El Cocuy, Part I: Journalings

Returned to Bogotá this morning on an overnight bus. We weren't sure that we would be able to make it back from Güicán, the town where the trail ends. There is horrible flooding all over Colombia right now and many major roads have been damaged. Let's hope that the rainy season, or winter (invierno) as it is called here, is quieter than predicted.

While Jerry uploads our photos, I thought I'd give a preview of our trip in the form of some of my writings from the trip.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

We arrived yesterday to El Cocuy and registered with the National Parks Service, bought some last-minute supplies, and were on our way. We caught a ride to the farm of Miguel Herrera. He possibly has the best mustache I've ever seen. He also fits the stereotype of a Boyacense (note: Boyacá is the department, or state, that the park is located in) campesino - brownish/black hat, ruana, and extremely nice and polite. Andrés negotiated with Don Miguel for he and two horses to pick up our packs the following day and carry them to our next destination. After leaving Don Miguel's place, we walked about an hour and a half to the first campsite. It proceeded to rain while Jerry and I napped.

It rained the entire night - and, as it turns out - our tent is no longer really waterproof. Luckily, even though the entire tent was wet, our sleeping bags stayed (mostly) dry. Jerry is the best husband in the world - he let me have the best sleeping pad and sleeping bag. I guess we'll see if that continues (editor's note: he ended up with the good sleeping pad, I took the good sleeping bag. He's still the best husband in the world.)

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Today I heard a plane pass by overhead, and it seemed so out-of-place. Over the past two days, the only sounds that I've heard are the running streams, rain dropping on our tent, the occasional bird, and the voices of Jerry, Andrés, and Paula. Plus the sounds of zippers, the gas stove, waterfalls, footsteps, and most of all, my own breathing. This is hands-down the hardest thing I've done in my life. And the best part is that I've loved it - despite the fact that our tent isn't really waterproof, that my body aches (though not as much as I thought it would), that every time we go uphill I have to concentrate more than I ever have on breathing. Being able to see views that few have seen - these views are literally breathtaking. In one direction there is a steep, red canyon wall, in another a steep, green valley leading to the end of the world, and I am standing on a practically vertically cliff made of gray shale. My brain begins to doubt my eyes. You have to look quickly and stop to admire it while you can, because you can see the fog creeping in. But that, too, is amazing in itself - even though I curse the clouds for stealing my view - to watch the water take shape and gather together and climb towards us. We are so high, we have beaten the clouds, we are above them, they have to catch up (and they do).

This mornign we woke up to a clear, dawn view of a recent snow drift on the mountain next to our campsite. As the sun rose over the eastern mountains, this mountain northwest of us changed colors and seemed to change shape. We couldn't feel our toes. I asked Paula if this was the coldest she'd ever been in her life and she said yes.

I love that Jerry and I continually push each others' limits, we support each other to become better versions of ourselves.

But, at the end of the day, only I can put one foot i front of the other and get to the top of that pass. I am focused on that next step, that next breath, survival. No one can do that for me.

I love this feeling of accomplishment, unlike any I've felt before. I am my own refrigerator, my own transportation. I am my own mule (OK, Jerry carries the tent). I am seeing things that can only be seen by foot. No horse can go up 200 meters in altitude over gigantic boulders left behind by glaciers. No bike can traverse miles of going up and down cliffs. No car can cross a waterfall barefoot.

Yesterday, we saw the edge of the world. We saw where Laguna La Plaza funnels into a short waterfall and then empties down into a vast nothingness. And beyond the nothingness are more mountains and mist.

We collect our water from the streams, rivers, and waterfalls that form in the mountains, that melt from the glaciers and are fed by rain. I've never tasted fresher water (and no, we didn't use any water purification tablets). Every time we see a different glacier, my heart aches for our children who will probably never see one.

Jerry and I recall the geology we learned that first summer together, also in this tent. We point out the glacially-carved U-shaped valleys and the river-created V-shaped ones. We pass over granite and shale and see sandstone cliffs. Or so we think, and who is here to tell us otherwise?

