Bogota: en resumen con carino

First, I want to give a big shout out to June Erlick’s book, Una Gringa in Bogota. I read it the week before I came down here and it was fantastic. She’s reflective and analytical without being long-winded and does a fantastic job keeping you at her side while she walks around the city doing ordinary things. Her stories offer insight the Colombian culture and Bogotan way of life, with her own perspectives, but she manages to avoid the Eat. Pray. Love. annoying factor.

So for sure my experience is framed by her book, which is best summed up as a 30-something year love affair with the country and in particular the capital city. She writes with the tenderness that only comes with a mature and deep affection cultivated over a number of years and having survived many changes. Mine is more of a blind date, three day weekend sort of romance at the moment, but certainly find Bogota to be a place that I wouldn’t mind investing in a longer-term relationship with. Thus, take my reflections below with a grain of salt, as they haven’t had time for much testing during my parachute in.

Up on top of old Mont Serrate

My first surprise was how walkable Bogota is. There are sidewalks everywhere and the crowds and traffic fairly peaceful, except at rush hour. Colombians are really all colors, and I feel pretty anonymous as I walk around, although I’ve been told that I’m fairly tall for a woman and my eyes, when I take off my sunglasses are a dead giveaway. Nonetheless, for the most part I can spend the day wandering while attracting only minimal attention. And there are plenty of fun spots to wander through. The city is huge—you don’t sense it when you’re in the old town (called La Candelaria as historically candles were made here), but once you head up to the top of Mont Serrate and take a look around, you see that it’s managed to creep up the surrounding hills as far as the eye can see. Skyscrapers are popping up, announcing the emerging growth in the financial and commerce sectors, and surrounding these upcoming districts are high-end apartment complexes and artsy restaurants. There are lots of these pockets hidden all over the place; instead of having a “Soho” or a “South End”, there are instead dozens of little places that you have to find, so wandering is quite rewarding in that way. For example, my first morning I headed over to the planetarium and the “Moorish” style Plaza de Toros. Up above it I noticed apartment complexes that I would later learn were designed by greatly admired Colombian architect Rogelio Salmona and greatly coveted. Walking still further up the hill, I stumbled on an area called La Macarena, which has become a bohemian hideout, with independent coffee shops and hippy hangouts. A friend took me uptown yesterday (which was a great chance to learn the bus routes—again, incredibly effective and simple compared to those that exist in many other cities worldwide), and showed me around Usaquen, a “town that was eaten by Bogota”. The old buildings have been preserved but filled with designer stores and cool restaurants; it is really amazing that you can walk through these narrow cobbled streets, passing stands with traditional Colombian crafts and fabrics, and then step into one of these beautiful buildings and be in proper Mercado with farmers selling fruits and vegetables I’ve never seen before (Lulo? Curuba? Yet to find a translation, but they are delicious!).

View of Catedral Primada from my perch (outdoor seating at El Corral) at the Gabriel Garcia Marquez Culture Center

I’ve been impressed with the importance placed on courtesy here. I’ve yet to see a rude interactions (although I stand corrected on my initial impression that there was no honking; Friday rush hour is cacophonous from the 3rd floor. . . . ), and I’ve watched the police telling a homeless man he has to move, disorganized queues to get on the bus, and shop owners with competing customers to see if I can’t catch one of them slipping up. They are courteous with me but usually not overtly friendly; I really have to make the first move and be pretty proactive if I want to break the ice. But, in the cases where I’ve been able to, it’s been quite rewarding. There is fresh fruit for sale on every street corner—green and ripe mango, pineapple, papaya, and bananas are the staples, as well as orange juice that they make to order. The going rate for a big cup of sliced and peeled mango (with honey or the works: lime, salt, and spice) is about 50 cents, so I have essentially alternated between dipping into bakeries for a steaming cup of café con leche and a tasty snack (corn arepas with queso are a favorite; empanadas are good too) and mango on the street. Just two blocks from my hotel, I found a fruit stand run by a very friendly couple. They are full of questions about the U.S., immigration policy, cold weather, the availability of tropical fruits, and all sorts of other things. I’ve gotten into the habit of heading there mid-morning to spend an hour or so just watching them work, meeting their regular customers, asking questions about their life and business, and getting an occasional bite of pineapple slipped my way (they are mainly amused by my constant sounds of delight at how incredibly sweet it is). It’s a privilege to have this kind of time, to do what some would call ethnography of a common space (Sidewalk style; a great read on Greenwich Village in NYC). It’s certainly stretching the bounds of my Spanish, but in a very healthy way. It was stretched another way when I was enticed out into the Bogota bar scene; there are a lot of universities in my area so I went dancing to one of them with a friend of a friend. Being coached in salsa, cumbia, and merengue in Spanish over the blaring music—you certainly don’t get that at most language schools.

Trying new fruit juices with Andres and Monica (who is taking the picture) at an upscale foodcourt in Zona Rosa.  Note that we're bundled up!

There’s more to tell, but the city beckons. I am leaving tomorrow for Cartagena; excited for the beach and warm weather, but more than a little sad to leave the city to which I’ve quickly grown attached. I’ll be excited to swing back through in another week or so. The abnormal amounts of rain have left some of the main highways impassable, so I may end up doing more of a hub and spoke model of travel (utilizing cheap airlines, at times) than my planned circular path. The joys of unplanned and constantly evolving travel.