Diving in Cartagena

This past Saturday, Michelle, Christy and I went diving at seven in the morning.  That's right: no sleeping in here!  It was a beautiful, cool day, and we had a friendly, attractive dive instructor, Daniel.  The boat took us out on a thirty-minute ride to the middle of the ocean where the waves were quite choppy.  Unfortunately, Michelle felt the effects as we were gearing up and proceeded to feed the fish her regurgitated breakfast.  Luckily, she was quite the sport and ended up diving anyway.  

Our first dive was over and around a wall about 60 feet below.  The coral was beautiful, and we saw quite a few tropical fish.  It had been a year and a half since my last dive, so I had been a bit nervous about getting in, but there was no need as everything went smoothly.  

Upon surfacing, they gave us water, fruit and chips as we dealt with the rocking of the boat.  Not only was Michelle still seasick, but her leg was burning from a transparent rope she had run into.  The men doused it with water and vinegar, but welts showed up just the same.  The fish continued profiting from her nauseousness.  

For the second dive, we toured around a ship that had sunk 20 years ago.  It used to shine the light for boats coming into harbor but perished during a rough storm.  The current was a bit stronger here, and both Christy and I came up bleeding from scraping against the concrete ship while exiting the interior.  

The black and white fish is the lion fish.  It is beautiful as it hovers over its territory, but it is also an invasive species and kills all the fish that protect reefs.  In the past, I have seen divers bring spears to kill these fish because they're overtaking the Caribbean.  Luckily, we were just able to admire the view this time.  

Although we didn't see any large species of fish, it was good to be in the water again, and I enjoyed being on the boat.  We will probably wait until the windy season is over to go again; the waves should be more bearable at that point.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

This past Sunday was Cartagena's tree lighting ceremony.  The whole center was packed with families enjoying the festivities.  Everywhere you look, there are beautiful lights.  With the nip in the air (granted, it's still 78 degrees outside, but the ocean seems to be blowing in colder air), it almost seems like Christmastime.  

I have seen at least three large trees, all centered around the touristy areas of town.  The parks were decked out, and parts of the fountain had colored water shooting up.

Smart vendors catered to the kids with ice cream, noise makers and toys.

While trying to get through the throngs of people and out of el Centro, we stumbled upon this horse parade that gets its origins from Medellin.  Unfortunately, the cobblestone streets are too narrow, and the horses looked frightened by all the people and noise.  We even saw a horse trip and its owner fall off when it stumbled on a raised rock.  Both ended up being fine, but it irritates me how poorly the Costenos treat their animals at times.  

My apartment has this beautiful tree and manger set up in the lobby downstairs. 

To top it all off, one of the bells at school plays "Jingle Bell Rock".  It's impossible not to dance or sing a little when it comes on, and the kids (and teachers) always seem a bit more upbeat upon hearing it.

Taganga

  Last Friday was another three-day weekend for Thanksgiving.  Elizabeth and I headed on a four-hour bus journey to Taganga, a small fishing town north along the coast.  This village mainly caters to tourists heading into Tayrona National Park and has some great food.  Both Friday and Saturday night, we dined at Babaganoush Restaurant where you can get an appetizer, entree and dessert for only fourteen bucks.  Plus, they had happy hour all night long.  I would've paid fourteen dollars for the pumpkin soup alone.  

    On Saturday, Elizabeth, Jumana (had gone up on Thursday) and I took an hour boat ride with about 16 other people to Tayrona to spend the day snorkeling and enjoying the beach.  Little did we know that we'd be pounding against the waves in a slightly-larger-than-a-canoe death trap the whole way.  Although I was sitting in the back in the middle, I had absolutely nothing to hang onto as my seat was just a tiny addition to the steering console.  My legs got quite the workout just trying to keep me in.  Upon arriving at the first beach where everyone but Elizabeth, Jumana and me disembarked, a Spaniard ahead of me stated, "You have to go through Hell first before reaching Heaven."  You know it's been a rough ride when everyone claps with relief when we landed safely.  

  

  Unfortunately, the three of us still had another fifteen-minute ride to Cinto, a deserted bay area that Jumana's boyfriend had recommended.  Although it was quite pretty, there wasn't much of a beach, and the visibility for snorkeling was nil.  Luckily, the boat driver was there with us, so we headed back to Playa Crystal.  

  This spot was much better, and we were actually able to see colorful fish and coral.  Plus, they had a bathroom (costs a buck to use) with no running water or toilet paper.  The best!  

  The ride home was a bit rougher for me, as I had a seat in the very front.  The same Spaniard sat next to me, and I literally held on to his life jacket the whole time for fear of flying out of the boat.  Quite a few times, we hit a wave head-on, and our butteaus rose a couple feet from the bench only to thump back down a second later.  Let's just say the conversation was a wee bit stilted at times.  

  On Sunday, we shoveled down some breakfast and took the longer, five-hour ride home.  

Thanksgiving

Turkey Trot 

  My Thanksgiving started off a bit early this year, as I had to run the 10k Turkey Trot on Wednesday since there was school on Thursday and two separate feasts to attend.
  On Wednesday after school, it was that muggy type of day that just drains the life right out of you.  I waited until sunset to begin my run and was immediately greeted by several obstacles: construction on the sidewalk that made me run side by side with oncoming traffic, big ditches and sand piles scattered throughout the way, hordes of tourists and locals lazily making their way in the opposite direction and taking up the whole sidewalk, crashing waves of salt water sprayed at me and the cement, making it a slippery place to run, and, of course, the heat.  Added onto all that were the wonderful aromas of car/bus exhaust, a hint of rain, fish, and occasionally, that high-inducing smell of pot.  It just puts an extra bounce in one's step, you know?
  Now, you may believe that I'm making excuses for my poorest time yet (and you may be right), but the biggest one is yet to come.  Not having a vehicle to measure exactly five kilometers from my house to Bocagrande, I used Google Maps.  Well, the only option was a driving route that went a block or so out of the way.  Being the honest person I am, I added on an extra block on my run, not realizing that it was more like two blocks each way.  That's right: I went over 10k.  Just saying.
  Unfortunately, I was unable to get under an hour.  There was no way I could pick up my speed much at the end.  This was after drinking over three liters of water throughout the day.  My body refused to let me kill myself with heat exhaustion.  Alas, my time was 1:02:50, and it was quite the relief to get it over with.  As much as I missed the camaraderie of torturing myself with hundreds of other people and family members, I kept the tradition alive and halfway enjoyed myself in the process.

Thanksgiving Day

  After teaching for half a day on Thursday, the students went home, and the school provided the staff with a fancy Thanksgiving feast.  The cafeteria was decked out, and it was a good time stuffing ourselves with the delicious fare.  They served a variety of foods, including mashed squash, veggies, meatloaf, turkey, mashed potatoes, and dessert: pecan pie or flan.  (I, of course, waited for the pecan pie.)  When everyone was finished eating, the buses took us home to recuperate for a couple hours before eating again.  

  That night, quite a few teachers met at Steve's (the principal's) building for a potluck.  I don't know if it was the run or the presence of good ol' American food, but I went up for refills more than once.
  Although I missed having Thanksgiving with the family (and, let's get real, Mama's stuffing and crumb-topped apple pie), I ended up enjoying myself with the people here.  All in all, it was a successful Thanksgiving.