Onwards: Reflections from the Field, Muchísimas Gracias a Medellín Solidaria

Katie    

Duke Engage Colombia is divided into two parts: one in which we interview families and one in which we edit the videos of the interviews.  The first part has just come to a close and Eliana, my cogestora, made it possible.  Despite language barriers, naïveté, and inexperience, she guided me through the process to make sure that I understood and could communicate with the families I interviewed.  This was an incredible experience for me because I met 20 families, heard their stories, and witnessed first-hand their struggle for self-betterment and ultimately survival, all with the help of Eliana and Medellin Solidaria.  As I edit the interviews now, I am once again struck by the courage and fortitude of Colombian families living in Santo Domingo, the neighborhood where I worked.  I listened to stories of displacement, murder and kidnapping, but I also heard tales of development and survival.  Throughout it all, I heard stories of strength and as I return to the States I will take these stories with me to show the Colombia that I have come to know and love.

Cesar
My first week with Medellín Solidaria was a hectic one; in three days I had accompanied three different cogestores. Luckily, all three of my cogestores – Lilibeth, Naudit, and Mauricio – were wonderful guides and helpful mediators. During my second week my life found some stability as I was consistently matched up with Mauricio. Mauricio taught me valuable lessons in hard work, patience, and humility. He left a higher paying job in order to help underprivileged families understand the rights they were entitled to as Colombian citizens. He valued quality over quantity and would not finish a visit until he felt all of the family’s questions had been answered, even if this meant working 10 hours a day. Although some families projected their displeasure with Medellín Solidaria onto Mauricio, he never once lost his cool and always treated every family with respect. Thank you, Mauricio, for showing me a side of Colombia I had never seen and for helping me get one step closer to completing my project. As for the families I interviewed, thank you for allowing a stranger into your home and thank you for sharing your stories. A majority of these families were humble, hardworking people; they lived simple lives and were thankful for the roof over their heads and the food in their mouths. Many shared the same hopes for the future; that their children would grow up to be educated, productive members of society. These interviews proved to be a humbling experience and made me painfully aware of my own privilege. Although my mother raised me on many of the same principles that the parents I interviewed raise their children, I was spared the trials and tribulations that many of these families have had to face. I’ve never gone to sleep hungry and I’ve never had to worry about whether the water I was drinking was safe. Although I left many of these homes feeling guilty about my own privilege, I also left inspired to one day return to the land of my parents and make a difference in the lives of my underprivileged compatriots. Colombia is a country rich in water resources and the thought of one day returning to Medellín and using my education for the betterment of my people fills me with pride and happiness. ¡Que viva Colombia!
Carrie
Although I have some critiques of the DE program -- I wish that I had been able to work in the urban areas too, I’m unsure about the concept of reciprocity in regards to giving back to the families that tell us stories, etc. --, I believe that the Duke Engage Colombia program has been very successful in achieving what I believe is one of its main goals: changing the participant’s perception of Colombia.

Our program encourages us to pick 2-3 interviews to turn into final documentary videos. The following video was made to (1) acknowledge the 13 families I interviewed and the stories they shared, (2) recognize the significant contribution of Medellin Solidaria to our project, (3) learn how to use iMovie, 
and (4) show how the most important thing I’ve learned in Colombia is about Colombia itself.

Albert
As I currently reflect on my time in the field, it’s so easy to say, “I have learned so much.” To put into words what exactly I will take away from this experience, however, proves to be extremely difficult. I feel as if anything I write will just result in a combination of different clichés, but I will try my best. The houses that I visited in Picacho, the neighborhood where I worked, line the mountain side. The majority were houses near the top that required me to travel up hundreds of stairs and other steep inclines. Each day, I saw unfamiliar parts of the same neighborhood, but the arduous subir to each house remained the same. Each family that I met greeted me differently and I enjoyed the unpredictable nature of my days. There was no set list of questions to ask and so I began to look at each interview as simply a conversation to be had. I was there for whoever wanted to confide in me, show me their story, and/or simply talk. Some families seemed more welcoming than others, but regardless, each family possessed a remarkable pride for their barrio, Medellín, and their país. 


But the unpredictable nature of this work differed greatly from the university setting where I understand conversations, can fully express myself, know exactly what to expect, and how to act. Every time I walked into a home, I tried to compensate for my lack of fluency by constantly emoting how I felt through my body language. I nodded vigorously, smiled relentlessly, and laughed at every opportunity. This often felt forced and sometimes the idea of an American walking into your house to question your untold history with a video camera in hand rubbed people the wrong way—who would have guessed? On the other end of the spectrum, many families literally greeted me with open arms and enthusiastically spewed a story without much prompting. These experiences were the best because my actions no longer felt forced. When I was at ease, my Spanish flowed nicely, the conversations became personal, and I felt connected to people who merely minutes before were complete strangers. I walked out of some houses feeling elated because more than anything these families showed me where true happiness lies; one can find true happiness in family, friendship, love, culture, and health and in our conversations, the families stressed these ideals and made it clear that money is not the determining factor. 


