-UPB faculty colleague Richard Uribe
It is true: the UPB is one of the best-equipped and most modern campuses in the City of Eternal Spring, with a dedicated faculty sensitive to the need for personalized attention in education. Even so, work is hard when resources are often dysfunctional and many people around one are constantly late. For me, the novelty of impunctuality in Colombia is losing some of its charm. A few examples are in order. First, due to temperamental equipment, massive lines at the copy center, and more massive socializing in the hallways, completing simple tasks in my faculty’s building, like printing two sheets, should take five minutes but often takes forty-five. Second, last Tuesday, my halfway “host mother,” Ivette, whose home I still visit for home-cooked lunches some weekdays, told me that she would be making once-per-month specialty bean dish the following day. I gathered myself to show up on the Wednesday and pay her, knowing I needed to get cash to pay for her delicious weekly services. The trouble is, granting exact change for small cash purchases is paramount in most Colombian transactions: few seem to carry change for notes larger than 20,000 Pesos (US$11.11 at Monday’s exchange rate). Dashing out of the university at 12:45 pm, as is my custom when it’s time to get my midday paisa protein fix, I hustled up Avenida 70, a major avenue running northward from campus, to hit a bank. (Bear in mind, at this point, five weeks deep into my stay in Colombia, I still did not have my Colombian identity card or debit card issued; meanwhile, I continued to divvy up 50,000 Peso notes transferred to me by through the UPB’s International Relations director.) Now, if there is one thing that is downright frustrating about Colombia, it is the difficulty of getting people to make change for even marginally large bills, especially the 50,000 Peso note (just under 28 bucks as of today), the nation’s most widely counterfeited bill. I anxiously banged on the doors of three banks before I got into one: the first two were taking their two-and-a-half-hour lunchtime siestas. (Now, many of us appreciate too well the glories of the afternoon siesta, but the question of cultural comparison that just continues to shock me is, what US financial office would lose two-and-a-half hours of business in the middle of the day?) At the third bank, the line was impenetrable, and the employees at the counter were nowhere to be found. (All too often do I witness these bursts of service worker disappearances in Colombia.) Flustered, I gave up and bounced out the door. After this half hour of time evaporation, I arrived at Ivette’s door without proper change, feeling defeated and hungry beyond belief. Four rings of Ivette’s doorbell. No response. A call to Ivette’s cell: “Good afternoon, where are you?” I asked. “I’d love to get some of that bean stew you promised!” Ivette’s reply: “Oh sorry, I’m out this afternoon.” Apparently, she had overlooked the plans she made with me a mere 24 hours before. And just like that, my dreams of getting that prized once-per-month meal were over. The result? With half an hour left in my lunch break, I inhaled my typical bowl of frijoles down the street at one of my favorite local joints and scrambled back to the University in a hurry.
Now, for the third anecdote about the sluggishness of Colombian societal logistics. In typical paisa fashion, bright and early on Friday morning, at long last after five weeks of waiting, I went to the Departamento Administrativo de Seguridad (DAS) and claimed my cédula de extranjería, or foreigners’ national identification card. I had waited through the previous one week of unsuccessful attempts to get a straight answer about my card’s status through DAS’ verification hotline. My physical arrival at the office was at best an educated guess about my card’s arrival date. So spending money on taxi fare to go across town to DAS is always a risky gamble, because there are no guarantees that the card will ever be there. Luckily, with a swoop of extreme satisfaction, I claimed mine this time around… It was now time to open up my Colombian bank account! That is, it was time to arrive at Bancolombia and wait three hours in between the line and talking with two agents, withstand a computer crash in the bank, drink two espressos while waiting for its resolution, and then get slammed with the news that my ATM card would take a minimum of eight additional days to be issued. To my most utter chagrin, the banker then informed me that Colombian debit cards are invalid for making online purchases, and that foreigners are prohibited from applying for conventional credit cards that are eligible for making those lifesaving investments. ¡Ay caramba! Now this is something I simply can’t understand. I suppose card verification procedures must be looked at in a different light in a country still technically amid a civil war, right? But where is the spread of modern technology to Colombia’s finance sector!? Okay, Sol, be reasonable. Maybe I should consider this in more sensitive light. Maybe the truth is, in my “developed world mentality” of immediacy, I have come to take for granted such processes as online airfare purchases, which I’ve become tempted to believe are just vital for a smoothly functioning commercial society. Now will I, too, take on habits of inefficiency? Or will I just come to accept Colombia’s reality and no longer think it is inefficient, but rather normal and comfortable? Is the Colombian habit of lateness exacerbating this already exaggerated quality in me, which perhaps innately stems from my Brazilian side? I’m not sure, but I am certain that when my colleagues, students, friends, and even bankers waver on commitments in such a way that makes the simplest pleasures of modern life seem impossible, the North American gringo side in me takes hold, and frustration permeates through my body and mind. Sometimes, occurrences like this are enough to fill my over-caffeinated mind with enough questions to burst like a Fourth of July bottle rocket. But I will combat this. I will find peace.
