The Ballers

 Last night, Federico, Brent and I headed off to the Anastasio Girardot sports complex to play some basketball. The green structure next to the stadium is one of the coolest buildings I've ever seen, having been designed to resemble the mountains that surround it. It's also completely open air, with little green gratings that resemble leaves in the jungle being used in place of walls. The courts there are really nice so I wasn't sure if we would be able to use them for long (if at all).

Luckily we met Edwin, who is assistant coach of the University of Antioquia Basketball Team and has access to use the courts whenever he wants. He was there with two players from the team. Not one of them could have been over 5 feet 5 inches. There were 9 of us, so they picked me to play with the three of them against the remaining five players. I was a little concerned at first, then the we got down to it. I've never run so hard during a game in my life. What these guys lacked in height, they made up with in skills and hustle. Their "run and gun" style was also supplemented by their excellent passing abilities. As I caught my second wind, they started to feed me great passes, which to my delight I actually played halfway decent. The highlight for me was getting (but just barely missing) an alley-oop pass from halfcourt from the assistant coach.

While all of us were hustling our butts off, these guys looked like they were just having fun. Brent and I noticed a fair amount of traveling with the ball though and had some problems recognizing the plays and directions shouted by the rest of the players. Guess we'll have to brush up on our Spanish basketball vocab because we're scheduled to play again next Tuesday. I have a theory that they like playing against us because despite our gaps in skill, we are still much taller than them and hence, a different type of 'challenge.' Though they will still manage to take us to school, hopefully we can practice up and give them a good game.

The Kid

There's a kid, maybe 10 years old who I ran into the first time I arrived in El Poblado in Janurary. He was in the corner with some of his wanna-be thug looking youngsters. "You want coke man?" He asked in poor English. After I turned him down he asked if I wanted a variety of other drugs including heroin. "Heroin?" I asked, (not doubting his or his buddies ability to find some) "who on earth does heroin?" "Old people." He quickly added: "rich old people." I noticed one of his buddies was also selling chicle so I asked how much. 5,000 pesos? No wonder they are selling drugs, they are charging 5 times as much as anyone else for chicle. But who am I to lecture them bad business, after all, these are youngsters from the poor hillside neighborhoods and must be making more money than their parents by selling drugs to gringos.

I bought the gum for 5,000 and headed off. However, the next night, the same kid, this time by himself found me and asked me if I wanted drugs again. "I like gum remember??" He then tried to sell me another 5,000 peso pack of gum. I told him that the price was a rip off and bargained him down to 3,000. Every single night I've gone out in El Poblado, this kid manages to find me, no matter where I am.  This time, he's actually schlepping around a big box of chewing gum and I also notice a tiny sun tattoo on his hand just below his thumb. I want to ask how he's doing, where he's from, does he live with his parents, etc. But I don't know that might be too much for him, especially in a place where most gringos like me he talks to just want drugs.

Everywhere else I've gone in Medellín, I've never been offered drugs. But the massive quantity of drug-seeking tourists that stay and party in Poblado create the demand-side economics of kids selling drugs there. At least I'm starting to notice a new inflow of tourists who are interested in the hundreds of other things to do in Medellín besides drugs. Until we start seeing more, I guess I'll continue to haggle over overpriced chicle with the Kid.

Colombians repping Team USA's run

First off, I have to say that being in a Latin American country during the World Cup an experience. Excited onlookers crowding into bars and cafes, huddled around tiny 8 inch TVs in little kiosks, cheering if only for their love of the sport. And this is in a country that didn't even make it into the tourney. I was shocked to see Colombians getting excited over a match between Japan and Cameroon, just because it's World Cup Soccer. 

Today's Colombian paper featured a headline reading: "Al minuto 91, E.U. cumplió sueño Americano" (at 91st minute the U.S. completes an American Dream). I couldn't think of a better way to describe it as I sat in a sports bar anxiously stabbing the remains of an "americano" omelette. Perhaps most suprising were the pack of Colombians supporting the U.S. team around me, sharing my frustration and subsequent joy when Landon Donovan propelled Team USA to victory.