These families will never truly know how much they impacted me. Children are unassuming, curious and friendly—this is just a fact and I especially enjoyed the houses with young kids where their presence created a comforting environment. Many of the children and teens that I met were studying or wanted to be studying English and this immediately put me on an even playing field with them because they would try to speak in English and I would attempt to respond in Spanish. The awkwardness dissipated and any worries of judgment disappeared completely. On my last day in the field, I visited a family that had 1 young boy and 2 young girls. At the sound of “vengo de los Estados Unidos”, they were off. They brought me their English notebooks from school, asked me how to say tons of words in English and wanted to hear me count to 100—at least 5 times. I was curious about many of the words they used and I asked them to correct me when my Spanish didn’t sound right. Their mother showed a similar sense of curiosity and we conversed about the difference between poverty in Colombia and in the United States in addition to touching upon the very religious nature of the Colombian families that I had met. 


This entire experience, however, would not have been possible without my cogestora, Helena Pinedo Lipnik. Every single one of her titulares saw her not only as a social worker, but also as a friend. And as a result, they trusted me with many personal stories. During the interview process my cogestora would re-phrase questions into more paisa comprehensible ones in addition to helping me through my struggles with Spanish and the language barrier. She would constantly tell me how much she cared about our project and led me to great families in Picacho that would be excited and willing to share their experiences with me. And by great, I am not referring to the stories they could produce, but rather the families that continue to live their lives peacefully, happily and beautifully in the face of struggle, pain, and violence. On the first day I met Helena, I told her that I was adopted from Colombia. She is the only one that actually knew of the village where my birth mother was from—Topaipí, Cundinamarca. Nothing more was said about it during our three weeks working in the field. But on the last day in the field, Helena appeared with a bag in hand. She had found a man originally from Topaipí who moved to Medellín and she bought me one of his handmade hats. This was a moment that I will never forget. This trip is an experience I will never forget.

My cogestora, Helena, with a family she was extremely close to.

David
For the past three weeks I've had the pleasure to work with Carmen, a social worker from Medellin Solidaria. Unlike some social workers, she lives in the same neighborhood as some of the families she assists. For me, the phrase "charity starts in the home" comes to mind and though these people don't live IN her home, they are about as close to it as they can get. With each family I see Carmen act with love and compassion and I think that the proximity of their homes greatly influences this. She has a deep connection and commitment with these families because they are all a part of the same community. Carmen has also shown me her part of the neighborhood, her home and her children. After a long day in the field I was welcomed into Carmen's home by her children like I was an old friend and was served an amazing meal. Due to afternoons like these, I feel like I'm friends with Carmen and her family and not just a coworker. I want to treat them the same way that they've treated me and cooking them a meal to show them the foods I love from home.
Of the many things that Carmen taught me, two that stand out are that stories are supposed to come about on their own and trust is a must. These two lessons go hand in hand because a family won't feel comfortable sharing their story if they don't find you trustworthy. You can ask a person to tell a story but that doesn't mean they will. Numerous times, Carmen and the family would discuss a perfect topic for an interesting interview but I'd find myself stonewalled on the same topics when the camera was rolling. Unlike Carmen who had built a relationship over time with these families, I'm an American who had just walked into their home less than an hour earlier. I smiled and played with their children but that didn't make up for the fact that they didn't know me. Thankfully, Carmen was there to bridge the gap between me, the foreigner, and the families as best she could and set us at ease. It's an understatement to say that without Carmen, my interviews would never have happened. Even so, there were times that Carmen's vouching on my behalf was not enough. One woman was ready to do the interview but when I talked about the permission form she clammed up because she didn't trust me to leave the interview unpublished if she so desired. I realize this is because her previous experience, unknowingly signing her home away, but it still frustrated me that I couldn't prove to her that I'm trustworthy. On the other end of the spectrum, I've entered a family's home and was greeted like the prodigal son and told to return at any time as I left. Experiences like these remind me that, despite the project's shortcomings, it is worthwhile effort because the families want to share their stories with me and the rest of the world.
Julie
I am so happy to have met Rosalba and Alexander. They have given me more than I could have ever asked for and taught me invaluable lessons. They taught me how to love, how to live on after a tragedy, and how to remain positive when all hope could easily be lost. I’m so grateful for their hospitality and openness and hope to continue to maintain a relationship with them in the future.

Of course, none of this could have been possible without my cogestora Johanna Maria Valle Zapata. Johanna helped me when I didn’t even think I needed help and was always willing to facilitate my needs in order to get the interviews I wanted. She was also always down to get ice cream so we made a 
great team!

