January 02, 2010
The Professor II
The days after this wonderful tour I was back in the Old City flirting with the Tourist Police officer that he had introduced me to the day before and along comes the Professor with another tourist in tow. He gave me a hardy hello and hand shake and we all exchanged greetings. Afterwards I explained my dilema to the Officer and she said that he would "probably" appreciate some compensation. Yesterday, exactly two weeks later, I ran into the Officer again and said that I had been looking all over for the Professor, but couldn't find him. She smiled and said he is often at a park just two blocks from where we were standing. I asked what time of day I should look for him. She said to go now. Sure enough, the Professor was sitting down on a bench talking with a friend in a very animated manner. I quickly decided what I would say and practiced in my head. I had already decided that I would give him a 50 million pesos bill, which is the biggest bill I've seen here and it seemed like a round enough number. It is worth about $25 US. (This more than I paid for lunch after school for a whole week--including a tip.)
So I walked up to him, shook his hand and said, "Buenes tardes, Professor. Como estas. Yo tango una regalo para usted." I handed him the bill, which I had folded in half. He gave me a wonderful smile which told me I had made the correct decision.
In retrospect, I believe that the Professor gave me the tour out of a generousity of spirit and love for his city. I do not think that he expected any compensation, but would have been happy for what we call a tip and what I am sure there is a better word in Spanish.
December 26, 2009
Birthday & Birds
Today is Victoria's 20 birthday!
My friends Patty & Jim must have been quietly scolding me for not going birdwatching because a racous bird woke me up this morning. With 1,695 species of birds in Colombia, I might not get invited to dinner again if I reported NO sightings. So I was out this morning at 6:20 with my binoculars and 836 page Birds of Colombia. I walked across the street where there is a line of trees and some water. As in the past, I saw that there are people who call this area home. They actually live there and sleep there. When I told Ruby, she said that for a dollar, one can also get sex there. She says that the police chase them away every now and then, but they return in a day or so.
One friendly couple was exercising and after we exchanged a few words, cautioned me not to enter the area where people lived and to be careful. So I walked along the row (actually it was more like a small park with tributaries of a river behind it) of trees mostly looking up. I saw several brown pelicans in the air and several small flocks of parrots fly by, but could not discern which of the 21 species that have appeared in Colombia they might have been. I finally got a break when I saw a woodpecker tapping on a tree. It was a fairly easy one to identify: a red crowned woodpecker. The bird was very cooperative!
I later went to the biggest market in Cartagena. Ruby was gracious enough to come along with me, despite her misgivings. It is easily ten times the size of Cleveland's West Side Market or Baltimore's Lexington Market. It is big and dirty and smelly. Anything that you might want in your kitchen can be found. I never saw so much fish in my life, not even at the wharf in D.C. While most of the stalls were covered on the top, there was no refrigeration--none. Some vendors fried there fish on the spot, I guess to preserve the fish. Much of the "floor" (cement, dirty, uncovered holes) was covered with what seemed like decades of fish scales. Ruby ended up buying some peppers, a guanabana, some other fruit that I had never tasted before, and much to my surprise, a fresh fish.
It appears that the venders (or fishermen) just throw the guts of the fish along the water's edge, so there were lots of pelicans, 20 or more, feeding just across the street from the market.
It was not lost on me that most of the people at the market were poor and that the overwhelming majority were Black like me. When I was growing up in Baltimore, there was a market across the street from the main Lexington Market that was nearly all Black as well. I will include more reflections on race in my final write up.
December 25, 2009
GGM's nephew
The head of this household is Ruby. She is a lawyer, but does very little lawyering. Her husband, who was also a lawyer, died 2.5 years ago. Her 7 year old son, David, lives with her. She also has a 25 year old son, Michael, who is a law student and wants to be a human rights lawyer. He is currently home for Christmas break. One of Ruby's aunts, who I will call Tia since I don't remember her name, had been visiting for the past week. Tia has a daughter who I will call Hija. Hiha has a very close friend who she has known since she was 12. She is now 23. We will call this friend Amigo. Hija invited Amigo over to Ruby's house a few days ago. Amigo's father was a younger brother of Gabriel Garcia Marquez! The Professor had told me earlier that GGM is , so I did Alzheimer's ask Amigo any direct questions about his uncle. We talked more about GGM's works than we did of the man. Of course what I really wanted was to get a couple of books autographed. But I restrained myself. I am thinking about asking Ruby to ask her cousin to ask her friend if I might get a book autographed. Would this be tacky?
December 04, 2009
The day before
At the moment I am at BWI airport, waiting for a plane that will take me to Cleveland. Tomorrow at 12:30 PM I will leave Cleveland for Cartagena, Colombia. The purpose of this trip is to take a four week Spanish immersion program. This will include 20 hours of lessons and five hours of at a language school, living with a family, and limiting my English speaking. I am very excited about this prospect, but I have a few concerns: it is very hot and humid in Cartagena. As I write this note at 5:16 PM, it is 93 F degrees there. The humidity is probably in the 70s. I have read that most people go home, take a nap and then eat lunch from noon-2 PM because the heat and humidity are so uncomfortable. The other worry is my Spanish. I know appallingly little Spanish given how much time I've been typing to learn the language. My colleagues make jokes about me being on a "word a day plan". There is also one couriousty: when I studied in Panama City two years ago, when I got in a taxi, just to make conversation, I would usually say in Spanish, "The women in Panama are beautiful." Every single driver responded, "Yes, but the women in Colombia are more beautiful. So I my off hours, I plan to investigate this phonomonum.
I packed before I left Cleveland, so I am pretty much ready. I have to remember to lower my thermostat, but not sl low that my pipes freeze, as they did last year. I will unplug all of the electrical appliances and take out all the trash.
I know that some of you are thinking that I should not be going to Colombia because it is a dangerous place. It IS a dangerous place, but so is Cleveland. Based on what I have read, Colombia is a lot safer than it was a decade ago, but there are still many places that are very dangerous, especially for those of us who do not speak the language, know the culture or who look like we might have money. For my interests, Cartagena offers everything I want plus relative safety.
More later.
JTW