Villa de Leyva

Dusky stormclouds behind la catedral

They say that Villa de Leyva , founded in 1572, is one of the most beautiful, well-preserved colonial towns in Colombia. I haven't seen much of the rest of the country yet, so I can't really compare. But having traveled a lot in Latin America, I've developed an eye for cobblestone, whitewash and red-tiled rooves. And after a detailed survey of the town, including the lanes, plazas, churches, courtyards, cafés and a bar blasting Ozzy Osbourne, I agree that it's a magnificent example of Spanish Colonial.

We hopped a bus from Bogotá bound for Tunja, capital of the department of Boyacá. This department is known for high hill country, hearty food, dairying and a traditional campesino (country) lifestyle.We were told. Waiting at the bus station for a buseta to Villa de Leyva, we meditated on life while I drank coffee and ate chicken empanadas. My mind literally went blank amidst the wind-whipped trash, scavenging dogs and shouting bus touts, who constantly demanded to know where we were going. We eventually got our bus and wound through dry hills full of weird succulents. I recognized some of my friends from the Southwest, as well as monstrous yuccas ten feet tall, pipestem cacti and scrubby thorny shrubs. Arid.

Soldiers stroll the plaza at sunset

The next two days were spents pedalling the countryside and exercising our calves and ankles on the cobblestones. We found a nice little hotel with a quiet coutryard out back, presided over by a friendly limping lady in pointy boots and a charming smile. After months of winter it was heartening to see flowering trees of magenta and yellow, and an afternoon rainshower was a welcome break from the dry, bright climate as stone and roof darkened with damp. Writing notes in a café, a girl smiled shyly when I asked her the names of local plants, "Yo no sé, pero mi madre. . ." Her mother came out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a towel and laughed at my pictures of tall, spiky plants.

Making friends

Going to Villa de Leyva was like a trip to a living past. I hope they manage to maintain the architecture, because in so many places in the developing world that seems to suffer the most. Old manners remain - the small shops, the greengrocer, a slower pace of life - but beautiful buildings often give way to concrete shacks, steel rebar sticking out of the rooftops like awkward antennae. Nothing stays the same, but a quite a few people I talked to in Leyva seemed proud of their town. Check it out if you get the chance (and if you're a fan of old Land Rovers and Landcruisers.)

La Iglesia del Carmen

¡Bogotá!

Getting churchy at the cathedral

After four days of snowy delays I hit Bogotá early on a Sunday - without my backpack. The bag man tried everything he could to avoid dealing with it, but finally fished an old, yellow-stained form out a wooden drawer and scrawled down the claim numbers and a description. I had my doubts but he gave me a number to call, and I told him I really hoped to get my bag later that day. He laughed politely and gave a big grin. "No señor, mañana. . . si posible." If possible?
As soon as I got my copy of the claim check I was on the hunt for my first cup of tinto, what the Colombians call the world's most popular drink and the basis of their economy. On the way I strolled past the airport chapel, packed of course in this land of Catholics, and almost crossed myself involuntarily. I couldn't help it - all of the security guards and soldiers did. The coffee was great in a little restaurant on the second floor, and it was fantastic to eat real food, in a real hole in the wall, in an airport, that wasn't a chain! I almost went back to the chapel and asked God to keep this land safe from the boring, smothering cancer of a Chili's, McDonald's, Starbucks or Wendy's on every corner.

Local candidate Bruno Díaz campaigns Colombian style

The next few days in Bogotá included a trip in a cable car up Moserrate for a visit to the mountaintop church, arepas (corn pancakes) and a view of the smog and sprawl. I met up with S and we celebrated our reunion with an evening of strolling the old center, stopping to watch a religious revival in the Plaza de Bolívar and listen to a politician jam out some salsa with his band. We also had to hunt up some camping equipment for the mountains and of course I drank a dozen cups of coffee (at about 50 cents each.) I got my bag in the end, and we made plans to move on. . .

Ice Fishing

Adam and I went ice fishing the other day. It was very, very cold and windy. After a ride across Lake Champlain on the new ferry at the old Champlain Bridge site, we checked in at Norm's for some bait. We ended up renting a shanty from him down at the Ticonderoga ferry landing, drilling a few holes, eating some chips and knocking back a few Jagermeisters. That's basically all we did because we didn't catch a single fish.

Supplies

Shanty Row, Ticonderoga, NY

Excited about baitfish

Excited about Jagermeister

(Korean) English Notebooks

Despite thousands of native English speakers working as teachers in South Korea, notebook and pencil case manufacturers continue to go it alone when it comes to product slogans. In a land obsessed with learning English, it's strange that education-related products are covered in bizarre, nonsensical, Mad Lib-style strings of words. Here are some I recently photographed in a Korean department store.

Unfortunately, I didn't get a photo of one of my favorites. One of the students in my last class had a small notebook with a photo of the Eiffel Tower on the cover. The caption? HAPPY VIRUS 100% Nobody love you like I do. Not kidding.

If that doesn't make you want to learn English. . .

