Stop The Sag

Last week I mentioned that I am doing an internship as part of my course of study, but I didn't give much detail. My course-load for the Fall semester includes three "regular" classes: H-107 "Educational Neuroscience," H-250 "Developmental Psychology," and AT-133 "Examining Achievement."* In addition to these three classes, I'm doing a Field Experience Program (S-997)—otherwise known as an internship. The following post is adapted from my first writing assignment for this course, which requires me to keep a journal to reflect on the experience. I've taken out some small parts that would be redundant for readers of this blog, as well as other bits to avoid airing the dirty laundry of organizations where I've worked in the past. 

_____________________________

My decision to do the Field Experience Program, and my desire to do it with the YMCA of Greater Boston, is consistent with my focus on Youth Development programs. While I won’t be writing a thesis, I’m still designing my course of study in the Special Studies Program around a final project or product. My goal is to produce the first installment of a soccer-based curriculum for academic enrichment geared towards first-graders. In the spring semester, I plan to organize this work through an Independent Study (S-999), utilizing the resources of the Harvard Innovation Lab. My fall internship is an opportunity to embed myself at the senior level of a large Youth Development organization—the type of organization that might implement the curriculum I’m designing once it’s finished.

I have a lot of experience in Youth Development programs, including work in the non-profit, for-profit, and public sectors, both in the United States and abroad. I have worked in a management capacity in smaller organizations, and I have worked “on the ground” in larger organizations. What I lack is the experience of working at the senior planning level of a large YD organization. Specifically, I want to learn more about how large organizations design, select, implement and evaluate youth programs, particularly across multiple sites. Does a large organization like the YMCA start from scratch and design all of their own programs? Or, do they work with a third party to find or develop programs and curriculum to suit their needs and goals. The answers to this question will have an impact on how I “shop” my finished curriculum, and who I see as potential clients or beneficiaries.

(Out of Site Youth Arts Center - San Francisco, CA 2007)

(Informal Youth Development session - Sayulita, Mexico 2009)

(My Yute Soccer Camp - Oakland, CA - 2013)

In past experiences I have witnessed a disappointing disconnect between the espoused values of an organization, the fundamentals of a curriculum, and the implementation of that curriculum on the ground. In some cases, being embedded at one particular site hampered my ability to understand and examine the causes of theses breakdowns at an organizational level. I had my theories, but since I was removed from the workflow at the senior level, they were nothing more than theories. When approaching the YMCA, I made it clear that I was not interested in pursuing an internship where I would get bogged down with day-to-day site-level operations (i.e. playing with kids). While I love doing this work, and I learn something new each day that I do it, that scenario would not be a worthwhile Field Experience Program for me. Instead, my mentor is a Vice President of YMCA Greater Boston, who overseas all child development operations across 13 sites in the region. I will be well-positioned to learn more about how they address system-wide challenges, for example, the training of site leaders, or the demographic differences between sites. Ultimately, I want to understand their approach to large-scale quality control.

While I’ve done a ton of volunteer work, I haven’t been an intern since 2005, when I was an undergraduate student. All juniors in the Urban Studies Program at San Francisco State University are required to set up and complete an internship, very similar to the HGSE Field Experience Program. I worked as a Service-Learning Instructor at a local high school, The Urban School of San Francisco. I have a solid understanding of the challenges that come with being an unpaid, temporary member of a work team. As the saying goes, “sometimes free is too expensive.” With financial compensation removed from the equation, it becomes even more important for me to set clear expectations for what I want to get out of the experience. While most of my peers will be working for a paycheck (and for the love of children), they may not understand exactly what I’m doing there, and why I’m there. My meeting with my mentor on Tuesday will be an important step towards defining these goals. Likewise, I need a clear understanding of what the organization and my mentor expect from me. The good news is that I’m in a field that I love, and I am used to doing the work for free, for pennies, for pesos and for escudos. It won’t be hard for me to treat this experience like a “real job,” and that should facilitate my integration into the YMCA team.

Pura Vida,

Drew

* You might have noticed that I dropped A-608 "Leadership, Entrepreneurship, and Education" in favor of H-250 "Developmental Psychology." I had my reasons.

