Chapter 31: Flashes of light

The conversation with Chris did not go as planned.

Perhaps neither of us were in the right frame of mind for such. After all, we were in a phase. Kinda hard to describe phase, but suffice to say all the partying I didn’t do as a rebellious teenager, Chris and I were doing now. Drug fueled debauchery and then it’s off to save the tiny humans. Even I can’t suspend disbelief long enough to believe that this is now my life.

Call rooms aren’t just for sleeping. Or adrenaline fueled sex. The amount of coke I’ve consumed in the call room isn’t none. And my own twisted thoughts say –well, if you’re going to overdose on drugs, at least you’re in a hospital. It’s far more comfortable than the street. If that’s not mental, then what is?

AND it was one of those days where I [probably we, but definitely I] had had too much cocaine, too much adrenaline fueled sex, and not enough vodka when I told Chris that I was accepted to medical school and I had accepted my acceptance.

“Why are you telling me this now? How long have you known? When did you even apply? Fuck, Liza…I don’t even know you any more”

“Whose fault is that? You are the one who has been missing in action while hiding in plain sight since your sister died. And I get it, you two were close. She was part of you and now that’s gone. I don’t know how else to help you grieve. And I’m almost positive that you’re doing a lot more of this than you let on.”

“You haven no idea. You have no one. Not a sibling and especially not a twin. You can’t imagine. And fuck you. I still go to work and take care of patients so who the fuck cares what I do in my off time.”

“But you’re not exactly off when we’re getting high in the call room bathroom. And then fucking for hours. And I can’t exactly reach you when you’re off. And you know what, I don’t do any of this when I’m back home. Only when I’m with you. So maybe that’s the answer. I can’t help you. You can’t help yourself. So when you evidently overdose, I hope it’s where someone finds you in time, because I am done. With all of this.”

My head was swirling with rage. And adrenaline; And too much cocaine. It didn’t help that the hospital hallway lights were motion-detected,, and that every step caused another light to turn on. Then off.. Then on again. My only saving grace is that the call room is near medical offices and medical offices are generally deserted at 1am so no one saw me leave.

“Liza, wait.” Chris followed me to the parking lot.

“What the fuck do you want? I came here to share my good news, and not only did you try to rain on my parade, you tried to cancel it all together.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do”

“You need to get yourself together. Or you’re going to lose a lot more than me. I can’t be around this. Or you when you’re like this. Call me when you figure things out.”

I got into my car and pulled away. In the distance I could see the purple electrical storm dimly lighting up the dark night sky.

 

 

Chapter 30: Pale Green Stars

I woke up, choking for air, strangling even. When I opened my eyes, all I she saw were the pale, green stars on the ceiling and walls. It reminded my of my childhood bedroom. Where am I? I thought. Certainly not in my childhood bedroom I answered myself.

I looked around, my eyes trying to focus, but the blinding headache prevented any kind of focus. Everything looked hazy–like my eyes had a film over them. I briefly wondered if it was worth it to get out of bed and look for ibuprofen. I decided it was. And also water. My throat felt as if I hadn’t had any water in years.

Naked, I  climbed out of bed and went towards the bathroom. Where was I? Everything looked vaguely familiar, yet not. I shielded my eyes from the morning sun daring to enter through a gap in the curtains. Where the fuck was I? And what the fuck happened that I can’t remember anything.

There was a lump in the bed. Oh, there’s someone else here too. Maybe they know what happened.

I made my way to the bathroom. I was definitely not in. my house. There was no ibuprofen where there should be ibuprofen. But I did find a bottle of oxycodone. HMMM, I’ve never taken oxy before, I thought to myself. Maybe it will help, I thought. I struggled with the orange prescription vial but managed to open the child-resistant top after a momentary struggle.

Still naked, I made my way to the kitchen. I swallowed the pill and chased it with a mouthful of wine from a bottle that I don’t remember having last night. What the actual fuck happened last night? I thought again. I looked around the kitchen and it was a mess. 6 empty wine bottles lay strewn around. An empty bottle of vodka lay sideways, mocking me, or at least I thought it was. There was a small bowl of pills, another small bowl of herbs, and some powdery residue in various places in the kitchen. For the umpteenth time, I wondered what the actual fuck happened last night. Oh, and where was I?

