Friday, September 10, 2010

Fotos

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Sunset AfterglowPhotobucket
A Chapel somewhere in the middle of  Barranquilla 
PhotobucketA Marimonda - iconic caricature of the Carnaval de Barranquilla.
"Welcome to Barranquilla. Here, it has everything"
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Shanty shop on the road out of Barranquilla
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A budding bird of paradise
PhotobucketI was pretty proud to get this picture with my phone; no tweaking.
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Temple tree blossoms. no tweaks.

PhotobucketOn the left, an average-sized hass avacado; on the right, a ripe aguacate. 
(hand and produce are actual size)
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Okay Colombia, I know you have amazing women and aguacate here... 
but posters in the airport? Really now.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

...and just like *that*...

It was gone.
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Chao Kevin

Today was Kevin's last day here. His flight leaves at 2AM on Friday. He came over today to hang out one last time. Since the weather has been so bad lately, we were skeptical of the morning sun holding out past mid-day. So we decided not to go to the beach. Kevin and I watched some Jiminy Glick interviews on YouTube, as well as some chris rock and Dave chappelle standup. After an episode of Ghost Whisperer (where Jennifer Love Hewitt saunters around telling people she sees spirits, and helps said spirits resolve their issues so they can go to 'the light'. I don't know which came
first: Ghost Town, with Ricky Gervais, or Ghost Whisperer, but either way, John Edwards probably has a solid lawsuit over intellectual properties... but I digress) We kinda just sat around and ate Milo cookies and granola cereal. I still wanted to get my fill of sun, since it's been a while since it has even come out. So we decided to use the pool at my apartment building. I always forget about the fact that it is only 3.5 feet deep. needless to say, we didn't spend much time in the water. I almost fell asleep trying to soak up some of the rare sun. the storm winds started blowing in the clouds so we went back upstairs and watched a couple hours of MTV reality shows before we headed to Buenavista for some foooood. after our late lunch, we decided to drop by Wendy's house so Kevin could say goodbye. but alas, Wendy wasn't home. perhaps this had something to do with the fact that Kevin forgot to give her a heads up. at any rate, it was starting to rain (for the 3rd time today) so we decided to walk to Kevin's cousin's house for more goodbyes. On the way, we caught an awesome rainbow and when a second one emerged, I couldn't help myself

We walked a few blocks to where Kevin's cousin lives. We just chilled outside until she called to say she was headed home. her family was very gracious, and wanted to go eat with us before Kevin headed to the airport. we headed to Crepes & Waffles. On the way, it came up in conversation that Luis (kevin's cousin's step-father) had studied digital communication at Uninorte, and was now working on documentaries. Over dinner, me and Luis talked about documentaries in Spanglish, with Kevin translating from time to time. aside from a few concepts and several nouns, I think I got by just fine in Spanish. of course, Luis was being very patient with me. I got his email address and i'm going to show him some of my projects. He is working with betacam, which, beleive it or not, really interests me. but he drenes very impressed when I told him I have an XH-A1: 'el es HD?!' "si." 'que chevere!'. to be honest, I find it easier to speak than to listen in Spanish, though I understood nearly everything he said, which is reassuring. however, I think I talked more than my fair share. He is a big fan of music, and after working in television for 10 years, decided to start working on a documentary about musicians en la costa, especially Barranquilleros. I wonder if some time this next week he would be interested in having me along for some of it. :)

After dinner, Luis dropped me at my aunt's apartment before taking Kevin home to his grandparents. 'when are you going to invite me to Utah!?' "you're welcome anytime, just let me know when you're coming."

