Montazuma’s Revenge

To preface this entry I want to say that it is graphic, disturbing, disgusting, decrepid, depraved, and heavily, well exclusively centered on poop.  Upon further reflection this is in no way an appropriate thing to post most anywhere, but it’s hitting the internet anyways.  You have been warned.

So while this is not a true case of Montazuma’s revenge, it still wasn’t fun and I will now describe to you all my horrible poop from this morning.  So this morning at something like 430 or 5 I woke myself up with a thunderous fart.  It was awesome, I was proud, and I smiled.  Fun was had by all.  However, after falling back asleep content with how my day had started my tummy got a rumbly and tumbly and I remember thinking that I would love to rip another one of those bad boys in order to relieve the growing pressures in my GI tract.  However, it would just not come and I knew that I was in for a bad ride.  The gravity of the situation became apparent when the scent of scrambling eggs and roasting arepas wafted into my room and I woke up slightly nauseous instead of mildly euphoric as I usually do.  My alarm clock conveniently went off just a minute or two after I woke up, so I said screw it, lets get ready for battle.  I proceed to strip to my skinnies, wrap a towel around my waist and I soldier off to the bathroom for what was surely to be the Ragnarok of all poops.  As soon as I step out of my room I make eye contact with Miriam, my host mother, who also happens to be dressed in her bathrobe and towel and probably thinking relatively similar, albeit less intense, thoughts to what was going through my head at that point.  With due courtesy I offer to let her have the shower first, but whether or not she knew it the bathroom was mine.  She could have it first if and only if she was willing to step over my dead body to get there.  But of course she politely declines and retreats back into her room and I step in for the first and round of the boxing match.  I drop the towel and I readied myself for the struggle to come, naked as the moment I was born.

            So here I am, nestled on the porcelain throne, elbows on my knees, head in my hands, waiting for the violence to come.  But strangely it doesn’t.  It’s strange but not unheard of.  We’ve all had ghost poops before where you’re convinced the apocalypse is coming, but all get is a little toot out of the ‘ol trouser trumpet, but I’m not even getting that.  The worst part is that my gut sounds like there’s a fish periodically having seizures in a shallow pool and the pressure is building, so I’m praying something is going to happen.  Strangely no serious nausea though, that was cool.  But then it happened.  All of a sudden gurgglies that were up in my stomach just under my ribs suddenly shot down into my colon and then it came out.  A perfectly normal poop, neither longer nor girthier than the average and to be honest I was pretty disheartened by the tranquility of the situation.  I did feel a lot better, but sad at the distinct anticlimax.  I sit there for a moment and then prepare to pack up, hosting in my heart the same feeling disappointment and let down that Ron Jeremy must have felt when he saw Zach and Miri Make a Porno.  Then as I am reaching for the TP the girglies come back full force.  And the rumblies.  And the tumblies.  Even the heebies and the jeebies.  And the next thing I know I am peeing out of my butthole and it’s just a fucking mess.  The worst part is that I go for a courtesy flush about 5 minutes into the onslaught I am not at all surprised to see that the flusher ma bob is broken and that the bucket full of water sitting idly by my feet does in fact have a purpose.  The weird thing is that it doesn’t even hurt.  No burning or cramping or anything like that.  I found myself strangely relaxed and pondering how this starkly contrasted my poop from yesterday, which I was convinced was a watermelon doing its best to shatter my tailbone.  If that’s not the juxtaposition of antitheses I don’t know what is.  Anyways, that sucked.  And when I was all done 15ish minutes later I felt dirty, tired, slightly violated and more than a little betrayed.  The worst part was solemnly pouring bucket after bucket of water into the toilet bowl to hide the evidence of my shameful excursion.  Well, the visible evidence.  My skillful planning of this event meant that I was ready for a shower and once I was out and clean, I actually felt pretty ok, but real tired so I proceeded to say fuck it, I’m taking a 630 am nap.  And that’s the story of why I missed the first hour of school today.  Morally I was slightly distressed, though, because Miriam ended up taking that shower right after despite the warning signs which set her mother’s instincts a tingling with an immediate understanding of what had just happened.  The end. Poop is funny, and if you didn’t at least chuckle at this story, then I don’t think that we can be friends.  THE the end.  Oh, and I guess that I was pretty much better by the early afternoon, so it doesn’t truly count as Montezuma’s revenge, but it’s a catchy title.  THE THE end.

