Currently I am...

¡Hola! I am, contrary to popular opinion, still alive!

Instead of filling in the (loooong) gap between my last post and this one with tales of what I've been up to (which will come "soon"), let's live in the moment, shall we? 

What am I up to now? (It feels like a much simpler question to answer...)

Reading: The Making of Modern Colombia. It's one of those books that I keep not picking up because, well, because it's a history book to be honest, but whenever I overcome my laziness I end up really getting into it (much like writing blog posts actually. Hmm, lesson to be learnt?) Also reading a lot of nutrition and exercise information as I'm hoping to do a course on it later this year.

Listening to: a lot of The Beatles. Pretty much required listening when in the company of my boyfriend. At least he has good taste, it could be much worse!

Laughing at: you. See previous link (and this one, in case you don't understand why).

Obsessing over: taekwondo. I'm now at the level my friend was when he introduced me to taekwondo. It turns out it isn't as hard as it looked after all, but at the same time, so much more difficult than it appeared!

Eating lots of: Cabbage. I'm still craving the bubble and squeak that I didn't have on Boxing Day. *sigh* There is no substitute for burnt brussels sprouts.

Planning: how to persuade a friend to let me borrow her oven. I've found some delicious-looking recipes that just won't work on the stovetop. I suppose sharing the results might work :)

Feeling: cold. No, not as cold as those back home, but a lot colder than my holiday was. The weather here is so random!

Discovering: how awesome German is. And how surprisingly similar to Spanish it is! I always thought that English was the 'bridge' between the Germanic and Latin languages, but I suppose Germany was Roman once too...

Looking at: my new art! I've been decorating my new flat with acrylic paints and cardboard. It turns out that painting is a lot more fun when you don't have a GCSE art teacher peering over your shoulder demanding explanations.

This says "Power to move mountains" and is the motto of my taekwondo school. Not that you can tell in this late night photo, but it's actually slightly 3D and 'hovering' off the wall. 

Wearing: lots of knit things (see "Feeling" above) and really enjoying it! Especially purple.

Cooking: lots of chai tea (so that would be boiling water, a couple of cloves, and a bit of cinnamon mixed with coconut milk. And this is what I call "cooking"? :D )

Trying out: lots of random herbs and spices on my breakfast of scrambled eggs every morning. If you like spicy food then it's hard to go wrong; if you make a mistake just cover it in chilli powder and you'll never be able to tell :D

Intending: to write another blog post soon! 

...and generally pottering along happily here in Bogotá. Life is good!

Bis später!

It's so wrong it's right / Es tan malo que es bueno

A long time ago, in a galaxy country far far away, I met some Colombians. Like all Colombians that I've had the pleasure to meet so far, they were full of enthusiasm for the country of their birth - regaling me with tales of all night salsa parties, weeks spent lying on Caribbean beaches, treks through virgin rainforest, and drinking hot chocolate with cheese.

Wait a minute, hot chocolate with cheese? Seriously? Since I first heard of that strange combination I have mocked it. What Brit wouldn't? If you say cheese to an Englishman he'll probably start thinking of Cheddar, or if he's partial to Wallace and Gromit (as we all should be, regardless of nationality) Wensleydale.  

Here though, to add to the confusion, it's a breakfast (but hot chocolate is for sleeping!) as common as cereal is in the UK. Colombians happily tell you it's just like putting marshmallows in your hot chocolate, but to be perfectly honest I've never thought much of that either. Nevertheless, when in Rome... 

The cheese gets ripped up and put in the chocolate. While it's melting the bread gets dunked and eaten too.

The cheese in question is like a firm mozzarella - reasonably bland but it melts (almost as) well. Once it's all soft then you fish it out with a teaspoon and get ... chocolate flavoured melted cheese. It's actually much better than it sounds!

However, the weirdness doesn't stop there... A couple of weeks ago I was served a tinto con limón. That would be a black coffee with lime. Again: Seriously?

It turns out that slices of lime don't float photogenically in black coffee, but there is lime in the cup as well as next to it, honest. 

The abundance of limes in this country (and the unexpected lack of lemons... what happened there?) makes putting lime juice in or on things common practice. If you haven't already, try papaya or mango with a squeeze of lime over it, or the next time you eat fatty pork or chicken soup do the same. Muy rico! That doesn't mean I was prepared to find lime in my coffee though :D Luckily it's one of those combinations that is surprisingly good (like chocolate limes), and in the past few days as I try to fight off a cold it's been providing me with some much needed vitamins (I think I'm winning but it's still too soon to tell). 

There are still a lot of "strange" foods in Colombia to try, but I think these are the only two are that are unique to the area (after all, you can find soups made with stomach and other "yucky bits" anywhere that people still eat traditionally), and they're certainly the only two that raised my eyebrows quite so far. 