Chao Kevin

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

A Productive Day

Wednesday I woke up around 9am. I talked to Kevin and we decided to go to El Centro and do some shopping. Kevin is leaving for The United States early friday morning (as a legal resident, w00t!) and he wanted to do some souvenir shopping. We headed out at about 12:45pm. we walked to the intersection where I knew we could get a bus to El Centro, and caught one almost immediately. about 5 minutes into our ride, the bus driver turned on the overhead flourescent lights in the bus, because it had become so dark. Dark? at 1PM?yes. you see, these clouds blow in out of nowhere and block out the sun to the point that you forget what shadows look like. it began pouring down rain, which meant tha by the time we made it to Centro, the street vendors would have packed it in, wrapping their carts in plastic tarps and twine, and wheeling them off the street. El Centro is a commercial district, teeming with street vendors selling everything: shoes, films of illicit content and origin, immitation high fashion accessories, hand-made goods, fresh fruit and vegitables and hot food.

Sure enough, when we arrived, the vendors had all begun huddling under the eaves of the buildings, having already shut down shop. We hopped off the bus in the middle of the intersection to avoid having to backtrack too much in the rain, should we decide to look in the outlet stores. we huddled with the others as the rain came down in front of us, and on our fronts, in sheets. Vendors with good locations on the sidewalks were still open for business, so we decided to forget any notion of staying dry, and just shop in the rain.

that resolve didn't last long. In Colombia, when it rains, it Pours. in Barranquilla, when it rains, it floods. they have no drainage or gutter system in the streets. We made it to an indoor clothing outlet mall. we did Not need clothes. although the did have some pretty nice clothes for very very cheap. :/ we walked around to the little knick-knack stands scattered throughout, but the best deals are to be had in the streets. Kevin had a pill to take, which was now getting soggy in his pocket, so we decided to eat. we found an underground restaurant, and decided to go check it out. however, upon arriving at the bottom of the steps, we realized that the floor was beginning to flood, and after another moment of thought, I realized that it must be backed up sewage. Kevin got a couple empanadas in the little bitty food court, I stepped outside and got some empanadas cooked in the street which were twice as big and half the price. I got full on 1400COP, or about $.70USD.

We watched store keepers fend off the climbing water level with a concerted effort of about 30-40 shop owners weilding brooms before we eventually found a practically empty dining area on the top floor, where we waited out the storm.

when it looked like the "Arroyos" had subsided sufficiently, we went down to the streets and got some good shopping done. Kevin convinced me that I needed a Junior fútbol jersey: Barranquilla's team. the ride back took twice as long because traffic was still backed up from the arroyos (people don't drive in the flooded streets), so by the time we got back to my street, it was nearly 5pm. We decided to stay on and ride all the way to UniNorte and see if we could find Juliana and Wendy, our Madrinas during the Spanish course.

We hung out with Juli while the current group of Spanish students—a group from Japan— got a tour of the University radio facilities. they even did a little recording session in the sound booth, complete with a cry of 'Kare oke!' No joke.

After a bit, we decided to go eat at Dónde Oscar one last time. We left Juli to care for los japoneses and crossed the street to board a bus.

These last two weeks are going by so fast. I have kind of beat myself up for not being as relentless in learning the language as I planned in the beginning. I feel like I've taken the opportunity for granted. Also, it occured to me about a month ago, while shopping with my aunt, that I am recognized around town. The cab drivers at Éxito (supermarket) have recognized my aunt a couple of times. I have been recognized by the vendors in the neighborhood when buying water. The store owners even tell the delivery boys my address without ever speaking to me (they always just gesture, and indicate price by holding up fingers, or punching it into a calculator and holding it up for me to read).

Since we were going to Dónde Oscar, we needed to take a bus besides the one I normally ride from Uninorte. Tonight was the night. As the "Cootransnorte" bus —the one I normally ride— stopped for us, I waved it on. But it didn't move on. presently, the man in the front passenger seat relayed a message from the driver: 'Vamos a Villa Santos!'.

I was in disbelief. I had been recognized and singled out by the bus driver. Awesome. It made my whole week.

After a heaping plate of Salchipapas, we called it a night. A good ending to a very productive day.

Monday, August 30, 2010

Dondé Mas?

