My work has dance classes twice a week. After hours, we get together , six or so women with an instructor and dance for an hour and a half. Salsa, bachata, cha-cha-cha. We warm up doing aerobics moves that remind me of my mom’s classes at the Y, where I tend to fall off the plastic step thinger right in the middle of choreographed dance moves. Vine step to the right, now lift and back. The windows fog from all the sweating and moving in a little space.
Guess who drew the faces.
It makes me think of 80s clothes and Madonna headsets. We have complicated feet AND arm movements and lots of me jumping, taking wide steps, looking like a giraffe. I am (unintentionally?) the class clown. I am excited to learn, momentarily discouraged, eager to show the instructor that I am slightly less left-footed as the rest of Gringolandia. So far I am not having much luck, though I persist in the effort.
This week only three of us could be there, so I suggested we learn something complicated to make the other classmates regret not prioritizing our dance class. Our ever-obliging instructor taught us some fancy cha-cha-cha moves. Here is how we looked after an hour:
My coworkers heard I was looking for a dentist(1), and brought me to three. They didn’t just give me the number for their dentists, but called and scheduled an appointment for me, accompanied me there, asked about the price (2) before I could.
The first one talked at length about his appreciation for public health (3), his client who works for an important organization, offered to pass along my CV. I was diagnosed with 9 cavities and quoted $2,800,000 COL (about $1,400 USD). I left with free toothpaste and qualms about the cost of medical tourism.
I can has freedom from cavities?
The second one didn’t use gloves, was rushed, and decidedly against electric toothbrushes. “I say, bring it on vacation so people can hear you using it and think, wow, she has an electric toothbrush.” Two cavities were diagnosed at $200,000 COL (about $100 USD) for fillings.
The third one was a Russophile, named every friend who had studied in Russia, told me every Russian word he knew. Turns out I brush my teeth all wrong. Now I have to brush down from my gums on the top teeth and up from my gums on the bottom teeth, so my gums stop receding. Stick around, gums! Two cavities were diagnosed, and it’d cost $260,000 COL (about $130 USD) to fix ‘em. I got a new toothbrush and toothpaste to take home.
All three dentists handed me a little mirror to see each cavity as they poked around my mouth. Felt less like highway robbery that way.
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(1) I haven’t been to the dentist in about 2 years, due to bureaucratic headaches. I’ve had teeth drilled without anesthesia, chipped my front tooth while biting a swimming poll and had a crown fall out while eating breakfast. Genes and a love of sweets is to blame, though for someone with such “bad teeth” I take good care of my pearly whites. Getting an electric toothbrush for Christmas last year was the highlight of the holiday.
(2) When I lived in Boston, I went to a fancy Pankey dentist, who had free toothpaste samples and the latest equipment (tongue cancer detector machine?). When my insurance ran out, so did she. Out of the room, in the middle of me saying, “I know I need a new crown, but I’ve used up my dental insurance allotment and can’t pay what you’re charging…”
(3) Then, I went to Tufts Dental Clinic where I had the most amazing dentist from the Midwest, with gentle hands and the bluest eyes. He used to smile so big when talking about his wife. He ‘d personally remind everyone about appointments, gave us his cell phone number. It was a sad day when he graduated and moved far away.
I didn’t sleep well the night before. It felt like Christmas. I had gone over the focus group guide with my local version of Linda Cushman three times. We were playing with the order of the questions, the wording, the probes. Key stakeholders had reviewed the guide, suggested edits, reworded questions. I reviewed my Research Design and Data Collection class notes.
Take a seat wherever you’d like.
2. Check, double check
The table was set with pencils, paper, and name tags. I had my consent forms, focus group guide, and pen. The two digital records had fresh batteries and had been checked. The large butcher paper and markers were at the ready. The corner table had drinking water and glasses. My assistant had been prepped.
I was ready.
This is me looking ready.
3. Breathe
It was 3 pm. Then 3:05. I started fiddling with the chairs, nametags, recorders. I went to ask the front desk if my participants had arrived, if they were in that day, if we could call them.
4. Send Reminders
At 3:10, four out of six had arrived. The other two weren’t available. We went on without them. Sometimes I was flustered, awkward, spoke too fast. Overall, it was okay. We laughed. We understood each other. It felt like teaching, like presenting, like interviewing. All these things I like to do mixed together.
