Noise

Hello! Sorry that it’s been so long since I last wrote. How’ve you been? Feel free to drop a comment or call or text or email. I promise that I’ll write you back!

We were recently in Colombia for five weeks! The time abroad was specifically fantastic because: 1) I didn’t even get close to yelling at my mother in-law. Yay for self-regulation! 2) I visited two new cities, Ibagué and Neusa. Yay for seeing new places! Colombia has so many places that I have yet to explore. 3) I lost our dog but then quickly found her. Yay for not permanently losing our dog! Special shout out to Papa for not getting hit by a car and not being taken by a stranger. 4) Arí spent time with his Colombian family and seemed to have a blast. Also, the trip actually coincided with him starting to try solid foods, so he had a chance to sample several tropical fruits! 5) Yeye and I have been having some realizations about spending some more time living abroad. Still working on the exact timing of that future, but hopefully it’ll happen soon-ish.

There are more reasons that the trip was fantastic, but this list was getting too long!

Anywho, we flew back to the States a little over a week ago, and I for one was looking forward to some peace and quiet. I’ve noticed during past trips, but it definitely hit me this time around that Colombia is a very loud place. As I started composing this post in Bogotá, a guy was literally cutting bricks in half with a power tool in the courtyard of the apartment. This guy had been dividing bricks for a week. A week! It nearly got to the point that the grinding of his tool simply became normal background noise. The screeching blended with the honks of cars, the distinct rev of motorcycles, and the rumbling of heavy trucks. About 100 km away in Fusagasugá, a small city where my in-laws live, the sounds of motor vehicles mix with loud Latin music from the surrounding buildings, with the startling bang-banging of the washing machine due to its unbalancing spin cycle, with a food cart’s loud speaker repeatedly declaring, “Mazamorra! Mooooooooo (yes, the sound a cow makes)!”

There’s nothing like being away from your home for over a month to make you idealize it a bit. Sure, it’s somewhat more peaceful here, but our non-jumping washing machine can still make a healthy racket. The water heater creates a distinctive clicking sound that took us weeks to figure out the source. Sometimes my neighbor heads out of town and leaves his radio on, so before our trip, we listened to Christmas music 24/7 through the thin walls. The most impressive noise maker of all? Our nearly seven-month old human who’s cry could be utilized at CIA black sites to torture prisoners. Maybe he’ll be a singer like his mother because he sure can project!

So maybe it’s not too much quieter here at home, but it certainly is lonelier. The parking lot of our apartment complex is full of cars, but I typically only interact with a couple people per day while out walking Papa or checking the mail. There are simply fewer people strolling here (granted recent low temperatures were nearly in the single digits, but even on warmer days, the complex can seem a bit deserted) than in Fusa; there are no exercise classes for seniors, no adjacent businesses where people gather and sit and sip beverages for hours. Heck, we even asked for a to-go cup at a café in Ibagué, and the lid didn’t have a hole for drinking. Our local Starbucks with its winding drive through and gigantic cups with lids might as well be on another planet.

Experiencing this contrast through travel has helped me get better at noticing and appreciating rather than comparing and judging. Neither place is better than the other; both are flawed. Each trip I just get a little closer to getting to know myself by understanding what I like. For example, I don’t like receiving twelve ounces of coffee when I order a small, and I would prefer for a man not to cut a truck load of bricks outside of my window, and I would like to run into my neighbors often, and I want my friends and family to visit me or call me out of the blue.

Each journey abroad takes me a little deeper within. I’m already looking forward to the next trip.

Peace,

Alan