The Empanada 15

This post has nothing to do with my weekend travels nor does it include scenic pictures (although I have quite the arsenal locked and loaded now) but rather this post addresses one of the few dark sides of life abroad – dun, dun, dun, – weight gain or in my case most accurately phrased “The Empanada 15.”  This is something I have wanted to write about for a long time and while it is quite an uncomfortable subject I feel it is important to open up this conversation if not for others it will at least give me some peace of mind.

What prompted me to finally write this? Well it all started on a Tuesday ( I HATE Tuesdays)…

I arrived at school with minor headache from anticipating my three hours with eighth graders. During ‘el descanso’ (the break) I took my snack and a stack of papers to grade into the teachers’ lounge where about six other staff members were chatting all seated in a circle. I greeted everyone in the room, an ABSOLUTE must in Colombian culture unless you want to be shunned, and took an empty seat in the corner of the room. I began grading some work as a male teacher approached me and said, “Sarita, you look more beautiful now than when you came because you have gained weight.” The entire room filled with laughter. Honestly, I thought I had misheard him, while my Spanish is definitely improving it still has it’s lapses. I nervously turned to my co-teacher and asked her to translate what he said to me seriously hoping the mediocre Spanish-English dictionary in my brain had malfunctioned. My worst nightmare came true, I was correct. In a room full of laughter, all I wanted to do was cry. Fighting back hot and heavy tears I forced a smile and continued to sit there. I have never felt more alone in this country.

Now, I am well aware that I live in the land of ‘gorditos’, ‘negros’, and ‘flacas.’ During my time in both Buenos Aires and here in Colombia I have grown accustomed to the uhh honesty? of Latin Culture. For example, during my first week at school, once again, in the teachers’ lounge a few were trying to identify exactly which Valentina one was referring to (I cannot count on one hand how many Valentinas I have in my classes):

Teacher A: “Which Valentina are you talking about?”
Teacher B: “Oh you know, the gordita (fat little one) who studies a lot in the tenth grade.

I once again found myself thinking, “Did I hear that correctly?” Teacher B was in fact praising this student, however, I could not get past the “gordita” comment. But in Colombian culture this is a term of affection. I cannot imagine calling a tenth grade female student “little fat one” but here it’s completely normal.

Fast-forward three months and here I am sitting in the corner biting my lip, blinking away tears, and trying to swallow that annoying weight in your throat that always comes with you’re trying not to cry. Anyways, this post is in no way supposed to be a negative reflection on my school, teachers, nor Colombia, rather, it is to highlight a cultural difference that makes me extremely uncomfortable. After all, a key component of traveling abroad is addressing and learning about cultural differences. As a twenty-something former female athlete, weight and more importantly a positive body image has been a life-long struggle. Beginning with my ballerina days I was constantly in an environment of deprivation. Coming from a history of disordered eating, I have strived my entire life to stay on track, eliminate the bad thoughts, and embrace the ‘love your body’ mentality, you know like the Dove commercials. I speak for many females when I say easier said than done. As little as a side comment can swing me off my balance for days, weeks, and even months. It’s been about two months since the said incident and those words still remain plastered in my head.

I’m not fat. I know that. I’m actually pretty athletic. I can still run a sub 7 minute mile with little training and yes, I can do pushups. In the end what is said is said and I cannot go back and “unhear” this comment. In fact, this comment was supposed to be a compliment. I’m sure the teacher had no idea I would be thinking and analyzing a single sentence. While I am aware empanadas don’t exactly have the same caloric intake as celery sticks I am enjoying my time abroad which also means embracing the culture (read: I’m eating food). So while my pants may be a bit tighter and my monthly mileage may be a bit lower I am loving every minute of life abroad. Part of experiencing a new culture is trying the local cuisine. Fortunately, my stomach has had zero issues assimilating into the Colombian way of life: the bread is rich, the coffee is strong, and the empanadas are plentiful, Sarita is happy. Colombian food is delicious, but as the daughter of two medical professionals I am constantly at war with the nutrition label (if there even is one).  In fact, even the “healthy” foods here are not exactly healthy. A few weeks ago I watched in horror as the barista poured a week’s equivalent of sugar into my juice. I hope I am still part of the No Cavity Club after this year… While Colombian women are #blessed with all the curves in all the right places, I (the gringa) am forever fighting kankles alongside the roaches in my shower.

So after living in two South American countries I’ve learned many invaluable things and would not trade my time abroad for anything, not even a year’s supply of Peter Pan Honey Roasted Peanut Butter. Since Buenos Aires I have tried to reason with myself that gaining weight is not a death sentence, that carbs are indeed meant to be eaten (and not stared at), and if someone offers you empanadas your response better be HYFR.

