An Unexpected Consequence of Moving to Colombia

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Before, I tell you, got any guesses? Could it be that I can no longer say the word "bucket" without winking with my left eye? Or that I forgot how to use shampoo? Or maybe, I've suddenly gained the capability to naturally excrete pure iron?

No, none of those is the correct answer, though if it was the 3rd thing you can bet I'd be getting in touch with Canadian engineering schools. Actually, the unexpected consequence I wish to tell you about today is that I've become substantially clumsier.

At first I thought it was just a coincidence, but after 2 months of data, the sample size is becoming undeniably meaningful. I broke another glass last night, which brings me up to approximately 5 dishes on the year. I can specifically remember a mug, a pot and last night's glass, but I know there have been a couple others.

And I'm just spilling stuff all over the place. You should see my kitchen floor! Actually, it's pretty clean, but only because I mop it out of necessity basically every day. It's not just food, either - 2 days ago I knocked an entire frying pan, complete with frying sausage, onto the floor, where it landed perfectly upside down, covering the sausage.

I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've put my hand on something hot, or forgotten that a pot of water had just been boiling, or gotten off a moto-taxi and badly burned my leg on the exhaust pipe. Okay, that last one only happened once, but it definitely scabbed up and I still have a mark a week and a half later.

I've even near-electrocuted myself a couple times. Most recently, I had a huge stack of dishes in the sink, waiting to be cleaned. Because of this mess, water wasn't getting through to the drain, so as I was cleaning, the sink began to fill with water. Suddenly, I got a shock and instinctively jerked my hand out of the water. Confused, I examined the scene and discovered that my new electric orange juicer was one of the dishes in the sink, and was not only still plugged in, but had somehow turned itself on. Smooth, Dave. (it happened another time with my razor)

And of course, there's the physical trauma. I've probably walked into walls, or quickly gotten up in a low ceiling areas, and even managed to get kicked in the nuts harder than I ever have been before, but the most infamous (if you're a regular reader, anyway) incident was when I stubbed my toe. Oh, and I haven't blogged about this since immediately after it happened, but I think there's a pretty good chance I broke it. It hurt for a solid 3 weeks, but I never got it checked out, partially because I'm lazy, and partially because a friend told me there's almost nothing you can do about broken toes.

The question is: what's the reason for this sudden increase in clumsiness? Is it the heat? Maybe it's the language barrier? Like, I haven't learned how to cook in Spanish yet? Or something?

I dunno man, it's pretty weird. I do have one plausible theory, though. Here in Barranquilla, almost everyone has a maid, and it has been recommended to me multiple times. Most of the instances in which I've engaged in clumsiness were during menial tasks that a maid would likely be doing. I guess the universe is trying to tell me something.