Dani

Come my first day of work in the field, I was quite nervous. Although it now seems completely unnecessary and silly in retrospect, I arrived an hour early in my blue Medellín Solidaria chaleco, and sat on the front steps of Metro Suramericana with a book lying open on my lap and my bag tucked behind my feet. Once or twice before Maria came around the corner to pick me up en route to Picacho, I remember anxiously checking to make sure I had all the necessary forms and coveted technology.

I wanted to make a good first impression. I knew that having an extranjera in tow would make her job a little harder, a little less efficient, and so I brought my cogestora a small little gift to show my appreciation in advance for allowing me to accompany her on three weeks worth of visits.

But in reality, I had absolutely nothing to fear. Maria was a gem, a kind soul, and a compassionate person. Even after repeating the same old shpiel to every single family over those three weeks… “Dani is a student from the United States, working on a research project here in Medellín. For three weeks, she is accompanying me on my visits to talk to the families, to ask a couple supersencillas pregunticas con una camerita...”

Maria seemed to have this glowing warmth about her. All the families loved her, respected her, and depended on her as a source of strength and guidance. Without Maria, I would never have had the opportunity to be a part of their life in Picacho, if even for an hour on a hot, sunny day. And for that, I am extremely grateful.

Like Maria, the families that greeted me with open arms taught me more about myself than I could have ever imagined. They didn’t care about my grade point average. Or my social standing. The platica. Or any of my material possessions.  I wasn’t trying to impress or be anyone, but myself. I talked of my love for Medellín, how I missed my family, and how genuinely happy and contented I felt to be here…. In Colombia…in Medellín… in Picacho…in this house….with each and every person.

It’s difficult to capture a moment in time with a little flip camera that slips neatly in your pocket. But it’s even more difficult to remember why you walked out of a family’s house and started the descent down a windy, narrow staircase with a heavy heart, but with an immeasurable amount of joy. It’s difficult, but it’s not impossible.

I’ll most likely never see most of the people that so graciously shared an emotional part of themselves with me over these past three weeks again. I’ll never be able to sit across from Maria Elena and listen to her recount the pain and surprise of fleeing from the paramilitaries burning down her house with only the clothes on her back. I’ll never be able to watch Zoraida’s face light up again as she teaches a room full of rambunctious Colombian youth how to salsa and sashay around the room, giggling and staring back at me with their big, expressive, and innocent eyes. And I’ll never again feel that spiritual connection with Trinidad, her grip slowly loosening from my outstretched hand and her smile fading as we part ways… forever. But I will always remember each and every one of the strong entrevistado/as. Their boundless capacity to love and to hope in the face of struggle and hardship. Their perseverance and zest for life even in the midst of its unexpected ebbs and flows. And their pride for their children, their home, and themselves.

But more importantly, spending the long hours with my cogestora, trekking up the hilly terrain in Picacho taught me that living isn’t about fighting time and running from home to home, but rather being alive and present in every moment- taking the time to sit down, drink the fresh mango juice, listen, and feel. They told me their story, but forever changed mine. 

Alexa

What I love most about Medellín is the way that its people have received me. I have gotten to know many of the host families well and feel so close to them that if a few days pass without stopping by for coffee or a salsa dance, I miss their company… The people here have opened their arms to us despite the language barrier and our different daily habits, but what is most impressive is that I have never felt like a stranger to them. We arrived in the middle of the night after a long day of traveling. Stepping into my host mom’s apartment, she turned on the lights and ushered me into my room, the silence was broken with her welcoming laughter and a bundle of excited arms surrounding me. Later, our co-director, Tam, told Jota that we were both jumping together only a minute after moving my luggage in.

A beautiful aspect that I have found of the culture of Medellín is the way in which people welcome in strangers. As Americans, we are accustomed to being on guard around strangers, especially when they are in our home. However, despite Medellín’s violent past, the people that we have interviewed for the past three weeks have ushered us into their homes with warm soup, fresh juices, laughter and openness. They are as eager to get to know us, as we are to get to know them. When I ask to hear their stories, they often respond by asking to hear some of mine. They are curious to hear what it is like in New York and how it is different from their home. I have realized that as Americans, we hide our insecurities well. Though our news is constantly poking at those insecurities with reports of spreading illness, shootings in a far away city, kidnappings, etc. We rarely speak openly about our personal insecurities (economic trouble, family trouble, etc.) apart from those we are closest with. I am humbled by the way in which these families have opened up their past to me. My Cogestor, Juan Carlos, introduced me to each of these families. Waking at 6am each morning, I traveled an hour away to a café near la Biblioteca España in Santo Domingo, where we shared a tinto with Joa, the waitress. We then began trekking up towards El Compromiso. The trust that these families had in my ability to listen to their story was founded on a strong relationship with Juan Carlos. He had worked with these families over the course of two years to work with them so that they could pursue education and the benefits that the city offers. Not only did it impact me to see such a relationship of trust between a government worker and the community, but the effect that relationship had in transferring that trust to me.  The question of how we are serving these families in return for their openness has been one that I keep contemplating. I hope that by sharing their story, the scenes of violence that they have shared with me will not reoccur. By inspiring conversation about the past, the city can continue to move forward. Hopefully more people will reconsider the image they have of the Medellín instead of confusing its past with its present.