So senoras y senores, here is the rationale I have come up with:

Weight gain. A scary combination of words for anyone. I try not to generalize, but as a former college athlete and ballet dancer, I have witnessed quite the array of eating habits, both healthy and unhealthy. I’ve restricted, I’ve eliminated, I’ve cut. I’ve been vegetarian, vegan, paleo, gluten-free, and now my current diet: strict pastry-only. As I am forever waiting for the day that a study reveals carbs are the new kale, I do not for see that happening any time soon. So I’ve gained a few pounds, these pounds are like (semi-permanent) souvenirs. Here’s the tagline: I can lose the weight but I can’t lose the memories! In all seriousness looking back to my college years shows a true testament that yes, the freshman 15 is real, ya’ll. But I would not trade my late-night Cookout runs nor 1am drunken Dominos Pizza online orders to have a skinnier arm in pictures. That’s what perfecting the skinny arm pose is for! I’m not promoting an all Denny’s Diner diet (is Denny’s an international franchise yet?), however living abroad has taught me that I can be happy without chiseled six-pack abs (not that I have ever experienced this sensation but using for dramatic effect here). It took me a three plane tickets and a few thousand miles to come to terms with this realization but addressing alongside accepting weight gain abroad has been a monumental life lesson for me.

For me, the cheese to my hot chocolate (trying to use a Colombian food combination as a metaphor, just roll with it) about living abroad are the endless opportunities to experience a new culture. Colombian culture is constantly at my fingertips, literally sitting with empanada in my left hand as I write. From embracing a new language to testing my white girl dance moves on the salsa floor to accidentally ordering cow liver ( now that is a distinct smell I will never forget) everyday is truly an adventure. Living among the happiest people in the world here in Colombia makes me realize that worrying about a few pounds here and there is a serious waste of time.

If you have made it this far in my post, congrats! While most of my posts are full of happy thoughts (I LOVE COLOMBIA) and pictures, I hope this post gives a realistic insight to a constant struggle while living abroad. The opening of this conversation might help others but if nothing else it really helps me organize my own thoughts on maintain a positive body image thousands of miles away from home. In just 1400 words I have described around five years of frustration. As I enter the second half of my “Jordan year” here’s to a few more pushups and a little less Aguardiente (maybe). ~Sarita

Tunage:

So I apologize for the lack of this week’s TuNeS but I have been working at an English camp for two weeks without great internet which limited my tune time. Below you will find some recent favorites though.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJ_Tw0w3lLA Dark Necesities- RHCP (Dad! Check this out.)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XfXvOXJLJK4 Sin Saber Por Qué- Manuel Medrano (Can’t get enough of this guy.)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n1PSltPqeQc Pierde Los Modales- J. Balvin y Daddy Yankee (What a great combo really.)

BeSiToS de Cali!

 

 

 

Studying Abroad vs. Working Abroad

Buenas, parceros.

As I approach the halfway mark here in Cali, Colombia I am experiencing a whirlwind of emotions: excited for summer vacation (Caribbean here I come), sad it’s already June, and seriously confused where all the time has gone. Donde?! In short, living abroad truly is a rollercoaster of emotions. While I may be moodier than most (remember I am a Libra), my relatively brief time here has taught me to roll with the punches, learn from the failures, and most importantly, laugh off the annoying catcalls. That being said, I will never truly get used to walking through the Centro and having ancient men (I’m talking oxygen tank and canes, ppl) whisper in my ear “monaaaaaa (blonde).” MonO means monkey so for the first month I thought I was being called a monkey. But seriously, next time you say that imma unplug that oxygen tank of yours, just playing…kinda. As some of you may be aware of already, my tolerance for elderly people is very, nonexistent.

Anyways, before arriving in Colombia I had, or so I thought, a faint idea of what to expect that was based off my semester in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Since January, I have learned that Argentina and Colombia are two very different countries with different customs, populations, and cultures. ~~*gasp*~~ Further, there are quite a few differences between studying abroad for a semester and living/working abroad for an extended amount of time. I am #blessed to have experienced both during the past two years and have enjoyed both for different reasons. While Buenos Aires is full of breathtaking monuments and lined with cafés where some of the world’s most famous writers sipped on a cup o’ joe, Cali is truly an undiscovered paradise with a beautiful passion for life in every city corner. Below I’ll try to sound smart as I relay my personal thoughts on the pros, cons, as well as differences between studying abroad and working abroad.

