(I will be continually adding to this list)

  • Soooo many people here have adult braces. I'm talking 20 year olds, 30 year olds, 40 year olds. Angie (my volunteer coordinator) says it's because people here really care about their teeth. It was hard to get used to, but after awhile it just looks normal.
  • Beauuutiful dogs everywhere. Little dogs, shaggy dogs, galloping dogs, slobbering ones, Australian Shephards, Yorkies in pink sweaters, sad dogs, happy dogs, lazy dogs. I see men on bicycles with six leashes, simultaneously riding their bikes and walking their six dogs. Although a lot of the time, dogs don't need leashes here; they all just stay near their owners. 
  • People greet each other and say goodbye with a kiss on the cheek. They also say Ciao (although they spell it like Chau). I love both of these things; they seem quite graceful and sophisticated to me.
  • I don't think I've ever seen a Colombian girl out and about looking like crap. No T-shirts, ever. Hair and makeup always done, always wearing stylish outfits. Even on a college campus. 
  • On that note, nails always always always done. One time Miguel, the guy who I briefly dated, picked up my hand and looked at my nails (which looked like crap) and then dropped it without saying anything. Am I really living in a world where guys pay attention to your nails?!?
  • It's extremely normal to walk with your backpack on the front of your body, at least on and around the Transmilenio. It's to prevent theft, which is a huge problem here, but still..I have never seen anyone in the US doing that. 
  • It is also acceptable to RUN if you are late. I'm not talking about the speed walking, occasionally breaking into a jog and then embarrassedly falling back into a walk type of run I see in the States. I'm saying dudes in business suits and women in heels flat out RUNNING.
  • Time here is not punctual. This applies to both micro and macro things. Micro meaning, if someone says to meet at 1, they most likely mean 1:15. Macro meaning, we're getting new wifi in the volunteer apartment that was supposed to be finalized a week ago.
  • There are noooo PDA taboos here. You see couples making out on park benches or in the middle of the mall or in the coffee shop or whatever, and no one even bats an eye.
  • You don't tip. It's almost always included in the price. I like this because it psychologically feels better when paying at the end of a meal or in a cab.
  • People are shorter here.


OCT. 17
 
Friday night was the huge international soccer game between Colombia and Chile and I have never seen anything like it in my entire life. 

EVERYONE was watching this game. And I mean everyone in the entire country, everywhere. Leading up to the game you could hear all the pregame programming pouring out of every restaurant, bar and shop. People were selling yellow and white Colombian jerseys on every street corner-- standing from a distance looking at groups of people walking, they looked like hordes of bumblebees with all the yellow, with occasional freckles of white. 

Seriously, why isn't soccer a big deal in the US? I will never understand that. The biggest, most popular, most widely played and followed sport in the entire world..... is not a big deal in the US. 

I watched the game in a small bar with lots of long tables shoved together. The scene was made so much more intense because the bar was small and dark, which meant the projection of the game was all the more vivid, and that every time something happened, good or bad, I was almost oppressively surrounded by the reaction. 

You ever have those moments when you're just struck suddenly by how lucky you are or how beautiful life is? 

It's when you're just living, having a great time, fully immersed in what's happening, and then from out of nowhere, it's like your mind takes a step outside your body and gives it some perspective. Like, let me just put this in context for a second. 

I have one of those moments when I am sitting in this small, unimpressive bar in Bogota, Colombia. I am wearing a yellow Colombian football (yes, I am calling it football, not soccer. That's what it should be.) jersey in a room surrounded by happy, expressive Colombian people, all of whom are drinking Club Colombia, Poker, and Aguardiente. I'm surrounded by Spanish everywhere. Football, my favorite sport since forever, is on the screen, and it actually matters (unlike in the US). The game has come to a turning point and the energy is incredible. The whole room is screaming SI SE PUEDE! (Yes we can!) And I'm just sitting there blissed out, grateful for everything that has brought me to this moment, right here. 

At the end of the first half, Chile is winning 3-0. In the second half, Colombia CATCHES UP. ALL THREE POINTS. The game goes into overtime and no one scores but it doesn't matter because either way COLOMBIA IS GOING TO THE WORLD CUP.

Colombia. Is going. To the World Cup. 


There is something so, so incredible about an entire nation celebrating together. In the US, major sports competitions (that everyone there follows and talks about) are between cities. So we don't have the unity of the whole country rooting for the same thing...or celebrating its success if it happens.

I was in New Orleans this year for both Mardi Gras and the Superbowl, and the amount of celebrating that went on Friday night trumps them both. When I left the bar, I ran towards a massive group of raucous people and felt something whomp my face. Stunned, I was blinking through a mass of white powder. I was absolutely covered in flour. Insane fans were running around with bags of flour, throwing it everywhere, flinging it in people's faces and dumping it all over their clothes. They had aerosol spray cans and were spraying the foam wildly everywhere. Big blow-up swords were suddenly in everyone's hands, mine included, out of nowhere. Groups of people were jumping and screaming in unison, some cheers I understood and some I didn't, one of them being OLE, OLEEEE, OLEEE, OLEOLEOLE. Every car that passed by in the street was honking. 

