Little girl, big city, no limits

Well it’s officially been a week. No wait, two. Funny how time has gone by. As I sit here in a foreign place, tiny remnants of home sneak pass the unfamiliarity in the form of English, Beyonce lyrics.

This week has been lonely; which is odd since I’m in a city with over 8 million people. Contrary to popular belief, I am very much an introvert. So it has been a little difficult to force myself outside. Now that I have an apartment, it’s really easy to lock myself inside with my computer and cell to connect with a world of which I used to be a part.

Each day, I try something new. Or at the very least, I try to leave my place. You’d be surprised how overwhelming a simple trip to the grocery store can be. At home, I get in my car, drive to the store, get the items in the brands I know, swipe my magical money card and drive home.

But here, I think of what is most important, calculate how much I think it may be, put aside money in case I need a taxi, walk 10 blocks to the store to buy unknown items in an unknown brand.

Two weeks ago, 10 blocks was just stupid. Now 10 blocks is sort of short. I’ve made that trip a few times without even thinking about it.

It’s hard to get homesick, since I talk to someone from home almost daily. And thank God for the Internet and other technological advances that allow me to see my family’s faces.

My first impressions are very elementary. City – big. People – a lot of them. And Spanish – everywhere. But to expand upon it, even in a city so big, people are super nice. Think of how many times you’ve passed visitors/tourists at the 6th Floor exhibit or <insert any other tourist attraction here>. Now, tell me how many times you’ve stopped to ask if you can help or if they know where they are going. I’m guilty of pretty much never doing that.

But here, people often speak, make sure I’m headed in the right direction and even warn me if I’m not in a safe area. I asked a guy why they were so concerned. He had moved here from Belgium about a year ago. He said Colombians want you to visit their country. They want you to enjoy it. That amount of pride makes what could be a very cold city a very warm place to be.

I’ve noticed that I have had to change some of my American thinking. At home, there’s no instant trust. Trust is built. And anyone that offers kindness without reciprocity is suspect.

Last Saturday was the first night I went out by myself, without people I knew. (Excuse me while I beam with pride and accomplishment of this huge feat.) I went to a language exchange. Basically, it’s a meeting place for people who are attempting to learn a different language. The tables are divided into languages. And the people practice with advanced or native speakers.

There, I met three Colombians at the Spanish table. After talking for a bit, they decided to go to another bar and invited me to join them. Immediately all spidey senses commenced to tingle.

Were they trying to lure me somewhere else? They kept buying me drinks. Was this to lower my instincts/inhibitions?

All the warnings of pickpockets, drink-spikers and thieves downtown flooded my head and I was immediately on guard. I had approximately three seconds to think and consider without possibly offending them.

At that moment, I caught a glimpse of my Saint Christopher bracelet (patron saint of travelers) given to me by my Aunt Vida. I wear it every time I go out. I said a quick prayer for discernment and accepted. And guess what happened. I had an excellent time! We went to three or four bars. I danced. I walked the main street where they taught me, corrected my grammar (well isn’t that a twist) and learned about each other.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t sometimes concerned about my decision. I’d be minimizing it if I said I didn’t doubt if I could do this. At my age, dropping my job and leaving everything behind seems loco bananas. I can hear my mother’s voice groaning in irritation at the age remark, but it’s still a real sentiment.

I know I have a bevy of supporters at home. And I’m riding on the wheels of pride and encouragement of the cheerleaders that text, message and email me. But that certainly doesn’t provide the vocabulary and confidence I need.

I recently told a friend, “I think I’m ready for the hard part to be over.” But now, sitting here at a coffee shop discussing trivial topics such as the lack of consistent Internet with a stranger, I think I’ll wallow in my discomfort for a while. I’ll appreciate it more when I’m on the other side.

And as for my perceived deficiencies and my fear of inability…?

Limits are for speed. And those are broken every day.

#janelle #colombia #limits