Family Dinner Food Porn Pic of the Week

My Teachers Are Teachers

Over the past few years I’ve developed a pretty effective strategy for life... at least, it’s been working out pretty well for me. Basically, it goes like this: “prepare to be unprepared.” Clearly, this strategy works well when you’re relocating to new countries—but what may be less obvious is that preparing to be unprepared can be an effective approach, whether you’re a Peace Corps Volunteer or a pre-school teacher.

That being said, I don’t get too worried about having all the answers. Uncertainty doesn’t freak me out—in fact, I kinda like it. A couple of weeks ago, my roommate’s friend was bombarding with questions about life in the Peace Corps because she is currently in the application process. One of the first things she told me was, “My leave date is January 2014 and I'm going to be stationed in blah blah blah.” My curt response was, “Yeah, no it’s not and no you won’t.” I tried to explain to her that if she could count on one thing, she could count on the Peace Corps to flip the script on her at least once between now and when she actually leaves. And really, she couldn’t even count on that. I submitted my application to the Peace Corps in January 2010 and I was on a plane for Cape Verde in July... of 2011.

The interesting thing is that the application process for joining the Peace Corps is excellent practice for life as a volunteer in the Peace Corps—the uncertainty, the constantly readjusted expectations, and the glacial speed of progress. Having survived all of that, I can honestly say that there wasn’t much about starting graduate school that truly freaked me out. Still, I would be lying if I said I didn’t have some huge questions about what my life would be like, both in the classroom and beyond.

The first question I pondered was whether or not I would actually have a "life." I am happy to report that I do, even if my social life looks and feels a lot different than it has for the past few years. For example, I have not danced until the sun came up. I have not spent an entire Saturday at a beachfront bar, eating french fries and watching back-to-back-to-back European soccer matches. I haven’t had a trago of aguardiente or grogue, or mug of Aguila Light or Strela—actually, I haven’t a sip of alcohol since I got on a plane headed for Boston.* Yet still, I have a life.

Last weekend I made a 24-hour trip to West Hollywood to see my Sands get married. It was a special night for so many reasons, including witnessing my first in-person group Wobble (no, the Wobble has not spread to South America yet). Getting to this wedding was another step in the process of reconnecting my brothers from Kappa Chi, the most thorough chapter of Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc. on the planet. It started back in May when Demek came to Medellín for his bachelor party. Now, I'm joined by my "big" brother and fellow HGSE student, Al, who has been my right hand man... literally... he's sitting to my right studying in the library while I am not. At Demek's wedding I caught up with some of the "old" heads and met some of the younger ones from our chapter that crossed after I left D.C. in 2001.

CONGRATULATIONS KIM & DEMEK!!!

Sure, I’m pressed for time, but I can still enjoy the finer things in life—like watching soccer. For example, on the way to the library today, I passed by the Harvard University Athletics Complex and decided to pop in to catch the second half of the Harvard vs. Davidson match. We looked good but we coughed up a late, well-taken to goal to lose the game 2-1.

 It was a tough loss, but not as tough as watching the USA get slapped by Costa Rica at Banshee Pub, the official Boston home of The American Outlaws. Sandwiched in between those losses was a great win for the Boys Varsity team at Cristo Rey High School. I was truly impressed, and I must they, their coach was very professional... and handsome too (cough, cough).

So, now I’m no longer “worried” about not having a life. I’m taking the regular 16 credits (including an internship at the YMCA of Greater Boston) and I’ve taken on a part-time job (see reference to handsome coach in previous paragraph). This is a heavy load—I’ve been told that each class requires about 12-15 hours of work per week, including time spent in class. So that adds up to 60-70 hours per week, before you account for my "life." This may sound crazy, but I take solace in the fact that decent parents around the world are putting in a similar shift, week in and week out. I got this.

My second “worry” was based on something you often hear about higher education: professors aren’t necessarily great teachers. This makes sense, in the same way that great soccer players don’t always make great coaches. Can you imagine Coach Cristiano Ronaldo, or Coach Luis Suárez (shiver)? We often hear horror stories about professors that care a whole lot about their research or the book they’re working on, but not so much about their students. Well, let me put that one to rest. My teachers are TEACHERS, and they are damn good at what they do. While writing this, it dawned on me that this might have something to do with the fact that I am in the school of EDUCATION! If I were a betting man, I would bet that on average, the faculty at HGSE are better at teaching than their equally-intelligent peers in the other schools at Harvard. But maybe I’m biased.