I got on a bus and a homeless man held out a cup to a boy, asking for change, and the boy poured Aguardiente into it. The bus roared with laughter and the man chugged it all and then made a speech about how much he loved his country. Everyone on the bus sang chant after chant after chant and passed the Aguardiente around to everyone.

I got off the bus and was met with people SWARMING the streets. Like, swarming. People with faces painted, covered in flour and goop, were moshing in the street, still screaming and chanting and blowing hand horns. The cars were blowing real horns, as the masses of people had intentionally stopped traffic. In fact, they had not only held up traffic, but were climbing on the busses and leading chants from the top. 

People. Please, at some point in your life, experience something like this.

(Photos and videos pending.)
 
I have found my Mecca and it is called Theatron. 

It's a gay club in Chapinero, an area in Bogota. The cover is a little pricey, even by US standards- $30,000 pesos, or $15, but it includes an open bar for the entire night. 

There are three levels. THREE.

The first floor is electronic slash techno music. Think nnts-nnts-nnts-ntts. It has a DJ and a huge screen with really trippy visuals, like a nightmarish doll zooming closer on her face and her lips moving and stuff. 

There are pink glowing bars everywhere. There are also mini clubs inside it that are respectively for girls only and guys only.

The second floor is reggaeton, which sounds like reggae but is not--it's basically the Latino version of American popular music, except it's better than American dance music because it never gets old. (Seriously, it doesn't. I don't know why. Everyone knows all the words to every song and many of them have been around for a long time and no one ever seems to care.) 
Example: A really popular club song here--
Algo que me Gusta de Ti, Wisin y Yandel:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3rgwIp6D3ow 

The top floor is a huge open area that's sort of a mock terrace, all open air. There are mock buildings and mock cafes that have outdoor seating areas so people can sit down and chill from dancing for awhile. There is a hamburger/hot dog mini fast food place. There are mini pubs on this floor, leading off of the big open area, as well as a salsa/merengue room (although if there is a theme that night, it changes to things like an eighties music). 

On the open roof area, there is a movie theater marquee. If you go through the doors, you enter an absolutely massive room. You are standing on a platform that overlooks another platform, and another (that one has a bar on it), and another, stairs leading down to each one, each one lit a glowing neon pink, until it opens up to a completely massive dance floor and a stage. A show happens each night on the stage and the type of show varies. Above the stage are three giant screens playing music videos of whatever song it is, and most of them are generally epic. A lot of American music, like David Guetta or Lady Gaga and things like that. There are smoke and crazy colored laser lights everywhere and the place is always completely packed. 

Also, you can't go three steps without seeing at least five fabulous Colombian gay dudes. 

Like I said, this is my Mecca. 


SEPT. 20


Picture
The top floor, open-air. Photo cred Brie Wolf
 
I went on a date last night, and there's no way I can walk away from that experience without pointing out the quite apparent differences between Colombian guys and American guys.

His name is Miguel and we met at Gringo Tuesdays. He actually has the ability to dance by himself, without a girl on him. We danced all night and never once grinded. He spun me around and twirled me and tried to teach me how to salsa (note that I say 'tried').

He asked me if I wanted a beer, and not because he was trying to make me feel obliged to go home with him, or get me drunk enough to do so. When I left, he walked me out the door and got my number and told me he would call me tomorrow. 

I was not expecting to hear from him in the first place, because I cannot tell you the number of times I've met a (American) guy or something who said he would text me and then never did. But he actually called me. Like, on the phone. An actual phone call. I don't think American guys even use the call function on their phones anymore.

As if that weren't enough of a shock, he asked me to go out to dinner and to get drinks. Which maybe is normal for other people, I don't know, but I've been on about three dates in my life. The most recent was a few months ago, back in the US. We went to the movies. When we walked up to the movie ticket counter, the girl asked him, 'One ticket or two?' He paused for a minute, turned his head and looked at me, and then turned his head back. 'One.'

This is what I get in America. People like that and people I only hear from at 2:00 a.m. when they are drunk.

Miguel gave me his jacket when I was cold, even though I had on a sweater and he only had on a short-sleeve shirt. He held the door for me walking into the restaurant, which was a really pretty, cute little place called La Comedia. It had cool artsy graffiti drawings all over the walls and was super dark with real candles on the table, long spindly ones with the wax dripping down the stems. He paid for everything, no questions asked. 

Afterward, he rode the bus with me all the way home and walked me to the door, even though it was completely out of his way. 

Need I say more?



SEPT 18.