Life as We Know It... in Colombia

Carrie
Compañeros y Duke...

Albert & Katie
Just Another Sunday in Colombia...

Julie

My Family Rocks...

Alexa

Una Mañana con Familia en Medellín

Cesar

C: Buenos dias, ¿usted como se llama?

D: Clara Margarita Mejia Vargas.

C: Doña Clara, ¿esta area como se llama y hace cuanto vive aqui?

D: Esta area se llama Carlos E. Restrepo y vivo hace…primero vive de soltera…vive diez años, como de ’71 a ’81, cierto. Estuve viviendo en el exterior y volvi en el…en el ’86. Volvi en el ’86 aca y…a ver y que mas…pero, por cuestiones de trabajo me fui para Bogota en el 2002 y estuve en Bogota ocho años. Estoy aqui hace un año, por hay.

C: Doña Clara, ¿nos puede contar sobre su experiencia con el programa y como le ha ido, incluyendo este año?

D: No he tenido ningun problema, ha sido facil con las personas que he hospedado en esta casa, que serian Gideon y…no tengo problemas. La relacion es facil, es fluida, nos entendemos.

C: Y, ¿me puede contar por que decidio hacer este programa y las razones porque queria hacer esto?

D: Gloria Ortiz me invito a participar en el programa y me conto, entonces me intereso.

C: Doña Clara, ¿que piensa usted de el trabajo que nosotros hacemos?

D: Me parece interesante…la cuestion de cambiarle la imagen a Colombia de que sea solo droga y problemas, de que las autoridades trabajan por mejorar la situacion de la gente menos favorecida…a mi me parece interesante.

C: Y Doña Clara, ¿hay un mensaje o algo que nos quiere decir a los estudiantes que estamos haciendo el programa?

D: Si, que no se quede solo en fotos. Que de pronto traten de llevar, como, mensajes a la gente de los barrios, que les sirvan para la vida…que tengan conciencia de que uno es un bendecido y que uno tiene que devolverle a la sociedad parte lo que le da en pro de los que no tienen nada. Eso les diria yo, me parece que no hay que perder de vista la cuestion social…siempre.

C: Bueno Doña Clara, muchas gracias por la entrevista.

 --------------------------------------------------------------------

C: Good morning, what is your name?

D: Clara Margarita Mejia Vargas.

C: Mrs. Clara, what is the name of this area and how long have you lived here?

D: This area is named Carlos E. Restrepo and I’ve lived here since…first I lived here when I was single…I lived here ten years, from about ’71 to ’81. I was living in the exterior [of Medellin] and I returned in…in ’86. I returned here in ’86 and…let’s see, what else…but due to employment issues, I moved to Bogota in 2002 and I was there for eight years. I’ve been here [in Carlos E. Restrepo] about a year.

C: Mrs. Clara, can you tell us about your experience with the program and how it has come along, including this year?

D: I haven’t had any problems, it has been easy with the people I have hosted in the home, whom are Gideon and…I haven’t had any problems. The relationship has been easy, fluid, we understand each other.

C: And can you tell me why you decided to do this program and reasons why you decided to do it?

D: Gloria Ortiz told me about the program and invited me to participate, so that caught my interest.

C: Mrs. Clara, what do you think of the work that we are doing?

D: I find it interesting…the issue of changing the image of Colombia, which is all about drugs and problems; that the authorities work to remedy the situation of the disadvantaged population…I think it’s interesting.

C: And Mrs. Clara, is there a message that or something that you would like to tell the students who are doing this program?

D: Yes, that it does not only stay in photos. Try to take messages to the people of the neighborhoods, [messages] that will serve them in life…be aware that one is blessed and one must give back to society what one receives from it, to the benefit of those who have nothing. That’s what I would tell you all, I believe we must never lose sight of social [responsibility]…always.

C: Well, Mrs., thank you for the interview.

David

What my host mom has shown me is what many people say is typical to Colombia- showing love through food. Every day my host mom makes me a delicious breakfast, usually consisting of a buttered and salted arepa topped with cheese and an over-medium egg. There’s also a different home-made juice that accompanies my meals ever day even though juice making can be a time consuming processes. It doesn’t matter if I’m waking up before 6 am or well past 10, breakfast is ready for me when I rise.

For dinner my host mother prepares amazing and authentic costena food. It’s clear that she loves sharing her culture with me and surprising me with new meals every night. Without a doubt, these dinners have been some of the most delicious I’ve eaten in Colombia and long before. Our favorite dinner conversation is about the Costena restaurant my host mom says she’ll start at Duke. According to her, I alone would make her business profitable! We may joke about it but I would love some of her cooking when I return to school.

