City girl goes Latina

Big-ass ants.

That’s the translation of hormigas culonas, which I had the pleasure of eating yesterday. Fried and salted, they’re a speciality of the Santander region where I’m now living. According to Lonely Planet this tradition dates back 500 years, when they were eaten by Indigenous people as an aphrodisiac. Although I had willingly agreed to taste them, it was pretty hard to make the transition from hand to mouth. Eventually I had to close my eyes to munch it down – but in the end it tasted pretty good! And whilst on the subject of insects, the other day I had my first cockroach incident in Colombia. I tried to be zen but couldn’t stop thinking about how the cucaracha might scuttle over my face whilst asleep. In true terminator style, I got fired up and armed myself with my best weaponry – the flip-flop. Needless to say, the bitch is dead now (although admittedly after a long chase).

                           

But it’s not all been insect related. I’ve been lucky enough to have been “adopted” into the loveliest Colombian family. I’m living with the sweetest lady who has ten brothers and sisters. Of course they have children, and the children have children so it’s a giant family! Last weekend I was invited to the family country house for Sunday lunch with everyone. The house is amazing; up a mountain and surrounded by lush vegetation so it felt like I was in Tarzan. The food too was fantastic – barbequed steak, corn on the cob, chorizo sausage, Cuban rice, yuca and potatoes.

                          

I’ve had a pretty busy week – at the moment I’m closely involved with the rehabilitation of a landmine victim who’s just started the process of using a prosthetic leg. I’ve been going to the hospital with him almost every day for his physical therapy, and also got to go to a special clinic to see how they construct prosthetic limbs. The farm also welcomed twenty student volunteers last Saturday, who came for a guided tour and also kindly made lunch for us. Yesterday I was busy working with Colombian Red Crossand Handicap International in drafting a constitution for establishing the rights of landmine victims. The meeting lasted over four hours and I was pretty drained by the end of it!

I also had a little daytrip away this week – to a rural town called Yarima, about three hours away. We had to leave at 4am in the morning to get to Yarima on time (life generally starts ridiculously early in Colombia) but I was kept awake by the scenery – row upon row of palm trees, mountains with sheer drops, and buffaloes milling around in tropical fields. When we actually arrived in Yarima my boss went to a meeting whilst I gave out my standard “hi I’m English” spiel in the local school. Yarima is so rural that they don’t even have proper roads, just dirt tracks. And although I like animals, visiting a school which had chickens and cows roaming around was something else.

So, I’ve really been experiencing the Colombian life - although I’m not sure if I’ll be eating those ants again soon!

I’ve been in Colombia for just over 2 weeks now but it somehow feels like a lot longer. Not that this is a bad thing – I feel like I’ve really settled into my new home, in a town called Girón which is near Bucaramanga. Although I thought I was going to be in Bogotá, I feel like some changes are for the better and this is one of them – I’m now living with the loveliest Colombian lady who regards me as the daughter she never had (she has one grown up son) and I’m working with some great people. The majority of my work is at a self-sustainable farm for landmine victims. The victims live here and grow enough fruit & veg to live off, and of course have some farm animals too. My job is an easy one – I help a bit on the farm, I talk to the victims, and learn more about their life whilst they learn more about mine.

I’ve also been to a couple of secondary schools now too, to talk about England and landmines. I was pretty terrified before getting up in front of a crowd of 16 year olds, let alone the fact that I would be speaking in Spanish – a language I feel I’ve not mastered yet. However it went really well, the kids got really involved and I only managed to slip up properly once (I accidently said “mummy” in Spanish instead of “mum” – cue raucous laughter). We went to one quite poor and run down school, where the rooms were cramped and didn’t have any windows (a room without natural sunlight is very depressing). It made me appreciate how lucky I’ve been to even be able to go to school – a lot of the landmine victims are from the countryside, and haven’t had a lot of education. They don’t understand that there are other countries with a different style of life – many of them have asked me how many landmines England has, and how long the la Guerra (they call the fight between FARC and the government “the war”)has been going on in England. However now they’re desperate to learn more, and a few of them are studying for the Colombian equivalent of GCSEs.