Picture
This isn't the same place we went to that night, it's a different bar/restaurant he took me to: emphasis on the quality dates, as well as the awesome little places like this that are all over Bogota. Is it not SO PERFECT
 
Picture
A group practicing their Spanish (according to the Colombian flag on the table) during the language exchange portion of the night. Copyright Gringo Tuesdays, Facebook page
There is a bar called La Villa right near our apartment and every Tuesday they hold an event called Gringo Tuesdays. Basically, people from everywhere- Colombians, Americans, Polish, Spaniards, Brits, Germans, French, whoever happens to be in Colombia at the moment, go there for a language exchange. People get into groups to practice whatever language they want to be practicing and just talk. It's a great place to meet people (not to mention good drink deals- two beers for $10,000 pesos, which is US $5). And then at 9, a DJ gets up--a DJ who also actually happens to be a famous Colombian supermodel-- and the whole place turns into a club, with a lot of American music. Not that I really came to Colombia to jam to American tunes. Not the best place to go if there are people who you would rather not run into, because it's pretty much the same crowd every week, but it's always a great time. 
 
The Irish Pub in Zona Rosa is the least Colombian thing ever. It's in the form of, you guessed it, an Irish pub, with lots of different kinds of (EXPENSIVE) beer. The signs on the walls and decorations are all in English. All the music is in English and a lot of it is American. When I walked in for the first time, a Steelers game was playing on the TV. Like, really? (Side note: I started watching the game because I, like any good Ravens fan, hate the filthy living crap out of the Steelers, and when the other team scored a touchdown I shouted YES and threw my fist in the air. A group of those super classy Colombian girls I was talking about before all turned their sleek heads and stared me down).

Irish has a really great atmosphere. Inside it's pretty dark and pub-like, but the outside area is fantastic for people-watching. There's an outdoor patio on a main strip in Zona T. There are lots of little tables and chairs everywhere, and lots of Colombians go there to shoot the shit and drink their expensive beer (which is US $5-US $7, by the way. Which is high for beer in the US. In Colombia, that is absurd. It's definitely an upscale place). There are heat lamps everywhere, which is great because they allow you to enjoy the outside atmosphere even at night, when it gets chilly. 

It's a really cool place to hang out, whether it's on a night when you just want to chill and have a drink, or on a Friday evening before you go do other stuff. 



SEPT. 16


Picture
By the way, Colombian beer sucks.
 
Picture
The "www.crepesandwaffles.com" in the corner was totally accidental. I should attempt to sell this to C&W as an advertisement.
Every place has its chain restaurants, and one of Colombia's is called Crepes and Waffles. It is a genius excellent invention. 

In 1980, two university students created the idea of Crepes and Waffles as their thesis. The university rejected it and they failed. Today they are billionaires. 

It's in the style of a French creperie: simple decorations, nice dim lighting, cozy feel. They have awesome food. Every kind of crepe imaginable, breakfast to dessert (OH MY GOD THE DESSERTS.), Mexican, vegetarian, you name it. And then tons of other kinds of awesome food, like juices and salads and soups and sandwiches and, yes, waffles. AND an ice cream bar. With flavors like arequipe (which is basically caramel) and mora (a delicious fruit which tastes like a mix between a blackberry and a raspberry). 

And by US standards (especially for the quality you're getting) it's cheap as hell. 

Best part of all, though: Crepes and Waffles hires only single mothers. I find this to be a very creative way of addressing and solving social problems as well as advancing society. It is a humbling thing to know that the woman who is serving you is using that money to support herself and her children alone. 


SEPT. 15
 
I have been in Bogota for maybe 24 hours and one of my new roommates (apartment-mates?) has been here for a few weeks now. I asked her if she likes it and she said, "I love it. It's sort of a beautiful, ugly, hot and old, organized and messy place."

Which is a great introduction, in my opinion.

So here's what I got so far:

  • I am fascinated by Colombian women- or Bogotanas, more specifically. We went out to dinner last night and looking around the restaurant at both the waitresses and the people dining there, the words that come to mind are stylish. Sophisticated. Polished. Well-kept, made-up, nails done, hair sleek, heels. They're all very graceful and emanate this sort of aura that's not haughty exactly, or bitchy, but just…. a very smooth exterior, a steely sort of confidence.
  • There's a major highway (autopista) inside the city-- I feel like a lot of cities have highways surrounding them but not on the inside-- and it isn't black. None of the roads are either. Sometimes there are big bridges going over the highways that connect one side to the other. 
  • There are SO MANY CABS EVERYWHERE.
  • Street food galore. Arepas, empanadas, good ol' perros calientes (some of which actually say "americanos") and hamburguesas. Super cheap.
  • I am constantly in awe of the velvet mountains, dark green and stunning, that rise over the city to the east.


SEPT. 15
Picture
The autopista that divides this part of the city.
Picture
On the left, arepas with eggs inside, on the right, empanadas. Classic street food
Picture
The eastern cordillera of the Andes that borders the entirety of Bogota to the east.

    Author

    Write something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview.

    Archives

    Octubre 2013

    Categories

    Todo