The Americana Morenaza en Colombia~ Winter in Bogota

Buenos Dias from Colombia!

First,
I want to introduce you all to Max. Traveling to Colombia was my second trip with her. We met each other in Amsterdam last year and that trip was absolutely "amazeballs" (in her voice)! Tell me about the perfect qualities that someone should have in order to be a good traveling buddy and I will tell you that you are describing Maxine! Her and I met in university about eight years ago. We both went to NIU; she is my soror as well as a really good friend.

 I ended up finding a very cheap flight from Miami to Colombia and paid $180 to get to Bogota. Our plan is to visit Bogota, Medillin, and Cartegena. Because this was truly meant to be an adventure, we decided not to stay in the typical hotels. We ended up booking apartments on Airbnb and staying with local people who lived in the cities. We had our plan and on July 21st, we met in Bogota.

In Bogota we stayed with a very cute couple, Juliana and Juan. The both of them had just finished their own traveling adventure and were just returning home from Brazil. They spent an entire month traveling around Brazil following the World Cup fútbol games. When I arrived, it was about 1am and they stayed up telling me all about it. Shockingly, the rumors were true... Brazil wasn't quite ready to host the amount of people who intended to join them for the World Cup. The both of them told stories of how it was very difficult to find places to stay while there. One night, they found themselves in a horrible home with a box spring for a mattress... and the springs were bursting out. They said they spent about $200 a night there and couldn't dare to sleep on the bed. They rested on the couch until the next morning when they left to find other housing. Regular hotels were running for close to $1000 per night and even motels had the nerve to charge $600 per night. After hearing their stories, I was happy that Max and I decided to go to Colombia instead. They enjoyed being in the stands watching the games though; especially with how well Colombia was playing! I'm sure it was an opportunity of a lifetime.

Max arrived a little later than I.  The next morning we woke up and started exploring the city. I was a little skeptical because it reminded me so much of Casablanca... loud, crowded, and dirty,... loud, crowded, and dirty...did I mention Bogota was loud, crowded, and dirty? Before we went to bed, Juan told me what streets to avoid when we went out for our walk, however... I forgot. Thanks to me and my fabulous sense of direction, we ended up walking right into the "hood." I was scared... Max was walking around like there was no problem. I was trying to look like a dang local but she had TOURIST written all over her... iPhone out, most expensive jewelry blinging, talking loud... in English, those folks ain't speaking in English...we looked like targets! The craziest thing was walking to a corner where everything changed. Right across the street, we started to see other people that looked like us (no not Black folks!)... Tourists! The restaurants were nicer, the buildings were in one piece, the people looked well groomed... it felt safe. 

During our walk through the neighbor "hood", Max noticed some really cool rings that a man was making on the street. We approached him with our broken Spanish and began asking how much he was selling them for. Because he was actually making the rings, we ended up spending about two hours with him. Bernardo was making the rings and his friend Charlie came to chat with us while we were sitting. They were speaking in broken English and we were speaking in broken Spanish. I was so proud of myself  because I learned Spanish in high school about twelve years ago. I found out that it was still in my brain after all of those years. It was nestling between my inspiration to speak French and my anger in not understanding Arabic. The funny thing is... I've been to Spain... plenty of times... and my high school Spanish was useless there! In Colombia I felt like I knew how to speak another language! Charlie and Bernardo were cool and we had a great time chillin' with them.

After Max's purchase, we went to Masserati mountain. We took the teleferico to the top and saw a beautiful panorama view of the city. We randomly decided to take Charlie with us, Bernardo's friend. He said he hadn't been there in many years and he was very grateful that we had invited him to come. Bogotá is a beautiful city... especially at night!

Bogota was cold and rainy but the next day we we still decided to do a bike tour. There was a small group of us: four girls from Ireland, two guys from Germany, Max and I from the United States and Fernando (our tour guide) from Colombia. We hopped on our bikes and rolled out. Fernando took us to different places in the city that we would not have been fortunate to see on our own. He took us to a few different hoods. One in particular, Fernando said, "put your cameras away, hold on tight to your bags and don't stop until I tell you it's safe." Max is from Chicago and I'm from Dooley Drive so if we needed to use our street smarts and get "rough and tough wit our afro puffs"... that wouldn't have been a problem at all. The difference was amazing though...old houses, people sleeping on the street, trash everywhere. We made it safely though...aannnd we didn't have to knock a sucka out!

Bogota has a lot of history and there are many political things happening in the country. There is a history of corruption, drugs, prostitution...you know..the norm! Of course when our tour guide started discussing education, my ears were wide open. Like many other countries, there is no law or mandatory expectation that children need to go to school. Fernando said that there is no free education in Colombia. If a family wants their child to go to school then they have to come up with the money to pay the tuition. Of course there are "great" schools but not everyone can afford to send their children to them. Because there is a huge economic gap, families that can afford to send their children to school do and families that can't afford it, send their children to work. I'm sure there are plenty of labor jobs that don't require an education, however I assume that the problems of drugs, prostitution and mindless labor is dominant because of the lack of investment in education. Many children don't have the opportunity to go to school...so I'm not shocked that the little boy who was on the street trying to convince us to buy a necklace and a purse was only fifteen years old.

One consistent thing about being in Bogota was that Max and I were constantly getting all kind of stares from everyone. We were unsure why though. We didn't know if they thought we were prostitutes or if they just weren't used to seeing dark skinned people. We were told that there were many dark-skinned Colombians in the north so we assumed that they would be accostomed to seeing people like us.

During our bike tour, Fernando was explaining the history of the railroad track while I was taking pictures and looking at my camera. I just happened to look up and there was an older man standing right next to my bike staring down on me. I looked at him and said, "hola" and then he started speaking to me in Spanish. Because everyone was always trying to sell us stuff, I automatically said, "no gracias" but he kept talking. Then I noticed that he was speaking in like a suave...casanova type tone of voice. I thought to myself... I know this brotha ain't tryin' to hit on me. He stood there a second more which confirmed that he was. 1. We were on the bike tour with helmets and bikes and 2. He was about 60 years old!! I just remember yelling out... "Fernando... Help!" Fernando said something to him in Spanish and then looked at me like it was my fault. He told me to scoot my bike in with the rest of the group... I guess... I... just... didn't... look... like... I... was... with... the... group??????

 Later when the tour was over I asked Fernando if that guy thought I was a prostitute. He said "no, the guy was asking where I was from because he had never seen anyone so beautiful." He said to me, "he was well dressed"... I guess that was supposed to convince me to be interested in a one hundred year old man... so basically I should have let him take me out to dinner! He said when men think certain women are "very" beautiful, they refer to them as a "morenaza." Of course that got to my head... I guess I am a morenaza... I can dig it! I thought about getting back on my bike and going to find him...a Colombian sugar daddy doesn't sound all that bad!

Thanks for the wonderful time Bogota... Max and I are heading to Medillin...

Max's bike caught a flat tire...

Besos

In the coffee shop with Fernando

Sipping on some good 'ol Margaritas! 

Bogota...

Ruff Ryders... Taking over the streets of Bogota!