In my last post I included some golden quotes from the professor of my Educational Neuroscience course. I also forgot to mention the part where he said something along the lines of: I don’t require you to come to class—I don’t think it makes sense for me to penalize you automatically for not showing up to lectures. It’s my job to make the lectures interesting and productive so that they help you do well in the class. Like I said, this is my kind of teacher. My assignment for the first week was to watch a series of five short video lectures as an introduction to brain structure and function. To give you a taste of what I mean when I say, “damn good at what they do,” I’ve included a link to one of those videos, which you may or may not give a rat’s ass about.

My final “worry” about coming to grad school had to do with the culture of Harvard University. While I knew enough about Harvard to know that it's hardly one big Klan rally, I still couldn’t stop thinking about the part of Cornell West’s memoir where he talks about what it was like to be a professor here. If you haven’t read Brother West: Living and Loving Out Loud, please do. Thankfully, I haven’t had any eye-opening/heart-breaking run-ins with Larry Sommers.** Honestly, I’m happy to report that there’s nothing unwelcoming, stuffy or pretentious about my environment—so far. Again, I believe that has a lot to do with the fact that I’m in the School of Education, and not the Business School, the Law School, or the Kennedy School of Government. Ironically, I've found the average student at HGSE to be less offensive and self-righteous than a lot of Peace Corps Volunteers. Who woulda thunk it?

Signing Off,***

Drew

* Every year, I set aside a month to be completely sober. I'm three weeks into that month at the time of writing this... and I'm looking forward to next weekend.

** Lawrence "Larry" Sommers served as President of Harvard University from July 2001 until June 2006.

*** In light of the behavior of Costa Ricans over the past week, including their President, I have temporarily renounced my pseudo-Tico citizenship, and cannot "sign off" using the phrase that I normally would. Call it petty, but that's just how I'm feeling right now.

All You Can Eat

I’m standing at the front of the line at the buffet. I have my empty plate in hand as I scan the options ahead of me. My first thought is that I wish my plate were a little bit bigger. I’m hungry—scratch that... I’m starvin’ like Marvin and the food looks real good. The bad news is that this restaurants is costing me an arm and a leg just. In fact, I had to take out two loans just to get in the door. Do you see where this is going? The good news is that I’m hungry and the food looks real good—scratch that... the food is world class.

I just finished a long week of orientation at Harvard Graduate School of Education, and I’m feeling good. My most important task for the last week was to select and register for my classes. Sounds simple, right? Browse the catalogue, pick the classes, enroll in the classes. Yeah, no. It works a little differently here. After some orientation events and meetings on Monday, I had two days to “shop classes.” Shopping classes is like standing in that buffet line, trying to decide which delectable (or required) goodies to pile on your plate. Fortunately, since I’m in the Special Studies Program, I’m not required to eat any specific thing being offered (take that, Grandma!). So, on Tuesday and Wednesday, I scrambled around campus to sit in on various mini-lectures and presentations from different professors. The point is to get a better idea of what the class is really all about, and how the professor likes to run his or her show. For some of the more popular classes/professors, you actually have to “apply” just to get into the class. 

Unlike the Sizzler, this buffet has certain rules that can’t be bent. For example, I’m not allowed to just try a little bit of everything. I am limited to only four, but this buffet is offering about 100 different dishes in the Fall. And that doesn’t count any of the courses that I could take at the Harvard Business School, The Kennedy School of Government, The School of Public Health, etc. It also doesn’t count any of the dishes being served up  at M.I.T.*—but I am slightly allergic to math and science, so that’s a moot point.

Eventually, I made a game plan, and I’ve loaded up my plate. Here’s what I’ll be dining on for the next few months.

A-608 - Leadership, Entrepreneurship, and Learning (Prof. Monica C. Higgins)

This is definitely one of the most popular courses at HGSE, with space for only half of the students that try to get in every fall. Luckily, I won the lottery, so I’m in.

AT-113 - Educational Effectiveness: Examining Influences on Student Achievement (Prof. Heather C. Hill)

First of all, even the professor admitted that this course needs a new title. This statistics-heavy course explores the education production function, seeking to identify the factors that have the most influence on a student’s performance. Is it great schools, great teachers, great neighborhoods, great families? The answers may surprise you.

