A New Colombi-Era

Bogotá to Barranquilla has proved a much easier transition than I anticipated. I was hopping public buses without a second thought and recognizing landmarks by day three. I’ve grasped the fact that west is “north” and east is “south,” 25 blocks is far and places are generally walkable, even if not many people walk. There’s a deceitful, delightful breeze leftover from December and I’m trying not to get used to the perfect weather before humidity, aggressive downpours and oppressive heat set in.  I fit in here, physically, more easily than I had thought. Maybe I’m just dressing right and not talking much because I’ve been mistaken for Colombian a few times already and I am not complaining. It also helps that there are hardly any tourists around to mix things up. Also no complaints on that point.

My job has fallen into something of a rhythm where I feel like I know what I’m doing and what might lie ahead. As far as the living part of life…I’m still digging around and swearing at suitcases but I might…might have what’s considered a permanent residence (at least in my terms, which isn’t saying much) in a day or two.

The city is vibrant and buzzing with Carnaval anticipation, supposedly (factually?) the second largest after Rio. There are decorations on houses, in taxis, all over the malls, sparkling from balconies and windows, decaled on cars and dangling from streetlights. Depending on who you ask, Carnavales are here, they’re coming or they never end, but the calendar stakes out February 9th-12th, officially. I’m more than excited to throw myself into the mix of culture, noise and colors.

There’s a lot more to be said and seen about my new home. The sunshine helps a lot but I’m not lying when people ask how I feel here and I answer contenta.

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