Dani

My host mother is a warm, lovely person who has shown me a compassion that I never anticipated.  She wakes up early in the morning to prepare me a hot breakfast before going out into the field and upon my return in the late afternoon, listens to me ramble on about all the day’s adventures. She knocks on my door every night to ask about my plans for the next day and always wishes me a wonderful night’s rest in the most genuine, heartwarming of ways.

I asked her one afternoon if she minded writing a short little something about how she feels having a foreigner living with her for the Duke Engage blog. She wanted to write it together, but when I returned home later that night, she led me to the kitchen table and showed me her neat scribbles. In a pink swirly hand, she wrote this and read it out loud-each word one at a time:

“La experiencia de tener en mi hogar una persona de otro país es muy bonita. Admiro mucho en Dani su capacidad de adaptación al clima, la comida, y a las personas… su estabilidad emocional y trata calida.”

It’s short. But it’s sincere.  And I know that she truly cares about me.

Regardless, I am a homebody. And as much as I love Colombia, I still miss being “home.” From the minute I wake up till the minute I fall asleep, my mind is far from being at ease. I’m always trying to navigate a language barrier, cultural differences, and how to show my boundless gratitude for everything my host mother does to help me feel welcome in her home.

At times, I literally feel “lost in translation.” I’m a talker. A conversationalist. Words are my medium. The number of hours I spend attacking a keyboard writing or reading with my nose in a book is quite up there- immeasurable even? So to not be able to say absolutely everything that pops through my mind is nothing short of extremely frustrating.

But am I really “lost in translation?”

One night, the group got together to cook a homemade dinner to celebrate Jota’s birthday. As we were nearing the end of the marathon cooking-cleaning Duke Engage Colombia escapades, I stepped out of the kitchen to take a breather and unexpectedly starting chatting with two of the host mothers. I had been looking through this coffee table book on “beauty through the decades” and was showing them a picture of my favorite actress and cultural icon, Audrey Hepburn.

They invited me to sit down on the couch, in the middle, sandwiched between the two of them and we just started talking, talking, and talking. And before long, I found myself pouring out my soul, in Spanish. I told them about my fear of being misunderstood. That I’m an observer, always listening with my eyes. I’m more serious, an older soul. Less carefree, a little more guarded. I felt as if I was sitting next to my mother, my best friend (in the most non-cliché way).  I felt comfortable and at ease. And I felt an overabundance of love, of warmth, of compassion. For the first time, I said that I was a writer. That writing was my way of understanding the world. I’ve never called myself a writer before…

So how could I possibly be “lost in translation?”

Because I’m not lost- I’m understood. I’m loved. It’s not my “home,” but it’s a home. One that I will forever carry in my heart.

How To [.....]

Carrie

How to Pull Off Being a Paisa in 10 easy steps:

Many times in Medellin, it’s hard to blend in. I’ve found that people stare at me like I’m an alien from Mars. Luckily, I’ve compiled this “easy-to-follow” list of tips on how to act like a Paisa!

1.) Learn to say Paisa: Paisa is a term that refers to natives of Medellin. For the first two weeks, I thought it was pronounced “pa-ees-uh”. Dead giveaway. It’s actually pronounced “pie-suh”. Which leads me to…

2.) Tone down the gringo vibe and practice some Colombian pronunciation à Last weekend we visited Cesar’s family’s finca (vacation home in Santa Elena). His family was welcoming and friendly, and our group had an amazing time. One of his uncles offered me a tomate de arbol (a sweet yet tart tomato fruit). They asked me how I liked it. I said “muy rica” (very delicious)! Everyone burst out laughing. Why? Apparently it sounded like I said “marica” (gay!). Awkward!

3.) Workout for at least two hours a day: Sebastian (my arch-nemesis at Forma gym) and Victor (the personal trainer) have been killing us - or at least the girls - with intense workouts. The other day, I “warmed up” with an hour long spinning class, “worked out” with some abs exercises, and “cooled down” with an hour-long tae-bo class. I’d like to say that we’re all going to come back looking slim and trim, but that’s not going to happen because…

4.) Eat potatoes, rice, fried things, sugary juice, and areaps: I have yet to have a meal in Colombia without one of these essential items. No complaints here - who honestly hates carbs anyways? Don’t like areaps? Drenching them in salt and butter kind of makes them taste like delicious popcorn… Just swallow quickly so you don’t have the after taste of soggy bread.

5.) Throw around some Colombian slang: Buenaaaaas (good morning, night, afternoon, whatever)! I know this post is bacano (awesome) and that I am just incredibly chevere (cool), but I’ve realized that dropping some Colombian slang here and there makes my parces (buddies/bros) happy. How do you feel about my tips so far? Bien, o no?! (good, or not really)

6.) Accept that you may get mono: If you do not share your food and drinks, you are rude. Period. Accept that you may get mono from sharing with strangers, and embrace your new connections and friendship with others.

