I decided today I must never grow old

I decided today I must never grow old. I came to this realization as I was sitting in my staff meeting...where I was the only person under 30. Let me back track a little and tell you about my job...

My title is: Campus and Community Non-profit Partnerships Technology Coordinator. A mouthful, eh? When people ask me what I do I always give very ambiguous responses, I guess because I'm still figuring it out. Basically, a team made up of a professor, a civic engagement coordinator on campus, and a guy from the community who runs a non-profit won a grant to create and implement a program pairing university resources (mainly students) with Dane County non-profits specifically to facilitate technology support. And that is as far as we are...we have the grant, we've made up a team of representatives from Dane County non-profits, and we plan on pursuing our goals through community-based research and surveying, holding a seminar for UW-students in the spring, etc. etc. we're still figuring it out.

The reason I can't grow old though, is because in this meeting it seemed like once you hit about age 35 you just talk so damn slow, ALL the time. I know I am often accused of speaking at warp speeds...but c'mon. We spent an hour and a half at the meeting! If the entire meeting would have been conducted at my talking speed, we would have been in and out of there in 20 minutes. And not only was it slow talking...because slow talking can be nice--you think "oh, at a speed where it leaves opportunities for people to jump in and give their 2 cents," right? Wrong! This group had it perfectly choreographed that the last word of someone, was the first of the next. I was trying my hardest not to yawn.

In other news: I'm excited because there is a Colombian human rights speaker coming to Madison on October 10th.
http://www.news.wisc.edu/14195 (I still can't place links in the text of my blog when I use the browser Safari on my mac: stupid. But, I am in web design class right now, and we're learning how to handcode html, so I'm pretty sure my blog is going to be ridic in no time at all: cool)

And finally, I have a shout out for Frank D. I always thinks it's cool when people I don't know read my blog! However, Frank D I also have advice for you....your last post told me that it's been 3 years since you left Colombia and you still knew when you had left to the minutes...so what are you waiting for? Go back already! And then write a blog...so we can read all about YOUR adventures.

:)

Whirlwind

Well, I knew it would be out of control crazy busy when I got back to the states, but maybe not this busy. It's September 17th and I'm still working on getting all of my things in order. The sudden challenge of needing to keep "United States time," has not proved to be easy...granted I didn't really do a very job before I left either.

When I was leaving Colombia I felt like I was actually ready to leave, although I think that was mainly attributed to my coastal sickness and all of the problems I encountered with my visa. But now, it makes not even 3 weeks that I've been home, and I want to be back in Colombia. When people used the phrase home sickness, I had never really identified with the sickness part. When I went off to summer camp, etc. I would really miss my family, my brother and sisters, and friends, but I wasn't sick over it. I guess right now I am experiencing my first bout of, well I guess just sickness, in a way that your body yearns to be somewhere else. Maybe we can call it home sickness, because I can't see my life without it including Colombia as my home for at least a little bit more somewhere along the line.

I find myself thinking in Spanish, "seeing" my Colombian friends walking down the street, and turning merengue music on only to dance around my room solita :( I miss the warmness of the people, the place, and the word "tranquila." I miss laughter being acceptable always and everywhere, and not seen as an outburst, but rather as a suggestion for others to follow. I remember Lucas always saying that gringos were crazy...and I think he's right, they're crazy not because they act crazy, but because they can be so uptight and unfriendly--never would an estadounidense Marta (see earlier blog) call me after meeting me for 30 seconds on the metro...and the reason is not because we don't have a metro in Madison.

Ohhh Medellin, Paisas, Colombia-- how I miss thee!