Suddenly conscious that I was still naked, I made my way back to the bedroom, looking for clues in each direction. My clothes were everywhere–down the hall, in the bed, on the floor. I gathered them up and attempted to put myself together. I remembered that my throat was still parched. After putting on clothes, I went back to the kitchen and filled up a somewhat dirty but the cleanest cup I could find with water.

Twenty minutes later, the warm, lightheaded feeling with a twinge of nausea arrived. The narcotic wave.

I pulled the covers back and discovered Chris was the naked figure in the bed, Well, I guess that’s good, I thought to myself. At least if I’m going to drown in debauchery, it’s with my boyfriend. I walked back through the house trying to figure out where I was. Through process of elimination I realized I wasn’t in my apartment or Chris’s house. I still had no idea where I was or how I got there.

I tapped Chris on the shoulder and he grumbled “oh my fucking god, what!”

“Chris, where are we? What happened last night?”

“You don’t remember? Oh my god, you were amazing”

I stopped asking questions as I’m not sure I wanted to know anymore. I could piece together that there was sex involved. And drugs. And alcohol. I don’t even think I want to know anything more.

I focused on the pale green stars, the kind that would glow in the dark if it were dark.

“Chris, I was accepted to medical school, and I’ve decided that I’m going to do it”

 

 

 

Chapter 28: Unemployed Boyfriend

Chris and I were hanging out at the house and the conversation turned to the future. As it does after dating someone for 2-ish years. So far the biggest hang-up in our relationship is the living apart thing. We are close enough to visit regularly and both have alternative schedules that allow for long blocks of time off instead of just being in a weekend relationship.

“Do you want me to move in with you”

I feel the color drain out of my face. A thousand questions rushed through my mind. What does this mean? I mean we had talked about moving to the same city, but nothing serious. And definitely not about moving in together.

Chris noticed that I suddenly went mute.

“It’s not like I’d be your unemployed boyfriend or anything. I’d get a job. I mean first I’d have to get a license, but after that, definitely a job”

“Where’s this coming from?” I asked Chris because we had never even mentioned moving in together.

“well, your lease in up in about 3 months, correct?” I nodded in the affirm. “You are going to have to move, correct?” Another nod. “So why not us move somewhere together.”

Why not indeed?

Perhaps before Chris uproots his life and moves states for me I should tell him I’ve been accepted to medical school.

Everclear: Unemployed Boyfriend

Peace Corps Interview

Interviews are not my favorite thing. Now coming from someone who has blogged for 10+ years this next statement may seem a bit out of context.  I don’t really like talking about myself.  I don’t like tooting my own horn, and I really don’t like talking about ‘failures’.

Any interview can be daunting, but getting ready for my Peace Corps interview [something I really, really want] can be down right scary. Here’s my secret confession:  this was my second Peace Corps interview.  The first one, for Lesotho, did not go very well. Part of it was because I was dead tired –coming off a 24-hour call shift where I’d worked 16 of those hours, and leaving for a trip only a couple hours later.  I was barely coherent, and I’m sure that came across as disinterest [which to some degree was true].  Part of it was deep down, I knew that I did not want to go to Lesotho to serve as a healthy youth volunteer. So of course I was disappointed when I didn’t receive an invitation to Lesotho, but I was also relieved. I knew that I would try again so when I received that email that said I had not been selected I set about applying again… the very same day.

In my second application I was a lot more selective. I chose a specific sector–health– and three specific countries–Madagascar, Guyana, and Tanzania [I think]. On my previous application I’d selected go anywhere and do anything. I learned that I really wouldn’t go anywhere and do anything.

So when I found out I’d been selected for an interview for Madagascar, I gave myself 36 hours to prepare. Too long, and I’d stress out. It had only been six months since my original application and two months since the resubmitted one. So in Peace Corps’ world, not long at all. The key to any interview is preparation, and while I’m far from an interview expert, I know that following certain steps will make your interview go smoother. I think it also helped that I had just finished my leadership and management class where a large chunk of our grade was interviewing for a fictional leadership job via webcam. That experience, while harrowing at the time, was invaluable practice for me feeling somewhat more comfortable interview and talking via webcam. I didn’t have that experience on the first go round, and while I don’t think the outcome would have been different, and know absolutely that I was 100% more comfortable the second go round.

