So we were like, in Bog-o-ta and...

Last weekend of September and my third weekend in row spent outside of Medellin…Man, I’m starting to feel like I live in suitcase. As I was making my way to the airport to catch my flight to Bogota on that sunny and pleasantly warm Thursday afternoon, I felt like jumping out of the cab and rolling my back to Medellin. However, after considering the speed I would hit the ground and my need for legal status with immigration here, my seatbelt remained secure.

I got to the airport in Rio Negro with ample time to sit and enjoy a coffee before boarding. As I sat and pondered as I am accustomed to doing from time to time- it’s called thinking and reflecting, try it sometime!- I realized airport security here in Colombia is like a dream compared to the TSA! There are no scanners shooting X-rays through your body, possibly damaging cells, and no thugs patting down children or Grandma Ethel in an inappropriate manner. Just good ole’ fashioned metal detectors and security guards who treat you as a human being and paying customer. How refreshing.

Anyway, I got a third call from my buddy Henry in the span of an hour and a half before boarding the plane-he just wanted to make sure I knew where I was going. Seriously though, Colombians can be that caring, but then at other times could care less about what you are saying, like in the middle of a conversation they will just stop listening to you and focus on something else. It’s actually rather amusing and has happened to me a number of times.

The flight to Bogota was great; in the air for no more than 50 minutes. Now that is how I like to travel. I got there at 8pm, which was my plan to avoid the world famous traffic there. I got to Henry’s house 20 minutes later and talked with him and his sister before turning in for the night because I had an early wake-up call to get my Visa. Now, Henry had class, but his sister took me on the famous bus line “The Transmillennium.”which is the only major transport system for the city. Medellin is the only city with a metro in Colombia! In comparison with the flight, traveling by this system is a nightmare; buses are crowded, run confusing routes, and have to stop at traffic lights. The best part of the ride is getting off, which I did around the city center where I met Henry after his class. He and I went to the government building and were there for no more than 30 minutes. Was this real? 30 minutes to do a GOVERNMENTAL process? I was amazed that things were taken care of the rapidly and efficiently, not what I expected from the Colombian government.

So we skipped out of the building and headed to the first place anyone would go after getting their visa successfully…The Bogota Beer Company, Yippee! Now, this is quality handcrafted beer and we ordered two pitchers because it was Happy Hour. I also must point out at this moment that there was actual sun shining this day, a rare occurrence in Bogota because the majority of the year it is cold, grey skies, or rainy. Although when the sun comes out, watch out. Although he rarely shows his face, when he does, he’ll burn yours off if you are a pale gringo like me of course.  After two hours of chugging brew and good conversation, we headed to grab some food at the biggest mall I have ever seen in my life, the name alone conveys this: TITAN Plaza. I ate a 1¹/ ₂  lb burger that would have made Ronald McDonald proud and topped it off with some Crepes n Waffles’ ice cream, which I have to say rivals some of the best ice creams I’ve had the pleasure of getting brain freezes from. But after all this excitement and food, we headed back to the Henry’s apartment for a long nap.

 

Upon awaking, we showered and headed out to the “T –Zone,” which is like the place to go out in Bogota, definitely a more wealthy area. I have to say though, while walking through I couldn’t help feel like I was in Boston or some other big hip city in the U.S. Basically, it was a chill night. We went to two bars and had a few beers. I got to meet Henry’s cousin and other friends. Reggae bar was the last stop. However, there is one funny story from this bar. As we were casually sipping on our cervezas, Henry noticed a drunken group of people sitting outside. The one fellow was off his rocker drunk, barely able to sit up straight. All of sudden Henry bursted out laughing and we spun our heads around to see this guy puking on the floor like it was his own bathroom. No one around seemed to notice or care, so he just kept going. The funniest thing was that drunk as he was, he was still trying to hide his sickly state by using a small coaster to cover his mouth as he turned to the side to upchuck his dinner. Yeah dude, don’t worry, no one sees the stream falling to the floor as long as you hide your mouth. After Henry doing a hilarious impression with his own coaster, sound included, we all laughed our way into a cab and headed home.