H-107 - Introduction to Educational Neuroscience and Education (Prof. L. Todd Rose)

This course was on the bubble until I attending the shopping session. About two minutes in, I knew that I needed this one in my life. Two great quotes from the Professor on day one... “There is such a thing as a dumb question,” and “Some people like to ask questions, not because they want to know the answer, but because they want to sound smart. If you do that in this class, I WILL call you out.” This one’s gonna be good.

S-997 Field Experience Program (Advisors: Prof. Vicki Jacobs & Prof. Thomas Hehir)

Simply put, this is an internship. I’m still in the process of setting up the details, so stay tuned for more information on this one.

Between shopping classes, advising, and other orientation events, it’s been hectic in ways that life in the Peace Corps never, EVER, was. So far, I think I’ve done great job of handling the workload. I give myself an “A+” in Orientation. Maybe this grad school thing isn’t as hard as everyone says it is. Wait... I haven’t even taken a class yet and I’m swamped (shout out to Javi, mi llave). This could get ugly.

Pura Vida,

Drew

* I am only required to take four out of my eight classes at the School of Education. The other four can be taken through other schools at Harvard or at other universities in the Boston area.

Transfer Window

If you were to ask your Average Joe, “When does the year begin?” he would would probably say “January 1st, duh.” But if that Average Joe happened to be a first-grader—or perhaps a first grade teacher—you might get a different answer. You see, certain people lead lives that follow a different calendar, for one reason or another. These folks tend to hit their reset buttons sometime in late August or September. Coincidentally, Virgos and soccer nuts also fall into this category. Can you see where this is going yet? I happen to be a student, a teacher, a Virgo AND a soccer nut, so right now I’m at the starting line after enjoying a great end of the year (summer).

"The Hue-Man Project" @ Betti Ono Gallery - Oakland, CA

Dakota's Engagement Party - Sebastopol, CA

The Fellas @ Caña - Oakland, CA

My life—and life in general—is so much like the game of soccer that it’s scary. It never ceases to amaze me just how many parallels I find between the Gentleman’s game* and the world I experience everyday. I could go on all day listing them, but today I want to talk about one: the transfer window. For the benefit of those who don’t follow European soccer, I will take a second  to explain this concept. While the landscape of European professional soccer often resembles the Wild West, there are actually one or two rules in place to maintain some order. Players’ contracts are often “bought” and “sold,” as teams throughout the world look to strengthen their squads or lighten their financial burdens.** BUT, these transactions are only allowed during two periods, known as transfer windows. The summer transfer window occurs during the off-season, and stretches until the end of August (after the second week of the new season). The second transfer window is in January, as teams look to make adjustments halfway through season. Basketball fans will recognize the similarity to the NBA trade deadline.

I am a supporter of Arsenal Football Club of North London, one of the biggest and baddest*** teams in the world. We are known for being extremely classy, on and off the pitch. We are also known for balling on a budget, in comparison to the handful of clubs owned by Oil Barons and Sugar Daddies. We are one of the few big clubs that actually fund our operations with revenues from football activities! Wow, what a concept!  Over the last few years, Arsenal has spent hundreds of millions of dollars LESS than those clubs, yet we are always “in the hunt”... kinda. We’re really good, we’re just not the best. Actually, we haven’t won a trophy in almost a decade. So, while I’ve been very proud of our approach, both on the field and in the boardroom, I’ve become more and more frustrated every year.

So, you can imagine my excitement a few months back when our club announced that it was sitting on a 70 million pound kitty, and was ready to spend big during the summer transfer window. Actually, that cash reserved has recently been estimated at 150 million dollars. Without going into Soccernomics 101, I'll just say it's is enough to buy a few world-class players, whose current valuations stand between 30 and 100 million pounds+ each. Like any self-respecting Gooner, I believe one or two signings could make us the team to beat.