So  here’s is what I’ve determined…

Practise is important

Not just knowing your answers to potential questions, but really practicing interviewing on a webcam. Grab a friend, google ‘peace corps interview questions’, have friend ask you said questions, and record yourself answering them on a webcam. Then watch it.  It may be painful, but the feedback is invaluable. I would not have known this had not for that assignment for class where I had to record an actual interview.

Display professionalism

From the moment you create a Peace Corps account to the moment you receive an invitation, be nothing but professional Every time I contacted someone within the Peace Corps, I was polite and ready. For my interview, I chose a nice jacket in a bright color–something I’d call business casual ; it’s an outfit that I’d worn to an actual work meeting.  I had on pants [you know, in case the laptop fell, or someone came to the door, or the cat started acting up and I needed to open the patio door]. I dressed like I was attending a professional meeting.  My theory, treating the interview like a face to face meeting signals the brain to act like its a face-to-face meeting.  Being over-prepared is much better than being under prepared.

When I got the request for invitation, I opened my laptop and replied to avoid the unprofessional reply-from-a-cell-phone-email.  

Research the country

The application process gives applicants the opportunity to choose a country BEFORE the invitation [queue groans from old school RPCV] so use that time to gather info. You can choose three countries so research them all. Unless you are the ‘I’ll go anywhere’ person, you should research the countries you’ve selected. Google the country. Look up the current events. Find recent blogs from current and past volunteers and read the entire blogs from start to finish. Try to discover what there is to like about the country, what challenges you may face, and why you want to go there. Even if you want to risk it and not do those things, at least read the assignment description so that you’ll be doing. Know something about the county, its climate, infrastructure, and culture. During my interview, I mentioned that I was excited to go to Madagascar because of its incredible biodiversity. I mentioned the plant and animal life. I wanted the interviewer to know that I am not all about malaria and health care… The more you can show that you like the country, the more likely they will feel that you would be a good fit and be able to complete your service.

Know Your Assignment

My assignment was community health volunteer. I had to throw it out there that I would know my role and not try to practice nursing. I know that my role would be educating people about health topics instead of actually being a nurse. Read the assignment description and get it in your brain what skills that you have that will make you a great volunteer. For me that was assuring the interviewer that I could be hands-off medically yet hands-on in other ways. That I’d be willing to not only teach people about respiratory disease and how to prevent it, but also how to build stoves that vent to the outside or burn cleaner than burning trash. Want to teach English to kids? Tell them about how you volunteered reading to kids. Want to work in a health center? [even if you are not a nurse] Tell them about how you helped volunteered at the medical tent for a 5k. Something. Anything. Wanna work in community economic development?  Spin that time you sold candy or cookies into something amazing.

While you are looking for blogs to read, try to find some in which the volunteers are doing the same job as what you will be doing. It’s a lot easier to see yourself there doing that job, and key point: do not be afraid to display confidence. I am an introvert and do not like talking about myself, but for that interview, I was as confident as a Texas hold ’em champ. My goal was to make them feel like not nominating me would be their mistake. Be confident. Don’t say ‘I think’ or ‘I’d try.’ Say ‘I know’ or ‘I can,’ but, please, don’t be overconfident.  Then you’ll come across as a condescending asshole. No one wants an asshole on their team.

Print out your resume and aspiration statement

Yes, you wrote it. Yes, you were honest and  did everything on it, but nothing is worse than forgetting what you did in the past and being stuck with having to trot out the ubiquitous group project to answer “How are you a good leader?”  or “Tell me about a time something did not go as planned.”  On your printed copies highlight the events that you want to showcase. Make an outline so you can see it everything at once. Be sure you can relate to either how these skills are transferable to Peace Corps service or  how they will well prepare you for service. Make sure you know why you want to be a volunteer, and if you want to add something speak now or forever hold your piece. Seriously. Right now go and sit down and think about why you want to dedicate 2+ years to something very few people will do.

Pray. Meditate.

Pray. Meditate. Do yoga. Run. Pray. Sleep. Do whatever you need to do to be physically, spiritually and emotionally centered. I woke up a whole hour before my interview, ate breakfast, got dressed, set-up the computer, and got on my knees and prayed for mental clarity and calmness. I knew this was it; it’s a huge opportunity and for me, a second chance.  I definitely did not want to be “out of it” this time, or let my nerves to get the best of me.

“Do you have any questions for me?”

