I wasn't going to do up a posting tonight, because I just arrived here after two straight days of very long bus rides, and I am tired, and I am sweaty, not to mention stinky and unshaved. But then I realized there is a fan pointed near me, so I will stay and type it up.
In the 6 days between this post and the last one I have traveled the entire length of Colombia, now finding myself on the Caribbean coast. The sunset here takes up the whole sky, I mean the whole damn sky, like a giant stained glass window. Which would make this my church? But I digress.
As promised, the Happy Birthday Pasto celebration was fun and excitement. There was a nice New World moment where a mariachi band from Jalisco in Mexico sang "Happy Birthday" in English to the Colombians of Pasto. I sauntered around the square, attempted to man-dance -- which involves some slow, quasi-rhythmic shoulder and hip motions and ABSOLUTELY NO EYE CONTACT WITH ANY OTHER MALES. That would just be embarrassing for everyone involved. There was some sort of incident behind the stage in which one guy was trying to chase down some other guy and beat him up, both being drunk, and instead the local police chased down the chasee and arrested him, and then let him go. When the police guy took him down -- and I mean he really took him down, WWF style -- everyone rushed over like in a high school fight. I sat, looking cool as I am occasionally wont to do, and watched the melee. On that note, there are a lot of army guys in Colombia who stand around with machine guns, in the cities, on the highways, everywhere. Again, not doing much, but still intimidating.
After the fiesta I went and had a sausage on a stick and a beer with the hotel people, then went to sleep, woke up, and hopped the bus to Cali, a 9 hour ride. Cali is fucking hot. I only spent one full day there, wandering to the Cali Zoo, which was nice and check the pictures for proof. Two separate individuals asked me for directions while I was walking around. Operation Blend-In a great success. Chatted with the hotel types about the new tax system the government put in, and general government complaints. I made the absolute worst meal I have ever made. Seriously here. It was supposed to be a simple pasta and tomato sauce deal, but apparently in Colombia "Salsa de Tomate" -- literally, 'tomate sauce' -- is actually ketchup. And "pasta" -- literally, 'pasta' -- tastes like shit. I threw most of it out. And just that morning my various fruit breakfast had been so good! Can't win 'em all, I guess. Eww, though, big eww.
Took the bus from Cali to Bogota, and attempted to cheat the expensive Colombian transportation system:
Taxi ride to Cali bus station: guy let me off at the traffic circle outside of the station, walked through a hidden tunnel to the station. Success!
Bus ride to Bogota: Tried to take two buses instead of one to avoid the expensive Cali departures. Ended up paying exactly the same. Bus ride was fun though, because I sat in the middle of the last row (which is raised up a little) and was able to greatly enjoy the roller coaster style of roads in south-east Colombia. Broke even overall.
Taxi ride to hostel in Bogota: Walked outside of the bus station because all the taxis inside were colluding on 10,000 flat rate. Ended up getting cheated and paying 15,000. And then that hostel was full and, just to spite Bogotan taxis, I walked to the other hostel (bad idea, I know). Failure :(
Overall: Failure -- the Bogota experience was more bad than the Cali one was good.
Woke up in Bogota in a foul mood, because of the previous day, general annoyances, and the lack of the expected Sunday afternoon Bogotan soccer games. I self-medicated myself by visiting a great art museum collection and deciding to leave Bogota the next day instead of staying two. The museum, the Botero, was great. It had a huge collection of random 19th and 20th century art, and a big collection of Botero work. For those neanderthals out there who aren't "in" the Colombian art world, Botero is a guy who paints and is Colombian. It is actual interesting work, most of his figures being...the word I would use is "swollen". They are all fat, moon-faced, big thighs and buttocks, and many of them have those eyes that follow you. Cool stuff.
Bogota and Cali are generally expensive cities, but I did find ice creams cones for 500 pesos (about 25 cents) after a nice African lunch of a whole fried fish, fried plantains, and coconut rice. I usually have difficulty with whole fish, but this one went well. And the restaurant had a big poster of Obama on the wall. My explanation of my connection to that figure resulted in a fist bump between myself and the proprietor. My first fist bump in a while, also went well.
Finished* Atlas Shrugged and traded it for JD Salinger's Franny and Zooey at the Bogota hotel. Huge library improvement in my mind. Monday morning bus ride to Bucaramanga.
BUCARAMANGA
Fun to say, fun to look at, and for me, fun to be in.
Side note: the name of the bus company was 'Autoboy'. Not sure why, but it attracted me.
In BUCARAMANGA, I walked a little ways up the street from the bus station instead of taking a taxi because I have become anti-taxi, and was able to ask around a locate a little guest house normally used by bus drivers. Convinced the lady to let me stay there with some charm and/or my obvious exhaustion. I'm going with charm, but you can draw your own conclusions, Oh Wise Reader. Bought some plantains and a soda at the local market, and when I walked back into the house the husband notified me that I could not eat these plantains, that they were only for frying. He asked his wife to fry them up, and she did so, and brought me a bowl of soup as well.
Which brings me to a Lesson of the Day: Not all mistakes turn out bad.
I chatted with the husband for a while about Colombia and America, politics, life, et cetera. He was really into it. He scooted his chair closer to mine when I started talking about how things are expensive in the States. Everyone's got their talking points. Afterwards, he left and I enjoyed my friend plantains, potato soup, and kola while watching music videos with the wife and her teenage son. There was one song I recognized, and so I asked the son who the artists was.
"Nigga," he said.
"What?" said I.
"Nigga. See?" and he pointed to the screen. "I've heard that a bad word or something in the US."
"Yeah, it is."
"Why?"
And so I tried to explain the history of that word and the difference between the "-er" ending and the "-a" ending. I think he understood, more or less.
BUCARAMANGA was very hot but I managed a solid night of sleep, only woken slightly in the early morning when rain came down heavy. Left early for a bus to here, Santa Marta. Another great meal along the way, two pork steaks, fried plantain mash, rice, beans, and boiled yucca. It is very hot and sweaty here, and I am going to attempt to sleep in my hammock tonight, strung up from the roof beams at a local hostel. Remains to be seen how well this works.
Tomorrow: beach and chilling. Oh yes. Chilling. Mmmhhhaaaaaa..
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