Why I Don't Cook

It all started a couple weeks ago over a bottle of wine.  Daniel, my Colombian friend, stated that it was my turn to cook.  He had made us a couple delicious meals already and wanted to witness my skills in the kitchen.  Nnooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As most people know, I cannot even make a jello look appetizing, and except for being the mashed potato beater for family dinners (and let's get real: that's only because Monica moved away), I am always delegated to be the dish washer, a job I love and am reasonably good at (though a bit slow some people say....ahem...Jill.)

Since being in Colombia, I literally have not cooked once, unless you count popcorn, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, or boiling water.  Needless to say, I was quite nervous and began asking several people on what I should make.  Wanting something simple and quick, I decided on Mama's Poor Man's Stroganoff.  Although I had never made it, the directions were straight-forward enough, and the recipe seemed fool-proof.  Boy, was I wrong.  

Let's start with the ingredients, shall we?  

1 pound lean ground beef:  Yes, they have ground beef here, but it sure didn't look lean to me.  

1 can cream of mushroom soup:  In Colombia?  Nah.  Why have cans?  Instead, there are packets of dried up soup that you just add water to.  

Beef bouillon:  Honestly, I forgot about this ingredient.  Probably for the best...

Garlic salt:  There was no plain garlic salt, so I got a mixture of different seasonings.  

Dash of pepper:  Finally! Something I have in the house!

Noodles:  Ah, packaged food.  So easy. 

It started off as such a lovely afternoon: playing cards, taking a walk to get some ice cream, etc.  The whole time, though, my stomach was churning.  

The hour had arrived.  Kicking Daniel out of the kitchen (biggest mistake ever), I proceeded to pretend like I knew what I was doing.  

First step: browning the meat on medium to medium-high heat.  Hahahahahahahaha!  Please.  Like I have more than one setting on my stove.  It's high.  Period.  

Of course, there was no place to drain the grease from the meat, so after scooping some down the sink, I just left the rest in there. 

This is where is started getting a little tricky.  Do you see the packets of cream of mushroom soup?  Well, I added water to one of the packets, but there barely seemed to be enough there to make sauce.  This meant that I should add another packet, right?  Ummm....no.  Common sense would have told me that would make the meat too salty, but it had flown out the window with the rest of my cooking abilities long ago.  

Suddenly, the meat started looking like the cheapie brand of dog food.  Oh no.  Daniel must have seen the distress on my face and came over to check things out.  Tasting the meat, he tried to remedy the situation by adding cream to tone the salty flavor down.  Nope.  Didn't work.  At this point in time, I had just about given up any hope of a good meal.  Daniel finished the noodles (the one thing that turned out) and dished us out some truly unappealing mush, and we settled down to eat.  

If it wasn't for the wine, the meal would've been a huge flop.  Actually, it was a gigantic flop, but the wine eased the embarrassment a tad.  As Daniel was shoveling down the meal (trying to just get the pain over with, I'm sure) and commenting on the nice flavor, I was downing glass after glass of water.  Dehydration had kicked in after the first bite, and it was only getting worse.  

I am a huge fan of always finishing everything on my plate and never wasting any food.  I believe it shows then just how horrible my stroganoff was when I threw a third of my plate and all the leftovers away.

The moral of the story: When one has a maid that cooks for you, there is no point in doing anything by yourself, most of all cooking.

Thankfully, Daniel is cooking again this weekend, eggplant lasagna, I believe.  My job?  Pour the wine and wash the dishes.  All is right in the world again.

Bocachica

On Friday, the sixth graders and most of their teachers took a catamaran to Bocachica, an island about 15 kilometers away from Cartagena with no running water.  We met at 7:30 at the bay but didn't leave until eight because that's just the way things work around here.  

It was an absolutely gorgeous day, though the sun seemed stronger than usual.  The kids were all bright-eyed and excited for the trip, and the teachers were thankful for a day out of the classroom.  

