PBH / colombia (travelguide, pictures) / post

A Street In Chapinero

An extract from The Colombia Diary 2003
Friday 1st August

I woke up extremely tired and in pitch darkness. The little light on my watch told me the local time was 3 am. The theory goes that it takes one day for each hour difference to adjust when crossing time zones so six days then.

My bed is quite hard and there are cupboards right above my head, so I'm scared I'll forget in the morning, sit bolt upright and brain myself. The plus side is the bed is nice and warm. It's only a single bed, but I'm wrapped with a double quilt as well as two blankets. Plus I have my own bathroom, so I won't have to grope blindly through the kitchen to get out into the hall.

I try to sleep as best I can but it's short on and off naps, interspersed with long periods of just laying in the dark bored.

At six Mami knocks at my door and says she and Liz have been awake for ages too. I go into their room and we lie there talking. Tia Nury phones to welcome us to the country. Pretty soon, Tio Jaime and Abuela are up, it's early starts in this household, even though it already feels like noon to me. I'm starving, the fact I ate so little on the plane finally makes it's protest known.

Left over meat for breakfast. Mum promises we'll buy some cereals later. Tio Jaime says there are no plans for the day, and we can just relax after the flight and let ourselves adjust to the altitude and climate. It's not just that we'll have to get used to, it's a whole different world. Things I take for granted at home, now actually require thought, such as hand washing all my clothes, not having a hot water tap in the kitchen, not turning lights on until dark, not spending ages in the shower.

Utilities are so expensive in Colombia and Tio Jaime is paranoid about huge electricity and water bills. He's unscrewed all but two of the bulbs in the chandelier in the lounge. Personally I don't think that'll make a difference when the lights are switched on, electricity is still going through. Mami wonders if she'd be the same if she'd never left.

The phone is ringing constantly with relatives and friends welcoming us back, and inviting us to all manner of things. There are also numerous business calls for Jaime. Despite retiring thirteen years ago, it seems he's always working.

I resign myself to a freezing cold shower, but I'm pleasantly surprised to learn he does have hot water here. There's no hot water tap in the sink though, so for another day running I don't shave.

Mum and Liz are mainly busy unpacking and sorting things out. Tio Jaime asks me to come with him to buy the food for lunch and I eagerly accept. There's not much to do in the apartment and I want to see Bogotá in the daylight.

Jaime lives in Chapinero, just off Calle 63 and Av. Caracas. We talk a bit as we set off, but I'm a bit shy at first and not confident in my Spanish. I soon get back into the flow of using the language. I make a mental promise to speak Spanish at home but I say this all the time and it only ever lasts a few days before I revert back to English.

The city has a distinct smell, but I'm not sure how to describe it. Certainly Bogotá is a very polluted city, much more so than London. The dry tang of dust is always lurking in the background. The sunshine is very bright and I feel very hot in my jacket. Bogotá is a city of deceptive weather, you never know if it's going to rain or there's going to be a heat wave. The general rule of thumb is that it is like London in the spring. Its location high up in the Andes gives it an average daily temperature of 13o C, much cooler than the rest of the country. It's August so we're in the middle of the rainy season. Looking at the sky today however you wouldn't guess it. The sky isn't completely clear, and the sun bounces brilliantly off the clouds.

We head out down Av. Caracas. The local theatre is showing The Rape of Panama and the Cinema advertises Todopodroso [Bruce Almighty] and Los Angeles de Charlie: Al Limite. Chapinero is a commercial district and the main street is cram packed with shops of all kind. The streets are also full of street traders displaying everything from exotic fruits to newspapers to cigarettes to leather belts. It's only five minutes before I see my first beggar, a woman with only one leg. I feel sad but am powerless to do anything. The streets are busy with so many people and bicycles and the roads as always are swamped with a constant traffic jam of buses, taxis, trucks and cars.

Tio Jaime points out where Jorge Ivan works, the Av Villas bank. We head off past the Church and down to Calle 63. Tio Jaime points out the new Transmilenio bus service. They're like a combination of the Tube and the Bendy buses we have in London. Unlike how bus lanes work in theory in London, the Transmilenio routes are blocked off from the main traffic by concrete barriers.

We go to Olympica, the big chain supermarket. We only buy a few bottles of gaeseosa though. Afterwards, we go to a little grocers to buy the vegetables. It's in a little side street. The floor is covered in dirt and straw and there's a little white kitten with beautiful blue eyes moving freely about the sacks of food. I'm not certain of the hygiene, but I chastise myself for being a spoilt Brit. We buy a sack load of potatoes and yucca, plus mangoes, bananas, pineapple, carrots, tomatoes and pumpkins. It's quite a lot to carry and the plastic bag with the drinks in splits from the weight. We manage to get it back to the apartment eventually.

