My morning at the gym

This morning my friend and  I took a Rumba class. You know, the high energy super fun dance/aerobics class I wrote about last week. I had the same entertaining male instructor, the one who I think really wants to be part of a dance ensemble on Broadway.  I have had two other male instructors and he is by far my favorite because of how simply entertaining he is. (He loves to do jazz hands and look at himself in the mirror while he gyrates his hips really fast. Need I say more?)
All the people taking the class are women, I am assuming they are mostly Colombian women and that most if not all are housewives. They are always dressed in outfits that match, even down to socks and scrunchies. Their hair is in a perfect pony tail, their make up seemingly shellacked on because no matter how much they sweat, I never see it run.
Anyway, during class, one of the women stopped dancing and got the remote control for the air conditioning unit to change the setting. Next thing I know, another women takes it, says something to the first woman then changes the setting again. The room is not big and there were probably about 15 women in the room and there wasn't much more space to move. So, anyone stopping in the middle of the room to do anything can be a bit disruptive. The instructor ignored both women and kept on going. So, the rest of us are having to maneuver around these two women. I figured they would take a minute to figure out the AC and get back to the dancing. I was wrong. One of the women then went out to get another gym employee to change the setting (Apparently it wasn't cool enough for her, maybe her makeup was in danger of melting. I go to the gym expecting to sweat and after an hour look like a slob, so I didn't care if the AC is on high or low.).
The employee tried to change the setting and when it didn't work left the room and returned two minutes later with another remote that changed the setting to something that made the women happy.
Meanwhile, the woman who started the AC remote thing to begin with, started talking with her friend who was standing next to me right in the middle of the class, while I was trying to salsa my way to a leaner me. Again, the instructor ignored everyone but his beautiful self in the mirror and kept on going.
I kept turning to my friend and smiling about the goings on of this woman who kept stopping. Just when I thought the class couldn't get any funnier (I was laughing to myself this whole time over the AC needing to be perfect) The instructor changes the song and we go from a fast salsa to...... Michael Jackson's Thriller. He then proceeded to lead us dancing the zombie dance from the video!! I was ready to fall on the floor laughing my head off!!! I was actually doing the Thriller dance!! It was another time I wished I had a reality show camera following me, you all would have been rolling on the floor laughing too.

Pics of incoming Navy ship

Cartagena Lure

Hola! Here is a great site that highlights the best of what Cartagena has to offer. Enjoy!
http://www.lurecartagena.com/eng/index.asp

Where are you from?

I have been asked this question my entire life. For most people, the answer is simple.
"I am from..Texas, New York, Colombia, Egypt, Long Island etc...."
For me, I have never found the question an easy one. I was born in Alexandria, Egypt and moved to the US when I was a toddler. I grew up primarily in New Jersey, but have also lived in North Dakota (for about a year), Maine and my most recent residence is in New Hampshire, before moving to Colombia. People here often ask "Where are you from?" I will at first say, "The US, but usually will add, however, I was born in Egypt." Actually, I like saying Egipto in Spanish, so I will usually say "Yo soy Egipto." When I was still in Jersey, I would always say, "I'm Egyptian." When visiting family in Egypt, I was considered a foreigner, regardless if I saw myself that way.
I could never relate to people who have lived their entire lives in one place, or who live in the same house as their grandparents, or even their parents. Being from more than one place will always be who I am and where I am from. I realized that I have developed character traits from the two places that have impacted my life the most. Egypt and New Jersey.  It was during a recent conversation with people here that I came to the conclusion that what I am most accurately is a "Jersey Arab." I talk fast and with my hands (one of my friends here calls me ghetto fabulous because of the hand talking). The talking fast is both from  Arabic being my first language and from growing up in Jersey. I tend to speak first and think later.  I am not sure I can blame this on either identity, but if I had to choose, I would say that's the Jersey in me.
I have told people here I am "from" New Hampshire, but I am not fooling anyone. New Englanders are not nearly as in your face outgoing and loud as I am. I thought I would not be the loudest person in the room when I came to Colombia. Well, I still am. Colombians, in general, are not a loud people. When I am out to eat, I have found people turn and look at me either when I am laughing, or telling a story (in which case, I tend to get very animated).
So, where am I from? I am a US Jersey Arab with a house in New Hampshire who currently resides in Cartagena, Colombia. 