Things are looking up for me upon returning to Utah. Who knew that a little time abroad could up my desireability? I have quite a few job prospects open to me; some paying, some simply a chance to make a good impression. Hopefully I can keep myself occupied this winter on film projects that will pay well enough to fund more travels in the spring.

Pending some more planning, I am hoping to take an offer from my aunt Peni, who currently lives and works in Oman. I am hoping to make a documentary about dogs in Islamic culture, specifically the packs of feral dogs who live on the streets in the cities. I have been interested in hybrid documentaries that address issues between nature and culture. For example, the effects of an assortment of bio-invasive species, and their impacts on the residents of Guam, in the south pacific. this is another intriguing situation: the correlation between the wide-spread existence of these dangerous dog packs, and the religious perceptions of Muslims.

After Oman, I intend to go to Nepal and make a documentary about exiled Tibetan monks, whilst simultaneously living with them in a monastery. Probably sounds more than a little cliché, but these are things that fascinate me, and I believe they will prove to improve my understanding of different cultures, as well as my resume. If, as a result of taking advantage of the offers and opportunities I have recieved, I am able to further my personal and professional accomplishments, I will not regret it later. If you've been reading my blog, you may try to remind me of my close call in Panama. However, I choose not to simplify that event as an act of hatered or jealousy. Desperation may play a role, and certainly ignorance and selfishness (albeit in the form of survival tactics).

From what I have witnessed here, there is no 'Laziness' to which poverty can be attributed; people work their fingers to the bone just to maintain the vaguest semblance of a 'life'. Perhaps justifiably, they see "Gringos" as priveledged, if not completely spoiled, ignorant and incompassionate. I think this perception fades with awareness and familiarity, which doesn't happen in an 'us vs. them' state of mind. My goals as a filmmaker, and a student of world culture, are to break the status quo, and encourage a 'we' attitude and understanding of those around us, and around the world. There are too many people in the world today whose perceptions of others are skewed by the ignorant ideology that some are more entitled to a decent existance than others. This is prejudice, and it is perhaps represented by all parties; ignorance begets prejudice, willful ignorance is a double offense.
/rant.

Wish me luck.
And thank you to my new-found friend Michelle, for helping me be proactive.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

"destornillador": How I Learned the Word for Screwdriver.


My last entry was in Spanish, I hardly understood it myself. Here's another version in English.

I spent 5 days in Panama City. I met some very interesting characters, including Alice, a girl who had been bitten by a Botfly in costa rica, where she was teaching English; Jimbo, an Australian who had ridden a motorbike through Central America and was having a hard time processing the paperwork to sell it there in Panama; Jenn and Beth, two girls who were on a reunion adventure after meeting eachother in South Africa a few years ago--they were arriving in the airport at the same time I was; Adam, who has started his own tourboat business in the San Blas islands off the coast of Panama; two British blokes who were planning a global revelution, and hoped to have a meeting with Fidel in Cuba, and many other Go-getter types who were making things happen for themselves. Panama City is a huge hub for people headed elsewhere; whether it be through the canal, down the isthumus and into South America, or up into Central America. Or, more commonly, catching a flight home. I didn't meet many people who actually lived in Panama. Although, I did meet two "locals" who were quite possibly the most beautiful girls I have ever met: Isreli immigrants interestingly enough.

On my last night there, Adam, a girl named Ko (short for a difficult German name) and I decided to go to dinner at The Coca-Cola café, a couple of blocks from Luna's Castle Hostel. The neighborhood is called Casco Viejo, and it's located between Chinatown and San Felipe, un barrio I believe is named after an old cathedral there, which in turn is named after a Saint. the streets seem to have been plotted before the common automobile ever thought of making an appearance there--they are very narrow. The whole area is a tangle of one-way streets and narrow sidewalks.

We walked the two blocks to the café. Since Ko is an economist, we talked about the ecological value and economical impracticalities of alternative/renewable energy Vs. The economical practicality and ecological costs of fossil fuel. I don't think we solved any world problems, but I learned some things.