Abuela cooks up steak and vegetables. I'm a very fussy eater, but I do my best to eat as much as I can. Mami explains about my food habits, which lead Jaime and Abuela to pronounce Liz much more Latino than me, for she has a healthier appetite.

Don Alfonso pops by quickly after lunch for coffee. He is an old family friend, I think he works in the leather industry. He speaks faltering English to us, his ability is clumsy but I appreciate the effort he makes to include Liz and I in the conversations. Liz understands Spanish a lot better than I do, but she had the benefit of studying it for five years at school.

Afterwards, Mami just stays in talking with Jaime and Abuela. Liz and I read and play cards. We're quite jet lagged so not long after night falls we go to sleep.

By Cockney Colombian on Mar 24, 2006, 04:32 in Friendly Talkzone.

kat1 (Moderator) says on Mar 24, 2006, 04:57:

I know the feeling Cockney, me and my kids wake up at 3 am everytime we go to Colombia, everybody is sleep and we don't know what to do. we dont like to make a noise in case we wake up everybody, My mum said that when we are in Colombia, everybody is up at 6am. because of us. but comes 7pm and our eyes start to get really heavy and we fall sleep sometimes in the rocking chairs outside the house. it takes time to get used, but its no as bad as when you return to the UK we get up at 1pm!!!. I'll go for 3 days without eating, breakfast or lunch.

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tobntno says on Mar 24, 2006, 16:04:

Nice work nicely written and very easily identified with if one ever spent some time in Bogotá / Colombia ...

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poco says on Mar 24, 2006, 17:48:

We’ve seen this before Personally I don't think that'll make a difference when the lights are switched on, electricity is still going through.

Allowing me the opportunity to say your uncle was right, your statement is wrong, it does save electricity. I think Rubiazo had it right that 5 watt bulbs are the real saver.

I thought CC was gone, or morphed the personality disappeared. So,,, Why the re-post?

A Normal Day

"When you men get home and face an anti-war protester, look him in the eyes and shake his hand. Then, wink at his girlfriend, because she knows she's dating a pussy." Quote - General Tommy Franks

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kernow62 says on Mar 24, 2006, 18:10:

Why the re-post... perhaps because there are lots of new PBH members. To be truthful I missed it the first time, so whatever the reason I am glad he posted it.

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poco says on Mar 24, 2006, 18:12:

CC thanks you To be truthful I missed it the first time

That explains it.

"When you men get home and face an anti-war protester, look him in the eyes and shake his hand. Then, wink at his girlfriend, because she knows she's dating a pussy." Quote - General Tommy Franks

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Cockney Colombian says on Mar 25, 2006, 05:44:

No, no, I've always been here. I'm just an infrequent poster due to limited access to the internet.

There was I believe a cockney_colombian but he changed his name (To what, I don't know) when it was pointed out there were two of us and I had had the username for longer (It wasn't just chosen for this website, my Photo Blog which I've had much longer goes under that name too)

As for why the repost...

Simply because I'd forgotten I'd ever posted it in the first place! I had been planning to post further extracts from my 2003 diary but now I'm paranoid that I've already done so and forgotten about it!

So he was right about the lights. I believe Poco you also told me that the trick with the bags of water above tables to keep away the flies, also works as well!

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poco says on Mar 25, 2006, 10:31:

Listen to your uncle So he was right about the lights. I believe Poco you also told me that the trick with the bags of water above tables to keep away the flies, also works as well!

Thanks for the response. I was interested in your current “state of mind�?, a mind is a terrible thing to waste.

There was a point I was sure you were a "gonner" but the "other" CC morphed into quindoman and became a "kinder and gentler" poster, due in part to your insightful posts.

Colombia... En Mi Corazon For new posters, or those that missed it the first time this is worth reading.

Noticed that Tinto had his usual well researched input and I had my usual off topic link.

"When you men get home and face an anti-war protester, look him in the eyes and shake his hand. Then, wink at his girlfriend, because she knows she's dating a pussy." Quote - General Tommy Franks

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Cockney Colombian says on Mar 25, 2006, 11:32:

Thanks for the link back to that post, I was trying to find it the other day and failed dismally.

I realise that some of the points on that list are contradictory ie

Miss buses belching smoke
Don't miss Bogota pollution

But then I feel it is our contradictions which make us individuals.

As for my state of mind... I was offered a promotion at work to assistant manager.

So I quit.

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