7.) Do whatever the Colombians are doing: Whether it’s eating morcilla (blood sausage), spontaneously hiking through a creek, watching “Snow White and the Huntsman” dubbed in Spanish, or cheering for a team in EuroCup futbol (soccer) game, just do it.

8.) Get a spray tan, wear brown contacts, and dye your hair. If you’re a guy, get a mullet and rattail, which is totally IN this season. At one of my interviews in San Cristobal, a 6-year-old child kept asking me why I talked funny. I told him that I was from another country, and he didn’t believe until I spoke in English for him. He told me that my pale skin, green/blue eyes, and “blonde” (actually not so blonde) hair were ugly and strange. He said he liked his women dark - with dark skin, dark hair, and dark eyes. I guess 6 year olds know what they want. Everything else is just too “extranjera”.

9.) Close doors quietly and softly!!! No explanation necessary. Slamming doors calls a lot of attention to you.

10.) Be proud of Colombia. Although Colombia has had its issues, every family that I have spoken to so far is proud to be Colombian and proud of the progress that the country has made. Be proud of Colombia and be proud of being a “Paisa” - and maybe (just maybe) they’ll believe you.   

Alexa

How to feel at feel at home without being home

Traveling is a thrill. Food you’ve never heard of, architecture you’ve only seen photographs of, navigating through another language with hand signals and laughter over miscommunication. Thrills also come with fears. Some of the interviews that we have been having confront problems that we’ve never had to sympathize with, kidnapped daughters and houses burned down in the middle of the night. It is not only a language barrier but a difference in what we have been exposed to that can sometimes make us miss what we’re comfortable navigating.

Running is such a romantic conception. I love that scene in Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants when Blake Lively goes running to relieve her stress. It seems like she never stops, her long blonde hair is rushing behind her, and the adrenaline rush gives her time to clear her head. In reality, it’s hard for those who aren’t half marathoners and nobody looks as beautiful as she does, but I’ve found running to be an incredible way of thinking about your experiences while traveling, sorting through them; remembering, laughing, relieving those awkward moments.

The movie lacks the following scene; lying in bed utterly exhausted, hair sticking to your neck instead of streaming through the wind, those exhaustive moments of rest before a cold shower. But that is the best part. We all joined a gym a week ago and the trainers there push you to make it count. It gives us time to unwind and focus on nothing more than pushing ourselves. And as cliché as it is, it has helped immensely. I can’t be the only one because as a group we’ve been going each day. The most underrated part though is afterwards; hot and too tired to take a shower quite so soon, it’s a meditation where I close my eyes and can let each thought come and go instead of scheduling out the rest of the day. And though meditation is not something I do at home, it does bring me back to feeling as relaxed as I feel there, and that is something I want to hold onto.   

Running in Parque General San Martín in Mendoza, Argentina

David

How to get to know your host family better

1). Decide on a course of action. I picked food, dinner to be specific, because everyone loves to eat.
2). Be sure to pick a dish that will confuse them. David, if fajitas are Mexican and you aren’t Mexican, why are you making us Mexican food?
3). Provide no detailed answers. Trailing off midsentence works wonders. Instead proceed to 4).

4). Ask food questions about them! What’s your favorite meal? How do you make _____? What’s your favorite non-Colombia cuisine?

5). Turn on the radio and listen to the Colombian National anthem 3 times.

6). March to the national anthem.

7). Continue chatting! When you encounter a language barrier be ready to laugh at yourself, we say crazy stuff without knowing it. Or maybe that’s just me.

8). Ask them to show you a dish you don’t know how to make. In my case, plantains.

9). Scorch the plantains. I accidently left the fire on too high without flipping them. If you aren’t forgetful like me feel free to intentionally sabotage the dish.

10). Apologize profusely then laugh with them about burning the plantains.

11). Add a Colombian twist to the dish. I forgot to buy tortillas but the arepas were a perfect substitute.

12). Sit down and eat!

13). Relish in the fact that everyone likes the food, including the extra flavor on the plantains.
14). Promise another meal!

Cesar

How to Unite Two Worlds

In high school I considered myself an active member in the Hispanic community; I held leadership roles in my school’s Spanish Club and Sociedad Honoraria Hispanica, I attended Hispanic (especiall Colombian) festivals, and I had a loving family that upheld the traditions of their South American roots. When I got to Duke, I thought things would be no different. After I attended my first Mi Gente (Duke’s Latino Student Association) meeting, however, I was completely turned off to the Hispanic community at Duke. I even remember someone telling me that “[I] looked too white to be Hispanic”, as if the complexion of my skin invalidated the experiences I had lived through as an active, and proud, Hispanic member of society. Now, I would like to point out that my experiences with the Hispanic community at Duke are simply that: my experiences. I’m glad that Hispanics at Duke have an association where they can feel comfortable and meet other like-minded individuals; it’s just not for me. In my opinion, the Hispanic community at Duke tries to hard to overcompensate for the fact that they are an underrepresented minority; while Hispanics make up ~17% of the U.S. population, they only make up ~7% of the Duke student body. My struggle with identity at Duke is the reason that I was initially nervous to come to Colombia with 7 Duke students. I knew that my family in Colombia would want to take us sightseeing, but I wasn’t prepared for how natural the interactions between my family and my newfound friends would be. I honestly thought I’d be acting like a mediator for the entire trip, making sure that everyone was having a good time and that there were no awkward lulls in conversation. Luckily for me, both my family and my DukeEngage compañeros are a lively group of people. I don’t think anyone at Duke has come close to seeing this side of me, but if I had to choose one group of people to share this experience with, it’d be them. From the bottom of my heart, thanks for being so awesome.