I, like Arsenal, am standing at the starting line, waiting for the gun to go off, marking the beginning of a new season (school year). I recently relocated to Boston, and I have another week or so to get settled in before game time. Like Arsenal, I’m not poor, but I do know how to squeeze a nickel when necessary. To illustrate my point, I present to you my total moving expenses to date:

- Extra month of rent... yes I paid for July, even though wasn’t here. But my rent is so cheap that it was worth locking down the spot... $495

- Shipping stuff to myself (kitchen knives, spices, winter clothes, books, pandeiro, drumsticks, comforter, pillows, etc) - $110

- Flight from San Francisco to Boston - Free!****

- U-Haul cargo van rental - $67

- Full size mattress, box spring, metal frame, pillow top mattress cover, desk lamp, floor lamp, trash can, full length mirror, bookshelf... $Free.99... gotta love Craigslist.

- Desk and printer/scanner... $30

So, that brings me to a current total of $702. Clearly, that’s not pennies, but it’s pretty darn efficient for a cross-country relocation. So yes, I’m patting myself on the back. But here’s the problem. Remember that $150 million pile of cash? If I told you that I’ve spent more money personally during the transfer window than Arsenal Football Club, would you believe me? Well, I have. Despite various attempted power moves, the only new player to join our team is the French 20 year old,  Yaya Sanogo, who is talented, yet unproven—which is why we got him for the same price that I paid for my bed (see above).

In our defense, we have managed to get rid of several players that were surplus to requirements, so that we're no longer paying the wages of 5 or 6 players who contributed virtually nothing, nothing, or worse. We got a few bucks for some of those players, but others we just gave away. Again, there lies another parallel between my summer transfer window and our team's. I spent a whole lot of hours cleaning out closets and going through old boxes that have been in storage for years. I sold some decent stuff to a used clothing store (as Gervinho was sold to A.S. Roma), gave some nice stuff that I just didn't need to my cousin (Johan Djourou to Hamburger SV), and I donated the rest to charity (see Marouane Chamakh, Vito Mannone, André Santos, Andrey Arshavin and Sébastien Squillaci). Unfortunately, like Arsenal, I still left with at least one box of junk that I would pay someone to take of my hands (Niklas Bendtner).

I’m not gonna lie... I’m confused and I’m frustrated. I trust the folks calling the shots—manager Arséne Wenger has had a profound nfluence on my development as a coach and a gentleman. But my patience is wearing thin. The good news is that there are still two weeks to fix the situation. Kind of like when I checked my email last night and Harvard said I wouldn’t be able to register for classes because I was not compliant with Massachussetts State Immunization Requirements? Seriously!? Do you know how many times I’ve been stabbed with vaccine-filled needles in the last three or four years (thank you very much Peace Corps). If I can eat street food in Soweto, then I think my body can handle a year in Cambridge. I’m so immunized, when I stand in the rain, I don’t get sick, the rain gets Drew.*****

But, like I said, we’ve got time to sort out our issues. Hopefully I can hit the clinic on Monday for one final shot. And hopefully, Arsenal will convince one GREAT player to make the move to North London. Either way, we’ll find out soon enough. As I write this last sentence, it’s only 30 minutes to kick-off in our first game of the new year. Wish us luck!

Pura Vida,

Drew

* It is widely agreed upon that "football is a gentleman's game played by ruffians and rugby is a ruffian's game played by gentleman."

** These "transfer fees" are paid from one team to the other—these should not be confused with the  wages that players receive. The average player playing in the top flight of English soccer earns about 1.5 million pounds/year, or 29,000/week. The highest paid player, Wayne Rooney, earns 250,000 pounds... per WEEEEEEEEEK!

*** "Bad," as defined by Michael Jackson and Run-D.M.C.

**** George Clooney’s character in the movie Up In The Air  was partially inspired by my Dad, who will probably be voted into the United Airlines Hall of Fame on the first ballot. He hooked me up with some of those free miles—Obrigadão!

***** Adapted from one of the best Chuck Norris jokes of all time.

Loss For Words

Lately I’ve been feeling like maybe I’ve lost a step or two. The good news is that I'm now eligible to play in the Over 30 soccer leagues. The bad news is that lately, it's been feeling like the perfect league for me. I’m not quite ready for a mid-life crisis, but since returning to the states I’ve had a few moments that have made me want to start checking for gray hairs. Maybe the morbidity stems from the material on my bookshelf. The last two books I have read were both written by friends, while they were battling cancer. Last week I shared an excerpt from He Died All Day Long, a novel set during the Vietnam War. The author, Jon Wells, was the step father (“faux pa”) to one of my oldest and bestest friends. Sadly, Jon passed away last month, but he hung on long enough to hold a copy of his completed novel in his hand. I shared that piece of his novel because I thought it was an interesting angle on the feeling of “shipping out”—that feeling that I had a few years ago.