Of course you do. Write them down so that  when your are asked, you will remember them. Scenario: The interview went well. You feel great. You’re on a high. You’ve knock all the questions out of the park, but when then they ask that question [and they will], you don’t want to draw a blank and end up asking “How did you like your service?”

Interviewer are almost always RCPVs and they get asked that question All.The.Time. You don’t want to be generic; you want to be memorable! Be prepared with questions before-hand and make them honest questions. I asked two questions: 1. I know that Madagascar has two official languages, Malagasy and French.  How often is French used in the day-to-day conversations? I asked this because I don’t speak French. I have a background in Spanish, and have picked up a traveler’s vocabulary in Italian, Romanian, and German, but French pronunciation is still a mystery to me. I learned that I really need to know my numbers because prices and such are generally quoted in French. [Who knew?] and my second question was “What challenges did you face during your service?” Generic yes, but it did give me a little insight to the struggles volunteers face. Other good questions:  If you could do anything differently, what would it be? What was you best [or favorite, funniest, happiest, saddest, or hardest experience?]

At the end of the interview be sure to ask about your application and if there is anything you can do to make yourself a stronger candidate. I asked her if there were any concerns that she had with me as an applicant and was told that I was a strong applicant. The interview is your last chance to make a good impression. At the end of the interview, make sure you thank them for the opportunity.

Once the interview is over, be done. Decompress. Do what ever it is you do to decompress. I took a nap. [Hey, I love my sleep]. Watch your favorite show.  Go to a movie.  Breathe easy. You put yourself out there. You made your best effort. If you don’t get it then, oh well. No regrets, but if you DO get the invite, by all means CELEBRATE!!! You are going to the Peace Corps! … then sit down and get ready for the mountain of paperwork  and clearances that you have to complete.

Welcome to the Peace Corps!

Dear MICHELLE,
Congratulations! You have been selected to serve as a Peace Corps Volunteer, pending medical and legal clearance. This letter is your formal invitation to serve as a/an Community Health Advisor in Madagascar departing February 25, 2018By accepting this invitation, you are taking the next step toward joining hundreds of thousands of Americans who have answered the call to service and made sustainable change in communities around the world.
Congratulations again on receiving an invitation to serve. We look forward to hearing from you soon.

Invited to Serve

The Peace Corps’ sent my invitation to serve on July 27, 2017 via e-mail. I no longer obsessively checked my email like I did the first few weeks after my interview. I popped in randomly to check my email only to be disappointed by the lack of updates. My check-ins got further and further apart.

Which is why I almost missed my invitation to serve!

I sat down at my desk on a late Sunday night. I checked my email, thinking it would be full of spam yet again when I saw it…

Dear MICHELLE,

Congratulations! You have been selected to serve as a Peace Corps Volunteer, pending medical and legal clearance. This letter is your formal invitation to serve as Community Health Advisor in Madagascar departing February 25, 2018By accepting this invitation, you are taking the next step toward joining hundreds of thousands of Americans who have answered the call to service and made sustainable change in communities around the world. Here’s what you need to do within 3 calendar days:

  • Review all assigned materials. Please review the assignment-specific information sent to you via email previously, as well as the Peace Corps Volunteer handbook.
  • Respond to your invitation within three days: 

See that second bullet point–respond to your invitation. It was already Sunday, July 30th at 11:45pm. Did this really mean I only had 15 minutes remaining or my invitation would be rescinded? I wasn’t sure, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. But by my getting my invitation so late in the game, meant that I had absolutely no one to talk to about it. Except my coworkers. Who think I’m crazy for wanting to join the Peace Corps anyway.

Probably the worst photo ever taken of me but these were the co-workers I was with when I got the e-mail.

I make my best decisions when I don’t have time to overthink

Trusting my gut, I responded to the accept link in my invitation. And that was that. On August 2, PC inundated my email with the first of many of tasks. It’s a marathon, not a sprint. Set 1 involved going to the local police department and making fingerprints, PC used the fingerprint cards for the FBI and INTERPOL background checks. Step 2 involved applying for my PC (diplomatic) passport. [It’s really not that much different than a regular passport, but sound way cooler].

You see how ‘pending medical and legal clearance’ is bolded in the original offer? Medical clearance is no joke–and with only two months (60 days to be precise) to complete the tasks, it’s a race to complete on time. More on that to come later

 

Let’s try this again

It was just another Saturday afternoon. I was procrastinating with writing a paper in health policy. Tennessee vs Florida was playing in the background when I clicked on over to the Peace Corps website. I thought why the hell not?

