February 10-23 A City of Taxis

Wow! Where did the past two weeks go? Our time is FLYING and we have so many things yet to accomplish. Monday comes around and before we know it, it's Friday. Our daily activities are becoming more and more routine as we get organized and I can only remember what to write about if I jot down some notes as I go along.

Monday. Let’s talk about dogs. Colombians love their dogs. As we were waiting for our taxi to arrive this morning, we saw the “dog walker”. We have seen him several times before, but this time my camera was handy and I managed to get a picture. We commonly see other dog walkers in various parts of the city doing the same thing. So there must be lots of willing clients. And we see NO cats. Ever. Feivel Mousekewitz should have come to Colombia.

The Dog Walker

Tuesday. As I have mentioned before, there are a lot of taxis in Bogota (maybe 50,000 official and 10,000 unregistered). There are mostly very small with lots of miles on them - think 350,00 to 400,000. This morning we had a very rough ride in one with more miles than normal. It didn’t feel like there was much between you and the road. We were near our destination when we noticed something in the road ahead. Did I mention that the streets of Bogota are also full of potholes? As we stopped for a light next to the object in the road, we noticed that someone had tried to lessen the jarring by stuffing a mattress in the hole. We wondered aloud how long that would last.

The Average Taxi

Taxi Fight

License and Fare Chart on the Back of Every Passenter Seat

Yes, That is a Mattress

Mike had a sorrowful afternoon, as his computer finally gave up its pixels and died. Last night he had a premonition (it had been overheating) and decide to download all of his files onto an external hard drive JUST IN CASE. Was he ever glad he did that. Tender mercies. Once the monitor went, it would have been difficult and a time-consuming effort to recover them. Whew, dodged a bullet. So we left for home early and headed to technology row on Carrerra 14 between Calle 70 and 80. There you can find hundreds of small businesses engaged in all facets of technology. It is an amazing place. As we mentioned in a prior post, they even recycle computers at sidewalk booths. Fortunately, the intense competition drives prices down to near-U.S. levels. Unfortunately, we had failed to realize that 98% of the computers sold in Colombia come with Latin keyboards. Mike did not want an ~ over his n’s. Five hours and three near-sales later, he finally found what he wanted and we then went through the agonizingly slow process that comes with buying anything of high value. We were tired and ready for sleep when we finally slumped into bed. Now he has to learn Windows 8!

Is There a Spirit World For Laptops?

Wednesday. The taxi interiors here are always decorated with various religious artifacts or other personal items. It is fun to see each day what each driver has used to personalize his ride. They also sometimes push the driver’s seat way back so it almost touches the back seat. We have a personalized ritual of our own. We always get in the taxi from the back passenger door. I get in first and slide to the left. Then Mike gets in and puts his backpack between us - so I have to deal with the driver’s seat. The driver always puts the front passenger seat leaning forward, so Mike gets the most room (still very little). While Mike gives the directions, I note the license plate number and driver's name in my iPhone (the list is growing and we have only had one repeat driver). We always note if the driver does the Catholic “cross” at the cemetery (there IS a correlation between this and the number of Catholic icons in the taxi interior). I always pay at the end and we always exit from our corresponding side doors. While I search for the correct bills, Mike manages to practically fall out into the street as he extracts himself from the back seat. Then he usually opens the other door for me on the driver’s side. We always close the doors very softy - for some reason they are very sensitive about that.

Adorned Taxi

Thursday. When we cleaned up the office last month, we found MANY keys of various sizes in drawers and almost everywhere you could imagine. One of our volunteers spent several hours today trying them in the locks one by one. We found exactly TWO that opened something. 

The Unknown Keys

Friday, the 14th, we enjoyed another stay at our beloved Bogotá J.W. Marriott Hotel down the street. The occasion was Valentine’s Day. Shortly after arriving in the room, we heard a knock at our door. It was the hotel delivering a long-stemmed red rose to all their guests for “El Dia de Amor”. At the time of this writing, twelve days later, the rose looks as beautiful as it did that day. Fresh flowers here are REALLY fresh, since they come from fields right outside the city (many of the flowers sold in the U.S. also come from Colombia). In the restaurant, we enjoyed a lovely buffet served up for the American holiday that has gone mundial. Since the locals never eat before 6:00 p.m., we had the place to ourselves. They had a “cazuela bar” where you could pick the seafood you wanted in your soup. That was a first. We ate too much.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!