Hips Don't Lie

I am an avid fan of Zumba, having taken my first class a few years ago while still living in New Jersey. It was love at first hip shake. The class was created by a Colombian man. I couldn't wait to try it here in Cartagena. (for those of you who have never heard of Zumba, it is an aerobics class that uses Latin dance moves for the work out.)
 My friend and I went to the gym early this morning and we found out there would be a Rumba class. (In Colombia the classes are called Rumba not Zumba. Not sure why the name change for the States, but I am guessing it might be a copyright issue.)
My friend couldn't stay for the class, so after working out on some machines, I stayed alone to try it.
It was unlike any of the classes I took in the States. First, I had never had a male instructor and here was a young man leading the hip shaking.
My friend did let the instructor know I don't speak Spanish and I would be able to follow along because I have taken the class before in the States.
Hahaha. I laugh now, because what I took in the States only loosely resembles REAL Rumba.
The class started simple enough with slow moves for a warm up.  I couldn't wait to show off my hip shaking abilities. (Being an Egyptian woman means I grew up learning how to belly dance among my aunts and female cousins. I have mostly belly danced in the States around my friends who are predominantly of European decent, so hip shaking was not something they did well and I was always more adept at.)
Well, humble pie was served a la mode this morning. I danced with a room full of Latin women and a Latin man leading the show. At times I felt like I was trying out to be an extra in a Shakira video and other times I felt like I was part of the scene in 'West Side Story' where Rita Moreno sings about how she likes it here in America while dancing exuberantly on a rooftop.
No matter which scene popped into my head, I was clearly going to be one of he dancers who was cut out of the show. I was never more grateful that I am an unselfconscious person than this morning. I tried to follow along as best I could and although I got some of the moves wrong, what I lacked in skill I certainly made up for in energy and exuberance.
The women around me were all thin and wearing matching outfits and knew how to shake their hips the way only Latin women know how. The instructor went from one move to another seamlessly and the group followed. In the States, instructors are measured in teaching moves, breaking down the dance into small steps then leading up to putting all the moves together for the dance.
The instructor here simply lead and we followed. We understood where he was going with the moves and we went along for the ride. 
Well, I have a lot more hip shaking practicing to do so I can even come close to dancing the way the rest of my class does.

The State of Boredom

One of the things I heard before I came and since arriving (from US citizens) is that there is not much to do here and it can get boring for the spouses without jobs. (Colombians I have spoken to LOVE Cartagena and acknowledge it is small, but I never heard one complain about being bored here.)
First, I want to say a bit about the state of being bored. To me, boredom is a lack of imagination. I never understand people who say they are bored. When my children say it, (which is rare because I react so strongly) I tell them that their boredom is not my problem. They can clean, do laundry or read a book. I am not here to entertain them or anyone else for that matter.
While I can understand to an extent a child or teenager complaining of boredom. I don't get it when a grown person complains. I have to bite my tongue from responding with things like, "Really? You're bored here? Don't you read books? They can be very engaging. The internet is also a really cool invention that, when used creatively, can really engage ones mind."
I am also puzzled by the people here who complain about the lack of sightseeing. I thought about my life in the US. I didn't spend every weekend sightseeing with my family. In fact, we rarely went to tourist attractions. We spent our time with schoolwork, sports and exercising around our neighborhood and town. I want to ask the people here who complain about such things-"Did you really spend every spare moment back home sightseeing?"
We spend our summers on an island off the coast of Maine that has only two general stores and one community center. You can only get there by boat. It is one of my favorite places on the planet. I have never felt bored there and in fact, I feel most at peace when I am there.
When someone said to me, "Well, there's not much to do here." I said, "I live on an island in the summer with only two small general stores. I am sure there is more to do here in Cartagena, Colombia."
The other funny statement I have heard from more than one person is, "There is a mall here, it's small, but at least it is something to do." Wow. I hated the malls in New Jersey when I lived there. I only went when I absolutely had to.  The last place I would go just to keep from being "bored" would be the mall. (I can write an entire blog entry about the "mall culture" that is in the US and we are sadly exporting all over the world, but I will save that for another day.)

Learning what it Really Means to be 'American'

At times in conversations here in Colombia, I will refer to being American and I have been told by more than one person, that people here are Americans too. The more accurate description would be to say, people from the United States. People from Central America and South America consider themselves American. People from the United States seem to think the word applies to them only, when in fact, it doesn't.
I realized that I have not heard any native Colombian refer to people from the States as American. They will rarely say America, they will say 'United States,' when referring to the country itself. 
I do know that in Europe and the Middle East and perhaps other parts of the world may not differentiate and say Americans when referring to US citizens or the country. However, here in South America, people are well aware that there many countries whose citizens are also American. Kind of puts the whole immigration discussion in a new light doesn't it. At least it does for me.