It’s now or never, right?

I can already hear what you are saying…

“The Peace Corps? Really, but aren’t you’re already a nurse.”

Yes. Yes I am. I am already a nurse, but let’s rewind just a bit– Spring 2013.

I was all set to go to medical school only 35 minutes from where I was living. VCOM here I come. I was as ready as one can be to start medical school, and then, life, as it has a tendency to do, got in the way.

Without going into details, I withdrew my spot in the class of 2018. I looked at other options to pursue my goal of providing medical care. I enrolled in the local nursing school and graduated in August 2015. Immediately I signed up for and passed NCLEX, started to work on my BSN, and promptly got a job at a local hospital.

Which I hated.

To say I was stuck in a rut is an understatement. I started feeling lost and wasn’t sure what my next move would be; did I want to move? [Not really] Start a new job? [Probably, but I was more than burnt out after working in hospitals for the last 10 years. I could not fathom what I’d want to do]. Run off and travel for a year? [No, I’d already done that when I spent a little over a year traveling in South America]. I knew there was something else for me but I had no idea what it was.

I’m not sure exactly how the Peace Corps popped into my head, but once it did, it turned into a nagging thought that would not go away. Of course, I’d heard of the Peace Corps. I’ve even done international volunteer work before. I casually mentioned it to a few friends by saying “So if I joined the Peace Corps, would you come visit me?”

More time passed until that September Saturday where I was looking for motivation to write that paper. Upon finding none I looked into the revamped application process. I explored open programs and current PC countries. Health was an obvious choice, but I also opened up my application to other areas. What I know about community development can fit into a thimble, but I was willing to try.

So I applied. When it came time to pick countries, I wish there had been an option to exclude certain places. I was fairly open to most countries, but I knew, that the South Pacific Islands are not for me. Equally, I’d prefer to not go to Western Africa. I chose Kyrgyz Republic, Mozambique, or Guyana.

I’ve lived in a thatched hut in the middle of the Amazon with a compost toilet before. I have had my own apartment in places where electricity was sporadic. I know indoor plumbing, running water, and electricity are all things I could do without. At least for a predetermined time.

So it is now or never. I’ve only told one person that I’ve submitted the application. I have an interview Friday. We shall see how it goes. Stay tuned on how this new adventure shakes out.

I love this view

Update

On January 4, I had an interview for Peace Corps| Lesotho. I was less than enthusiastic about this interview for several reasons:  1. I do not want to go to Lesotho for several reasons. 2. The program was youth development. That was not one of my choices I put down as an interest and when I asked about that I was told the health and youth programs were combined. I was less than thrilled.

One of my reference writers didn’t get the reference in until 3 days before the deadline. I had just worked 16 hours the night before; my interview was at 8:30am, and I was most likely barely coherent.  It was a bad interview that ended after 50 minutes (I think most of them last 90 minutes) and it was to no one’s (meaning me) surprise, when on March 1, I got the email that said I had not be selected for Lesotho.

And I was relieved.

But not deterred. I submitted my application yet again mentioning health as my only choice and choosing Madagascar, Guyana, and  Ethiopia as choices and lo and behold, two days after submission, I was ‘under consideration’ for PC | Madagascar.  And I’m excited.  Of course,  it will be an eternity until I find out anything; the program stops accepting applications in July. I’m already doing things differently; I’m learning French. I’m learning more about Madagascar. And I’m excited. Let’s only hope that I am offered the chance to interview for this program.

These kids are happier I’m sticking around a little bit longer.

My one travel regret

I have made it a point in life to not regret the past. Sure there are things that I wish had not happened, but I also think that for better or worse, these life experiences have shaped me into the person that I am today. That being said, my one regret is that I didn’t study abroad when I was in college. It wasn’t as if I actively made the decision to not study abroad; my college, being a small (tiny even) liberal arts school did not have contracts in place with foreign universities.

chichen itza

Studying Mayan art and architecture in Mexico, Guatemala, and Honduras was most certainly interesting, but not all that practical

And also, let’s be honest. Even if they had had those agreements in place, most likely I would not have been able to afford it. It was all I could do to afford college to begin with. I worked full-time hours throughout my entire college career. Going abroad for a semester or a summer would have meant 3-4 months of no job and no income.  Putting that together with the added expense of being overseas and it just didn’t add up.