Fuerte de San Fernando

I was assigned to 6A, the class who tries my patience the most.  They are all great kids, but together, they are incredibly loud and rambunctious.  Thankfully, they have improved immensely since the beginning of the year.  

The class was amazing!  They listened to the guide, asked questions, translated for Elizabeth and I, and were just a blast to be around.  The failing students were some of the most polite and interested.  It was such a nice change from the classroom setting. 

Has anyone heard of a selfie stick?  Well, I hadn't either until a couple months ago when they were making fun of it on NPR.  Quite a few of the students had them and would hold the sticks straight in the guide's face, recording every word coming out of his mouth.  Even the kids with cell phones were recording.  The guide took it well, but man, I bet he was happy when we left. 

The first place we toured was Fuerte de San Fernando, a fort built back in the pirating days.  They had a row of holes for toilets, a moat where they used to feed prisoners to sharks, and an underground passage to escape.  

  We swapped places with 6B and took a jaunt up the hill to visit Batería del Angel San Rafael.  This was another fort-like structure with cannons and tunnels filled with flying bats, probably the kids' favorite part.  There wasn't much of a tour here, just exploring around and snacking. 

Do you see the dog in the middle?  His name is Chicha (named by the kids), and he ate very well on Friday.  The kids even poured some water into a bowl for him to drink.  When we left the Bateria, he followed us down for lunch and beach time. 

We met down by the beach where we were fed a huge portion of fish, rice, patacones, and salad with a soda on the side.  The kids were then allowed to play on the beach and in the ocean...no lifeguards around.  The teachers all sat underneath a beach tent and enjoyed the day.  I really do lead a tough life.

Kids were told to bring their swimming suits, but even if they forgot, it didn't hinder them from getting in the water.

There was a litter of puppies by the restaurant that the kids somehow found.  After asking their parents, Santi and Estefania ended up each taking a puppy home.  Thank goodness because the animals on that island were not treated well at all.  

We arrived back at the bay around 2:30, where I hopped on a bus and took a lovely snooze back at home.  I wish we could do a field trip every month.  

Earthquake!!!!

Upon arriving home from school today, I did what I normally do and gorged myself on Guadalupe's amazing food.  Just as I was starting to clean up, I hear the shells in the kitchen start rattling.  Odd.  The door was closed so no wind could get in.  

Just as I am trying to make sense of the shells, I feel the whole building swaying.  The tall lamp in the parlor and objects on the furniture were rocking side to side.  Worst of all?  I could actually see the floor tilting.  Tilting!  Ummmmm....I'm on the twentieth floor.  If the building collapses, both Bella and I are dead.  

I took a peek at the ground and noticed all the construction workers running out of the building they're working on and several other people hanging out by the streets.  I tried calling the portero, but alas, there was no signal.  The swaying had eased up a bit at this point, so I decided to wait it out and pray that the building would remain standing.  It worked!  

It ends up that there was a 6.2 magnitude earthquake in the center of the country, and Cartagena was just feeling the tremors.  With as freaked out as I was with those, I feel horribly for the poor souls that experience the full power of one.

The construction crews waited a full thirty minutes before shuffling back into the building site.

"Santa Fe, are you there? Do you swear you won't forget me?"

Early on the morning of February 25th, I made the long journey to Santa Fe, New Mexico.  The school had consented to my request to attend the MidSchoolMath Conference there and paid for everything, even giving me a food allowance.  Although the conference probably wasn't worth all the money spent, I still enjoyed meeting other middle school teachers and getting different ideas for making math come alive.  Here are some of the highlights:

I stayed in La Fonda, a four-star hotel in the middle of downtown Santa Fe.  Now, I know many of you have not traveled with me, but if I stay in a place with any stars whatsoever, I am treating myself.   From the hot showers to cocooning myself in the king-sized bed, the room was lovely.  The best part: robes were provided!  I have only ever seen that in movies, so it was quite a treat.  

There was a small gym and jacuzzi at the hotel as well.  One of the most relaxing parts was lounging in the jacuzzi with snow landing on my head.