Yesterday morning I turned the last page of Lopsided: How Having Breast Cancer Can Be Really Distracting, written by my family friend and courageous surviving babysitter, Meredith Norton. Whenever I think of Meredith, I will think of a fun, slightly-crazy young adult, willing to go toe-to-toe with my oldest brother in any and all arguments. As far as I can recall, she was the only babysitter to lean over and unlock the car door in an offer of assistance when my brother threatened to hop out and ditch our family outing.

Meredith published her novel about five years back—and while I’m embarrassed to admit how long it took me to read it, I’m glad to say I finally did. Despite the subject matter, the book is never sad—in fact, it is pretty much hilarious. Like last week, I want to share a passage that reflects part of how I feel as my life transitions from one project/continent/chapter to the next. This time, the excerpt relates to my struggle to reintegrate into a totally different society and culture. 

"After months of communication deprivation in France I desperately wanted to join this dinner party conversation. I wanted to get the jokes and allusions, and make puns. So I let myself in, greeted everyone, and tried to say something worth hearing. But my brain, after twenty-four sleepless, exhausting hours traveling with a one-year-old, was incapable of anything better than 'It is being near twenty-one hour, is it not?' To which my father responded, 'Go to sleep. You're speaking English like a second language.'"

(p. 21)

Everyone’s knows about the different living standards and accommodations in the developing world. Those are the things that we expect to cause problems as we adjust from one life to another. However, the difference in shower temperatures or coffee-cup sizes has not been my biggest hurdle. From my observations, the biggest difference between people in the USA and people in Colombia or Cape Verde is not what we eat, wear, buy, or do. The single biggest difference is what we talk about when we’re talking about nothing. Small talk is a an art form that demands a tremendous cultural capacity and sensitivity, with the nuances of language ranging from stiffly formal to downright vulgar. The cultural context is also hard to grasp when you've been watching different channels and caring about completely different nonsense for the last few years. 

I’ve been pleased to find that I can still speak English with reasonable fluency, and I have yet to ask anyone to "guard" my coffee while I fish my keys out of my pocket.* Also, I’m doing my best to not start my sentences with, “Well, in Colombia...blahblahblahblah” That being said, I have to admit that my gift of gab has fallen off a bit. Reading that passage from Lopsided put my mind at ease a bit, secure in the knowledge that I am not the first re-integrator that has struggled to catch up with the conversation. Fortunately, you don't need to master the local language to have a good time or to be successful—just ask a Peace Corps Volunteer. For example, check out the signage at the Chinese food spot near UC Berkeley that's always doing good business.

Or better yet, ask young Tyler Hallinan. Hanging out with Bumbalo & Sarah's almost two-year old son last night made me recall a few lines from Pilgrim at Tinker Creek (Annie DIllard, 1974).

"There is a certain age at which a child looks at you in all earnestness and delivers a long, pleased speech in all the true inflections of spoken English, but with not one recognizable syllable. There is no way you can tell the child that if language had been a melody, he had mastered it and done well, but that since it was in fact a sense, he had botched it utterly."

Don't worry, lil buddy... I hear you loud and clear.

Pura Vida

*In spanish the verb "guardar" can translate to hold," "hold/hang onto." Consequently, many gringos can be heard using the slightly inappropriate reverse translation when trying to speak English. So, the next time a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer asks you to "guard" something for them, just smile and nod—I promise you, they are not completely paranoid about someone stealing or attacking their half-eaten poppyseed muffin.

NOTE: Meredith Norton passed away on August 2, 2013, less than two weeks after this post. Click here to read her obituary.