Living in a more rural location definitely has its benefits (hot weather, woohoo!) but it also has its cons. Mosquitoes are my biggest enemy right now, and despite dowsing myself in repellent I’m still being bitten a lot. Every time I get a new bite I get mild paranoia, because I’m now in malaria area (which I hadn’t prepared for, as I thought I’d be in Bogotá) but haven’t got any anti-malarials. Also, where I’m living doesn’t have hot water. This in itself takes a lot of getting used to (the water is freezing), but it’s quite common to have the water cut out too. Yesterday we didn’t have any water at all, which was annoying for the simple things like not being able to wash your hands or flush the toilet. Also, it’s quite common to have someone hand you a drink and to look down to see a baby fly or an ant swimming around in it. Although the speciality in this region is giant fried ant, so maybe I’m getting a treat…

Let me see you move like you come from Colombia

I’ve been in Colombia for four days and I have still not yet seen Shakira. Whilst this has been a bit of a blow to the start of my new life here, everything else has been going well (almost).

Indeedy, I had a bit of a nightmare at Heathrow airport when I arrived to check-in at the ridiculous time of 4.30am. Mrs. Iberia behind the desk refused to let me on the flight as my return flight was for the end of August, and a Colombia tourist visa is only for 3 months. Although I tried to calmly tell her that I knew this, and that I was planning on extending my visa whilst out there, she kept barking scary sentences like “you’re violating international immigration law” and calling me “madam” which is never good, unless you’re being addressed by your butler. I felt like I was in a scene from Airport, only there were no cameras around to rant to about how unreasonable they were being. After a while she finally told me that the only way I could board was if I changed my flight ticket to three months from today. Which cost €120. Thank you very much. Apparently I can change this ticket back when I receive my visa extension, but it was a lot of unnecessary hassle and when I arrived in Bogota the Colombian immigration didn’t even ask me when I would be departing.

Before arrival I had the pleasure of a 10 hour flight, next to a baby and two puppies. Yes, real life dogs. I have no idea why they weren’t in the hold compartment with the luggage, but I also saw a woman boarding the plane with a guinea pig in its cage so obviously Iberia have some weird animal menagerie allowance in their luggage limit.

I’ve been in Bogota for a few days now and have been just mooching around. I had originally planned to have these days as orientation days and to find a flat before starting work today, but after arriving I received an email from my boss telling me to contact him as he had an “interesting proposal” for me. This proposal later transpired to be a relocation! As the Bogota office already has two English speakers working there, he wants me to move to another office in Bucaramanga. I’m still waiting for confirmation from uni that this is ok, but basically I should be moving there soon! I don’t know much about Bucaramanga except that it should be hot - Bogota is at high altitude in the Andes so is actually quite cool. It’s also further north and thus nearer the Caribbean coast - I knew there was a reason why I bought a new bikini. 

Although it’s nice and relaxing at the moment, I feel a bit like I’m in limbo as I’ve not got anywhere permanent to live (as I’m not living in Bogota I’m just having to continue on at my hostel) and won’t be starting work properly until next week. It’s all a little bit nerve-racking as I have no idea how things will turn out and my friend count is currently 0. Until then, I’m just taking in the sights of Bogota and tasting some Colombian delights. And of course looking out for Shakira.

End of an era

Seven months, three schools, one town… somehow it’s all finally over, and I’m sat typing this back in London. These past few months literally just whizzed past, and I feel like my time in Nevers was only just beginning – settling into a smaller town is actually quite difficult, especially in France where there are some (/quite a lot) of people who want nothing to do with you if you’re foreign. Yet somehow we all managed to find our way, made French friends and sometimes even got smiles on the street instead of frowns. I’ve made some amazing friends from all over the world, and memories which I will never forget. It was also really sad leaving the kids, especially my nursery class who just couldn’t understand why I wasn’t coming back.

However I was determined to take back a slice of France with me, and so stocked up on some essential goods… 

1)      Wine
Nevers is in the Burgundy region which is famous for its reds, so of course I went home with several bottles. No more pre-lashing with Tesco value’s finest carton boxed wine!

2)      Cheese
I am a cheese fiend and am going to miss these French beauties… My particular faves are Boursin (garlic & herb or black pepper), Saint Albray, Port Salut, Rocamadour, Reblochon and the classic Camembert. 