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I tried writing a post before having my first focus group, but all I got was: OMGz sdkjfer029irflkdjlfkjslkfj. Really. That incomprehensible onomatopoeic string was the entire post.
Last week I went to the Museo National with my coworker and her daughter. It’s within walking distance from work, and we spent the afternoon looking at paintings, talking about colonization and searching for dessert. Here’s a sample of the art from the FEMSA exposition, with art from 11 Latin American countries:
Forgive the blurriness – though I think it makes the painting look even more magical, dream-like. This was one of my favorites in the collection, a woman feeding the moon spoonfuls of stars.
My coworker’s daughter told us that Tamayo always has watermelons in his paintings. I am nostalgic for New York, for the pulse of the city, the subways, the magic of rooftops at night.
I love the simultaneous simplicity and complexity of this painting, how the cotton handkerchief is so life-like, and the window is waiting to be filled. I love how the painting looks done and unfinished.
Brought from the old world, found in the new world
Exploring the rest of the museum, we talked about the violence of history, the mixture of European, African and indigenous peoples in Colombia. I vaguely remembered my Latin American Social History class in the Dominican Republic, the professor asking us to answer Hacia donde va American Latina? for our final essay.
Crepes & Waffles for dinner
After dinner, they accompanied me to take money out of the bank and to buy the essentials at the grocery store: cheese, tomato sauce, Nutella. That’s how things are done here: in groups, together.
It’s one techy step up from using your phone to scan your boarding pass bar code at airports. Feels like the future!
2. My favorite bookmarking site, delicious, is making a comebackthanks to the Youtube nerds. Get ready to take your favorite sites with you anywhere there’s an internet connection. It’s like hoarding old papers and organizing closets, but for websites.
3. Coming to the US 20 years ago, I didn’t know any English and was put into regular classes. This was considered pretty normal. When a NYT journalist does the same thing with his family (albeit in a small, private, progressive school rather than a large, public school), it’s news. I enjoyed the article. It’s the closest description I’ve seen to what my experience was like when I learned English. And the riddle examples given in the article are prime examples of Russian charm and chicanery.
4. Routine STI screening is essential for everyone, even those who report being abstinent. A recent Pediatrics article reports that 10% of study participants who tested positive for a sexually transmitted infection reporting not having had sex. Hmmm…
5. Russian scientists rescue a dejected baby seal from a life of bullying.
I love your red fur and blue eyes, baby seal LiLo!
I hope he can move to San Francisco when he grows up.
That’s all folks! Back to regularly scheduled Colombia programming later this week.
Following the feedback on my previous post on interesting, unusual, unexpected Colombianisms, I’m sending out a round two.
You may have heard of this unexpectedly delicious mix: hot chocolate and cheese. It’s technically called Chocolate Santafereño, and you put the cheese inside the hot chocolate. It adds a slightly salty flavor. And then you eat all the pieces of cheese once you’re done with the hot chocolate. (I did it wrong and tried to leave some cheese behind. My coworker stood over me while I ate them all.)
Snacks at work.
I had to get passport photos for my visa renewal. The guy next to me was wearing a polo shirt when he went into the booth to get his photos taken. Yet, when they’re printed, the photos have him wearing a suite and tie. Magic.
Pick the shirt and tie you would have worn!
Here are the women’s options, on the computer screen:
Just insert your head!
Juice comes in a bag, which you put in a plastic holder that goes in the fridge. The empty juice bag takes up less room in the trash, and the plastic holder can be reused an infinite amount of times. Genius!
It’s my juice in a bag.
Lastly, I was going to write about hand soap that turned out to be clothing spray (like bathroom spray, for your clothes). Then I realized that we already have that in the US – Febreeze. I had wanted to buy liquid soap for the Nunnery bathroom, and instead brought home clothing spray. Colombia supermarket: 1. KDV: 0.
With talk of a burstingeducation bubble* and the ongoing protestsabouteducationin Chile, I’ve been thinking of the advice I wish I had received before applying to college, what I wish I had known going in. It’s an open secret that I miss teaching, that talking with teenagers about health for two years was a dream job. I wish I had had more time with them, especially to talk about college.