Studying Abroad-

If you are a recent college graduate from the United States, it is more than likely that you took part in a study abroad program, so did your sibling, your sorority sister, your freshman year roommate, etc. etc. Studying abroad almost seems like a rite of passage for the modern day college student. In my case, it was actually cheaper to study abroad for a semester, gotta love liberal arts schools. You probably have enough pictures from your semester to fuel an entire calendar year of #tbts. Honestly I cannot talk because I have my own personal arsenal ready at any Thursday’s notice. I spent my junior year spring in the “Paris of South America,” Buenos Aires. I went with the School for International Training (SIT) on a program that focused on the study of human rights and social movements in Argentina. I took classes at a private university with the other twenty-five Americans in the program along with a Spanish course at the University of Buenos Aires (UBA). In Buenos Aires I had limited interaction with Argentines due to a busy class schedule that I shared with the others in my program however I lived with an AMAZING host family which immensely improved my Spanish skills.

It also marked my first time living outside the United States which is an intimidating move for any twenty-one year old especially when your only prior experience with public transportation is a single Uber ride. Honestly I had never even flagged a taxi prior to Buenos Aires. In short this experience was a huge step for small-town Sara. But when looking back two years later I have to admit I wish I would have pushed myself more: to meet locals, to travel outside the city, to venture outside tourist traps, and to say yes more.

My fellow classmates in the program were and continue to be nothing short of amazing. Many of us stay in contact through various forms of social media and I consider them some of my lifelong friends. When you and a group of complete strangers are dropped off in an unknown city with a different official language you form a bond. Then when you go wine tasting on bikes in Mendoza that’s when you REALLY solidify your friendship, see pic below. But in all seriousness shout out to the lovely putas/ (and three hombres!) on my program. SIT did a wonderful job assisting us in every way possible: through orientation, 24/7 support, and a lovely staff. Truly we were “babied” because we constantly had someone checking in on us, assistance with language, and even though it did not seem like it at the time, we were really just American tourists with a better title, “studying.” I could take personal days from class and no one would ask me why or for a doctor’s note. In short, study abroad life was an extended vacation and I definitely miss the perks of being an exchange student with few responsibilities.

I would be lying if I said my abroad experience was always wonderful. I struggled a lot during that semester and at times even second-guessed my decision to come to such a large, Spanish-speaking city. “London would have been sooo much easier!” I scribbled in my journal on April 10, 2014. I was in constant battle between craving familiarity and desiring the unknown. As an insecure introvert I was ashamed at my intermediate Spanish which swayed me away from interacting with Argentines when I had the chance. On a tourist visa and with a return ticket back to the States, I was very listo to come home in June.

At the time four and a half months was just enough for me outside the United States, away from my friends, and missing binge drinking weekends in college, however I left BA wanting more: more adventures, more Spanish, more unknown, and more Latin America. My semester abroad was pivotal in widening my limited sight preoccupied with Friday’s themed party (how do I make a toga?!), stressing over 35 page history papers (due tomorrow), and trying to please everyone around me. Pardon the cliché, but study abroad changed my life by shattering my comfort zone that I hibernated in throughout my college days. I returned to Davidson with more confidence and happier than I had been in my prior three years there. In fact, senior year I drove the struggle bus and things I used to enjoy around campus now seemed quite dull after living in BA. I counted down the days until graduation when I could once again depart from the United States in search of a new challenge. I didn’t want just to talk about “that one time I studied abroad,” I was ready to have a life abroad.

Working Abroad-

Lately I have received quite a few emails asking if I actually work here. Answer: I do indeed have a job forming the minds of Colombia’s youth, in English. I just happened to choose a country that has the second most holidays in the WORLD. Nice work, Sarita. Thus, in reference to working abroad I can only speak to life as a teacher.

My year in Colombia has proven to be the perfect next step in my travels. A full year, a job contract, daily interaction with Colombians, and just enough time for domestic weekend travel = perfecto. I truly could not have asked for a better first “job” after college graduation. I put job in quotations because I rarely feel that “omg I don’t want to go to work today” feeling. Living in the happiest country in the world truly is contagious.

As an English Teaching Fellow I am contracted by Heart for Change (HFC), a Colombian non-profit that recruits native English speakers around the globe to work (co-teach) in public high schools throughout the country. The majority of my Colombian students have limited access to English and most have never interacted with a native speaker. The organization works in tandem with the Colombian Ministry of Education, so yeah, we are kinda a big deal. In all seriousness, I have nothing but great things to say about the staff, administration, and overall organization of HFC. If you are considering a meaningful position teaching abroad, I highly recommend adding HFC to your list.

