Colombian Culture 201

Tomorrow, March 8 is International Women's Day, which seems to be celebrated everywhere but in the U.S. It is a day to celebrate all women, not just the mothers, who get all the attention on Mother's Day.

In our office, which is the Colombian headquarters for Opportunity International, the men are vastly outnumbered by the women, with a maybe 5 to 1 ratio. This fact, combined with the fact that some 90% of our loan clients are also women, inspired the men of the office to put together a little presentation honoring the women that, literally, make our organization run.

Every morning at 7:45 we have a meeting in the conference room with all the staff in the office. Opportunity being a "Christian-inspired" organization, this meeting usually consists of praying, reading passages from the Bible, and singing worship songs a cappella-style.

On Friday, after the usual activities, the Director of IT Harold took the stage, explaining that we men wanted to honor the women this morning. It was at this point that he whipped out a slick powerpoint presentation with a summary of the morning's activities. It was also at that point that I started wondering whether I was dreaming.

First item on the agenda was a powerpoint presentation - you know, those ones you usually get in chain emails with computer-animated sunsets and MIDI Greensleeves on repeat. It displayed a series of quotes comparing a "strong woman" to a "woman of strength." For example: "a strong woman works out every day......a woman of strength knows that her heart is her most important muscle." You get the idea.

The next event, as Harold explained to the excited crowd, would be an "international guest" who would recite a poem for us. Yup, you guessed it. That's me.

Here's a copy of the poem I read that morning, translated into English. Try to imagine me reading this out loud, melodramatic theatrics and everything, to a room full of Colombian women sighing and swooning with every line:

What would the world be like without women?

Humanity would not exist,

Love would not have any reason to exist,

Without her life would have no meaning.

What use would we have for mountains, the ocean, or lagoons?

The sky and stars would be worthless,

as would be the moon.

My god what would we do without her?

My days and nights would be without color,

With whom would I watch the sunset?

From where would I receive my warmth and comfort?

My life and my heart would be sad.

What would the world do without her presence?

Everything would be dead and silent,

the house, the garden would feel her absence.

There would be no life; only a desert.

Around you, woman, my universe revolves!

You are the most perfect of all God's creations.

That's why I write poems and verses,

Inexhaustible source of my admiration.

If I couldn't count on your presence,

the word 'love' would have no meaning.

I thank God for your existence,

It is for you my heart beats.

Inspirational muse of all my verses,

Blessed jewel, God's creation.

If you didn't exist in the universe,

There would only be sadness and desolation.

Happy Woman's Day to all!

Needless to say, I discovered a whole new level of embarrassment that I didn't even know existed: a hidden netherworld of shame known only to the most intrepid (and hapless) travelers. My face also discovered a whole new level of redness, which did nothing to discourage the ooing and awing.

But the morning wasn't over yet. Oh no, it was just getting started.

Harold announced that we had one more special guest, and just seconds after someone joked that it must be a mariachi band, a piercing trumpet and operatic yodel announced the arrival of an actual, living and breathing, Mexican-style mariachi band, to the shrieks and screams of the women in the room.

They had it down to a t. Gold-embroidered clothing in intricate patterns on their shoulders and down the sides of their pants. A guitar that looked homemade with a mobile amplification system they wheeled in on a cart. The lead singer had his hair slicked back and proceeded to belt out some of the most popular mariachi songs in Colombia (it's considered a legitimate musical genre here, not just a comedy gag).

The next half hour was more like a bachelorette party than a prayer meeting.

The women sang out loud and joked with each other, shrieking with laughter and teasing each other with pointing fingers. The singer at various times held the microphone up to one of their mouths, the impromptu performances earning enthusiastic cheers from their colleagues. A couple times the singer even invited one of the women to come to the front, placing one of the huge sombreros on her head as she danced her heart out with dramatic flamenco-like arm gestures and exaggerated steps, a sarcastic smirk on her face. For their last couple songs, the band played some slower songs, which had half the room in tears.

I tried to imagine something like this happening in the U.S., and for the life of me, no matter what the circumstances, I couldn't. As everyone went to their offices to begin the workday, I realized that even though they tried to copy the American office environment to the greatest extent possible, they had something different, something special. As I sat down at my desk and began my work, I found myself hoping that that something would never, ever go away.