Why I Haven't Been Writing

Dramatic reenactment of me finding my computer

Well, all, if you follow this blog regularly, you'll notice that lately I haven't been writing. There's a couple reasons for that. The main one is that my computer is dead. I woke up one day and it wouldn't turn on. I thought perhaps it was just the adapter, which had been blinking and acting weird over the last few days. I took it to the computer store to test a new adapter, and it wouldn't turn on. Then I brought it to a repair shop. After several visits and phone calls, they finally told me that it was unrepairable. That there was a short circuit on the mother board, and if you know anything about computer hardware, you know that is like certain death for a computer. Finito. Nothing's bringing poor Kwami back. I can only imagine what his last moments could have been like. Gasping for breath, feeling a throbbing in his processor, thinking "this can't just be heartburn" before he closed his eyes for good. He's up in the sky now, with Alan Turig and Ada Lovelace.

My computer being dead also means that I can't travel or do much of anything except stay home and study languages and watch South Park on my cell phone. I have to save what's left of my last month a stipend to buy a computer for job searching when I get back to the US. Oh, and also those translations of Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer's poems that keep getting shelved for one reason or another. That's kind of an important goal for Indiana too. On the bright side, I'm getting a lot of Japanese practice in, and my Coursera courses are getting a lot of attention.

Bonjour, mes petits. Je suis venu pour vous enseigner anglais.
Hello, little ones. I've come to teach you English.

But suffice it to say, if I can't go out into the world, I don't really have too much of interest to write about, and truth be told, I'm pretty sure I'm over Colombia and more excited for things to come anyway. I found out a few weeks back that I was accepted into the Teaching Assistant Program in France, and so sometime in mid- to late September, I'll be going to France. I don't have too many details yet, but I know I will be in the académie of Nantes and that I'll be teaching in a primary school (or potentially schools, plural, despite only working an official 12 hours a week). And I'm pretty excited about that. Word's still out on whether I'll blog about France or in the Midwestern interim. It really just depends on how well I can balance commitments that I should start putting first, like making money so I can travel while I'm in France since TAPIF is not quite as generous as Fulbright with their stipends and paying off credit cards so I don't have to worry about transferring money between banks to pay off US bills. Oh, and finishing those damn Bécquer translations. I'm really disappointed with myself for letting it take so long because there's some other writing projects I'd like to move on to. Particularly the novel that's been haunting me for the last two years, begging to be written. You know, the one that I originally wanted to make as a musical set to the music of English rock band Muse but abandoned that idea when I realized: 1) I would never get the rights to Muse's music to actually produce the thing and 2) It started to get too dark to be a musical. It was originally, as a musical, supposed to have a Buffy the Vampire Slayer kind of sensibility. A bit of horror, a bit of soap opera, a bit of humor. But as a book, I'm not sure if that would work as well. Oh, it's about the apocalypse. That's all you get for free, bitches.

But as for now, things are good, even though I think my tolerance for all the things I've found annoying in Colombia has dropped pretty low in these last thirty-ish days that remain. I think maybe I'm just anxious to get back to the US and then on to France. But although I look at the three or four months in the great state of Indiana as a bit of a waiting period, I am actually excited to be back home int he place I'd never thought I'd call home again. It feels nice to know that I'm going to a place where a bunch of people are excited to see me; it feels good to be welcome someplace, to be liked for who I am instead being seen as a free chance to practice English or as some kind of bizarre, otherworldly creature. As much as I'm in a period of my life where I want to travel and see the world, these little breaks are necessary because one of the best things about traveling abroad, especially as a disgruntled expatriate, is that you appreciate things about your own culture just a little bit more.

A Love Letter to (Part of) Colombia

For Semana Santa, I spent a whole week in Medellin. My second time. And I've already made a few trips to the coffee area as well. I've gotten to know the region a bit, and it's been my favorite place in the country. So while I was there, I thought, why not right a love letter to the paisas of Colombia for my blog? I should, after all, say something nice about Colombia for once.

You win. Congratulations. You're my favorite, and I hope you can accept this simple token of my esteem: My undying love. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

First, you have Medellin, and Medellin is by far the most fun and pleasant major city in Colombia. The metro is a dream compared to Cali's MIO and Bogotá's TransMilenio. It gets crowded, but after the other two systems, anyone would take crowded over squished-like-a-god-damn-sardine. It's also pretty darn clean. I could eat off those floors. Well, as far as public transportation goes. So not really, but thanks for making me think that I maybe kind of could if I were homeless and I had to.

Medellin also has all sorts of fun stuff. That Universidad stop is action packed with touristy goodness: First off, there's the Parque Explora, which is the first thing I have ever encountered that could rival the Indianapolis Children's Museum--I hope you understand what kind of compliment that is because that museum is the shit. I suggest taking my niece sometimes just so I can go and enjoy it myself. There's also a planetarium, an amusement park (Parque Norte), and botanic gardens that you could lose yourself in complete with wandering iguanas and a butterfly garden.

And even if you're not the city type, right outside the city but still accessible by public transportation, there's Parque Arvi, which is a village-park combo that's perfect for getting away from the city if you need a breather. The ride there in the cable cars is kind of an attraction in and of itself. But if you wanna party it up at night, you can do that too. The bar scene and especially the gay scene in Medellin overshadows what little they have in Cali. WannaIce beats the heck out of Queens with its more open space and alcoholic icees. And that's probably not even what most people in Medellin would even list as a "good" gay bar. There's more open social spaces in general, such as Parque Lleras, which makes it easier to meet strangers to talk to... or hook up with, whichever. I suppose the San Antonio Church is a bit like that, but Caleños are too busy trying to force their English down your throat and acting like their cultural is some sort of mystical thing you will never begin to understand and then something about salsa.

Wait. Positive. We're staying positive this post.

But, I know, mis paisas, there's more to you than Medellin. There's the coffee region, with lovely farms, towns, nature, and people to see. And the people are the best. That's why I'm even writing this! Paisas are the most polite Colombians I've met. Not once is some asshole trying to talk broken English to my face or responds back to me in English when all I want to do is buy a damn empanada and go about my business. They're not exempt from the things about general Colombian culture that most Americans find bothersome, but at least it's turned down from eleven to a manageable six. I think this is because I've seen signs of, get this, people actually thinking about what they're going to say before it just steamrolls out of their mouths and over your face, leaving you feeling violated and bruised. You treat me like a normal person, paisas, instead of like an animal that you want to poke and examine and then ask for free English lessons from and maybe get to buy you lunch. You make a guy feel special, mis paisas. You make him feel welcome, and you share your culture without assuming that it's beyond me to understand how good a bandeja paisa is (the perfect combination of flavors for lunchtime, by the way). You are, in comparison with Cali, completely unimpressed than I'm foreign, and that totally impresses me. You don't make me feel special but normal, and that's what I appreciate most of all.

I just wanted to let you know that, mis paisas. You're super groovy, and someone needed to hold you tight in the night and whisper sensually in your little ear, "Thank you, mis paisas, for being you. Thank you."

I'll visit you soon. Once more before I go.

All my love,
Adam