The days are beginning to become routine. Wake up at 4:00am, pack up and eat, leave camp by 5:30 or so. Hike. Drink water. Hike. Eat trail mix. Hike. Take photos along the way. Feel like you can't continue. Continue anyway. Arrive at campsite by 12:00 or 1:00pm. Eat lunch. Rain. Nap. Talk with Jerry for hours. Rain. Asleep by 7:00pm. Repeat.

El Cocuy, the preview

A few months ago, our friends Andrés and Paula mentioned the idea of doing a 9-day hike through El Cocuy, a national park located about 12 hours from Bogotá high in the eastern range of the Andes (in Colombia, the Andes mountain range divides into 3 "fingers"). The last time I backpacked was almost 5 years ago in Peru for three or four days. Jerry has never backpacked. We will be carrying all of our food and camping gear for the whole trip. And we'll be hiking at over 4,000m (roughly 14,000 feet) the entire time. Needless to say, I'm a little nervous, but seeing the photos convinces me that this is an adventure worth doing. I'm looking forward to some quiet, beautiful vistas, and spending time with my husband and good friends. Not to mention, I'm excited about the challenge itself and the hot springs we'll reach at the end. And if I don't do something like this now, when will I?

We'll report back when we get back to Bogotá.

WANTED

Last seen on a bus to El Cocuy.

Mercy Corps debrief

Hey y'all,

Sorry it's been almost a month since our last post. I was busy with finally working a 9 to 5, Alice came to visit, Robin went to the U.S. for Carlyn's wedding, etc., etc. So, enough with the apologies, time to start with the updates.

The consulting gig with Mercy Corps went really well. It was interesting to work for an NGO after so much time with a defense contractor. Some differences: no worrying about classified material, actual field research before writing a proposal, much less of a focus on monitoring and evaluation, no psycho boss. Though I was expecting, it the thing that really struck me was the similarities. At the end of the day, it's the same 9 to 5 grind as any other job, with coworkers, bosses, a little kitchen, and, best of all, the commute. Fortunately, the work was interesting, and I got to learn a lot about a region of Colombia that we visited with Evan but barely explored, La Guajira. We'll definitely make it back before we leave Colombia, whenever that ends up happening.

At the end of the three weeks, I turned in a damn good proposal, turned in my computer, and said goodbye. It was fun while it lasted, but I won't lie and say that it wasn't nice to go back home, bake some bread, and make some dried mango and beef jerky in preparation of our trip to El Cocuy. Who knows, maybe they'll need some proposal writing support again soon and I'll be conscripted back into their ranks. Until then, it's back to teaching English.

P.S. Whoops, almost forgot. Haven't spent any of the money yet (haven't actually received it yet, either), but I think we're going to blow it on Lasik, the flights back to the U.S. in August, and a new computer.

Jobs

So, as Robin's already mentioned, we're teaching English now, about 15-20 hours a week. Unfortunately, if you factor in Bogotá traffic, the 7 AM start time, and the 8 PM end to the work day, the life of a mercenary English teacher in Bogotá doesn't seem quite so glamorous. Still, the schedule's flexible, the job's easy, and it pays a very good wage, relative to what most people make in Colombia.

Starting yesterday however, I've been taking a working sabbatical from my English-teaching sabbatical. Until the end of the month, I'm going to work as a peace profiteer and help the local Mercy Corps office write a State Department proposal. In addition to going back to regular 40-hour work weeks, I'm also making twice as much as I was teaching English. Cheers to having a little bit of extra spending money.

Speaking of, what should we do with these extra funds? Invest in an herbal Coca tea export company? Pay for Lasik eye surgery for Jerry? Have a second wedding because it was so much fun the first time?

Leave your suggestions in the comments...