All Day Long

What to do all day long? If my life were a book, right now we’d be at one of those little excerpts at the beginning of a new chapter. A stanza from a Langston Hughes poem, or an esoteric quote. I’ve thought a lot—and have had to answer a lot of questions about—how I’m spending my time in Oakland before I relocate to Boston. Maybe I should take the advice of a character from the book I just started reading this morning:

"If I were you, I'd wake up every day at dawn to see the sun come up. Then I'd go back to bed. I'd screw a different woman every night and mean it when I told her I loved her. I'd read a mystery and stop halfway through so I'd have something to wonder about. I'd see how many grapes I could fit in my mouth. I'd drive a hundred miles an hour. I'd stay sober in the morning, drunk in the afternoon, high at night. I'd have Chinese food and tacos for dinner, spaghetti for breakfast and blueberry pie for lunch. Then I'd have anything I wanted in between, 'cause son"—here he took another hit, then looked at the ground, shaking his head—"pretty much all your choices are about to go away."

(p.  15)

He Died All Day Long

By Jon Wells

Unlike the other character who was actually on the receiving end of this advice, I am not headed to fight in the Vietnam War in nine days. It's not that serious. But I do feel like, for the next month, my "free time" is about as free as it's gonna be for a cool bit. I've gotten most of the admin tasks knocked out—apartment locked down, health insurance extended for a month, first tuition payment made today, etc. Every day's a little different, but they've been good. Full of books and full of family.

Pura Vida

Notes to Self

Let’s be honest. I’ve been putting off writing this post. I don’t completely want the closure that it brings. The last year that I spent living and working in Colombia was amazing for me, and I miss it like Everything but the Girl. In fact, there are one or two girls that I regret not stuffing in my suitcase and bringing home with me.

 In my last post I promised a two-part feature on the Senses and Memory. This week I offer part two, a retrospective in song paying tribute to the 10 tracks that will always carry me back to my second home.

The songs are not listed in any particular order, but the first group is made up of artists from Colombia, some new and some old. The second group are other songs that I listened to a ton and will always remind of my time spent in Colombia. Also, I decided to limit it to one song per artist/group, otherwise I would just have a long list of songs by Joe Arroyo and Silvestre Dangond.

COLOMBIAN ARTISTS

De Donde Vengo Yo - ChocQuibTown

The first time I heard this I was at a club called La Puerta in Santa Marta. It was a special night, and the sound of this song will always take me back.

Alza Los Pies - Colectro

I first saw Colectro play at Noche del Rio, during Carnaval in Barranquilla. I was pleasantly surprised to catch them again less than a week later playing at Berbetronik. It’s a great example of all the crazy and fun places that electro-cumbia music is going these days.

Yo Te Lo Dije - J. Balvín

The funny thing is that I don’t really like J. Balvín much. I’ve seen him perform live twice,  and both times I couldn’t quite grasp why all the women around me were losing their minds. Granted, I may not be his target audience, but the simple truth is that most of his catalogue is just not as good as this reggaeton gem.

El Columpio - El Afinaito

Unfortunately, this Champeta singer died at the young age of 36 less than a year before I arrived in Colombia. By the time I was leaving Barranquilla, this song had completely taken over as the unofficial summertime anthem of the country. This is a great sample of Champeta Urbana, one of the reigning types of dance music on the Caribbean coast.

Tu Loco - Martín Élias

Vallenato music gave me a new respect for the accordion—this up-tempo hit is modern Vallenato at its best.

Como Tu No Hay Dos - Buxxi

Buxxi helps put the small island of San Andrés on the musical map with his Soca-type club hit.

El Dilema - Silvestre Dangond & Juancho Espriella

This is the first Vallenato song that I can remember admitting to myself that I really liked.  Some of my first Aguila Lights and aguardiente tragos were downed while this was blasting in the background.

Viva el Amor - Kevin Florez

Another feel-good champeta track, with some of the most positive lyrics that you’ll ever hear in a popular dance song.

Otra Piedra En El Camino - Diomedes Diaz & Ivan Zuleta

A slower, more old-school vallenato song, representing the genre in its most romantic/corny/heart-wrenching form. 

En Barranquilla Me Quedo - Joe Arroyo

Nuff said. It’s amazing how little love Joe Arroyo gets outside of Colombia—he is salsa’s best kept secret!

Cielo de Tambores - Grupo Niche

Representing the Cali scene of Colombian salsa, this group is super-smooth. This is one of my favorites, a great song that walks the line between Salsa Romántica and Salsa Brava or Dura.

La Pantera Mambo - Orquesta La 33

Another gem that I heard for the first time while out dancing in Santa Marta. It’s always great to hear fresh “new” groups putting out top-notch salsa, this act hailing from Bogotá. You’ll definitely recognize the theme, and you’ll probably love the song before you finish hearing it for the first time.