On the way home, it was quite dark. Since the sidewalks were too narrow to walk 3-deep, I walked in front of the other two. I have found that if I am following someone else, I am less inclined to watch my step. And since there were open and exposed manholes dotting the sidewalks (folks steal the lids and cash them in for scrap metal) I was pretty much occupied with pointing out the obstacles to my friends.

Somewhere in the long stretch between two streetlights, a man started walking beside us--beside me, to be exact. He reached over and tapped my pocket with a grimy fingernail 'tienes dinero?' he asked, pretty plainly.
I tried to shrug him off, 'lo siento, no...' but he didn't give up. 'necesito dinero para comida...' he persisted. 'no tengo plata para ti' I reiterated.

'no? Pero tengo este...' he said, brandishing a skinny, flathead screwdriver about 6 inches long. I could just barely tell what it was, though it kind of glimmered in the dark. I don't know if it was sharpened or not. I stopped walking and turned toward him. I was at a loss as to how to proceed. I had just pulled out enough cash to pay for my cab to the airport, and my next 4 meals. And the cash I had in my pocket was about 1/3 of all the money I have in the world: $80. My friends had stopped about 4 feet or so behind me, and I could just barely see them out of the corner of my eye. I was feeling a little lonely, because they weren't volunteering any help, though I think they both speak much better Spanish than I. I decided to fight the guy. Not a brawl, hopefully. I was trying to find a balance between cooperation and positioning myself to plow into him. I squared up to him as best as I could, and started to reach for my back pockets, crouching as much as I dare. Just as I hit that point where my knees were bent as much as I thought I could get away with (which wasn't much) and just as I had taken a good breath and decided it was go-time, I heard a pistol being cocked somewhere in the darkened void behind my friends, and outside my peripherie on my right. I recognized the sound immediately, and I was somewhat relieved by it; it made my descision much easier:$80 is not worth my life or those around me. I stood up straight again, expecting perhaps 3 or 4 more muggers. I reached for my wallet and was ready to hand it over without hesitation.

Out of the dark came a man with a pistol. Everyone carries .38 special around here, but this looked like a plain ol' 9mm. He held it low, and to the left, with both hands. He had just drawn it from his belt (no holster).

He was walking quickly but quietly, I hadn't pulled out my wallet just yet, but I was sliding my hand into my pocket when he came into full view. He walked directly up to the man with the screwdriver and said (en español) 'what are you doing?'

The man with the screwdriver-shiv lowered it to his side and said innocently 'I was just asking them for some money...' The gunman repeated the question: 'que estas haciendo?'
The man with the shiv was irritated: 'necesito dinero para comidas, mi mamá necesita dinero... Tenemos mucha HAMBRE!'

The gunman told him to get away from us, at which point the first man either dropped the shiv or pocketed it. He then began pushing the gunman with one hand whilst reaching into his pants with the other. I began to back up, expecting him to pull out a gun of his own. I turned to my friends who were standing in silence looking as wide-eyed as I'm sure I was at this point. ' should we go back, go around?' I suggested. But it seemed worse to go back. Maybe because it was pitch dark in that direction, and where we stood was in the edge of the light from a single streetlight. I turned back to the two men, who were sort of doing a one-handed scuffle. The man who had had the shiv was now squatting, pulling his pants down. What he was saying didn't make much sense, and I still can't decide if it was meant to be an insult to the gunman or if the guy was just plain crazy. Anyway, I don't need to repeat it. It occured to me that this was most likely a show that the two were putting on, something like a con: one man threatens us, another man saves the day, we are so grateful that we give him money, or, if we don't give due compensation, he turns the gun on us. I didn't really have time to consider what a good fee would be for chasing the mugger off.

After about a minute, the mugger sat down in the street, under the streetlight. At this point, Adam exclaimed 'is that a Gun!?'. I realized that up to this point, my two compadres hadn't seen what was going on. Because the sidewalks were so narrow, and because the man was holding the screwdriver out to his right--facing away from them, they hadn't understood that he was mugging me, and thought that he was just being pushy and my stalling appeared to just be polite unwillingness to ignore him. They hadn't seen the gun becuase they didn't recognize the ch-chink of it being cocked, and so didn't know to look for it as I had. Only now, when the gun was visible in the streetlight, did they realize what had just transpired.

