REFLECTION 1: Lisboa.Bogotá/BUSES

Here I begin my reflections on the past 2 years of living, working and loving in Colombia.

My writing on this blog is more cathartic than anything, however if you (anyone) read it, I'd be happy to share, and discuss. It's challenging putting it into one reflection, so I am going to break it up into stories to try to make sense of it all. If you read it, enjoy--- and remember that it is only one person's experience of a huge beautiful diverse country.

REFLECTION 1: Lisboa.Bogotá/BUSES

I had to take the transmilenio to the portal de la 80 then transfer to an alimentador then transfer to a buseta- over an hour each way. Sometimes I rode my bike* (see other post re: bike- 50 minutes each way). When I got off the bus, I walked down the street, in between the dog shit, and human shit on the sidewalk, the trash from days before, and got to the market street with the Centro Musical on it. It was filled with the vendors just putting our their goods: everything was sold- from fresh fish on a bed of ice to cow tongue to veggies and fruit and cut up salads and hot corn arepas (kinda like tortillas but fatter, a yummy alternative that is very well loved in Colombia and Venezuela) with eggs. Normally I ran into one or 2 kids in the market with their siblings and maybe their mothers. I'd enter the center musical where I taught choir (in one location, when it rained, the water came down through a hole in the roof, the other location was in the community library, much better, but still nowhere near 'acceptable rehearsal space' according to gringa standards). When I entered the Centro Musical and began the rehearsal (usually with the 3 kids that showed up on time, the others filtered in slowly during the first hour of class) all the exterior problems and challenges it took to get there went away. All of a sudden, I'm dealing with just any normal choir/group of kids, who sure, is incredibly unstabilized and reactive to anything they take personally and who have big huge incredibly intense challenges in pretty much every area of their lives- but who are so resilient. RESILIENT. That word has come up so many times since I have been here. They truly are resilient- that they keep surviving and they keep living, with smiles on their faces, after the shit they have seen and been through before the age of 9- it's truly incredible. I mean these kids have seen things I hope to never see in my lifetime, and lived things that are beyond my imagination. And the fact is is that, although many may not have eaten much or at all that day, they come to the CM with a smile, give me a huge kiss on the cheek (custom) and are ready to try pretty much anything. They respond always to:
CONSISTENCY and
LOVE
1. These kids wanted to know that I wasn't one of the many adults who were going to leave them with out explanation. They wanted to know I was gonna show up. And they were supposed to show up too. They wanted to know I wasn't going to hit them one day, then hug them the next. They wanted to know that I was going to be a rock in their crazy swirling river for a little while at least. This is the consistency I am talking about.
2. They, like all kids, want healthy, real love and attention from adults. Love is how they survive. Really- it's the main thing they need and sometimes get. They want and yearn for attention- so any adult that walks along and gives it to them- within a few rehearsals, you have them eating out of your hand.

As always, the reason I couldn't continue wasn't the kids. It's never the kids. The kids are why I was there in the first place. The kids and their families are the most lovely organic, warm group of humans I have yet to work with. It is not them at all. The reason I resigned from teaching choir in the CM Lisboa was simply: the commute and challenges within the huge organisation that is Batuta of Bogotá. Not the kids. /buses