My teaching duties have continued to expand like a helium balloon. After charging through an 8 am to 8 pm day of tutoring and logistics, sometimes I feel oddly as energized as the Incredible Hulk. On the other hand, sometimes I feel like an exhausted baboon. I continue to dig into the peculiar challenge of wanting to make friends with many of the students at my university, many of who are even older than me. To make matters stranger, because I am auditing a class, I am not sure many of the students around know what to make of me. I still sense a distance between us because I am often perceived more as a faculty member than as a “kid.” Indeed, these professor/fellow student/friend positions I must simultaneously maintain make for an odd paradigm…
On the teaching front, I have taken new steps of progress this week. First, I continue to feel rewarded in a way never before felt through guiding my cultural workshop discussion series. To think that I am being paid to be in a beautiful country discussing nuanced comparisons of culture as related to language, ethnicity, nationalism regionalism, local food, religion, politics, economics, arts, and music—the thing I love most in life—sometimes makes me feel overwhelmed with gratitude. It is when I walk away from a student in whom I’ve seen a spark of interest at debating one of these items—in English—that I feel most driven to convert all I’ve ever learned about the world, or been proud about in my national heritage, into creative teaching lessons. Furthermore, after a three-week wait, I finally met with one of the Technology Department’s coordinators to start developing my own tutoring webpage. It is contained within the UPB’s “Moodle” platform, an online teaching and communication forum somewhat akin to the more popular Blackboard. The page will be a direct link between me and about 100-or-so-odd students in and related to the Education Department. Through the device, I will be able to make direct announcements to this group of students, chat in real time with them about homework questions, and post as many lesson outlines and supplementary English activities as I fancy. For instance, I will be able to give my cultural workshop students as much notice as I wish about the discussion topics of the day. (Better still, I can also share as many YouTube videos of American hotrods and hotdogs with them as I can get my hands on.) Should this be fun? Yes. Do I have time to fit this additional duty into my weekday schedule? Questionable. The best part is that I get to serve my students in times that are more convenient for them, including critical moments of need, even if from a remote distance. The overwhelming part is, the Moodle channel now opens me up to being bombarded by students 24 hours per day through a rather impersonal forum. So what, now I’m supposed to be not only a cultural ambassador and a patient English tutor, but also an online platform promoter? Was I born in Silicon Valley? Well, we shall see the results as I deliver my first Moodle updates starting tomorrow, Tuesday, the 14th. Onward!
Friday afternoon I returned to gather with the UPB’s Model Organization of American States team. This was the first time I met the eight-or-so teammates majoring in International Business. I was impressed by their curiosity, their solid command over English, and their smiles. The topic of my pep talk was how to dig deep into researching Brazil’s stance and into communicating vigorously with teammates in order to realize a successful conference next spring. It was surprising to see how much of the Pitzer Model UN experience seems will carry over into relevance for this exercise. Again, there is nothing more fulfilling than to have the space to connect with a group of likeminded Latin American Politics and International Business nuts. I have a hunch that helping this group to research Brazil’s evolving foreign policy, and to design debate exercises to help polish their English oratory, will be the high point of my entire Fulbright experience. Adelante with the fundraising and adelante to Washington, DC for the March conference! Georgetown graduate admissions offices, I’m making plans to come back to see you!
If you’re curious to know what was rocking the Crista Club video flow this Friday night in Poblado, here’s the most colorful and well-produced Reggaeton video of 2010: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B68ni3Z6zcE
And for a Zion y Lennox's most classic hits, here's a taste of what I might be seeing on September 25th: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_3RI4ViEmM
Last but absolutely not least of this educational week was the cultural experience of a lifetime: the in-town civil war game, or El Clásico, between Medellín’s two rival fútbol teams. On Sunday afternoon, I linked up with three new buddies, Andres, Fabricio, and Santiago, to support the Deportivo Independiente de Medellín (DIM) in its annually anticipated faceoff against its local nemesis, Atlético Nacional. Given recent history, the two fan bases scorn one another, to the point of rock throwing and after-game fights. Founded in 1913, DIM, aka El Rojo aka El Poderoso, is the older team and one of the most ancient in the country. But La Nacional has won more championships, with 10 overall, topping DIM’s five. Nevertheless, in a recent national championship (2004), DIM beat La Nacional at the two teams’ shared home stadium of Atanasio Girardot… So as anyone can imagine, nowadays these games stir tension in the city worse than that contained in its pressure cookers of frijoles. Joining the boys early for some pre-game chanting and cavorting at the Stadium, we settled into our seats by 3:30. It was my first time sitting in El Norte, or the Northern section of the stadium, more known for its jumping, boisterousness, and color scheme shenanigans. What an afternoon! The energy in El Norte was reminiscent of an Olodum percussion procession during Carnaval in Salvador, Brazil. Sadly, DIM lost in an appalling 1-0 loss, shaped by two ignored La Nacional handballs in the penalty box. Still, the overall feeling of anticipation and elation was well worth it. This made, overall, for re-entering the workweek in high spirits.
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