The Marriott Restaurant

The Dessert Bar

The Chef Takes Us for a Tour

Valentine's Day Salute

Saturday. We actually got a late check-out time of 4:00 p.m., so we spent 24 delightful hours in hotel heaven. The shower is much better than ours, with pressure and plenty of water, so we kept taking showers! The room was so well insulated that none of the usual street noise entered. I guess this is why we slept until 9:45 a.m.! It was a beautiful balmy evening in Bogota (balmy for here anyway) and Mike went out on our deck and got some interesting pictures of the night clouds reflecting the light of the city. As we looked down, we saw the recyclers hard at work going through the garbage across the street. They know the garbage pickup schedules and strip the cans and sacks of anything that can be exchanged for cash. 

The Recyclers

Night Clouds

Sunday.A quiet Sabbath day spent in our home ward. We both took long naps in an attempt to recover our energy for the long week ahead.

One of my more embarrassing moments is all I remember from Monday, the 17th. Hermana Amaya came into our office in the afternoon and offered us some sort of sweet treat. The little sugared goodies looked just like cinnamon donut holes (they were actually something made from the tamarind fruit and tasted nothing like donuts or sugar). I felt a sugar rush just looking at them, so I graciously took one and popped it into my mouth. As my teeth came together, I knew I had made a grave error. I should have remembered my Latin American dessert rule -"if it looks delicious, DON'T eat it!" Mike was watching me out of the corner of his eye, as he had already chewed into his and knew how I would react. I waited for Hermana Amaya to leave the office so I could empty my mouth, but she began chatting with Mike. I held the thing in my mouth as long as I could stand it trying not to let my saliva churn. When I felt the gag reflex starting to kick in, all I could think of were the words from Revelations 3:16, "I will spew thee out of my mouth." I took a piece of paper and quietly prepared to spit the thing out. Just as I did, Hermana A. turned around to say something and caught me in the act. Whoops! Luckily, she laughed, but I felt so bad! (Four days later she brought in a "ball" for us to eat which appeared to be a delicious-looking spherical, deep-fried donut three inches in diameter. When she mentioned it was filled with cheese, I hesitated. Remember the great cheese hunt from previous posts? Most Latin cheese really makes me gag, but she stood in front of my desk eagerly waiting for me to take a bite. I did and faked a convincing, "Yummm!" Luckily for me, she left the office and I repeated the paper spit. Keeping the thing on my desk, I slowly cut bites from it so it appeared that I was eating it. Instead each bite went covertly into the bathroom and disappeared with a flush.

Mike Eating the Cheese Ball

Tuesday. Mike had the great idea to buy some squid and slice it up and deep fry it. The only problem was what to coat it with. After choosing between the whole octopus and the squid wings (we bought the wings), he decided to cook the pieces in pancake batter. To make a long story short, that recipe is not going in the keeper file.

Hmmm.....Octopus or Squid Wings?

Wednesday, the 19th, our phone finally got programmed to make long distance calls and Mike called his mother and I called my sister, Marianne, to wish her a Happy Birthday. Marianne and Scott are building a second home in Heber, UT, so she was there keeping tabs on the progress. It will be so fun to have them there, because it is only about 40 minutes from Mike's mom's house in Morgan, where we visit often. I had my next to the last hair appointment. It was time, as Mike had commented several days earlier, "Boy, you are really getting gray." Maybe he thought I hadn't noticed even though I look at myself in the mirror every morning. It will be nice to get back the soft fingers of my beloved hairdresser, Tara, who makes shampooing a relaxing massage instead of a hair-pulling, torture technique. Mike had a nice nap during the process and he woke up to a younger-looking wife.

Thursday, was the first day of our long-awaited Open House for the Centro de Autosuficiencia. We have been cleaning, painting, dejunking, grouting, replacing broken furniture, cleaning floors and windows, and working hard for six weeks to get ready for the event. Mike bought yellow daisies that  adorned the reception area as a finishing touch and the place looked great.

The Open House

Friday. Since all our CAS/PEF missionaries worked until 7:00 p.m. for the Open House, I volunteered to provide almuerzo (lunch), which is the main meal for the day. Our apartment has a crock pot, so I decided to make Taco Soup. It would be easy to transport by taxi, since could cook the meat beforehand and then take all the rest of the ingredients in their cans. It was a good idea and things were going according to plan until I discovered that I left the meat at home in the refrigerator. Everyone was so busy with our Open House guests, that I didn't want ask anyone to go back home with me. Feeling brave, so I took a taxi home and back all by myself. This meant I had to communicate the address and directions in Spanish, asking the driver to wait while I ran up to the 6th floor and grabbed what I needed. I apparently succeeded, as he was waiting for me when I came back down. The taxi driver and I actually engaged in conversation most of the way back to the office and he was very sweet, complementing me on my Spanish. Mike apparently was beginning to get worried at about the 30-minute mark, so he had Pilar call to see where I was. At that point, I was within five minutes of the office, so all was good.