OTHER ARTISTS

St. James Infirmary Blues - Traditional

I’ve liked this song for a while, but I had never had the chance to actually play it until this past year. While it wasn’t one of our staples, it was one of the funnest songs to play with Mango Jazz, and in my humble opinion, one of the ones that sounded the best. I’ll especially remember getting to play it one evening with Francisco joining us on clarinet, giving it a great New Orleans edge.

Tin Tin Deo - Dizzy Gillespie & Chano Pozo

This is one of the first Afro Latin songs that I learned to play on piano, probably back in seventh grade. My favorite version is an arrangement on a John Santos album that I scored at Jazz Camp about ten years back. Still, hearing this song will now remind me of Colombia, not elementary school or camping in the woods. I especially loved watching the melody get permanently stuck in our drummer, Camilo's, head after hearing it just once or twice.

La Llave - Cortijo y su Combo

I can’t really explain how this song became the unofficial anthem of Carnaval in Barranquilla. The song is 50 years old already, recorded by a Puerto Rican group. Regardless, it is one of the songs that you’ll probably hear there five times per day, no joda.

Las Tumbas - Ismael Rivera

This is another older Puerto Rican classic, and another one that I’ll associate with hanging out at Mazzino Pizzeria. On some nights when we weren’t playing there, we would just show up, plug a laptop into the speakers and enjoy some music on the patio. One particularly fine evening, I found myself crooning the opening lines to this tune along with Jaime as we both lost ourselves in the beauty of the sad melody.

Un Verano en Nueva York - El Gran Combo de Puerto Rico

Again, clearly not a song about Colombia. BUT, many a rug were cut over the past year with this one providing the motivation.

El Sonido Bestial - Richie Ray & Bobby Cruz

Before I got to Colombia, my favorite salsa song ever was “Pedro Nevaja” by Willie Colón and Rubén Blades. At my first house party in Barranquilla I heard El Sonido Bestial, and I had to change my mind pretty much on the spot. Partly because the song reworks the theme from Rachmaninoff’s Prelude in C Sharp Minor, one of my all-time favorite pieces of music. The real reason is because the song is just fierce... so if you can’t stand the heat then please stay off the dance floor!

I Know What I Know - Paul Simon

What!? I know, random right? Actually, it’s not all that surprising to find out how popular this song is after you listen to Champeta. The African musical traditions that Paul Simon mined to produce the Graceland album are the very same roots that provide the rhythmic foundation for the Champeta sound system movement.

Desnudate - Antonio Rosas

Double-entrendre, maybe? If you listen closely, Antonio Rosas is not literally telling you to take your clothes off. Still, the song is hot if you’re up for a little Salsa Romántica.

Mí Amor Lunatico - Giro Lopez

Another slightly curious staple of today’s radio rotation in Coastal Colombia. The song was recorded almost 20 years ago, but for some reason, it had it’s resurgence just in time for my arrival.

Cositas Que Haciamos - Farruko
Reggaeton is far from my favorite genre of music, but my time in Colombia helped me gain a new appreciation for it. This song sticks out because at one point I'm sure that no less than 75% of the population had this programmed in as the ringtone for their phone.

No Molestar - Michel El Buenon

Another late-night salsa party hit... “El amor se hizo para dos!”

El Faisan - Johnny Pacheco

This is the kind of goodie that would bang out of our speakers as we cleaned the house from top to bottom on a lazy hot sunday.

La Cartera - Orchestra Harlow

I can’t explain exactly what I love so much about this simple salsa classic. But I don’t have to explain myself—just give it a listen. It goes well with 1:30 AM and a willing dance partner.

So now I face the challenge of re-entry. Reintegration. Reorientation. Re-imagination. The good thing is, there are a few things that I can hold onto to keep my feet on the ground and my head on my shoulders. Music has always been one of those things, which I why I spent my very first week back in the States at Jazz Camp West. In fact, my week at camp was one of the last things I did in America before shipping out for Cape Verde in 2011. So, after reuniting with my keyboard after two years, I headed to the mountains for a week in my happy place.  The adjustment is a still a work in progress, but I'm doing OK :)

Pura Vida,

Drew