Hat Shopping in Bogotá

As many of you already know, the hair on the top of my head is quickly disappearing - down drains, on pillow cases, on the shoulders of many shirts and blazers, etc. So long as my haircuts only cost $2, I'm OK with postponing the inevitable permanent buzzing of my hair. However, when that day does come, I'm going to have to start investing in some head coverings. Fortunately, quality hats in Bogotá are much cheaper than in the United States - everything from berets (the normal kind, not the velour ones with crazy stripes and pins), straw hats, fedoras, and beautiful "Colombia es Pasión" visors.

Here's a picture of my lovely wife demoing the visor:

And another of my Dad, looking like a badass:

In any case, if you have any suggestions of what might look good on me (you can use the picture below if you'd like to have me virtually model any styles), leave it in the comments.

Stay tuned for updates.

Mind the gap

As I believe we've mentioned, Jerry and I have started teaching English to sustain our life here in Bogotá. Between the two of us teaching roughly 20-25 hours per week, we make enough to live off of. We work for a language institute that has contracts with businesses and individuals. We generally teach in the mornings before people go to work (starting between 6:30-7:30am) and sometimes during people's lunch breaks or after work as well. Though waking up early has been an adjustment after our several months of sabbatical, it is wonderful to be home by 9:00 or 10:00am with the whole day ahead of us and with some money-making hours already under our belts.

Most of my students are "intermediate," meaning that they have a grammatical and vocabulary base in English, but don't always know how to express themselves and don't understand everything I say. They often understand almost everything in written form, but the same sentence spoken aloud is incomprehensible. So, I have been working a lot on listening - me talking or reading an article aloud, or watching a TED Talk or other video together - and then making sure that the student understands what's going on. This usually leads into a discussion so the student also works on speaking and building up their confidence in English, which I have found to be one of the most important things that we work on in class.

But Ivan falls squarely into the "beginner" category; I am Ivan's first English teacher. He works for Colombia's equivalent of the Small Business Administration (Patricio, I feel like you especially will appreciate that) and aspires to become the head of the organization one day. Of course, part of the job description is fluency, or at least competency, in English. That's where I enter the picture.

And then there is Sebastián, the 12-year-old grandson of Luis (who Pat talks about in the previous post). I helped him with his English homework a couple of times, which he has been taking in school for a year or two.

The learning gap between a 40-something highly educated man and a 12-year-old public school educated boy was staggering. Sure, theoretically young people pick up languages more quickly - but from my limited exposure to these two people from very different parts of Colombian society, it would be much easier for Ivan to reach a passable level of English.

Though Ivan's grammatical and vocabulary base in English is limited, he has been exposed to English - he has traveled to the US, he has surely interacted with foreign businesspeople. Not to mention which, he has learned how to learn. When I say, "this is an adjective" or "this word can be both a verb and a noun" or if I speak slowly in simple terms, he understands.

Sebastián, on the other hand, had a homework assignment to write 10 English adjectives. Well, he wrote the first 8, copying them from a page out of his workbook. I made him pronounce the words with me and ensured that he understood what he was saying. When I asked him to write two more adjectives, I quickly realized that he had no idea what an adjective was. Which led me to explain the concept of nouns, verbs, and adjectives. He has never been taught how to learn or think critically; he has only been taught to complete the pages in his workbook and do what he is told. On top of this, he doesn't understand a single word I say in English because in school, this is how the typical English class goes:

Teacher: "Good morning, class." (with heavy Colombian-accented English)

Students: "Good morning, teacher."

Teacher: "How are you?"
Students: "Fine, thank you. How are you?"

Teacher: "Fine. Ahora, por favor miren la página 16 y hagan los ejercicios." (Now, please turn to page 16 and do the exercises.)

Colombians are required to learn English. However, the average public school student in Colombia does not learn English from anyone with a base knowledge of the language, but rather goes through rote motions of completing written exercises without actually absorbing anything.

So for now, I am making a living off of people like Ivan. I have offered to give Sebastián free English lessons as long as his family brings him to our apartment. The family seemed excited and understands that it's important. But, like many situations in Colombia, people often say they will call and do things and then it never happens. We shall see.