Attitude is Everything

In my last blog post, I write about how expectation in life is everything. After spending the day with one of the most full of life people I have ever met, I realized that attitude is everything.
I was asked by a friend if I wanted to take a day trip to Barranquilla, a city about an hour and a half ride north of Cartagena. My friend, Michelle, said we would be making some purchases from the new Price Smart (a Costco type store) that just opened up. I never pass up an opportunity to visit a new city.
Because the company the purchases were for needed many items, two cars were taken.
Michelle and I were not the only females going, the wife of another employee of the company was also going. I met her just as we were going to leave. Her name is Evelyn and she is from Honduras. Evelyn told me right away that it was Central American Independence day. She had on a beautiful blue shirt and white pants along with a pin of a United States flag next to a Honduran flag.  As she was explaining her excitement about the holiday, she was radiant and full of energy and light. When she learned my name she told me it would be confusing for her because we know another woman in the office who has a similar name to mine. I told her whatever she called me would be fine.
As we went to go in the cars, her husband had expected her to ride with him and Michelle and I would ride in the other car. She immediately asked if we could ride together. Hence, the three women rode together and her husband went with another man in the other car.
It was one of the funnest car rides I have ever been on. Evelyn speaks English very well, (she will tell you she doesn't, but she does) despite learning as an adult when she moved to the States.
My Spanish is slim to none, so we had fun telling stories about getting around in a different country when you don't know the language. The funniest story she told involved her going to the garden store in WalMart. She needed fertilizer, but didn't know the word for what she needed.
She explained, "I needed something for my plants and I didn't know the word, so I went up the woman and said, 'Excuse me, do you have cow shit?' She looked at me and said, 'You mean manure.' And I said, yes, this is right." We hooted over that one. I told her my story of trying to find turkey at the grocery store. I asked for a 'pollo grande' (a big chicken) and we laughed over that too.
We spent the entire car ride talking about all sorts of things, laughing and just enjoying each others company. Not once did she talk about what wasn't available here, or what she didn't like or why other places are better. I just loved her spirit and her energy. We went to the big box store, loaded up on items and then went to lunch. We ate, laughed some more and got back in the car for another hour and a half ride, which went by quickly because of how much fun we were having. It was really fun because her husband had to ride with us because the other car was so full of merchandise. At one point we were laughing about something and I used the word 'booby' and she said, "Oh, my husband told me to use the word, 'breast' because 'booby' is not nice. Well, of course I took that as an invitation to say the word 'booby' as often as I can. (I can only hope she is not banned from hanging out with me anymore!)
Anyway, even though we didn't spend time in a museum or beach or park or anything others consider fun, I had the best time with someone who just appreciated being in the moment. Thank you to Evelyn and Michelle for one of the funnest times I have had in Colombia.

Expectation is Everything
I came to Cartagena with very low expectations. Before arriving, I heard different things from people about what to expect. Some who have lived here said that it was a great city and a lot of fun. Other people have told me that, after the sights are toured, you will get bored quickly.
I had heard the supermarkets are small, the mall is small and does not offer much variety, and the city does not have much to offer a family.
Well, I came here expecting to food shop in a store no bigger than a bodega you would find in New York City. The reality is not quite as primitive. The supermarkets here are an adequate size. I have found most of the ingredients I cook with. (Although for some odd reason black pepper is very expensive here, so I have had friends ship me some from the States.) I have also found new ingredients, spices and herbs I have never seen before. Guascas is an herb found in a common soup here, there are many different kinds of plantain chips (all delicious) and there are ready made frozen empanadas and other tasty Colombian dishes that are heat and eat.
Having said that, American products such as cleaning supplies, shampoos and other groceries that are imported are also very expensive. I try to keep purchasing those items to a minimum. 
As for the sight seeing. Because We have been busy each weekend with sailing and swimming, we have not really even begun to start exploring the rich history of this city. I am looking forward to finding out about the Spanish influence here as well as the history of the indigenous people of the Colombian coast.
As for the mall, it is fine. I didn't love the malls in America, I have little patience for shopping, so it didn't matter to me what size it was going to be. Again, because my expectations were so small, I thought it would have three stores tops. It has much more than that, a food court, arcade and movie theater, it is more than adequate for our needs.
I have come across a few Americans who have experienced Cartagena as "primitive."
I understand, to an extent, these experiences. It was very frustrating to wait weeks to get internet hooked up, the internet/phone company will say they will show up on Wednesday at 3pm and they don't come until the following week on Thursday at 5:30pm. That is the norm here. It takes a long time for any services and medical care is not consistent. My daughter is seeing an orthodontist here who seems to know what he is doing. Several Americans here have used this doctor and seem happy. Many women I know have gotten laser hair removal done and some non-invasive cosmetic surgery. That seems to be safe and very reasonably priced.
I am by no means a Pollyanna, I don't experience the world as rosy all the time. I also don't think the world around me is only full of dog poop ready for me to step in.  I take the good with the bad. Having this opportunity is a once in a lifetime experience. I really want to appreciate the positive aspects of this country, its culture and its people.