Finally, the last word on the Atlantic

Hopefully there will be more Herb Messages to follow

Especially relevant in these times of uncertainty. . .

English Camp

This is the ACK-5 gang, my most recent EFL (English as a Foreign Language) class over in South Korea. I won't go into all the background now, but over the last five years I've done a lot of English teaching over in Asia. Mostly in South Korea, where I worked for a small private academy for just over a year and have done four separate winter camps. I also did a few months in Tokyo for Westgate Corporation, teaching conversation classes at university, and a quick camp in Taiwan.

The gig last month was working for an outfit called Camp Korea, a company that operates schools and camps in Korea and overseas (Canada, UK, etc.) Way back in October I was wondering what to do with my winter. As usual, plans developed with very few conscious decisions being made. To make a long story short, thoughts of wintering in New Zealand turned to a trip to the UK and Paris, spending the holidays in Vermont pursuing different projects and doing some low-intensity retail at my local EMS. That would take me through the New Year. . . then what?

I decided that after a two-year hiatus from teaching English I'd go back for another round. I applied to a few different winter camps in Korea and was lucky to land a good one. Apparently most camps were canceled this year due to the economy and a paralyzing fear of H1N1 (swine flu.) Actually, on turning up at camp I had a thermometer stuck in my ear to make sure I was OK (apparently that's enough?)

What is English Camp?

South Korea is obsessed with education. The culture is based in Confucianism, which esteems education and civic achievement and scorns physical labor. It's also a country the same size as Indiana with 50 million people. This leads to intense competition for places at prestigious universities, which means that any family able to afford it dumps huge amounts of money into educating their children. From a very young age Korean kids simply study. Seriously, they're not out skipping rocks and building forts in the woods. They go to school, then go to private academies in the evenings to study more (like the one I worked at a few years ago.) And during summer and winter vacations, they go to camp. We're not talking about waterskiing, archery and hiking. Nothing says vacation like three weeks of intensive English!

A gambling class I taught a few years ago. . .

All winter camps run along the same lines. There are students, teachers (native speakers from around the world), TA's (Korean university students getting experience) and management. Starting off on the first day, the kids are tested to determine their English levels and broken up into classes. I met my class the first evening and we did a few getting-to-know-you activities. From then on it was a regular daily schedule; correcting diaries, reading, writing, lunch, PE, working on speeches or debates, writing book reports, etc. There were also rehearsals for a talent show, there was a sledding field trip, vocabulary tests and so on. Full days that went by quickly.

All in all it was a good time, with plenty of structure, good curriculum and very well organized. I was also very lucky to get a great class of ten 12-year-olds with plenty of energy, spirit and a good level of English. Thanks ACK-5! The evenings were taken up by bullshitting with the other teachers, in particular my Irish roommate Chris. Many hours were spent on conversations ranging from the declining quality of Irish women to how terrible his class's "Heal the World" performance was.

On the weekends I managed to visit a few friends and let off some steam with the other teachers over beers and barbecue. Anyone interested in digging a little deeper into Korea could check out the Korea Herald, Korea Times or one of the great blogs out there (here's one of my favorites.) South Korea is a fascinating place and I'll definitely be back (for a visit - there's no way I could live there again!)

"Educators" on the weekend

Back to Korea

For me, 2010 actually began a few days early at my buddy Sean's house. Almost every time I go away, whether abroad or somewhere here in the States, I stay at his apartment the night before. This has become tradition. We've known each other for years and our relationship consists almost entirely of cooking and rambling for hours with the occasional vodka to keep things moving.

2010 began with an amazing meal of ribs. Here's a foolproof method I learned and wrote in my journal: After cutting the ribs between the bones into singles, poach in broth for at least an hour until tender, then pan-fry to give the outside some texture. Toss with sauce and enjoy.

The following morning I caught a flight to New York, then on to Seoul. I landed on New Year's Eve, but because it was freezing and I was exhausted I settled for a simple meal and a good night's sleep at my favorite love motel in the Sinchon neighborhood. I'd really like to write more but I'm getting a lift in a few minutes to Burlington so I can fly to Colombia tomorrow. . .

A New Year and Another Try

So it's 2010. I tried to get this whole thing going last year. I guess I did get it started but it had a very short, two-week lifespan. I'm going to try again to offer my family, friends, anyone else who cares and those who stumble here accidentally a look at my life as a traveler, tour leader, rambler, teacher and dude. This is becoming important to me because I live so much of my life away from the aforementioned people. I'm positive that many people who know me have no idea what I do when I'm not "at home" in Vermont, which is most of the past six years. Hopefully now they'll get a better understanding of my life and what I do (and hopefully I'll start to catch on as well!)

For example, I might be building a table in the woodshop, teaching kids in Asia, smoking a hookah at a mosque in Paris, checking out the club scene in a tiny Welsh village, having Christmas with the family, playing Oregon Trail on my laptop in JFK or climbing out of a lava tube in Idaho.

So if you're at all interested, stay tuned. . .