Limey
Things are looking up since I last wrote. Mainly because we discovered motocarros! Indigenous to Soledad (they don't even cross into Barranquilla, probably because calle 30 is a crazy mess), these motorcycles with carts attached to the back of them are everywhere. I would say the main roads are trafficked by 40% diesel trucks, 30% motocarros and 30% other. The smoke spewing trucks are a lot bigger than the open air motocarros, and thus make for an interesting passenger experience: picture, for example, us three obvious girls packed into a little yellow shell attached to a motorcycle, breathing black smoke as we speed down cratered dirt roads against oncoming traffic! It's really fun.
Speeding by a hourse drawn carriage
Meanwhile, back at the homestead, there is a dog walking around who wears a necklace of limes. I know that sounds weird, but that's what it is. I'll try to take a picture of him as proof. We live in an oasis from the surrounding industrial park, in what seems to be a filled in swamp. On an income scale of 1-6 (that's how Colombia stratifies its society economically, with 6 being the richest), we are now living in "2" land, with a gate surrounding us to keep out "1". Honestly, I'd rather live outside of the gate. It's kind of boring in here! And our neighbors are a little nosey and really want to cook and clean for us. The asphalt in our conjunto is covered in flattened (four legged-phew!) frogs and policía muerta (speed bumps). There are also white snakes AND an alligator factory down the street (this I must investigate). The other night, I woke up to a foul smell. Who's been to Trinidad? Do you remember the smell that invades the car for a few minutes as you drive down the highway into town, by Sea Lots? THAT smell! So, that's too bad. Luckily, it seems to be a fleeting night visitor. During the day, the electric plant sometimes spews black smoke. At two o'clock on Wednesdays there is an evacuation drill. We are investigating possible health concerns and will be sure to move as soon as possible!
Villa Sofia, my lovely new neighborhood!
Work is the best possible situation and we've been welcomed very kindly: everyday, we're with the full-time professors here to develop a good curriculum (school was supposed to start this week, but it didn't for various reasons), and in the morning we hang out with María Inés, or "La Doctora", our jefa. Her father was a school-mate of Gabo (Gabriel García Márquez)! He has all of the first additions of GGM's books and is mentioned in his autobiography. María Inés said she'll introduce me to him.
Meanwhile, she's introduced us to everybody at this school. In her own words, we are adornments that she thinks will attract more people to learn English, so she kind of parades us around. We all pretend we don't speak any Spanish, which is especially funny in Marcela's case. Marcela is Panamanian-Salvadoran-American, and her "American accent" in Spanish is grosero ("Owh-laa"). But it seems to work...the only strange outcome is that for some reason some people may think we are Brazilian. Ha. I really truly don't know how that one got started.
Ok, I have to stop, because someone is talking to me and they don't care that I'm typing, so I guess I'll stop ;)
Yes, this is yet another view from my window
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