UPDATE:

            Nope, totally got the revenge.  Got to school this morning and I felt pretty funky.  I decided that I was too sick to stay and I expertly exited the building, and good thing too, cuz within two minutes of leaving I was violently booting on the side of the street.  And when I got back I had another bout of the ‘ol liqui-poo.  That would have been a story if I had let loose in the middle of class, though.  Anyways, whomever I tell my symptoms to has said, “oh you have the amoebas”, so I guess that it’s a pretty common thing.  I probably will not be drinking water straight from the tap from here on out, but then again that’s also probably a lie.  I just went to the pharmacy and described my symptoms to the pharmacist and I got a resounding, “ah, las amoebas” and for the whopping cost of 3 mil pesos (1.65ish American) I got a two day course of tinidazol, which should clear me right up.  Gotta love that dirty water.  THE THE END.   I hope…

Food for Thought

            So because I am a gringo trying to integrate myself into the Pueblo Rican community, my stay has been injected with some rather strange and unexpected, um things.  Sorry, I cant think of a better word and I don’t really feel like breaking my back to make this a supreme piece of literature cuz I ain’t getting no Pulitzer for this anyways.  Moving forward, the one I am the least comfortable with is an elevated amount of police involvement that I now have in my life.  Basically I was informed when I got to Colombia that it was a good idea for me to acquaint myself with the local authorities so that they know I am around and so I know who I need to look for incase shit hits the fan.  Now this is totally fair and reasonable by any and every means I can imagine.  However, today I had my third meeting with the police concerning my safety and such and I was informed that they will be checking in with me every three days and that I need to inform them when I am coming and going from Pueblo Rico.  I even have my own personal security officer who I am to call if I ever feel unsafe.  Oh, they also took a couple of photos of me for the record books.  You know, to show people when I get kidnapped or whatever.  I was also given a list of activities to avoid, such as staying away from crowds, keeping my schedule unpredictable, avoid talking to strangers, and keeping my eyes open for suspicious vehicles.  Basically I am supposed to be on guard at all times.  All of this makes sense I suppose, as every time that I tell someone that I work in Pueblo Rico they tell me to be careful of the guerillas.  Now I have been thinking about it and I can’t imagine the shit storm that would happen here if something happened to the volunteer gringo, who is here to improve the lives and future of the town’s children.  For that reason I totally understand the erring on the side of caution and I am truly grateful that they are putting forward all of this effort into keeping me safe.  I am not even saying that to sound PC.  I do feel much safer knowing that they actively taking measure to make my stay more comfortable.  However, it is feeling a little bit house arresty for my taste, if you know what I am saying.  I have never really been the type to do this type of reporting in and checking up as it kind of cramps my whole “I go where the wind blows” philosophy of life, but it made me ponder a great many things.  Oh and to preface this I literally just read the US Constitution for shits and giggles.  Like last week.  I’m pretty sure that it was the first time since 8^th grade or something, but its an interesting read and I’m going to go ahead and assume that you all are just like me and that y’all haven’t skimmed through it in, oh ever?  Too much sass?  Sorry, anyways, as Americans its actually something we should be strongly familiar with. But the point of all this is to ask you a question that this combination of things has got me thinking about: what is freedom?  I sure as hell don’t have a perfect answer and I’m pretty sure that you all will have pretty drastically different things to say on the subject too.  So the better question is what is freedom to you?  Now think about your answer, think about what it may mean to someone else, empathize with them enough to understand what they’re doing with their lives, give ‘em a hug and say “That’s cool with me, bro”.  Peterfreund 2028.  Buy yo pins, y’all.

School, the actual reason that I’m here, or whatever:

            Man where do I start.  Well here goes.  High school.  You know, that super angsty time in our lives when we were swimming in the hormones of puberty (well some of us) and taking a first stab at taking a stab at figuring out who we are and what were about in this crazy world of ours.  And guess what, it’s the exact same here.  I know I shouldn’t have expected otherwise, but it unbelievable just how exactly the same everything is here.  There are the pretty girls, the jocks, the nerds, the weird kids, and the beautiful everything that happens in between.  Back in the day I was very far from the top of the social food chain so I can empathize with the vast majority of the students and what they are going through.  And to be honest back in the day really wasn’t even that long ago.

            So my job here is basically to be a cultural liaison to the kids, I’m pretty sure that I’ve mentioned that at some point.  Anyways, for the main idea is that I am not actually a teacher and as such I spend the majority of my time sitting in class observing and whenever the teacher wants me to work on pronunciation with the kids I am called into action.  Now even though I am not the primary teacher I do find myself in charge of the kids quite often inone of the teacher’s class, who I will surely discuss with all of you at some point.  I’ll talk about discipline in a second, but I will mention that I spend a good chunk of energy trying to get the kids to remain calm.  Anyways, I am in class either 4 or 6 hours a day, depending on my schedule.  This takes me basically from 7am to 130pm.  After that I am beat.  Like seriously tired.  I feel like a wimp, but this stuff is draining.  Then I go home to my angel of a host mother, who I will rave about at some point in the near future, and I eat lunch and then take a cat nap.  I’m trying pretty hard to cut the nap out of the regimen, but it just feels soooooooo damn good.  Anyways, up till now I have been teaching the English professors from 3-5 pm, which I will likewise discuss further in the future, because it is a rather interesting situation if I do say so myself.  And sometimes I hit the soccer pitch and get played the fool.  However, today I started this club, which is also part of my job description and that will last either from 3-4 or 3-5.  Twill be determined later, and then I teach the professors for 2 hours.  So no matter which way you cut it I got some pretty impressively long days, by my standards at the very least.

