Day-to-Day Life in Colombia

10 May 2015 - Sunday

I've been wanting to describe the place I live here (or places, rather, given the extensive traveling we do). First, despite the fact that this part of Colombia (the Caribbean coast) rarely dips below 90% humidity and 75°F (hotter during the day), air conditioning is a rare thing. It's most a function of income, of course – that's a huge monthly expense and a big drain on an already stretched power distribution system – but some people here genuinely dislike it. They've grown to love the heat, tolerate the sweat, and take cold showers when it gets to be too much. I, however, will be glad to have air conditioning, cooler nights, and varying seasons back in the states.

The normal flow of water from

a Colombian showerhead.

At any rate, no air conditioning means fans are on constantly. Also, all houses are open to the air (cracks under the doors, holes under the eaves, windows in inside rooms) to allow for as much airflow as possible. That means houses get more bugs and dust than in the US, which rules out the possibility of carpet or many cloth furnishings. Furthermore, out in the countryside, running water and electricity are technically installed but go out often, especially the water, meaning we shower
with buckets or bowls much of the time (and wash dishes, etc.). Even if the shower does work, it's rarely a shower head – just a normal stream of water. And always cold – it's too hot here to be worth heating the water, even in the city. Finally, water here is rarely filtered so foreigners like me have to buy filtered water by the bottle (or by the bag, a common thing here).

It's hardly a complete description of living conditions here, but it's as close as I will get to trying. Just know that I am almost always hot and at least a bit damp.

Today I also made the long trip from Lani's little town back to Sincelejo. I started on motorcycle taxi, but halfway to our first destination we felt the beginnings of a torrential downpour. Luckily the driver was wise enough to pull over to a small shelter which housed over two dozen people like us, travelers escaping the rain – most were talking, half-heartedly gambling on a few old tables, or staring glumly out at the rain (see right). On the other hand, I was thrilled. It had been weeks since I wasn't hot and wet, and now I was at least cold and wet. We finished the drive as the storm turned to a drizzle, which left me soaked and a bit colder but still happy. The country was beautiful in the rain, and the post-storm climate was the least humid it's ever been during my time here. From that destination I caught a bus back into Sincelejo, and settled in for at least one night back "home."

On the way I was thinking about the pace of life in Latin cultures, especially rural. Anyone who knows me has probably noted that I like to move at a hundred miles an hour whenever I can, stretching myself thin and overcommitting myself to get as much done as possible. Latin people think that's crazy, at least many of be Mexicans and Colombians that I've spent time with. In Mexico I learned to tolerate the different way of life, starting meetings late and waiting for friends and rescheduling appointments as needed. But I didn't let it go through me – when I returned to the states, I quickly adopted the same hectic schedule as before. This time around I've been forced to reconsider that posture and make sure it is (1) healthy and (2) genuinely good in the long run. I was talking with a friend who lived her childhood in this slow-paced coastal region and her college/post-college years in faster-paced Bogotá, and she mentioned the unfortunate habit of many people with fast-paced lives to focus on products rather than people. It's a familiar attitude in economics, where labor is often reduced to a variable on par with with utilities or cost of materials. And that is not the way I want to see the world. So first, as far as the health part goes, I think there is something to be said for slowing down. But I am often much more fulfilled and emotionally healthy when I am "anxiously engaged in a good cause." If I also manage to sleep enough during those times, I usually feel physically great as well (or no worse than average). So as long as I pay attention to my emotional and physical well-being, I'm not too worried about the health of a rushed life.

The view on the way home to Sincelejo.

The issue of caring more about products more than about people is, however, a bigger one. There is certainly a balance to be achieved here – we must always care about people AND get things done. Indeed, not getting enough done can actually hurt a community in the long run. So the question I must ask myself is whether I am sufficiently watching out for people as I strive to get things done, or, on the other hand, if I need to take a page out of the Latin American book and care more about people. I certainly do a better job of that when there is less on the line – here with SembrandoPaz, I feel like I've been very relaxed and easy on the people I work with because I don't have to prove myself here. On the other hand, with school or work projects (especially in consulting case competitions) I have been less forgiving because jobs are on the line. During school, I often work from morning tonight on weekdays, though I have made a pretty regular habit of taking time out of my evenings if someone needs it. Weekends are much better – dates or friends Fri/Sat nights, usually some activity Saturday (sometimes schoolwork), visiting and worship on Sundays. You know, I feel pretty comfortable with that. It's not community-centric like the lives of people here, but it's allowed me to maintain some incredible relationships while achieving some very important goals. I will have to find a new balance during consulting – especially since weekdays will be even less free than during school – but I don't think I'm on the wrong track. I suppose I can only hope.