I was a little surprised to see so many Colombians representing the Red White and Blue, but you can attribute that to the good relations between our two countries and the amount of Colombians that have lived in and visited the U.S. It will be interesting to see how many turn up to support against Ghana come Saturday as well as which side they choose in the Argentina/Mexico battle to follow. My prediction is that the less-than-savory sentiment held for Argentines throughout most of Latin America will have many Colombian's rooting against Maradona's squad. As for me, Argentina is like my 2nd team so of course, I'll be there, wearing blue and cheering the Abiceleste on to victory; of course after assuring that our boys make it through to the next round.

Can I be your Friend?

I’m discovering there are a lot more Colombian English speakers than I had previously thought. I mean your average upper-class, private university educated Colombian probably speaks better English than me. These people don’t surprise me, it’s the random security guard/cashier/chicle vendor that jump out at me when they recognize my accent and start speaking to me in English.

I met Javier the security guard (somewhat ironically) at the San Javier MetroCable. I asked for directions and to my delight he mistook me for one of the Uruguayan visitors to the South American Games. After learning I was from the US he practiced his surprisingly good English for about an hour as we talked about life there. At the end, he asked for my number, as he didn’t have money for and wanted to be able to call to practice his English. I told him I wasn’t a good teacher but he could call me anyways. He then called three times a week for the next month at times ranging from 7am to 9am in the morning before I finally cut him loose by recommending a free English class put on by a local English magazine.

Tonight while I was checking out at the supermarket, the cashier (Jovan) caught my accent and asked where I was from. When he found out it was the U.S. he began to tell me about an American friend of his which they used to practice their Spanish and English respectively before asking me if I had any Colombian friends. I said I had a few and Jovan replied: “Well if you don’t have too many, maybe you can be my friend and I can call you to practice English and you can do your Spanish!” At this point, the Colombians in line behind me were giving me the ‘ay un gringo’ stare despite Jovan’s interest in being my buddy. "So, what do you say man, can I be your friend?" I looked at the floor. Nothing personal Jovan, but the last person I gave my number to called me nonstop at inopportune moments.” 

The expression on his face looked like I had kicked his dog. There was really nothing more I could offer and I can’t help but feel for Colombians in his position; so eager to learn English but limited financially. Although this definitely highlights the need for the recently approved Peace Corps campaign of English education in Colombia, perhaps it will pave the way for more intercambios,’ where Spanish and English speakers come together to hone their language abilities. 

Back to Colombia

My postings lately have been so diminished due to the extended vacation time I spent in the U.S. It was interesting playing the tourist role in the US of A but I hadn't seen some places like New York and San Francisco for some time and had never taken the opportunity to enjoy the beauty of Highway 101 as it stretches from the giant redwoods of Northern California to the sleepy beach towns of the Oregon Coast.

In all it was a fantastic time back and I got to see ALMOST everyone I wanted to see. Thanks so much to my great friends for their wonderful hospitality for also giving me the experience I needed in my home country to prepare for so much time away from her. You can check out pictures from the trip below:

The Homeland

BorderLine Propaganda

In the wake of so many U.S. politicians (especially those in AZ) clamoring for greater "border security," it seems that the claim that Mexican drug violence is destabilizing the border regions is simply not true:

The top four big cities in America with the lowest rates of violent crime are all in border states: San Diego, Phoenix, El Paso and Austin, according to a new FBI report. And an in-house Customs and Border Protection report shows that Border Patrol agents face far less danger than street cops in most U.S. cities. 

From "AP Impact: US-Mexico border isn't so dangerous."

 I have colleagues who work closely with border issues who have often vented about how mainstream media often blows the Mexico violence issue completely out of proportion. In fact, my buddy Paul even took on the L.A. Times on its Mexico coverage and got into a little back and forth with their Mexico correspondent. Immigration reform is definitely an important issue that the Obama Administration will have to tackle in the near future. I think the upcoming November elections are reason enough to believe that fearmongering over Mexico, Mexican immigrants and the safety of our borders have more political motivation than anything else.