Coconut Rice Cartagena Style (one of my favorites)
1 mature coconut
2 cups long grain white rice
3 teaspoons sugar
2 teaspoons salt


1.Crack open coconut and use approx. 3/4 of white coconut meat and grate
2.Squeeze grated coconut to extract milk. When most liquid has been extracted add water to make 4 cups of coconut milk
3. Combine coconut milk, rice, sugar and salt in medium saucepan. Mix and bring to boil over high heat.
4. Turn heat down to low, cover and simmer for 20 minutes.
yum yum yum yum...........

On a Morning Walk...
My friend and I like to walk along the bay in the mornings. There are usually people jogging, pushing babies in strollers, rollerblading, bike riding or sitting on one of the many benches along the water. This morning while walking, my friend turned to me with a startled look on her face and said, "Did you see that?"
"See what?" I asked.
"That man. He is....masturbating," she whispered.
I said, "You've never seen that before? Geez, woman, I saw that more than once in New York City."
"I am going to tell the police over there." She said.
I said, "Aw, leave him be, I think he is done anyway."
She said, "Anyway, I will tell the policeman and he will just look at me and nod and not do anything."
She proceeded to tell the officer in fluent Spanish what she saw, again whispering the word that I think means masturbate. As she predicted, the officer looked at her and barely turned his head in the direction of the man on the bench she pointed to.
We continued our walk and the man was not there when I passed the bench again.
When I got home and told my husband, he laughed and said, "Really, people have told me that goes on a lot here, but I didn't believe them. Did you actually see him do it?"
I said, "Well, I didn't see him actually do anything, I only saw his face and my friend saw him. She told the officer."
At that my husband really started laughing, he said "What did he do?"
I said, "Well, he just looked in the direction she pointed and that was it. We just finished our walk and the guy left."

Experience Being in the Minority
My daughter, Leila, told me last night that one of her friends asked her if we had cars in New Hampshire. I was surprised and asked her why someone would ask her that, isn't it obvious that America has plenty of cars? Leila said her friend was being facetious. She was making fun of some of the questions she encountered when she went to a summer camp in the States. When she told people she was from Colombia, they would ask her questions like-"Are there cars in Colombia? Do you live in a jungle? Do you have a house?"
After hearing about this, Leila said, "Mom, I apologized to her for all those dumb people that asked her those stupid questions. It was embarrassing to hear that people behaved that way." 
I told her that when I was growing up, and my peers found out I was born in Egypt, they would ask if I was born in a pyramid and I was also asked if we had cars in Egypt.(I thought Americans were especially dumb with the pyramid question because no one was ever born in a pyramid, they were built as tombs. But, I digress)
I was glad that my daughter, who has not had many opportunities to understand what it means to be in the minority, is having these discussions and experiences with her Colombian peers. She has been socializing with other teenagers on the weekends. They primarily speak in Spanish when they socialize, a few of Leila's friends will translate for her during the conversation and one will only speak to her in English. I was worried that she would not want to continue socializing with the group because she doesn't understand all that is being said. However, I am glad to say, that she is not deterred from hanging out with her friends. She enjoys their company and I also think she will learn Spanish much faster that way.

Cartagena, Colombia (pics from my daughter's iTouch)

Monserrate Catholic Church Bogota, Colombia

Great link for authentic Colombian food recipes

http://www.mycolombianrecipes.com/

My Ideas About God, In Spanglish
My housekeeper asked me if I was Christian. She told me she is an Evangelical Christian and wanted to know if I was too. I told her that  what I believe in is one God who loves all. This sounds easy and in English, it is.
This conversation took place with two people who speak very little of the other's language. Hence, the conversation sounded something like this: (a note, please forgive the misspellings in Spanish, simply can't be helped and yes, I mixed both English and Spanish together in a sort of Spanglish of my own creation.)
Glenys (housekeeper)-"Mi, envanhalical christiano, et tu?"
Aisha-"Mi madre y mi padre Muslimo, pero, mi think Dios Amor Todo." (my parents are Muslim but I believe God loves all)
Glenys-"Oh, este bien."
Aisha-"Si, sometimes people say, 'mi christiano, pero...(here I mimed guns trying to illustrate conflict) Dio gusto paz in corazon." (Yes, sometimes people say they are Christian but are violent. God likes peace in the heart."
Glenys-"Si, tu bien. Dios y Jesus gusto paz."
Aisha-"Mejor y Hombre habla 'mi christiano' pero (here I mimed a cat with claws to again illustrate fighting and conflict. No offense to cats intended, by the way. Women and men say they are Christian but fight and then I mimed that is not good. Not sure to exactly describe that mime, but she seemed to understand my trying to explain hypocrisy.)