Albert

How to Try New Foods in Medellín

During my 3 weeks here in Medellín, I have tried some very interesting dishes that are unique to Colombian culture. 

Here are two steps to successfully trying new Colombian foods. 

1.) Keep an open mind.

           

This sounds a lot easier said than done since some of the traditional dishes have distinct and unfamiliar appearances, especially for those with sensitive palates or those who do not even enjoy trying new foods in the U.S.  To keep an open mind, I think about where I am.  It is a once in a lifetime experience to live in Medellín for two months with a host family, experiencing and living the culture. And as a result, I developed this when in Colombia mentality that allows me to overcome even the most unfavorable appearing foods.  Experiencing a culture means stepping outside of your comfort zone and this simple reminder motivates me to try EVERYTHING I can.  Anything that is put in front of me on a plate, I will try and so far I have enjoyed all of the new tastes.

2.) Do not ask what it is until after you have finished. 

           

This step is essential because sometimes knowledge of the dish’s origins will psych you out.  Growing up, I always heard, “You will never know if you like something unless you try it…” In Medellín, this could not be more accurate.  Of course, this step does not apply to vegetarians, vegans or those that heave, gag or regurgitate easily.

Recently, my most notable endeavors with new foods include Morcilla and Zopa de Mondongo. 

Upon arriving to Colombia, we ate our first meal in a restaurant on the way into Medellín.  No one would tell me what I was about to eat in the Típica Paisa.  I thought to myself: Típica for my first meal in Colombia? Why not? My first bite of Morcilla took me by surprise.  The meat proved to be delicious and it wasn’t until after I became content with the taste that I found out that it was a sausage-like casing stuffed with congealed pig’s blood, rice and spices. 

Just last week, while in Picacho for work, a house brought me a bowl of soup with unrecognizable contents.  I saw yucca, potatoes, carrots and a few other familiar vegetables, but there was this meat that looked almost like the tentacles of a squid.  When in Medellín, I thought to myself. The broth tasted like a delicious mix of garlic, and vegetables, similar to a chicken soup. And after licking my bowl clean, I asked what exactly the carne was. The woman divulged that the unknown ingredient was the cleaned stomach of a cow. The soup is now one of my favorites.

Que Rico.  When in Medellín. 

Disclaimer: Following these steps is under your own personal discretion.  Tensions will form in friendships if you refuse to tell them what they are eating, or if you lie to them.  Carrie, I apologize.  

Julie

How to untangle your headphones (and other knots)

I’m convinced that some higher being is trying to mess with us all. How is it possible that every time you put your headphones down unknotted, the next time you pick them up they’re all tangled?

While in Colombia, I’ve found myself trying to fit too much into a small space on too many occasions. And thus, I’ve found a fool-proof method for untangling…

Pre-steps:

1.     Make sure you’ve had a good night’s sleep.

a.     It’s hard to identify the problem area of your wires when your head is cloudy.

2.     Eat a good breakfast.

a.     You’ll want your energy for this exhausting mission.

3.     Get your head in the game.

a.     Make sure your goals and desired outcomes are clear. Sometimes a tangle can ignite frustrations that will just distract you from your ultimate goal.

Now you’re ready.

Step 1: Clear a space and put your tangled mess in front of you. Minimize distractions as to not get too overwhelmed.

Step 2: Unplug your cords from the device. There is no need to make your problem larger than it really is.

Step 3: Start from the bottom up. You might find yourself eager to set your ear buds free, but seeing the problem from a new angle is a great technique toward a solution.

Step 4: Don’t rely on just your hands. You can use other materials, or even a friend, for help—you are not alone!

Step 5: Loosen the knot slowly and carefully. It is important to take your time to minimize frustrations and to avoid causing other problems in the wake of working too quickly.

Step 6: Remain humble. This problem is bound to appear again, so don’t blame yourself when you see new knots after a few days. You know how to work through them, and you will. 

BITACORA por la madre de huésped de Julie

Julio 1 a Julio 8

Ya estamos muy adaptados y felices! Tanto Julie como nosotros, ha sido un proceso corto, estamos seguros de que ella se siente como en su casa y ha podido interiorizar también nuestras costumbres, nuestro vocabulario y nuestro ritmo de vida, nos encanta ver como invita a sus compañeros a esta “su casa” para adelantar algunos  de los trabajos que deben realizar cada día, o simplemente a tomar un café.