I did manage to travel while in college so it wasn’t as if I never left the country.  I turned a two week vacation into a three month tour of Northern England, Scotland, and Wales with a side of Ireland after my freshman year. While my friend were actually graduating college, I did an ‘independent study’ in Mexico AFTER I’d taken all my other classes needed to graduate thus delaying my official graduation for a year.

llanfair

I did make it to the town with the world’s longest name whilst wandering about Wales. Thankfully they just call it Llanfair.

I am quite certain that if I had studied abroad, my life would be 99.9% different than it is now–or maybe I would have arrived at the life I have now a lot sooner. I am quite certain that NOT studying abroad in college led me to take a ‘career break’ in 2010. And that ‘career break’ in 2010-11 led to me changing my career over the last 5 years. That career break also led to me choosing an elective where I got to spend time in both St Petersburg and Moscow (studying plants of all things) , Russia and Cardiff, Wales (studying the UK’s National Health System).  Both of those experiences, while amazing, was not the immersion experience I was looking for. And while travel nursing in the US is totally a thing; international travel nursing is not.

cardiff

At least I got to do a little exploring in and around Cardiff whilst working/studying at the Wales Hospital for Children.

All these experiences (and lack of experiences) has led me to the Peace Corps.  Peace Corps is not something I’d even strongly considered even though I had heard its existence while in middle school. I pondered joining after I graduated college, but there was always this reason or that reason holding me back. But it is something that has been nagging at me, sometimes gently, sometimes with a bit more force over the last 15 years.

So maybe not studying abroad in my initial college experience was a good thing; after all, it has brought me to the Peace Corps where I’ll finally have that immersion experience I have been craving since I was 12 years old.  Let’s hope I don’t regret joining at this stage of life.

 

Do you believe in fairies?

Do you believe in fairies?

When I was a little kid, I used to love to play make believe, and play in the creek behind my house. I’m sure that I wasn’t the only kid in the world who liked to play make-believe or play in creeks, but being as how I was an only child who lived out in the country far away from other kids, playing make-believe was a great source of entertainment for me. I loved to pretend that I was either invisible sea monster or a witch or better yet, an invisible sea monster-witch. Skye would have been a great place to grow up.

Swimming with fairies

Just imagine being an invisible fairy with eternal life and the power to enthrall people.. it’d make sense to live here, bewitching visitors to take off all their clothes [because now I’m a bawdy wench]. The spell of the Fairy Pools is that they look as if they must be warm…

I mean with that kind of vivid blue water it must be like the Caribbean Sea, but having come straight down from the Black Cuillins, they are anything but warm. The saying goes: temperatures in Scotland are either cold, bastard cold, or damn freezing cold. And checking in at a balmy 43F, I say these swimming holes are bastard cold.

Perhaps it is the fairy mischief that makes me want to jump into this amzing clear blue water. Water that is face-smackingly, lung-contractingly cold… wet-suit be damned… I jump in… ohmygod thisissofuckingcold… I clamber back out to catch my breath. Fairy magic… I haul my carcass out of the swimming hole, warm up, and dive in again and again. This is river swimming at its most magical.

Isle of Skye

The Isle of Skye is the largest of the Hebridean islands. It is easy to navigate, easily reached from the mainlaind village of Kyleakin, and has a huge variety of landscapes packed into a relatively small space. Scottish Gaelic is the predominate language of this part of the country , and in this area of around 10,000 people spread out over the islands, is raw wilderness.  Each sight is slightly more awe inspiring than the previous.

Leaving Skye, I passed probably the most famous castle in Scotland. In my less than humble opinion, Eilean Donan Castle is the most beautiful castle in Scotland.  It’s even movie famous. Chances are you recognize it from a film or two.  Eilean Donan starred in Highlander, served as Sean Connery’s home in Entrapment, and was the Scottish Headquarters of MI6 in The World Is Not Enough. Anything related to the world’s most famous spy has my stamp of approval.

Shout out to Rick Wakeman’s 1980s era song called Do you believe in fairies for this post’s title

Conversations from a bar

Every empty bottle is filled with stories.

Raise your glass

This is a conversation that occurred in a Colombia bar in August, 2010.