3)      Speculoos
Speculoos is a type of biscuit and isn’t actually French – I’ve just never found it in England (I think it may be Belgian - not sure!). Speculoos biscuits are yummy but you can also buy a speculoos spread which is AMAZE and so good on crêpes.

4)      Raclette & crêpe machine

You cook raclette below and crêpes on top! In a sudden moment of hysteria I decided to buy one of these babies, and am not regretting it at all. MMMMM. Crêpe parties next year? Ok!

5)      Mustard 

I’m not a huge mustard fan but since my family are, I’ve picked up several jars. The most famous brand is Maille, and they have got some craaaazy mustards type – blackcurrant mustard for example! 

Although it was heartbreaking to leave Nevers and all the people I love in it, I’m so happy that I made such great friends. I’ve not got a lot of time left to dwell on it as I have just over a week at home before jetting off to Bogotá, Colombia. For now, I’m just enjoying how beautiful England is in this weather. Happy Easter everyone!

The beginning of the End

I don’t quite know how, but my time in France is almost up. As I reach the endpoint I realise how at home I feel – evidence of this being that I actually went for a haircut in Nevers (letting someone near my hair with scissors is a big deal). I finally managed to go to Beaune, which I had actually planned to visit on my birthday way back in October – only we weren’t able to go because of train strikes (typical France). But Beaune was worth the wait – it’s a really French, cute little town with some great wine. We managed to catch the Saturday market which was fantastic – so many different types of food, including ostrich salami. I stocked up on presents for the family; however these have consequently been lost in the scrapheap that is my bedroom. I hope to rediscover said presents upon moving out.

I also went to Chalon-sur-Saône to visit my friend Lucy from uni, and it was great to catch up (even if we did both complain about the Year Abroad task – absolute nightmare). Chalon was really pretty and we saw lots of chocolate “poisson d’avril” in all the shops – basically poisson d’avril is the French equivalent of April Fool’s Day. You cut out paper fish, and stick them on people’s backs. On Friday I thought I was clever enough to remove all the fish before walking home from school, only to find one lonely fish still attached. Merci les enfants!

We also went for a nice long drive in the countryside this weekend, around the Morvan national park. We went up to the highest point in the Morvan (from which you can see Mont Blanc on a good day) and we got to see some Roman ruins too! There was an old tiny church right at the summit and inside we found lots of twigs in the shape of the cross – considering it was very dark and dank, it was pretty creepy and very Blair Witch esque.

The weather here has been amazing recently so we’ve been spending lots of time outside, picnicking or going for walks. I’ve now only got 2 weeks left before I head back to Blighty! And in just under a month I’m going to be moving HERE:

This converted country girl is going to have to get used to the city again!

Ciao bella! Highlights from Italia

“Hello beautiful ladies… Can we follow you?”

No, we didn’t meet Berlusconi whilst on holiday in Italy – rather just some random teenage boys who had hopped off their vespa to chat to us (the element of cool from the vespa was tainted by the fact that they were probably only 17, and hence could only afford one vespa between the two of them). Oh Italy, you sure don’t disappoint – food, history, culture and… sleazy men. However the latter only added to the hilarious moments I shared with three of my besties from France whilst in Italy.

Indeed, it had its advantages at times – upon our arrival in Rome (where we stayed at Hotel Beautifull – yes, Beautifull with two Ls) we were greeted by Mike, who told us he always had a soft spot for pretty girls like us (somehow still beautiful after spending 12 hours overnight on a train, having had no sleep and no time to do makeup) and not only allowed us to check in early but upgraded us to an ensuite room. At the time we were absolutely ecstatic, only to later discover that the shower door broke as soon as we touched it (so our bathroom was permanently wet) and that it smelt of damp mould. Cheers Mike.

I’d been to Rome once before and six years later and the magic still hasn’t worn off for me – in what other city could you go out for drinks and have the Colosseum in your sightline? We did all the usual sights and of course ate a lot of amazing food… I have to admit that I even became Italian and ate pasta as a starter, then followed it with pizza. As a result, I can inform you that food baby is developing well. 