Hemos podido percibir un grupo maravilloso, alegre y divertido.  Julie se ha convertido en una persona muy importante para nosotros.


Katie

How I’ve Learned Hospitality


Mi casa es su casa.  Every time I enter a house in Colombia, this is how I feel.  From my host families home in an upper-middle class gated community to the most ramshackle house halfway up the mountain, I am welcomed, often literally, with open arms.  Before coming to Medellín I did not know what hospitality was.  Now I know that it is providing a gringa with a room in your home and including her in all your meals and family activities, as my host mom does.  It is offering a foreigner who is pestering you with hard questions and thrusting a camera in your face the only chair in the house, as many of the families I interview do.  It is recounting the most difficult time in your life in front of a stranger. It is offering food when you have none, conversation when you know the other person cannot fully understand, and acceptance despite worlds of difference.  It is warmth, generosity, and kindness that runs so deep I am often left speechless, and not just because of the language barrier, trying to comprehend how anyone could be so insanely nice.  Mi casa es su casa.  Yo entiendo.  Finally.

Dani

How to Go from Elle to Dani (D-a-n-í) in Colombia

1) Insist that everyone call you the Spanish equivalent of some masculine form of your name for the first 3 days: Danielle sounds like “Daniel” in Spanish, Elle sounds like “él” (he) and then finally make life easier and say Daniela or Dani (sounds like Daní)…

2) Get so incredibly lost in a 2-3 block radius on your first full day in Carlos E. that you acquire the reputation of “misguided directional sense” and never live it down

3) Eat an arepa with huevos and a banana every.single.morning with incredibly strong café con leche

4) Overuse the phrases “que chévere,” “muchísimas gracias,” “buenas,” y “lindísima”

5) Become a “supplier of the laughs,” but remain perpetually confused as to what exactly people are actually laughing at

6) Set clock back 10 minutes, because Colombian time isn’t as much of a thing as it seems and people are actually on time to everything contrary to popular belief (work in progress)

7) Always order a pinkish jugo de fruta (fresa o mora) en agua

8) Never put sugar in any juices or coffee, siempre amargo (bitter)

9) Live for the first 2 weeks without monetary funds and write IOU’s for half the group

10) Mention how annoyed you are after every catcall and painstakingly long stare when walking in a big group

11) Weigh the pros and cons of wearing jeans vs. a skirt (it’s hot, but a skirt gets more ‘up and down’ stares walking around the city)

12) Spend time talking with new and interesting people in the field (Picacho), in Carlos E., and elsewhere

13) Sit at the kitchen table and have a 2.5 hour discussion on Colombian and Latin American culture with the Bolivian professor from Universidad Nacional that lives in your apartment

14) Be a “failed nature girl” wearing nice jeans and a blouse for a “45 minute hike at the finca” then proceed to crawl under barb wire fences, fall face first into creeks, and go “swimming” aka pure embarrassment on multiple levels

15) Have a couple panic attacks as you slip on moss covered rocks into the creek face first and trip all over your feet en route back to the finca in pitch dark, guided by the light of one cell phone all the while reminding yourself that being flexible implies spontaneity- Hazlo!

16) Make weird faces in pictures and let everyone get a good, nice laugh (see the picture below that started it all)

17) Arrive an hour early to places (i.e. plaza, metro) so you can sit and read or write

……….

But even in the midst of all the energy and contentment I feel in Medellín, I cannot help but feel different from the person that I was before June 19^th. My thoughts are as loud and convoluted as the commotion twelve stories below me, a far cry from the whispers of suburbia that lull me to sleep and quiet my mind. Here I, Dani, find myself speechless. I need time to process all these emotional experiences, the difficult conversations with the entrevistado/as, the poverty, the sadness, and all the things that the “old” me had never imagined. But I can’t find the silence. How to be Dani in Medellín? I’m trying, I’m learning, and sometimes I fail. Here, I’m pushing myself to learn how to trust others in the same open and honest way that I expect my entrevistado/as to place their trust in me. Here, my view of myself as a woman is challenged as well as the perceptions of a woman’s body and standards of beauty that I had become so accustomed to. My strong identity as a feminist finds itself confused, misplaced, and wondering where to turn next. I’m startled, fascinated, and disillusioned by this new world and these new cultural norms. I’m embracing discomfort and working through the language barriers and other lapses in understanding, but I cannot shake that “lost” feeling. Elle was the American flying to Colombia, but Dani is the extranjera “lost” in Medellín, seemingly out of place. And yet, I acknowledge that as a “gringa,” I am an observer, an open mind. I’m listening and trying to remain fully engaged and present in the moment. And I’m learning how to be vulnerable and scared, but also safe and loved while being surrounded by people who are my support network here and hopefully, for the long run.

How to be Dani in Medellín? To be continued…