I really like the kids here.  They’re all very curious and fun loving and to be honest I have yet to find a true bad egg in the bunch.  However, what is quickly becoming apparent is that here there is definitely a baby bird feeding complex going on in the classrooms.  I am sure that it exists everywhere in the world, but it is the first time that I’ve experienced it, or at least noticed it.  The basic principle is that the loudest bird, which demands the most attention is the one that gets fed.  Now it is obvious that this tactic works because the teachers here, conscious of the decision or not, pay the most attention to the loud rude birds, and let the quiet polite ones sit idly in class.  Having played the quiet version of this proverbial bird I know how frustrating this can be.  In general the classroom here is a much more rowdy environment that I ever experienced in my Newton, MA classrooms.  There is literally never a completely quiet moment.  At any given instance there is a kid talking to someone else in the room or sticking a head out the window speaking to a friend outside, or simply calling at the teacher for attention.  As a result everything goes unbelievably slowly during in class.  The lessons, which last two hours, usually cover a single basic topic, and a few examples.  The rest of the time is spent in anguish trying to maintain a grip on the classroom.  For instance, in a class period last week, which again lasted two hours, we covered “there is and there are”.  Two hours to explain something, which is directly translatable from Spanish.  I don’t know if I am just unaware of the teaching / learning processes and mechanics of teaching in high school, but I feel that you should be able to cover much more than this in a single class.  I want to stress again that these kids are no morally worse off than whoever you may find in the states, but there is a certain lack of respect and discipline that seems to be endemic.  But anyways, its not my job to run the class, but I can’t help but get a bit frustrated when the teacher gets baited by the students into losing her temper.

What’s been working for me to calm the kids down is just to get right up in their face and guilt trip them into submission with overwhelming politeness.  I kid you not, but the Jewish and Chinese disciplinary guilting is strong in my blood.  It’s the whole “I’m not mad, I’m disappointed” mentality.  I guess I did practice that tactic to pretty successful ends as a camp counselor all those years ago, but I’m more than a little pleased to see it working here too.  I basically just say please do so and so in a neutral tone, which just barely leans towards puppy dog pleading.  It’s a pretty excellent tactic because it redirects all that douchebaggery the kid was spewing back at his or herself.  Its winning by not playing the game.  Take note my young leaders.  However, if y’all got better tactics lemme know.

The picture edition

So there are things that I should be telling you about things, but for now you get pictures.  Yay! Oh, and bonus non colombian things as well.

So this is the Grand Canyon.  It is both grand and a canyon, go figure

So I had to climb down into rim of the canyon to take this picture for y'all.  Kinda sorta scary, I have a pretty strong memory of getting some pretty sever tunnel vision, heart palpitations, and general anxiety from being on said cliff edge.  And yes, I did pee into the thousand foot drop off, I know you were all wondering :D.

Pueblo Rico, this is outside of my house.  You can see one of the little canchas and the surrounding mountain sides.  I kinda like it.

This is my neighbor's house, but mine is almost identical.  They're pretty cozy, but awesome.  They have all the modern amenities, minus inter webs, if you were wondering.

I ate some shit playing soccer in the coliseo with some kids.  Slipped right in a mud puddle, and made a mess of myself.  Nice little puffball though.  And I bought a guitar here, which is always awesome, but I don't find myself having so much time to play it...

Ah, the wonderful city of Medellín

I went to the feria de las flores last weekend and there were these awesome animal sculptures made entirely of flowers.  Pretty cool.  This is Armie the Armadillo

Larry the Bird

Izzy the Iguana

A close up fixture of Izzy's tail.  I told you they were made of flowers

That guy

There is always cool graffiti to be found if you keep your eyes open, this is a bit that was on the side of a highway in Medellín

My favorite from the collection "el caos"

A cool walking bridge in Medellín, you can see all the mountains and lot of the city from here

The pueblos built into the side of the mountain

They set up these massive overhangs in the botanical gardens of the city, which I thought were pretty cool.  I'm not sure if they're always there or if they're part of the feria

Cool exhibit in the botanical gardens.  Flower waves, crashing on a lighthouse

Don't forget to take a close look sometimes

Some cool street art that was going on outside of the botanical gardens by a metro stop.  Oh yeah, medellin has probably the best metro system that I have ever been on.  Super fast and clean.  Super crowded, though.

This one was way creepier than the nice happy lion family, but still cool

I went up to this place about an hour outside of Medellín called Santa Elena where they make all of these floats for an annual parade.  I had to leave the city due to time constraints unfortunately, but the day I left this float and many others are carried down the street on the backs of their creators during said parade.

It was cool seeing where they made all of the floats and they take advantage of the tourists popularity of the site by turning this little pueblo into a party town for the weekend.  Pretty cool

Inside of the hostel where I stayed in Medellín

BONUS! I gave myself a flu shot one time :D

This is a giant sequoia.  It is rather large.  I took this pic on spring break last year when I drove from Manteca CA to Joshua tree by LA and back.  Y'all should check out highway 1.

I think y'all know this story, but I got hired by a band to drive a van from Denver to LA an along the way I passed through Canyon Land in Utah, which was pretty cool.  Y'all should go there too