Later on that week we hopped on a train to Florence – a city I’d never been to before. Whilst Rome is ancient, Florence is Renaissance and so the two cities feel very different. I absolutely loved walking around the cobbled streets, being surrounded by beautiful Tuscan countryside. One really cute thing I noticed about Florence was that there were padlocks everywhere, which I later found out were love padlocks (http://www.firenzealbergo.it/EN/Experience-Florence/romantic-getaway/pages/leggende-amore-ponte-vecchio.aspxs). Basically you write both names of the couple of the padlock and then fix it somewhere public to symbolise your love. If you throw the key away into the Arno river below, your love will last forever.

Whilst we were in Florence, England was playing France in the 6 Nations. In true English style we decided that it was an absolute must to find a pub to watch the match. Despite loving la vie française, I was desperate to see England beat the frogs so I could go back to Nevers and brag. Since the match wasn’t until later that afternoon, we decided to have a picnic lunch in the Boboli Gardens and get a bit merry before the match. We picked up huge bottles of Peroni and giant size bags of crisps. What we hadn’t accounted for was having our bags searched upon entry to the Boboli Gardens. Looking back now, it was pretty hilarious seeing the security man’s puzzled look as he opened our bags and found big bottles of beer and large quantities of fried potato snacks. Of course, we were refused entry but were told that if we went in the main entrance we could check our food & drink into the cloakroom. After struggling with the map for a while, we managed to navigate our way and safely checked in our snacks… and then spent the afternoon worrying about whether the cloakroom staff would eat and drink everything we’d checked in. Luckily they didn’t and the Boboli Gardens were stunning, plus England later beat France in the rugby (HAH).

When I arrived back in Nevers it was time for mardi gras and carnival. Shrove Tuesday was duly respected and I spent the day stuffing my face with pancakes (with my new favourite topping, a spread called Spéculoos – if you live in France, Belgium, Germany or the Netherlands go out and find it NOW – it’s so good). Then on Friday one of my schools held a carnival in the afternoon. When my teacher invited me I had no idea what she was talking about – in England we go crazy with pancakes but not much else. However we English need to learn how to lighten up and get our carnaval on, because it’s potentially one of the best celebrations ever. Basically everyone gets dressed up (and I mean serious costumes) and then there’s a parade with lots of confetti throwing and music and then fooooood. It was so cute to see the kids all dressed up, and the homemade cakes were the best I’ve tasted. Times like this remind me how much I love my job. Vive le carnaval!

Here comes the lurgy monster

Working with kids has the oh so lovely benefit of catching their germs, and thanks to my little ones I’ve been off ill practically all week. I’ve discovered that being ill whilst on year abroad is not fun (less so than usual). The first scary step? Having to call in sick. There’s something about talking on the phone in a foreign language that makes me want to throw my mobile out of the window. Asking for a day off didn’t make the prospect of ringing in any better, although in the end all of my schools were fine with it – after all, the French are off school all the time anyway for strikes (I’ve got more strikes this week, yippee!).

After trying to man it out the first few days with just a carton of orange juice, I finally admitted to myself that vitamin C would not be enough and that I would have to venture to the pharmacy. I’m not usually big on medicine, but the night before I managed to burn my eye with eucalyptus oil which I’d put on my pillow (supposedly helps sinuses, in reality it just burns any skin it touches) and I’d decided that I’d had enough with the herbal stuff and wanted some fat tablets to make me feel better, or at least to act as a placebo. The pharmacist looked like she had no idea what type of medicine I wanted, either due to the fact that my nose was so stuffed up I could hardly talk, or (more likely) she was just being French and wasn’t in the mood to serve customers. After a while of pointing at my nose and head and other bits of my body that hurt, she eventually presented me with a few impressive looking boxes. I paid up, only at home to find that she’d given me the weirdest medicine I’ve ever encountered.

I was hoping for some sort of super tablet or a Lemsip equivalent, but instead she’d given me a spray to clear my stuffy nose. Apparently these are pretty normal Stateside, but I’ve never seen anything like it before – an aerosol spray with a giant, pointy end which you stick up your nostril and then spray. A pretty scary pointy end. I decided to just use the damn thing since I’d spent enough on it. The result was not pleasant – it felt like it’d gone up all the way into my brain. Feeling like I’d just shot up some deadly potion, I checked the ingredients only to find it was just SALT WATER. I’d paid €6 for something I could’ve just mixed together myself.

So, basically I’ve learnt that the only real cure for a cold is sleep, a good cuppa and my fave DVDs.