KR Serving Lunch

Our Elaborate Open House Refreshments

Several times on the daily ride home, we have passed an interesting small business venture - the "Rim Man." (our moniker). This entrepreneur has made a business of collecting hubcaps that pop off wheels. With all the potholes on the streets, it happens ALOT! He pulls his large cart along the road attaching the hubcaps one by one to his cart. By the end of each day, he has accumulated a decorative stack about six-feet high. I assume he takes them home, cleans them, and then resells them, probably to the original owners!

Saturday afternoon, a neatly dressed young woman entered the office and I welcomed her to the Open House. Hermana Amaya took her on a little tour, then showed her into our office. The day before, this woman's husband walked out, leaving her with five children (ages 13 years down to 3) and an impending apartment eviction. She shared that she had come today because she couldn't cry in front of her children and then the tears began to flow. Mike gently talked with her about her options and reminded her that she belonged to a church that would never abandon her. They discussed the necessity of finding a job now to at least provide food for her family. He advised her to talk with her bishop tomorrow so a plan could be made to help get her through the immediate crisis. So many people have such difficult challenges (we see them daily) and we must all be willing to help when and where we can. We definitely are our brother's keeper.

It was an enjoyable three days of explaining to members, the general public and church leaders what we have to offer them. They were of all types - church leaders coming to see what tools are available to help their members, people looking for work, others hoping to start their own businesses, and students interested in the Perpetual Education Fund . We have a list of 15 persons for the Auto-Empleo (self-employment) workshop and about 20 have signed up for the Taller de Planificacion para el Excito (Planning for Success). Mike and I will teach the latter workshop, which is required for all PEF students. When we announce the actual dates and times, we expect to have a flood of people sign up, since lots of new people will be excited to begin the program. Changes in the PEF program (one being the former age limit of 30 years is now gone) will result in many more applicants, so we expect to be very busy. The people over thirty are very excited for the opportunity to further their education. We also learned today that we may be heading over to Medellin and Barranquilla to train new CAS/PEF missionaries and volunteers in those offices. Looking at the calendar, we will be running to the very end of our time here. 

Open House Guests

Mike Hard at Work

Late Saturday Evening

Our taxi ride home from the office took an unusual turn. We left about 7:00 p.m. and five minutes into the ride, the taxista pulled off the road to look at his tire, which he discovered was losing air. Night had descended and the roads were dark. He drove a ways further, until he found a tire shop open. When I say "tire shop", think a little hole-in-the-wall space with stacks of tires out front on the sidewalk and a few hubcaps and rims hanging on the walls. The driver asked the employees if they had some air, but they had turned their compressor off for the day. He drove another half a block, crossing over three lanes of traffic and turned left onto a one-way street, stopping at another similar tire shop (remember from previous posts that all the stores selling the same things congregate in the same area). This place gave him a no go also, but suggested going to the place we just left or one across the main road we had just turned from. Backing up the one-way street, the driver then proceeded to continue backing around the corner onto the main road from which we just turned left. He was intent on crossing to the other side of the road in order to turn right, while we sat hostage in the back seat of this little taxi going diagonally backwards across three lanes of traffic. I kept telling Mike we should get out and catch another taxi, but he didn't think the neighborhood was the kind where two gringos should stand on a street corner in the dark of night trying to catch a taxi. The funny thing was that our driver never said a word to us during the entire ordeal - never asked if he could get another taxi for us or never apologized for the inconvenience - not one word. He finally found a shop that offered to help him change the tire. As the very small car rose into the air with us in it, Mike and I sat looking at each and smiled, shaking our heads. We finally made it home an hour later and he casually took our money as if nothing had happened.

Sunday's are always happy days, as we get to be with our ward family. It really felt like family today when one little five-year-old threw her arms around me and said, "Grandma!" I melted, picked her up and gave her a big hug, and closed my eyes for a moment to imagine it was one of our grandchildren. Mike walked back to the family's bench a few minutes later to say hi and the little one said, "It's Grandpa and he's a big grandpa!" After church, we kept getting hugs and loves from the other children in the family (they are Americans and the father works in the American Embassy). They have finally dropped the word "fake" from our title, so now we are just "Grandpa" and "Grandma". A young couple from the U.S. visited our ward today. When I asked what brought them to Colombia, they shared that they came to volunteer at an orphanage to celebrate their fifteenth wedding anniversary. "It sounded like more fun than laying on a beach somewhere." Wow! Thank you, kind people!