A coworker of mine asked me that question once at a staff meeting. What really put me off was his tone and phrasing when I announced that I was going to Bogota. (Where's that?). It's in Colombia, high in the Andes, 8500 feet above sea level, population of almost eight million. So this coworker says, ¨Why do you want to go THERE?¨ He has a tendency of asking inappropriate questions and fortunately I see him only once a month. But I simply replied ¨Long story¨ and as I expected it shut him up fast.
I have already written about the seven eagles I saw two weeks before I left for Bogota, of how they congregated mid air and all flew southeast in the direction of Colombia. I also told you about my friend from Bogota whom I met in Vancouver just days after I decided last June that I was going to Bogota, and of how she put me in contact with her father who lives here and who, like his daughter, has become a great and close friend to me. I also told you that after my work for years with a Colombian woman who came to Canada as a refugee, as well as other Colombians I have met and known in Vancouver, that I wanted to know more about this country, its culture and the way the traumas of war and conflict have impacted its people, and of the effects of the current renaissance that seems to be occurring here in Bogota.
I have also written about my desire to improve my Spanish while I'm here, and this seems to be already happening. I have also been enjoying facilitating local Bogotanos who wish to practice and improve their English. I have met some really great people here, regardless of some of my complaints about the public behaviour and questions about the collective maturity of Bogotanos. For example, this morning in a park, one young Colombian lout tossed his snotty kleenex on the footpath, when there was already a garbage container in easy reach. Of course I felt indignant and of course people in my dear beloved Vancouver don't do that and I had to refrain from yelling, ¨Señorito, perdiste de la basurera¨, or little sir, you missed the garbage can.
I have also written about Colombians' love of noise and lack of awareness of those impacted by their noise making. I am currently wearing my orange little friends (earplugs) while writing this. And of course there is the complete unawareness or indifference about body space. A friend and I were seated in a cafe, tiny place and we eventually had to leave because after a while too many people were almost sitting on our laps. I have nick-named the establishment ¨Culo en Cara¨or Ass in Face.
I was wanting to have more meaningful contact with the local Anglican church here in Bogota but there appear to be some obstacles. Colombia, like many other Latin American countries, is a mono culture, and I discerned that there was an expectation in the church that I should attend the English service instead of the Spanish. It doesn't seem to matter to these people that my Spanish is already very good and that I am actually here to improve my Spanish. It's all fallen on deaf ears. I have already written in a previous post about the obstacles to attending the English service, but really, I do not like this mentality here of everyone in their place so as a protest I have decided to boycott further church services while I am here. Unfortunately there are some parties who may take this personally and could even withdraw their friendship but I have decided that I am not going to compromise my values to suit the local prejudice.
Yesterday in the snooty Fench cafe I was squatting and drawing as usual when I noticed the couple who own the place come in with very unpleasant faces and talking to the staff in very unpleasant voices. Eventually I asked one of them, ¿Es usted la gerenta aqui? or are you the owner here. She smiled and replied mas o menos (more or less) I proceeded to tell her, que su cafeteria encuentro como muy encantador y me gusta mucho estar aqui y los empleados, las mozas son muy buena gente ( I find your cafe very enchanting and I really enjoy being here and the staff, the ladies working here are really great) One of the staff heard me and gave me a warm smile. A bit later that same twelve year old girl as last week came in to sell candy bars. The staff tried to chase her out but I ignored them and paid for the candy bar, saying to the girl Soy cliente aqui y tengo derecho (I am a customer here and I have a right to do this). As I was leaving, to placate the staff I bought a bag of very expensive truffles (almost twenty bucks Canadian) When I brought them back to my room I mixed them in my big plastic nutrition jar. I brought this with me from Canada, a mixture of trail mix, chocolate chips and cashews, to help supplement my diet while I'm here
in Bogota. I have since kept adding odds and ends, M and M's, almonds, peanuts and raisins, and now these decadent truffles in the mix, intense chocolate soaked in rum!
This morning over breakfast I had an interesting chat with the husband of the couple who owns the pension where I am staying. He is from Switzerland and lectures in the local public university about political science. We had an interesting chat, all in Spanish (his first language is French) about social inequality in Bogota. Because it's a public university he works in he said he gets students from a very wide range of socio-economic backgrounds and the classroom discussions often get very interesting and energetic.
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