While the thrill of living abroad has yet to wear off, working abroad is significantly more difficult than studying for a semester. For starters, I am here for a full year, January-December 2016, however, while at first this time frame seemed daunting I am quickly realizing how short a year can be! Further, I am not just passing through this beautiful country. I have an official cedula (the Colombian identification card), a Colombian bank account, and health insurance through the government. I do not have a return ticket home and honestly I am not sure if the States will be my return destination at the end of this year, TBD. With such an open-ended time frame this gives you more time to have those “OMG what am I doing?” moments, which I promise you will occur more than once. Also, in Buenos Aires I had concrete plans upon my return to the United States as I had a final year of college left to complete. Ask any of my friends and they will tell you I have a different post- program plan for each day of the week here. The majority of my notebook is filled with life plan scribbles and tables. With that American mentality of work,work,work,work,work (thnx riri) it adds an additional challenge to living abroad. As an avid planner, I constantly feel the need to plan out EVERYTHING: my day, the following month, year, my five year plan, omg where am I going to retire!? (jk kinda). Especially in a country that truly takes things day-by-day this can be a serious challenge. Colombia has taught me to chill TF out and no one actually knows what they’re doing in life, we’re just good at faking it.

So yeah work. The expectations are higher than when I was studying abroad, okay yeah duh but that means fewer personal days for Sarita. My students are my motivation to go to work each day. Upon college graduation I did not know exactly what I wanted to do but I knew exactly what I did not want: 9-5 behind a desk. While I won’t (literally cannot) glamourize the sweaty bus ride to work each morning, I arrive each day greeted by brace-faced smiles and lots of laughter (probably laughing at my sunburn) but irregardless each day is different. The greatest part of my job is the opportunity to interact with my Colombian students during the week. While I may have the official “Professor de Inglés” title on my lanyard, I have learned an incredible amount from these hilarious teenagers. Best part of my experience here, hands down.

 

While I am contracted through an established program with support as needed, I feel much more on my own than when studying abroad. In Colombia it is “sink or swim.” While most learn to swim, mas o menos, the communication errors run high between locals and myself especially in a less-touristy (actually really not touristy at all) city like Cali. You truly are on your own here. That being said, the best part (okay there are like 17 best parts of my job, sorry) of this program are the fellow “Fellows” placed throughout the country with you. During orientation in January I met many others from around the world who came to Colombia through this program. Since Cali is such a large city (3 milli milli milli), there are around 50 English Teaching Fellows in the city with me. I have made lifelong friendships with Fellows from across the globe. It is so nice to have them around as we are all sharing a similar experience living and working outside of our home countries. I am very grateful for them. Me luv ya’ll long time.

You can truly do anything for a year. Like I said before a year is seeming shorter and shorter with each passing day. The United States is starting to feel more and more distant as a ”home-base,” which I do not think is necessarily a bad thing. I still feel pride for my country, except for this whole Trump candidacy/ his existence, but I cannot get enough of Latin America: the buena onda (good vibe), the distinct cultures, lovely language,  and the constant challenges.

Conclusion-

So I have been writing this post for a little while now; tweaking a little here, a little there. This is a topic I have wanted to write on for quite some time now because I think it is very important to explore and unfold some of the misconceptions concerning both methods of travel. Studying abroad was a truly transformative experience and expanded my horizons at a time where I could barely see past adding more clothes to my closet. The relationships I formed during the study abroad program led me to where I am today. Studying abroad was like an electric shock to my system, waking me up for the first time in years.

Colombia, mi tierra querida,  Colombia. As I sit here typing (hella hand cramp rn), I am full of nothing but gratitude and happiness. My experience working here has been quite different than Buenos Aires. I push myself on a more regular basis to speak Spanish, interact with locals, and say YES. The amount of personal growth experienced here is incredible and while I rarely say it, I am proud of myself.

Overall, I am extremely grateful to have both experiences and have learned oh so much during my varying times in each country. But once you start, you cannot stop. Traveling truly is a (healthy) addiction and I am hooked. I am the luckiest girl in the world and would not trade my travels for all the money in the world, however, if your pockets are feeling a little heavy I can give you my PayPal account information. In closing and perhaps the most important excerpt of today’s word vomit is I have learned that everyone travels differently, and that’s okay. For me the most important thing is that you get out there: for a long weekend, a week, a month or a year. Stepping out of your comfort zone is the hardest thing you’ll ever do but it is truly the best feeling ever. It will leave you wanting more, te lo juro. So mess up verb conjugations, accidently eat cow liver, ask someone if she’s pregnant instead of drunk (the Spanish words are REALLY similar); its all a part of the experience. Always remember, it’s okay to get lost for a little while.

on repeat this week:

Desde el día en Que te Fuiste (Version Reggaeton) – ChocQuibTown, Wisin 

To My Love – Bomba Estéreo

Bajo el Agua (Acústico) – Manuel Medrano ***I realize I have shared this Tune (capital T) before but hold the phone the acoustic version is straight fuego!!)

Also, since I am an effing pop princess, Biebs covered Drake’s One Dance.  You’re welcome.

besos-sarita ❤