I've yet found in any of my acquaintance here, German or foreign. It's 10 hours a week.
What makes the situation a bit funnier, is that with this 300 Euros a month added to my 750 a month in fellowship, I make exactly enough to exceed poverty income for a single individual in Germany. Not bad, right? Of course, my all-together-now income of the year in Euros looks like it will top out pretty low, but given that I'm neither taxed nor forced to pay for health insurance, nor for that matter forced to purchase all travel costs, I guess it can argued my income's a bit higher. But whatever. I'm richer than Solomon over here, watch out.
In my ongoing epic tale of journeys, I'm also leaving Berlin yet again, and for the last time in the foreseeable future, from April 6 - 11. This time, I will be going to Austria. Presently my group of Austrian friends laugh at me every time this is mentioned, because it's so ridiculous that I'm going to middle of nowhere upper- Austria. Of course, to me it sounds great, but they promise that I will be astounded by the fierceness of the accent. Or, as Daniel said specifically (his English is quite good; year in Nebraska): "Dude, you'll be, like, the first American there since the occupation."
The actual genesis for the trip was that Xandi's (Alexandra) mother is having a birthday, so she and her boyfriend Marcus are traveling down to visit for five days. They asked if I wanted to come, and of course I jumped on the offer. I have been promised many days of walks in the woods, followed by nights of Austrian revelry.
Truth be told, though, I think this will be my last trip for a while. As much as I love my Austrians, I really do need to sit myself down in Berlin for more than a week or two. It's good to get out, and I don't regret any of my trips, but traveling where's you out, you know?
So now to other things. Thanks for staying tuned in everyone. Till soon!
Did bikram yoga yesterday. For the 2% of you who know even lesss about the cool new activities on the block nowadays, this is 90 minute long yoga, done in 26 positions each done twice, in a room of about 100 F and 40% humidity. My amiga here in Berlin, Cecile, who is in love with this stuff and has been doing it two years, got me and two others to go with her.
That is some hot, challenging, all around intense activity my friends. You sweat buckets, and you feel like the least flexible thing since a carrot stick. I could barely keep it together. I wasn't even able to do all 26 positions, because on the last one done standing up, I almost fainted. By the end I was just aching for a chance to leave. It was very healthful, though, I felt. Done 3 or 4 times a week, I think this would be good for almost anyone, but it definitely requires a while to get used to. I have a 10 day pass, so I'll go some more, but it's expensive, so I'm not sure I'll stick with it in the immediate future...
But that's in spite of the fact that I'm a rich, rich man now. I have an internship! I like to call it a tiny, job, but at any rate I started it on Wednesday, but have my first real work day tomorrow at 9:00 AM. Basically I read policy position papers and do corrections, further research, fact-checking if need be, and then let the pros decide. It's a give away internship from the Max Planck Institute, but my entire time here in Berlin I've been thinking I should get an internship and have a little proper experience to go along with my studies, and now I got it, baby. One of the more ironic aspects of this job, and there are many, seeing as how I basically wandered into it, is that they pay me! I was all set to have an unpaid internship, but as things stand, I get 7.5 an hour, which while no great, is disturbingly the best paid internship I've yet found in any of my acquaintance here, German or foreign. It's 10 hours a week.
What makes the situation a bit funnier, is that with this 300 Euros a month added to my 750 a month in fellowship, I make exactly enough to exceed poverty income for a single individual in Germany. Not bad, right? Of course, my all-together-now income of the year in Euros looks like it will top out pretty low, but given that I'm neither taxed nor forced to pay for health insurance, nor for that matter forced to purchase all travel costs, I guess it can argued my income's a bit higher. But whatever. I'm richer than Solomon over here, watch out.
In my ongoing epic tale of journeys, I'm also leaving Berlin yet again, and for the last time in the foreseeable future, from April 6 - 11. This time, I will be going to Austria. Presently my group of Austrian friends laugh at me every time this is mentioned, because it's so ridiculous that I'm going to middle of nowhere upper- Austria. Of course, to me it sounds great, but they promise that I will be astounded by the fierceness of the accent. Or, as Daniel said specifically (his English is quite good; year in Nebraska): "Dude, you'll be, like, the first American there since the occupation."
The actual genesis for the trip was that Xandi's (Alexandra) mother is having a birthday, so she and her boyfriend Marcus are traveling down to visit for five days. They asked if I wanted to come, and of course I jumped on the offer. I have been promised many days of walks in the woods, followed by nights of Austrian revelry.
Truth be told, though, I think this will be my last trip for a while. As much as I love my Austrians, I really do need to sit myself down in Berlin for more than a week or two. It's good to get out, and I don't regret any of my trips, but traveling where's you out, you know?
So now to other things. Thanks for staying tuned in everyone. Till soon!
Friday, March 4, 2011
The islitas
Oh man. Seeing the Canaries, baby. Today my cold seems to be all but gone, but in the mean time there's been lots of seeing the island here, Tenerife. The weather has not been over the top warm, more like 60 or 65 degrees, but a great departure from freezing Berlin. Yesterday we circumnavigated the island, which was interesting because it has some really different climate zones. It's almost desert for long stretches, but outside the rain shadow of the mountain it's almost tropical, and it the hills there are pine forests. It's been striking.
Tonight there's the ferry ride to Lanzarote, though, which is the less populated, more arid island to the northwest. It's a long ferry ride, but the idea is to sleep overnight on it. We'll see how well that goes. Short posts, I know, but I'm on vacation, right? Best people.
Tonight there's the ferry ride to Lanzarote, though, which is the less populated, more arid island to the northwest. It's a long ferry ride, but the idea is to sleep overnight on it. We'll see how well that goes. Short posts, I know, but I'm on vacation, right? Best people.
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