Bogota Revisited; Friendly Police Dog

I dont think this Colombian cop wanted his dog to like me.  Neither did there seem much wisdom in training a gentle golden retriever for police work.  So far this has been the only unpleasantness during my less than twenty-four hours in Colombia.  I arrived late, at midnight and was at the back of  a huge line-up snaking its way slowly towards customs and immigration.  I also had to pay the airport tax that is imposed by Colombia on Canadian visitors as tit for tat for when the Harper Conservatives imposed visa requirements a few years ago on Colombian visitors.  It comes at around seventy-five dollars Canadian, up by about four dollars since last year as the friendly customs official informed me.  I had it all stuffed in a special envelope, 160,000 Colombian pesos only to be informed that it had gone up to 170,000.  He had a good sense of humour, unusual for those guys in immigration in any country, especially Canada, and smiled that I had written multa, the Spanish word for fine on the envelope.  As I found my way towards baggage claim I was accosted by those three rather scary looking cops in green fatigues with the friendly doggy.  The scariest looking one wanted to know how much money I had and also seemed decidedly annoyed when his dog nuzzled me for a pat.  So I patted him on the head (the dog, I mean).  When I offered to show him the money that I had he decided to let me go.

I was greeted by Alejandra, a very warm and intelligent lady of sixty or so who transports guests to the pension for a fee  It was great being greeted by a friendly face.  I arrived at 1;30 am and had a decent sleep.

I have been spending money today buying food, since I am taking care of my own breakfast needs this time and watching Colombians in a couple  of cafes.  I am already drawing and enjoying very pleasant weather, just warm enough.  The flowers are beautiful and the neighbourhood where Im staying again is quiet with tons of parks.

While sitting in the second cafe I was reminded again very strongly of the social inequality that mars many Latin american countries (and is also getting worse in our own precious Canada).  A rather thin and hungry looking boy of about ten or perhaps yonger came in to sell me some chocolate bars.  I politely refused though he was persistent and one of the staff asked him to leave. I always feel very sad and uncomfortable in this kind of situation (there would be something wrong with me if I didnt.)

I was told by the lady who met me at the airport last night that there is still a lot of machismo in Colombia and that the young people are changing very slowly.  This also reminds me of a movie I saw on the plane last night, Suffragette.  Go see it.  It is about the struggle of women in London fighting for the right to vote in the early Twentieth Century.  Meryl Streep does a couple of cameos.