The next day, Saturday, I went out on my own to meet up with a friend of a friend. This Colombian helped me in the preliminary stages of deciding on where I wanted to study in this county. Her name is Juliana and she is one good journalist, I’ll tell ya. She basically wrote reports on each city for me, making my decision more informed and easier in the end. So, we met at the bus stop by her boyfriend’s house around 1pm and we proceeded to walk down Seventh Street, a famous walk way only open to pedestrians strolling their way through the city. Again, the reporter in her came out as we walked and she told me the history of Bogota and the areas we were passing through. After Seventh street, we ran into Bolivar Plaza, where the three main branches of government all have their buildings. In the center of the plaza is a statue of the man who liberated this country from Spanish rule, Simon Bolivar. She told me, there is never a time when a pigeon is not sitting on his head (see pic below).  Then, we walked into an old church which rivals  the scope of some I’ve seen in Europe. The next zone we traversed is called the Candaleria, which the oldest part of the city. It is full of funny street names and colorful buildings, which kind of reminded me of the neighborhood of Boca in Argentina. Juliana showed me some other cool spots like museums and libraries I wish I could have spent more time in, but we were on a tight schedule. So, we trudged on and made our way to apparently the oldest part of the city where a fountain marks the spot and the six original buildings that made up the settlement, as good a place as any to have lunch. I basically had the best juice I ever had in my life, but I can’t remember what it was now, seeing as I am writing this three weeks later since I drank it. O well, Juliana, if you are reading this, comment on the side what it was please!  After a nice lunch, Juliana had an engagement, so I thanked her for being a great guide and host, then we said our goodbyes and went on our own ways.

 

 

I decided to make a pit stop in the famous Gold Museum before heading back to see Henry. Now, this museum has more gold than the city of El Dorado and Atlantis and Fort Knox combined (well maybe that’s a stretch) and has some great exhibits. It is pretty amazing some of the designs and metal work they were doing in those ancient times. Check out some of the pics I snapped below.

I headed back around sunset to Henry’s and ate a quick dinner, so we could get to the birthday party of his friend on time. We got there and it was a pretty cool scene, seeing that it was the bar and restaurant of one of the most famous Colombian male singers, Carlos Vives; pretty good singer but no my cup of tea. All the songs sound the same and are overdramatic. I did an improvised impression of what the songs sound like to me and all the Colombians around me thought it was hilarious. Anyway, this girl was loaded I think so we had three big tables rented out on the second floor and all the booze we wanted to drink. Now, I maintain that I was doing a good job, not getting drunk and drinking water to remain hydrated. However, that is difficult to do seeing that all we did was dance for like three hours straight. As the night went on, my defenses weakened as the party goers all loosened up and wanted to get the only Gringo on the premise drunk. By around 2am they achieved their goal and the Aguardiente had me down for the count, so all of us hopped in a cab and headed back to Henry’s.

The next day was absolutely painful and I had to travel back to Medellin to make things worse. Apparently there was an earthquake, but yeah, I slept right through it thanks to the night before. So, Henry and I ate lunch together and I thanked him for everything, including being a gracious host and introducing me to all his friends. I then got my bags, fumbled my way into a cab, and went to the airport. Thank goodness for a short plane ride and I was back in the city I love. My buddy picked me up from the airport and I made my way back to my place. After throwing my bags in the corner and drinking a tall glass of water, I laid my head down to rest. Thus, the end to my Bogota adventure. It wasn’t my favorite city, but I believe I see it again before I leave. They’ll want their favorite gringo to return for round two I’m sure.

This Jesus piece is located in a church on Seventh Street in Bogota, apparently 

every year the hair miraculously grows.

 

Seasonal Changes

The month of September usually is a month, at least for me, that has always been a significant marker of time every year. What I mean to say is September is a month that stands out because of the many changes in brings, everything from weather to a new school year starting. However, this September has been one of the more memorable ones of seasons past for a number of reasons.

First, I moved into a new apartment and basically figured out my routine down here in Colombia. Once you find your stride in a relatively new place, things all of a sudden become more enjoyable; you have a favorite restaurant, you know where the find the best cup of coffee in town, that market in the plaza of America has the freshest produce, etc. I am finally feeling like I am apart of the city and can easily get around. I am participating more in class because of my own confidence and the trust I have in my classmates and professors. I even enhanced my fluidity in Spanish, but with all this positive comes a bit of negative; September flew by like the Space Shuttle's last flight over San Francisco last week. I can't believe we are already at the end of the month. After some more pondering it is actually easy to comprehend; a more amplified network of friends and increased participation in city life makes room for lots more activities- sorry but no karate in the garage yet. Here are some highlights of the past month...

The beginning of September was marked by an exam-blahhh no one wants to hear about that so we'll leave it at that. The second weekend was a bit more exciting because of a holiday called "Friendship and Love Day," which takes place on the 14th of September every year. Yeah, I know, Valentine's Day in September, totally weird, but hey, just go with it. Instead of a hot date or sharing a cup of joe with one of my pals, I was invited by my classmate Natalia to accompany her, her husband, and 11 year old daughter to a small town about 45 minutes outside of Medellin, called Rio Negro. Basically, it is a large open area high in the mountains where the international airport lies, along with tons of country homes, or more commonly known here as "fincas." However, our agenda was to go to a park where there was a free concert by the famous group here in Colombia, Puerto Candaleria. Check them out on the internet, they are some pretty sick dudes who put on a great live show. Although there was a concert, the park also serves as a tourist attraction. Tourists can pass through it and see how life was like in the past in a typical town in Colombia. Kind of like Williamsburgh, Virginia, but Colombian style; don't worry, it comes with all the works, including the cheesy reenactments. After a long day, we headed to a pizza place for dinner then drove back to Medellin. On the way back as their daughter slept, Natalia and her husband had a nice long chat with me. I found out that he played professional basketball for Colombia's national team- totally makes sense seeing that he is the by far the tallest Colombian male I have seen down here, and will probably stay that way. Also, I hate to admit it, but he knows more about the Pittsburgh Steelers than I do. So, the next week in class I gave Natalia the Terrible Towel I brought down with me so that her husband could have some authentic regalia, ah shucks I'm such a nice guy (trust me, wasn't that difficult to part with seeing that I couldn't care less about the NFL).