Dreamboat young Matt Damon explains.
You might not have to go to college.
I know, you’ve been told your wholelife that college is the most important thing ever. Take some time to think long and hard about what you want to do. Do you want to work with your hands, be an artist, computer programmer, entrepreneur? You can learn those things without paying $12,804- $32,184 a year.
If you don’t have money (you probably don’t), go for free.
Avoid debt asmuch as possible. Go for free. Or as close to free as possible. Go to a state school, get a scholarship, start saving money now. Ask your family if they’ve been saving for your education.
If you have money, go somewhere known.
College is about who you’re meeting – the professors and students who will help you get a job later. Don’t go somewhere completely unknown. You’ll spend your job interviews legitimizing your school and convincing people that it’s a real place.
If you have family abroad, go to school abroad.
It’s not only less expensive, but the language skills you’ll gain will help you get in the door. Then you can explain your amazing, high-quality, low-price experience. If you want to work internationally, or with international populations, going to school abroad is an option to look into.
Get a job.
Something related to what you want to do after graduation. Anything that will earn you some money, experience, something to put on your resume. Work every summer, whether at a camp or at your family’s business. Save the money you earn – pretend it’s an unpaid internship. Learn something useful: another language, how to talk to people who are upset, basic accounting, Office programs. Not having any work experience when you leave college is the best way to stay jobless for months, years. Why go into debt if you’re just going to sit on the couch after graduation?
Focus on skills.
The college degree is the new high school degree, and a Mastersis the new BA. Your fancy piece of paper doesn’t automatically get you a good job. You can learn about other people’s opinions by going to the library and attending free lectures. Learn how to do things, and people will hire you to do them. Few jobs involve bloviating or pontificating. If you want to do that, get a soapbox, start a band, get a blog.
You’re in college to learn things you can’t anywhere else. Make it a worthwhile.
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*This morning I was explaining how expensive US education is, how we are all in debt. The person I was talking with said: “We usually have some extra soup left over at the end of the day. I’ll save some for you so you can bring it home.”
We went to a Soundsof America presentation at the Universidad de los Andes. One of my coworker’s son’s friends was playing music. The presentation was a mix of anthropology, history and music. We watched quick videos explaining the connection between sound making devices in Mexico and Argentina. Fascinating musical instruments that looked like three, sometimes four flutes stuck together, water-filed instruments making tea-kettle sounds, a condor‘s feather.
One of the presenters had the most divine Argentineaccent, one of my favorite versions of Spanish.It sounds like bees buzzing, a bicycle wheel on wet pavement, filled with the Russian letter Ж. I could listen to someone speaking Argentine Spanish all day, on any topic.
On the way home, I bought a fake leather jacket, a la Trinity or Michael Jackson or an 80s biker gang. For $15. I have been looking for one for over a year. I wear it almost every day.
Living half a block away from work certainly has its benefits: a 2 minute commute, no transportation costs, being able to run home for an ice cream snack, to grab lunch money, to grab a computer cable right before my laptop dies during a Key Informant Interview. Not my smoothest or most professional moment – leaving people reading the consent form while I ran up and down six flights of stairs – but I have never been so grateful to live at The Nunnery.
Recently, my landlord knocked on my door at 6:00 am – on the one day I was sleeping in – to say (with some understandable annoyance) that someone from work was waiting for me downstairs. I got groggily dressed and walked outside. The Director of Services didn’t have keys for her office, and could I hand over the ones I had? In some ways, I was grateful. I was in the midst of a strange dream.
I’ve read that short commutes make for more happiness. The short commute also means I am always within earshot of the neighborhood, and can’t escape the outdoor rock concert at the school across the street, or the marching band practicing in the middle of the street.
It felt like a big deal. Back then, I thought I’d be including a videowitheverypost. I thought I’d be writing in-depth, critical analysis, biting commentary, Important Things. Instead I’ve written about toilet paper and threadbare leggings.
It’s a little creepy having all this information, knowing so much about my blog’s visitors. But it’s nice to be acknowledged, right? I appreciate y’all sticking around and reading.
So, ever-patient reader, What would you change? What do you want to read about in the next month?
Guess who drew the faces.
Snacks at work.