Colombia: The only risk is... food poisoning? Thankfully not, no matter how strange the food gets ;)

PS: Colombians - if there's anything else "strange" I simply must try, please let me know in the comments! I've enjoyed everything I've tried... so far!

The end of an era / El final de una época

Yesterday marked a momentous occasion for me - I 'graduated' to the 8th gup (3rd level) of Taekwondo. I now have a 'real' martial arts belt (ie, not beginner's white) and I have to start preparing for combat and breaking things (...there's probably an official name for that). 

My old belt wrapped up for storage. The profe even wrote my name in purple! The white belt is for the first level, and the yellow stripe is for getting to the second.

Where I grew up university was pretty much a given. Out of the 120 people in my year at school I would say less than 10 didn't go to university, and of those who did, probably only another 5 never graduated (despite facebook I don't have exact statistics, sorry). The majority of my peers have (or have at least seriously considered) master's degrees or some other form of post-grad specialisation. Until I met lots of people from other backgrounds it never really crossed my mind that you could choose not to go to uni, or horrors! not even have the option (I've been extremely lucky just because of where I was born - thanks mum and dad!). Perhaps that's why my Taekwondo graduation ceremony yesterday seemed so much more momentous than I remember my university graduation to be - it was my own choice, paid for by me - not just 'what one does,' helped out considerably (= entirely) by my parents (or perhaps it's the almost decade that's passed since...).

Even the fact that I'm writing this on a different continent, in a country where the native language is not my own, doesn't seem as impressive to me as my new (bright yellow) belt. 

As part of the ceremony the teachers take off your old belt and tie the new one on for you. So very strange to be helped with your clothes in your late twenties!

When I first joined my dojang it was as a way of making new friends, and of spending more time with the friend I already had. It was something to do in the evenings and a form of exercise. It has become so much more than that.

Everyone cheers me on when I'm struggling, and congratulates me when I succeed - even if I was only trying to do 20 situps, a pathetic sum compared to the higher levels' 100. Just as much emphasis is placed on the theoretical and moral aspects of Taekwondo as on the physical - we have all sworn to be 'champions of justice and liberty' (I haven't picked my superhero name yet - suggestions on a postcard please). It's become my family away from home, the place where I can go to let off steam after a stressful day (punchbags ftw), share good news (and cakes), and remind myself that I'm rather awesome actually when I need to be.

Estrenando. Very pleased that while my white belt was a size 40, the yellow is only 38. I guess sit-ups do work after all!

As a competitive person (so much so that I even take being competitive competitively), I expected to be really upset (and to be completely honest, vengeful) about other people's successes when I couldn't equal them. Perhaps it's the belt system (the different colours are supposed to simultaneously motivate and humble us) but everything is just "OK" there. When I'm not as fast as everyone else, it's fine. If I can't complete the same number of pushups or kick quite as high or knock my partner over with a punch (we use lots of padding), there's no problem. Obviously there is plenty of friendly joking but no real comparison - you are what you are and your only benchmark is your own previous performance. (At this point my pride compels me to point out that actually I can kick really high and once (just once!) I was the fastest in the group.) It's the only place I really feel like I can let my guard down and just try, despite it being the only place I've ever had people queue up to hit me (yes, literally).

Me and my profe (V level black belt = don't mess).

I hope the day when I (have to?) leave Colombia is far in the future, but I already know that when and wherever I go next, I will miss these guys the most. When you come to Colombia, for whatever reason, the only certainty is that you will find (and fall in love with) much more than you expected.

감사합니다

How to: cheer yourself up / Como animarse

I got robbed. The next day I set off for DAS to try and get a new contraseña. That didn't go well, as they are under the impression I should pay $300,000 COP for a new one, and I do not suffer from this misconception (when I find out who is right I'll let the blogosphere know). So, what's a girl to do?

Well, if you're in a mood at DAS head south down the Cr 15. Next to the FotoJapon there's a couple selling really good arepas with cheese, ham, and eggs-with-onion-and-tomatoes for only 2300.

I challenge you to find something that tastes this good, is this filling, this closely resembles a balanced meal, is gluten free and costs less £1 in London. And where you get called a princess when they serve you :D A packet of crisps does not count.

Keep walking south on the Cr 15, stopping to get some fresh orange juice on the way, until you get to the Cl 85 with Cr 14. There you will find....

Knitting paradise! They even have seats outside to knit in!

La Mina! It's like the entire haberdashery department of John Lewis (including tiaras! I was very tempted) came to visit me in Colombia! Two balls of merino/alpaca and a couple of hours later I had a new hat:

Stuff you thieves - you can take my cédula but you can't take my knitting! Apparently you stole my ability to tidy up the stray ends of wool before I take photos though.

