Arriba, abajo

We came to Colombia to perfect our Spanish. Here we are, over a year and a half later, and Spanish is so natural now that it's hard to remember a time when I didn't feel totally comfortable in the language. I went to the U.S. for a couple of weeks in April, and after just a few days away from Bogotá, I was dying to speak some español.


Yet, because it isn't my native language, I am constantly analyzing the words I speak and hear every day. As a geographer who thought about majoring in linguistics, I love finding the overlap. My favorite example here in Bogotá is when giving directions. The mountains are on the eastern side of the city, with the city sloping down towards the west and leveling out to a fairly flat valley. 

Monserrate and the other mountains to the east

When you ask a rolo or rola (local slang for someone from Bogotá) how to get from point A to point B, they often explain that a certain spot is arriba (up/above) or abajo (below) another landmark or street instead of using "east" or "west." At first, I had no idea what the hell they were talking about, until one day it dawned on me – they're referencing the mountains! Arriba means it's closer to the mountains, while abajo means it's away from the mountains. Though this isn't the same as the Guugu Yimithirr, it's fascinating how the local geography is deeply embedded in the language. I now use arriba and abajo daily without thinking about it.


While living abroad you constantly have to challenge your cultural assumptions and your comfort zone when it comes to language. At the office, one of my interns consistently refers to me as Ud. or Sumercé (an even more formal version of Ud., you, from a certain part of Colombia, Boyacá). Every time she says it, I cringe a little bit inside. I've thought about asking her to tutearme – refer to me with the more informal tú – but then I remember that she uses that convention because it makes her feel comfortable and I just need to get over myself.


Speaking two languages every day makes my brain work harder. Spanish is a part of who I am, and whenever we do go back to the U.S., I've got to find a way to keep it in my life.

Getting better all the time...

November???!!! Really? I apologize. Robin and I have really been slacking.

Coincidentally, November was when I got my job. That's right: for those of you who don't already know, both Tolochkos are currently gainfully employed. Robin at the Colombian think tank CEELAT as the head of their new mapping and data visualization laboratory, and myself as the Colombia country manager for Leonie, an American communications company. Who would have thought that quitting our jobs in DC and moving to a country that we had never visited before and where we knew no one would end up being the greatest career move we'd ever made? Life is GOOD.

The holidays were mostly uneventful, except that we were blessed with AMAZING weather and visits from our friends Stephan, Ben, and Angela, and Robin's cousin, Lauren. Next year though, we're going to get the hell out of Bogotá and take advantage of the country shutting down for a month to do some traveling.

2012 is shaping up to be a pretty amazing year. On top of the new jobs, Robin and I have finally gotten our act together and decided to start up our leather exporting company, Restrepo Leather. Now when I say that we're going to have a website and Etsy store up by the end of March, I actually mean it. We've hired someone to run the day-to-day operations of the company. This is really, truly happening.

In other news, my project at work should finally launch within the month, and our House Hunters International episode is scheduled to air on March 6. Feel free to join us in Bogotá for a viewing party.

Sí, soy gringa

I can't count the number of times I have had this conversation:

Cab driver: Where are you from?

Me: The United States.

C.D.: Really? You don't look like you're from the States.

Me: Yeah, we're not all tall, blonde, and fat.

You would be amazed by how many people here honestly believe that all Americans fit the above description (or at least the tall and blonde part). I love educating Colombians by explaining that one of my favorite aspects of American culture is that we are a mix of all types of people. That continues to be a reason why I want to ultimately live in the U.S.

Home.

This idea doesn't exist in the Spanish language. You could use the word hogar, but it's not quite the same.

Home is a concept that I have grappled with over the past few years. Atlanta stopped feeling like home as soon as I left it (caveat: my parents' house and neighborhood still feel like home, but in a different way). I suppose that Athens felt like home, though I don't have memories of actively thinking about it as such. And D.C. immediately felt like home for some inexplicable reason. But Bogotá - well, it took a while.

Perhaps it was because we came here with no plan in mind - no end date, no friends, no jobs, no sense of belonging. We came more for the language and the experience rather than the place. There are things that I actively dislike about where I currently live: the pollution, the traffic, the rain. Many times over the past year or so, I wondered if I would ever come to think of Bogotá as home. I couldn't accept it - part of me always saw home as describing a place that you could see yourself living in for a long time, or coming back to. Having an indescribable emotional connection to a place. Though I have enjoyed all of our time here, I didn't feel any sentimentality about this place.

Until I just came back from a two-and-a-half-week trip to the U.S.

Arriving in the Bogotá Eldorado airport felt like coming home. Taking the taxi cab to my place, laughing at the forever under-construction road. I walked up to my apartment to discover that my roommates had accidentally locked me out and I would need to find another place to sleep that night.

Walking down the street to figure out what I was going to do, I passed by Juancho's apartment. I knocked on the window and he let me in. And that's when I realized - this city is my home. I could walk down the street, knock on a door, and feel completely at ease.

Riding the bus down the Séptima yesterday, I felt sentimental. This city has its problems, but they're my problems. I can hate on it, but if someone not from Bogotá starts to hate on my city, I will get pretty upset. I'm more interested to see what Bogotá's mayor-elect does with his position than Atlanta's or D.C.'s mayors. I'm worried about the construction near our house and how it will affect my commute. I'm going out for a friend's birthday on Friday. Nothing has actually changed from before I went to the U.S. until now other than my perspective.