Colombia is a beautiful country. The Andes Mountains, the Amazon jungle, the Cocora valley are all amazing. In addition to the natural beauty, Colombia has beautiful people. Some of them are naturally beautiful and some of them–well, they have a little help.  The plastic surgeons in Colombia do a fantastic job. Medellin is my third stop in Colombia. It is kind of like Goldilocks and the 3 bears. The weather in Bogota was too cold. The weather in Leticia was too hot, but the weather in Medellin is just right. The days are warm and the nights are cool. It feels like fall [or spring].

Last night, I went out with some English/Australian guys that were staying in the same hostels [Funny story: We had actually met on the cable car that goes to the top of the city.] So at some point during the evening after an indeterminate number of drinks, in an unidentified bar, a conversation much like the following took place:

Guy 1:  “Are those real?” (referring to boobs, but not mine of course)
Me:  “Nope.  No way”.
Guy 2:  “Yeah.  I reckon. You can tell the difference.”
Guy 1: “Aha ha. I agree. Definite difference in shape.”
Me: “Yeah. But there’s no way that they could be real.
Guy 2: Compare hers (Colombian chic) to hers (mine). Definite extra perkiness. No offense” (referring to Colombian chic)
Guy 1: “I’m still not convinced. They’re too good to be real.”
Me: “Why don’t you just ask her?”
Guy 1: “Huh?”
Guy 2: “What?”
Me: “Just ask her”
Guy 1: “That would be funny.”
Me:  “Yeah. Go on. Or I will.”
Guy 2: “I don’t know.  That’s pretty random. Imagine if someone came up to you and…”
Me: “C’mon’.  It’s the only way to settle it. Fuck it. I’ll do it…”

Me and two guys in a bar

So somewhere, in the night, after an indeterminate number of drinks plus a few more, in the same unidentified bar, another conversation, much like the following, took place:

Guy 1: “What the fuck did you touch them for?”
Me: “She said I could.”
Guy 1: “And so you just grabbed them?”
Me: “Yep.”
Guy 2: “And?”
Me: “Real.”
Guy 1: “Definitely? Did she say so?”
Me: “Yep.”
Guy 2: “What did she say exactly?”
Me:  “They’re real. Good hmm?
Guy 2: “In English?”
Me: “In English.”
Guy 2: “Fuck off”

Me : You know, that’s the first time I’ve ever touched a pair of boobs other than my own…

Me and two guys in a bar

busty plastic girls
These are definitely fake

Conversations similar to the one above are, probably, not uncommon in Medellin. It is, apparently, the plastic surgery capital of the world in a country that is probably the most plastic surgerized in the world. Or at least close to.  Such a place has a significant reputation to live up to. However, Medellin does it with aplomb, cosmetic surgical intervention striking you anywhere you turn.  Seriously, fake boobs are everywhere. They are more normal than natural boobs.

  If you don’t have them, you’re the odd one out. Old woman have them. Girls far younger than the legal drinking age have them. Yes, I even saw a cat that had them (this may or may not be true… this may or not have occurred at the bar).  I read somewhere, but I now don’t recall where, that the prevalence of silicon in Medellin is largely due to Medellin’s former status as the center of the world cocaine trade. Don’t ask me why that means fake boobs all over the place – I guess drug lords liked them big.  In any event, the reality remains, and it is one scary, bouncy and far too perky reality.

packin fellas
The same can be said for the fellas

Fernando Botero

The theory attributing Medellin’s curvaceousness to the drug lords is a popular one.  However, my own personal theory is that the female of residents of Medellin are paying homage to the great Colombian artist, Fernando Botero.

Medellin born and Medellin raised, Botero’s sculptures dominate the public artistic landscape of central Medellin, his ludicrously proportioned, voluptuous and humorous bronze figures in the Plaza Botero in particular a highlight.  If you are not familiar with Botero’s work, I can probably sum it up for you in a single word – fat.  Not ‘ph’ fat. Just plain old ‘fat’.  Like everything being seen through one of those crazy mirrors that makes everything look fat. Not ‘ph’ fat.  Just plain old lazy bastard fat. Having viewed a reasonably large collection of his work in Bogota, it’s clear to me that his work is at its most impressive in sculpture – the central focus of his work, the roundedness aka ‘fat’, most effective and striking when experienced in three dimensions.  Fat. Not ‘ph’ fat.  Just good old ‘if it sits on you it’s going to hurt’ fat.