La gringa goes to aerobics.

This semester, I became inspired to partake in multiple weekly group exercise classes/teams—including yoga, spinning, swim team (very humbling!), pilates, and “futbol” (soccer, although I am rarely able to attend the practices). Each activity has provided me with its own humorous, insightful, embarrassing, and memorable moments. However, I’d like to dedicate this entry to a class that I took for the first time today: kick boxing aerobics.

For once, I was able to get up on time to attend my gym’s Wednesday morning kick boxing program, although I was running just a little bit late. The participants of the class (who were all women) were already hopping and bopping about when I arrived, and I attempted to jump right in and blend in with those in the back. This, however, was easier said then done-- as I was about a foot taller than any of my classmates, and my skin was about 10 shades lighter. Furthermore, instead of the brightly-colored, fashionable matching spandex outfits that they wore, I was wearing large mens’ basketball shorts and a baggy t-shirt.

A lot of Colombian women wear trendy outfits like these at the gym.

The instructor noted these differences right away and was soon paying lots of extra attention to me, which is exactly what I had not wanted. He was quickly right in my face, asking me in English, “What is your name? Where are you from? You like Colombia?” as I tried to stay with the rest of the group and keep from accidentally punching him in the face or kicking him somewhere unpleasant. It was quite awkward, and I wasn’t sure if I should stop a moment to converse with him, but I continued with the work-out while throwing in short responses to his questions periodically. He also decided that he needed him to show me each new step or move individually.

Whenever the teacher returned to the front of the class, he incorporated as many English words as he could into his instructions: “Up, down... Strong... Four, three, two, one... Drink water!” The other ladies shouted at him (in Spanish), “Why are you speaking English? Are you crazy? We’re in Colombia!” I felt that maybe they resented me because it was my fault their aerobics instructor suddenly felt the need to show off every English word he knew. I attempted to be friendly and agreeable and focus on my kickboxing aerobics skills, yet I was tempted to run away from the group and get my exercise for the day on an elliptical machine— alone.

I share this story because things like this happen to me all the time. I certainly don’t mind that people want to practice their English, and I am glad to help them out. But I can speak Spanish. And I do not enjoy being set apart from everyone else or treated as though I am in need of lots of extra help. Colombia may have some very confusing things that do require me to get assistance from a local (and I really do value everyone who has helped me out), but I think I’m capable of handling simple tasks like air punches and leg stretches by myself, right? :)