I realized that "home" doesn't have to be something permanent or long-term. I don't plan on or want to live in Bogotá forever. I don't see us moving back here in the future after we ultimately move away. But right now, this is where I belong.

Reality TV stars

It's been Facebook-official for a while now, but I realized that we still had yet to write a blogpost about it: Robin and I are going to be on TV. Specifically, an episode of HGTV's House Hunters International is going to feature US in Bogotá. Apparently our lives are just so cool that couldn't help but have an episode about us (that and the fact that are apartment's amazing). I'm going to write a bit about the filming process, which is going to take place over the next month, but I first want to send out a SPOILER ALERT for those of you who still believe in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and reality television.

The show is flying us to Atlanta to film the "before" section of the episode. Robin's already in the 'States, and I fly in this Wednesday. Please send me an email if you'd like to get together. A couple weeks after filming in the U.S., their film crew is coming to Colombia to recreate our apartment-searching process. For those of you who live in Bogotá, that 3-day filming schedule includes a Sunday afternoon (Dec. 4) dinner party at our apartment. I haven't yet decided what to cook, but I'm thinking leg of lamb will definitely be on the menu.

Lastly, I have a favor to ask y'all: in all likelihood, the episode will not air in Colombia for several years. Thus we would really appreciate it if one of our technically-savvy readers could find a way to record and dropbox us a copy of the episode.

Book of Life

Throughout the course of Yom Kippur, we repeat ten times this confession of a series of sins. It is a powerful prayer; each time you recite a sin, you beat your hand on your chest. There are a lot of sins on the list, but here are a few:

For the sin which we have committed before You by hard-heartedness.

For the sin which we have committed before You under duress or willingly.

For the sin which we have committed before You knowingly or unknowingly.

And for the sin which we have committed before You with a timid heart.

The rabbi's sermon last night on Kol Nidre (the holiest night of the Jewish calendar, the night of Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement) focused on the last line, the last of the series of sins. He talked about the true meaning of courage - which does not mean lack of fear but rather not letting your fears get in the way of doing what you want to do or being yourself. "Don't let other people's opinions control who you are," he said. And so, I listened.

Today, I wore my tallit to services. What's funny is that simply being myself in the synagogue is, in itself, an act of subversion. I've covered this theme before. Except last night, listening to that sermon, I came to a different conclusion. I decided that I was not going to let other people decide for me who I will be. I will be myself. I will not be dogmatic in my views, nor will I let others' dogma determine my behavior.

And you know what? No one said anything to me. No one walked out of services because of me (that I know of).

Of course, this all isn't really fair. I'm clearly gringa and I clearly would use that to my advantage if anyone approached me about it. Yes, well, this is the tallit from my Bat Mitzvah. I was raised in a Jewish community that allows women to wear tallit and I am following the Jewish traditions that I was raised with. Colombian women would not have it so easy. But that's another issue. I can be myself. And I should not let timidity of the heart get in the way of that.

And today we both fasted. For the first time in... well, who knows, if ever. And we went to services all day. I'm talking about allllll day, minus a 2-hour break between Musaf and Mincha when we went and sat in a park. It felt surprisingly good, and not as hard to fast when you're not at home tempted by what's in the cupboard. I feel fresh and ready to start this year at full-speed.

We broke the fast at the house of some new friends. Most of the people there are in the current conversion class. They were all so warm and insightful and open and of all ages. Two of the guys realized that they are second cousins, and we all watched in wonder as they exchanged family stories. Today was full of community, the thing that I have most missed in Bogotá.

I don't remember the last time Yom Kippur was this meaningful.

L'shana tova u'metuka

Looking back on this past Jewish year, I couldn't be any more pleased with where we are now. We moved to Colombia a little more than a year ago with nothing but each other, our savings, and a Google Doc of about 20 people we should call when we got here. We spent last Rosh Hashanah mostly to ourselves, attempting to go to the Orthodox synagogue here while feeling completely detached from that community (read: mehitzas make me really uncomfortable). This year, we spent the first night of Rosh Hashanah dinner with some good friends (not Jewish) at our apartment and the second night at the house of some other good friends (Jewish). Sometimes I get sad or nostalgic about living far away from my dearest friends, and then I remember that we really do have communities here. We have built something from nothing, and that is something I will take with me wherever we go. Not to mention which, our relationship with each other has grown - the only downside being: what we will do when both of us have full-time jobs that don't have flexible hours and we can't spend hours just hanging out?

First night of Rosh Hashanah with our round challahs!

Much has happened this year - our nephew, Davis, was born on Rosh Hashanah to usher in a great 5771. Jerry and I both became completely fluent in Spanish. We backpacked for 7 days. We went to Ecuador and traveled around Colombia. We started doing yoga regularly. Lots of wonderful people came to visit us. Jerry fell in love with his new hobby, marroquinería - leather-working. I got a ridiculously awesome job and for the past month, I have been making maps (links to come once I have something up on the internet).

Hiking at El Cocuy National Park

In the coming year, I'd like take more weekend trips. I'd like to dive head-first into my new job, let go of my fear of making mistakes and just learn. I'd like to deepen my friendships here and keep in better touch with people who I am not geographically near. I'd like to do more yoga and ride my bike more. I'd like to spend more time out on our terrace. I'd like to live more intentionally.

Yoga on the roof.

To all a healthy, wonderful 5772.