What was interesting about this exchange is that we were able to communicate about what can be complex issues with very few words and some hand gestures. Hypocrisy is universal and she seemed to understand my point that people can say they are anything, but actions speak louder than words.
I have conversations with my housekeeper all the time and they are always a combination of hand gestures and Spanglish, I think we both have fun with the exchanges and the best part is, we are learning each other's language, albeit slowly.

Cars and Dogs of Cartagena
While crossing the street anywhere in this city, I have noticed that cars speed up. Not just the cabs in a rush to take people places, I mean any and all cars. I have tried all kinds of strategies to prove to myself that I am imagining things. However, time and again, as soon as my foot hits the asphalt, it is as if a checkered flag has been waved. Off, they go, vrooooommm, and then it turns into a race between me and the car. Can I make it to the other side before the car has a chance to hit me?
Thankfully, each time I have made it to the other side. I have become very patient crossing the street and I become braver with a crowd. I figure if I am between at least two people, I have a better chance of a safe crossing.
Now, this brings me to the dogs of Cartagena. There are some adorable pooches here. I mean cute small dogs of all kinds, Yorkies, Pugs, Schnauzers, and Lhasa Apsos. There are also many stray dogs, which are actually also cute and tend to be small.
This morning while running along the bay, I saw a small stray dog start to cross the street and my heart was in my throat when I was thinking that the car coming would surely speed up and I would be witness to dog murder, when lo and behold, THE CAR STOPPED!!! I mean, the driver saw the dog, slowed and stopped to make sure the dog would not get hit.
Now, my first thought was relief that the driver was kind and did not want to harm an animal. My second thought was, seriously??? Dogs can get the attention and respect of car drivers in this city when humans can't???
Okay, when I thought about it, I realized that I haven't witnessed all that many dogs even try to cross a street. Humans on the other hand are constantly darting in and out of traffic. Maybe, drivers are desensitized to people.
I think I will get a dog and have it cross in front of me from now on.

Cold Shower...
One of the more troubling realities here is the discrepancy between rich and poor. I have read that at least half of Colombia's population lives in poverty. As with many developing nations, the rich are super rich and the poor or desperately poor. These are realities I can understand, even if I absolutely don't agree with them.
However, what I really can't understand is the consistent exploitation of the poor by the rich. For example, the apartment we live in was built for the wealthy who can afford beach side property. The apartment has air conditioning in every room, except the maid's room and the area where the washer and dryer are, presumably the area where the maid would work most of the day. I was so sad to see this. The temperatures here can reach one hundred with high humidity on any given day. Why make those who work to make the rich more comfortable, miserable? The group of people who work as domestic employees already live in abject poverty and get paid a minimum wage. Why not give them the benefit of air conditioning??? One of my pet peeves.
I am sure this is not only happening in Colombia. I have seen Egyptian domestic workers also being treated poorly.
The privileged in any country have a responsibility not to exploit those who did not happen to be born into wealth.

Hola!
I decided to write a blog to chronicle our family adventure here in Colombia. We moved here for a temporary period of time for a work assignment. We lived in New Jersey and New Hampshire before moving here this summer. My children had never been anywhere outside of the U.S. (except a cruise to Bermuda when they were young.)
We spent a week in Bogota to site see before heading to Cartagena, a coastal city, which is to be our home for the next few years.
First, it is hot here ninety percent of the time. The other ten percent it is either very warm or raining.
Second, if you are wondering where the title of this blog comes from here it is. The coffee and chocolate are the best I have ever had in my life. I mean, even "cheap" coffee and chocolate are outstanding. When I posted this on facebook, the Karma Fairy decided that bragging is not nice and has withheld hot and warm showers for me since. I know it is hot here and why do I want a hot shower anyway, well after sweating all day and especially after working out, it is better to wash off all the smelly bacteria with hot rather than cold water. But, I digress. Hence the name, coffee, chocolate and cold showers. So far all the great things we have encountered have outweighed the annoyances. I will keep you posted as often as I can. Peace, Aisha