The man with the gu put it into his belt, satisfied that the man was not going to get up from the curb. I nodded to the gunman to see if we were clear to pass by. I couldn't see his face, but he was standing vigilant, watching the man in the street. We walked past hurriedly and headed back to thx hostel without looking back, and without a much-deserved 'thank you' to our rescuer.

Everyone asks if the gunman was a cop, perhaps undercover. But I highly doubt that was the case. His mannerisms, especially in regard to handling the gun, seem to say that he was just a local who didn't want to see this sort of thing in his neighborhood. I would venture to say that he was
most likely a storeowner, who wanted to Gringos from Luna's Castle to feel safe walking and shopping in that area for years to come. He may even have known the man he was confronting, he held the gun quite deliberately low and at his side, not directly trained on the mugger. He was much more interested in convincing the man to go home than incapacitating him. essentially, he was just a good citizen, looking out for others.

This happened nearly a week ago, and I'm fine. We were kind of shaken up for a bit, and people didn't really beleive us when we told them what had happened, but we were (and are) all okay.

¡Gringo!

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Los Hombres en la Calle

Una noche, unos amigos fueron a comer en el café de la coca-cola. Cuando terminaron, las calles estaban muy oscuras. comenzaron a caminar hasta su casa en la oscuridad. que iban caminando y hablando, el hombre en la calle se acercó a su amigo en el frente (las aceras eran muy estrechas) y dio unos golpecitos en el bolsillo. '¿tienes dinero?' , se preguntó. 'no, no tengo ninguna.' respondió el amigo en el frente. pero el hombre no salió, 'Necesito dinero para comprar comida...' dijo.

'Lo siento, no tengo dinero para usted.' dijo el amigo en el frente. 'no? pero yo tengo esto ...' dijo el hombre de la calle y sacó un destornillador, que brillaban en la oscuridad. el segundo amigo no podía ver el destornillador, y no sabía que el hombre quería decir hacerles daño. el primer amigo que pensar. tuvo que decidir qué hacer. decidió luchar contra el hombre. justo cuando estaba a punto de saltar y empujar al hombre hacia abajo, oyó un ruido en la oscuridad detrás de él. era el sonido de un arma de armado. el primer amigo sabía que esto suena muy bien, y decidió no pelear, después de todo. miró hacia arriba y vio a un hombre con una pistola corriendo hacia ellos. el segundo amigo no podía ver lo que estaba pasando porque estaba muy oscuro y la acera era muy estrecha. el primer amigo pensó que el hombre con el arma que iba a ayudar al hombre con el destornillador, pero una otra cosa ocurrió. le apuntó el arma hacia el hombre con el destornillador y le preguntó '¿Qué estás haciendo?'

El hombre con el destornillador trató de ocultarlo por su cadera, y dijo: "Yo estaba pidiendo algo de dinero", pero el hombre con el arma no le creyó y repitió la pregunta "¿qué estás haciendo" el hombre de la cuchillo se enojó mucho y comenzó a gritar: "Necesito dinero para comprar comida. Mi madre necesita dinero. Estamos todos muy hambrientos!" entonces comenzó a comportarse extrañamente muy, y tiró de sus pantalones abajo. El hombre de la pistola le dijo que alejarse de los amigos. Ahora, el segundo amigo pudo ver la arma en la farola tenue. Entendió lo que estaba sucediendo. El hombre con el destornillador se sentó en la calle y el otro hombre puso su pistola. Los amigos comenzaron a caminar con precaución junto a ellos en la calle. El ladrón se dio vuelta y les gritó "¿por qué no me acaba de dar dinero? Un cuarto? un poco plata?" pero los amigos no se detuvo. Incluso se olvidó de dar las gracias al hombre con el arma.