Puerto Candaleria

Chiva!!

The following weekend was even better. I headed out to another small town about two hours from Medellin with my buddy from class, Santiago Bedoya. Now, Santi, he is a business man. I mean the dude is a force, not only is he studying for a master degree; he's working full time during the week developing business ideas for rural folk, AND helping run the family business-coffee growing and mining. Yeah, he's a boss. Anyway, I woke up early Saturday morning, packed and eager to set out on another adventure. This one was a little more, oh how do I put it, authentic...than Rio Negro. First, the bus driver set out like they were filming a remake of Speed, I almost lost my lunch crossing into the Andes mountains. However, after an hour of swerving and bobbing, Santi said we were arriving to Santa Barbara. WAAAAY smaller than Medellin, but a good representation of how the majority of Colombians live. It was nice to see an authentic town and the mix of traditional life with that of the modern. One side of the road you see trucks transporting coffee and the other donkeys carrying bags of fruit or coffee-one thing is for sure, Colombia hasn't forgotten its roots. As we got close to the church, I tried to bust out some technical Spanish and ask Santi if that was the old Parish. However, unbeknownst to me, I actually somehow fuddled it up and said a slang word for Paramilitaries (bad group of people here in Colombia that have killed and hurt many). As soon as the words left my lips Santi, with huge eyes said "What?!!" After he told me of my error we chuckled and kept moving, although it would be a lie if I told you I didn't take a double take before crossing the rest of the plaza. After getting a quick bite, assuming we were close to his home, Santi told me come on, we have another bus to take. Problem was, this was no ordinary bus...this was a chiva. Now I will let the pictures do the talking, but this is what we road for almost an hour across the rough mountain terrain to get to the country home of Santi. Upon arrival, I was introduced to the fam and fed a wonderful homemade lunch; pretty sure the raspberry smoothie drink had been prepared mere minutes before my arrival. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, everything tastes better in the country.

Me and Santiago

After lunch, we headed to his Uncle's finca just up the road. Now, I have to point out, the views from these homes are pure greatness. The color and vibrancy of Colombia's landscape is astounding and puts many contenders to shame. Just take a look at the pics.

Tres Cordilleras

Now, the next issue was a business meeting of the family. Since the uncle, father, brothers, aunt are all involved, I decided to duck out and explore the farm when all of a sudden, I passed an open shed full of like 12 puppies. Cute, right?...Wrong. For the next half hour these dirtballs wouldn't let me be. I almost punted the one off a cliff because he wouldn't stop chewing on my shoelaces. However, even with all that fun, the time lagged on and on. Their meeting lasted I think close to two hours-it was sunset by the time they were done. I have to say though, my respect for Santi went way up because he seemed to be the leader in all of it. He is the perfect balance between small rural town and big city. He is very educated, but understands the less fortunate people and their needs; more importantly how to address them effectively. After the meeting it was party and food time, so we headed down to another Finca (don't worry everyone is welcome almost anywhere as long as you know someone) and prepared dinner: grilled steak, arepa, potatoes, rice, and lots of rum. We built a fire outside and talked for hours. It really was a nostalgic moment because it reminded me of camping with my family and how much I miss them. But, by 2am it was only me, Santi, and his middle brother. But even the strong grow weary, so we turned in too.

Waking up was painful, I decided to sleep in my contacts-worst idea ever. I woke up and could barely open my eyes and they were so red everyone asked me if I needed a doctor. So the rest of that Sunday was a pretty big wash. I couldnt tour the coffee production route like I wanted and I couldnt be outside because the light would burn my eyes. So after a few modest attempts to check out more of the farm, we headed up to his mom's place for our final lunch. It was Sancocho; a traditional plate in Colombia made with almost any kind of meat, but mostly chicken,  along with large pieces of plantain, yuca, potato, and cilantro. It is usually served with a plate of white rice on the side. Well...I had three servings, so I would recommend to anyone.
After lunch we sat on the porch and digested, all the while carrying on like family. One main question was "William, when are you coming back?" and as Santi and I boarded the bus back to Medellin, I thought to myself as soon as I get the chance.

Now that leaves one weekend left in September, but I must attest that the trip to Bogota deserves a blog post in its self. The only two things I can tell you now is it involves gold and over-dramatic male singers.