Notice the robe on the bed.

That's right: another robe in the bathroom...plus, a shower with a glass partition.
(I really do not stay in luxury places often...Can you tell?)

From the time I rode in the shuttle from Albuquerque to when I departed Santa Fe, it snowed most of the time.  It started off gradually and eventually became a blizzard (according to the newscasters) by Friday night.  The temperatures were a wee bit chillier than what I'm used to, and of course, I have no winter clothes in Cartagena.  The bitter air sure does make one feel alive, though.  

A car with rotting teeth.  

The St. Francis Cathedral adjacent to the hotel.  

That's right: I wore my rain jacket (thank goodness it
 was warm and long!) and blended in with the snow.

The best part of my trip was going to Walmart.  I know, I know: I'm a whackjob.  

With it continually growing colder, I decided to stock up on supplies at the local Walmart 4.62 miles away.  I was told taxis were uber expensive but that there was a bus that would take me there for only a buck.  

Luckily, I was able to hop right on and enjoy the warm ride with some other...hmmmm...interesting people.  Forty minutes later, I was loading up my cart with hard-to-find items in Colombia.  When I approached the cashier, she was trying to converse with a man but not having an easy time of it.  Asking if I spoke Spanish, I gallantly stepped in and saved the day. (Truthfully, it was very basic Spanish, but it felt good actually understanding the man.)  While the lady was ringing the gentleman up, I found out he is a nice man from Chihuahua, Mexico (this is important for later on in the story). 

Exiting Walmart, I was pelted with glacial winds and freezing snow.  Trying not to kill myself in the slippery parking lot, I trudged my way to the bus stop with both arms full.  After waiting at the stop for ten minutes or so, I peeked my head inside a cigar shop to see just how often the buses ran.  The answer: every 30 to 60 minutes...if I was lucky.  Ummmmm....this could be a problem.  

Trying to avoid frostbite, I paced up and down the sidewalk, my nose steadily turning rigid.  Do you know the Sphinx's nose?  With one slight tap, my nose would end up the same way.  No bueno.  Fifteen more minutes of being thankful I live in a tropical place, I suddenly hear a man asking if I want a ride.  He had been talking on his phone in a nearby drive-thru parking lot and had obviously taken pity on me.  

Now, I realize that what I am about to say will surely cause some horror and believing me to be faulty in my thinking, but that is life.  I took him up on it and am so glad I did.  There are times in life when one must trust in the kindness of strangers.  Ramón was quite friendly, kept up the conversation even though I was finding it difficult to speak with stiff lips, and drove me all the way to La Fonda.  The best part: Ramon is from Chihuahua, Mexico!  I truly love the Mexicanos.

*Mama, this does not mean I need to watch Taken again.  

All in all, my trip to Santa Fe was a good one.  I was even able to stock up on some wine and try their famous chocolate.  The next conference I attend, though, will be in the warmer months.

Medellin Weekend

A couple weekends ago, some teachers and I took a quick trip to Medellin.  Many of you may have heard of this city as it is the hometown of Pablo Escobar, the infamous drug lord of the eighties.  The city has come a long way and is now one of the most progressive cities in Latin America.  

Several of us stayed in Maureen's boyfriend's mom's house in a nice, older neighborhood.  The mom was extremely hospitable and made our stay quite comfortable.  Plus, she has hot water, and I believe you all know how I feel about hot water.  

Although we went out both nights we were there, my favorite parts were walking through the neighborhoods with Maureen and visiting Parque Arvi.  In order to get to the park, we had to take the subway (one of the cleanest I've ever seen) and then a metro cable (an enclosed ski lift) up a mountain.  The views were spectacular.  At the top, there were a bunch of stands to buy a variety of items, such as wine, fruit, tamales, and trinkets.  (With only a carry-on, I couldn't buy the wine.  Next time...)

There is a pretty hike through forest that leads to a small waterfall along a stream.  The weather was perfect, and it felt great to be getting some exercise after eating all weekend long.  

All in all, a good time.