Since then, that night, we've had 2 visits to a doctors office, been to Berlitz every day (sometimes twice a day), seen the American apartment (not quite worth what they're asking... and I'm disappointed that some fellow patriots can't cut us a break), seen a concert celebrating the independence of Cartagena in 1811, seen a parade, and taken taxis to hell and back. Now, we're finally relaxing on Saturday night. I almost, for a second, thought about showering and going out tonight. And then the moment passed and I realized I would be lucky to take a shower before I fall onto the airbed of my sweaty yet all-too-short Cartagena nights.
In other news teachers are dropping like pine needles from a Christmas tree. The tree looks so beautiful and smells so nice until little by little it begins to degrade in your living room. So the story of Berlitz. So far, 2 teachers within our 6 person training group have quit or been "relieved" and another one has gone back to Canada to work to gain some money to get a visa. And another is looking elsewhere for work. If I said I didn't see this coming I wouldn't be lying, but I wouldn't be telling the whole truth either. The whole operation seems kind of shaky. More and more I'm seeing the gold leaf fall away from this magical deal in this magical city, and unfortunately there isn't enough wind for me to miss seeing the piles of it around my feet. I can't say it's not still magical or that I'm unhappy to be here but... I'm becoming disillusioned with both the job and the people and... horror of horrors, the culture.
After having to stubbornly insist on semi-drinking abstinence today at the parade with a friend and her friends/cousins/whoevers, Ryan and I had a thoughtful conversation about work ethic. After explaining to our friend that our week must have been designed by a cousin of the devil and that we needed to pick up our stuff from work and get cracking, she still complained that we were lame and told us we'd better come out tonight. Or else we might be lamer. I could probably tell you already that I'm lame, and very happy about it. :D Obviously there are cultural differences, but are Colombians really interested as work as an outlet for talents and ambitions, or are they more likely to work just to pay the bills, buy nice stuff to show to other people, and party every chance possible? I am sure the answer is that there are people who fall on both sides of the spectrum, as in any other country. The question is, in our realm, how will our perception of hard-work and responsibility to our work differ and parallel those of our co-workers. And how much will we suffer because we take our job, and ourselves, seriously when it comes to work?
Now, if you're wondering why I am so gung-ho, you have to know that I've been watching my bank account (which I worked hard to see grow since May) dwindle on seemingly neverending expenses related to this job, I'm still a guest in my wonderful friend Carmen's house, I still don't have a phone, and I still have no idea how to make a bank account. Now, after my 3 week vacation including a short trip to Miami, a visa ($205) to work, and the sadness of throwing money into the black hole that investments sometimes seem to be, I want to work. I don't want to drink, dance, or party. I want to work. So, whether it's culturally acceptable or not, please take this shot of Aguardiente away from me before I toss it in your face. I'll get back to you after my life has settled into a pattern, I feel like I have some kind of control, and I know what I'm doing at work. Maybe I'll even blog that I can hardly find a moment to share my life because every free minute is spent living like a Costena on vacation... but until then, I'm still an uptight American who likes to sleep and work and organize before I make a controlled mess. And then clean it up again.
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