Living my own Short Story

In 'Cien Años de Soledad' (One Hundred Years of Solitude), written by Gabriel Garcia Marquez and that takes place in a mythical Colombia, the handsome, rough character Maruicio Babilonia is constantly surrounded by yellow butterflies. A symbol for love, they flutter around Macondo even after his death when someone is reminded of his effect on the endless family line the novel follows.

When I take the eleven flights up to my apartment, large, black moths the size of my open hand nudged into the corner of the stairwell often startle my ascend home. I worry that the same persistance of such a symbolic creature might present some ominous augury. Although not superstitious, if I were to ever write a fictitious autobiography the character charading as myself would be pursued by the same dark creatures.

Lifting. Twisting. Pushing. Jumping. Resist.

Capoeira.

After an impromptu invitation one night, I am addicted. Twice a week I throw on my exercise clothes, trot the two blocks to the athletic compound near my house, run around the stadium a few times, then duck into class. The teacher is a chico my own age who works in a circus. The students make up the most multi-national crowd I have seen in Colombia: estadounidense, four Germans, Korean, and Swiss. And despite years of learning how to play and challenge my body through Karate, Gymnastics, and Yoga, each new activity combines my knowledge into practice and leaves me sore until the next session. I love hanging out upside-down, watching the masters twirl in the air effortlessly, and stading around in the roda clapping to the beat of two instruments. It's the perfect way to work off the stress of a long day. Capoeira offers an social, inexpensive, healthy alternative to going out for a drink at a bar with friens. And it makes me want to go to Brazil.

Move over boyfriends, it's Valentine's Day in Colombia!

It's that time of year: romantic colors spice up dreary winter grays, cupid lurks along the ceilings, chocolate invades every store (although I can't complain), and 'love is in the air;' sigh... Although I commonly shirk the consumer-driven celebration of Valentine's Day, this February finds me embracing at least one of the traditions.

I cannot count how many people, throughout my dating history or otherwise known, of whom I have warned the perils of buying imported roses. Who has seen 'Maria Full of Grace? Don't you realize that 16-year old pregnant girls work in the greenhouses cutting off thorns all day for bosses who won't let them take five minutes to go to the bathroom? Think of all the pesticides to which they are exposed, not to mention the exorbitant amount of refrigeration and fuel used to transport bundles of flowers that arrive at your local grocery store without a bruise! How could you support such nonsense?!?

But this year is different. Colombia just so happens to be the world's largest exporter of flowers. Which means that pretty much every store, household, restaurant, and roadside corner is filled with large sprays of birds of paradise, lilies, azaleas, orchids, oh I could go on forever. Everything that is not perfect enough to send to pining girlfriends in the US gets sold here in Medellin, at a ridiculously cheap price. Although those same pregnant girls are picking the flowers sold locally, at least I don't have to pay for the consumption of fossil fuels and import taxes. My guilt has abated and I succumb.

MK and I decided that since we will not be able to spend Valentine's Day with our respective boyfriends, why not treat ourselves to a bit of color around the apartment? So this morning we woke up at 6am, hopped into a taxi and brushed through the drizzly streets (rare on a Medellin morning) to the famous 'Plaza de Florez.' Although not quite the magnificent selection I have seen in the past, we were able to find a dozen of magenta roses, blushing pink lilies, several stalks of my favorite heliconia, and these weird conical flowers called 'maracas' for $5. If I owned more vases large enough to fit the 3-foot bouquets, I might have bought enough floral decadence to create my own personal botanical garden!

Although not much can dampen my flower-high spirits, I am somewhat disappointed that despite the fact that Colombia also grows and exports a sinful amount of chocolate, Nacional de Chocolate, the main company making edible chocolate (they usually drink it for breakfast) has a monopoly over the entire industry. I guess their candy bars aren't that good anyway, and instead of gaining weight this V-Day I can satiate my senses with the smell of guilt-free roses next to my bedside...

You gain some, you lose some

I have always been weary of changes I cannot control. Who isn't? But like most people, I acknowledge change as a necessary part of life so accept it with more than a hint of remorse. So I knew that a new year, new semester, and new schedule were bound to reorganize my Colombian existence, bringing with them a flurry of unexpected social adjustments.

In the past month, two of my best paisa friends have left Colombia to study in Europe. One is off to London on an year-long English adventure, the other to Holland pursuing graduate research in mechanical engineering unavailable in Colombian universities. They were the people I called at night after a long day, the friends who invited me to interesting cultural events of which I was never aware, corrected my Spanish, and gave me the best hugs when I was missing home. I am so happy that they have the opportunity to expand their educations abroad--a luxury most Colombians dream about their entire lives but never have the visa to finalize, but miss the way their friendships made me feel at home in Medellin. Because the majority of the people I know are traversing their "odyssey years," I consider myself a pro at saying "see you later" to friends with whom I am required to make a huge effort to reunite with in person. Though just because I am accustomed to such goodbyes does not mean that they are ever easy.

Luckily, life is a balancing act and as soon as Medellin (and me with it) lost Carlos Angel and Esteban we gained two equally worthy friends. The first is a paisa who I met in Atlanta right before I moved away. He worked with CNN Movies for a semester, spending several months in LA...meaning that we have both lived a significant amount of time in the same cities. Just knowing that he is back in Medellin sends me into fits of nostalgia for a southern accent and Hollywood lights. Second is my dear friend MK, with whom I interned at The Carter Center. She is using her vacation from sustainable farming to traipse around Colombia for 10 weeks studying Spanish and posting on her blog what she learns about local food production. Together with her host mother, we have spent a weekend at a finca battling dragons in guava groves (along with an eight-year old friend), baked a GF rhubarb and mora streusal, and attended the first performance of the Medellin Filharmonic's season. It is wonderful to have a good friend around who understands my sense of humor and asks challenging questions about Spanish syntax while teaching me new phrases she learns in class.

No matter what quantity of friends surround me each day, I am constantly reminded how lucky I am to know so many amazing people all over the world.