What?! No way. Wow.

This is such an unbelievable story, it still blows my mind to think about it. When I decided to propose to my wife last year, I also decided to dedicate myself to make sure she's happy. I have done everything for her. I have supported her, both emotionally and financially, I have been faithful, loving, patient, understanding, fun, sexually satisfying, basically everything that a good man should do to the woman he loves. When she brought the idea to my attention last fall to take her to the US early, meaning she stays there while I finish my obligations here in Bogota, I was initially excited about it. At the time, she had a lot of maturing to do, a lot of personal growth to do, and a lot of independence to acknowledge. I knew it would be tough living apart and doing the long distance thing, but I knew that it would ultimately benefit her.

At some point, I recall one of my co-workers jokingly saying that she was going to meet some other guy. I never believed it because she had so much to risk and so much to lose: her new life in a new country, new opportunities, new friends, and a clean slate. I thought that it would be absolutely ridiculous for her to do something leave me for someone else. And that is exactly what she did. Within six weeks of the day I left in January to return to Bogota, she fell in love with her boss.

So we're divorcing. It'll be her second (and something tells me that it won't be her last) and my first (and last). She'll be returning to Bogota sooner rather than later. Apparently, her new man has promised her that he would come after her and marry her here. Little does he know that the only way that a US citizen can marry a Colombian citizen is if he or she is a legal resident of Colombia for at least six months continuously. Unfortunately for him, the maximum amount of time a US citizen can spend visiting Colombia is 90 days. Whatever. It's not my problem anymore.

I am still stunned that she could be so incredibly stupid and insecure about being alone. I'd like to say that I'm heartbroken but that hasn't really set in yet (if it even does). I'm still on the aghast high right now. I did absolutely nothing wrong. I fought the good fight. I did everything I could to help her make the right decisions and give her the advice she needed. It was ultimately her insecurities and her bad choices that ended everything. (Her new nickname is The FC.)

Time Fixes Everything

During the first week of February, I had the idea of giving a pop quiz to my 7th grade students when they had poor discipline. (Granted, I don't like to give academic punishments for disciplinary purposes, something my first supervisor Ana Maria taught me, but in this school it is widely and effectively used as an discipline-controlling tool and it works for my classes as well.) Since I teach both 7th grade Physics/Chemistry and Biology, I thought it appropriate to exercise the 'cross-curricular activities' preached by the administration and ask a question directly related to both Biology and Chemistry.

The students were learning about both the process of photosynthesis (in Biology) and chemical equations (in chemistry). So one of the questions on the pop quiz was: 'Name all the parts of the chemical equation for photosynthesis.' I didn't ask for the concentrations (i.e. I didn't ask that they know that there were six molecules of carbon dioxide), only the names of the molecules of the products and the reactants (carbon dioxide plus water using sunlight and energy from the sun produces oxygen and sugar). The students practically shit themselves with frustration. 'You can't ask a biology question in chemistry!' 'This is not fair!' I actually thought it was a legitimate question, seeing as how they recently learned the information (it was literally within the week prior, according to their Biology teacher).

The students complained to me, complained to my supervisor, and complained to each other. Then the supervisor and I spoke about it and concluded that the quiz was not unfair. Fast forward to yesterday when said supervisor comes up to me the day the bimester grades were to be turned in and asks me to not include the grade for the quiz. His reasoning was that the teacher of Biology for my class had not taught the topic of the chemical equation for photosynthesis. Apparently, his belief was that I wouldn't remember what the teacher told me and students themselves had said to me during class, that they had learned the information before my quiz and the quiz was fair. Rather than fight a losing battle and make his job difficult, I made a mental 'whatever' to myself and said ok.

Another, more serious, example of how time fixes everything is the case of Juan Camilo Prieto. Juan Camilo is a 6th grade student with learning difficulties. I didn't know he had learning difficulties until the first parent-teacher conference in October of last year, when his mother approached me and explained the situation. I suggested that the Head of Year (in charge of all 6th grade students) become involved so the three of us could collaborate as to what the best approach would be to teach the student (sometimes the student can do modified versions of the work in the class to best suit his abilities). I filed a report for the student and gave it to the Head of Year suggesting a meeting with the parents to discuss a fair approach to the students (the responsibility of the HoY). I have yet to attend any meeting. The HoY has completely ignored the situation. Meanwhile the student continues to underachieve and I have no choice but to treat him as an equal student, even though he has been diagnosed with a learning disorder.

Does this kind of bullshit happen often in schools in the U.S.?

Looking More Forward

I began thinking about why I don't really want to be here anymore and I concluded that there are many more freedoms which exist in the states. I can see Andrea and I in Denver or Los Angeles and just waking up in the morning, deciding to get out, strapping the mountain bikes to the top of the car, packing a lunch and drinks, and spending the day in the mountains above the LA basin or the beaches, or biking around one of the hundreds of bike trails in the metropolitan area of Denver. I can see us strapping on the snowboards and going to spend the day in Winter Park or Mammoth.

I miss having choices of things I love to do, outdoorsy stuff. I miss having a bike that is my size and is comfortable. I miss snowboarding. I'd like to learn how to Rollerblade. The logistics of doing things outdoors here are much more complicated (with the exception of Sundays from 7am to 2pm and even then you're limited to the streets designated to the Ciclovia). Maybe I just don't know about any mountain biking trails around the Andes mountains here, if there are any. But not having a car limits a person tremendously regardless of what city you live in or how well-designed the city is for car-less travel.

It's true I'm much more conscientious about my health being married to a personal trainer/fitness instructor. But what I think got me thinking is something my dad said recently which was that he started weight training and paying attention to his physique at about the same age I am now. I still don't see myself attending any gyms but I do see myself doing much more fun, athletic, outdoor activities in my near future. Maybe that's why I'm thinking more and more about getting out of here and starting again.

Looking Forward

I got back last night from a 10-day visit to the states. On my last evening there, I realized that I had no desire to return to Bogota. In fact, I was looking forward to it with dread. I knew then and there that it was time to go and I am going into survival mode: keep busy, eat right, don't look at the clock or the date too often, and do my job.

I left Andrea in Tucson not yet knowing what she will do for the next 10 weeks before I move back to the states; she mentioned that she was thinking of moving back to Bogota with me for that time, she also mentioned staying in Tucson to start a business with some friends she met while moving out of my parents' house to find her own place. I'm sure she'll decide on something soon.

The thought of leaving her again made my heart ache. I haven't felt that pain in a long time. It was more than just the pain of leaving her, it was also the worry that she will be alright. We made the decision to postpone the wedding until further notice. That may ultimately mean something or it may not mean anything. She explained that she wasn't ready to go through such a formal ceremony and, like always, I support that decision thinking that it is best for her. I understand that she's going through a difficult time (like me) but for different reasons. She's changing and she thinks this period of growth is best done in the solitude of aloneness, around no one familiar around. I don't completely know how to define that, only she does. And rather than put my foot down with selfish demands and ultimatums and impede this process, I have to step back and let her find herself. I feel very vulnerable doing this, like I'm putting it all at risk. All things being equal, I'd rather be there to help her and give her the emotional support she needs. I guess I am more worried about how everything will be when I return, after some time alone and more time apart from her. I know that when I return, it won't be the same as before, when we met, got to know each other, fell in love, and got married in Bogota. I can only hope that it's a somewhat different version of the most satisfying, most enjoyable, and most amazing time of my entire life.