And just around the corner from that place of happiness, is this hairdressers:

Zoe: is life, is beauty.

Officially a good day after all :D

Why you should talk to the police

Once you've been robbed of (or merely lost) your documents you'll have to do something about replacing them. First step: Police! Lots of chocolate! Second Step: Police!

I wasn't exactly sure where or how to report crimes in Bogotá (and to be completely honest, I forget their equivalent of 999 about five seconds after I look it up. For future, and hopefully entirely unnecessary reference: 123). Thankfully, while I was stocking up on comfort food I found a pair of police officers. They were incredibly kind and helpful - not only telling me where to report the crime (just around the corner - phew!) but also regaling me with tales of ingenious pickpockets, the various times they'd been pickpocketed themselves, and just being nice and sympathetic in general. Feeling much less tonta (after all, if the police themselves get pickpocketed, I shouldn't feel bad about it happening to me!) I strode off to the police station where another pair of officers were outside. I'd arrived exactly at closing time (6pm) - noes! However, continuing the trend of lovely police officers one dashed inside to check that the relevant desk was still open, and came back saying that as I'm a foreigner (I strongly suspect he used a different word to the lady inside) they'll stay open five minutes just for me. 

Inside I was escorted to a comfy chair where a gorgeous lady with guns on her lapels (really not confidence inspiring to someone who's heard this story) took my details and gave me a form. In the end we decided to say that I had simply 'lost' my documents, as that form takes a matter of seconds to fill out and can be used immediately to apply for a new ID card. Actually filing a criminal complaint can take several weeks before you get to the point of being given useful papers, and besides, I really wasn't paying attention to the thieves so would be useless as a witness. 

All in all, visiting the police when you've been robbed is a really good idea. Not just because it's useful, but because they're all really good at cheering you up!

How to: get pick-pocketed / Como dar papaya

Well, this week I'm grateful for something that may surprise you: I'm grateful for being pickpocketed!

Last Tuesday I was happily minding my own business (mistake #1) on the way home from work. I got on the right bus (something that still makes me feel proud every time I do it - to the foreigners who've been here longer than I have: does the triumphant feeling ever go away? :D ) and sat near the back doors so that I could get off the bus easily. Nearing my 'stop' (ie: stretch of pavement) a woman got up in front of me and waited with her hand on the bell (on Colombian buses there is only one button to ring the bell, unlike in London where there are buttons all over the place). I asked her to ring for me please, and a couple of guys stood up behind me as if they wanted to get off at this stop too (it's next to a transmilenio footbridge and major crossroads - it's usually popular so I didn't think anything of it). When the bus screeched to a halt there was a polite kerfuffle of the 'you first, no, you first' type. I ended up getting off first, and... now that I think about it... last too. I don't believe the woman or the two guys got off with me. They stayed on the bus - as did my purse (with a pair of earrings that were gifted to me in it - nooooo! ), my diary (Why? What on earth did they think it was? Or do Colombians usually keep their cash in their diaries?) and my beautiful (I made it myself) little notebook in which I had not only tucked my ID cards, but had written all the useful buses, fun restaurants and knitting shops down in.

At this point I invite you to insert an appropriate string of expletives into the narrative. I'd provide my own selection but I know my grandmothers are going to read this. 

So, why am I grateful for this? Several reasons:

• I didn't have that much money with me in the first place. Yes, it was enough to buy me breakfast for a month, but in English money it was only about £20.
• There was absolutely no incriminating useful information in my diary whatsoever. For the last few weeks my timetable has been regular enough that I haven't needed to write down my classes in it, and I never got around to putting addresses or phone numbers in it. It had been a present though :(
• I have several more pretty little notebooks that I've made, so losing just one isn't a big deal. One of the ID cards inside it was from my old job, and therefore useless when not at that particular school, so no big loss to me. The other was, instead of being a real Cedula (official Colombian ID card) just the contraseña - an almost useless piece of paper that definitely won't let anyone open any bank accounts etc in my name. 

So, all in all it could definitely have been a lot worse. I didn't even realise they'd taken my things until two or three hours afterwards - vastly preferable to being mugged, wouldn't you say?

The moral of the story: wear angry boots more often :D

The Village / El Pueblo

Although Bogotá is Colombia's largest city (only half a million people less than London) sometimes it feels like a village in the middle of nowhere.

 For instance, would you really expect to find forested mountains less than 5 minutes away from the town centre (equivalent to Tottenham Court Road)?

Or see horse drawn carts that aren't for tourists, instead being used to transport (literally) all kinds of things? (No photo :( Apparently one of the things they transport is stolen goods so none of my friends have let me get my camera out near the zorros.)

 Or be entertained by chickens while you wait for your bus to work? (Or walk past cows on your way to the shops?)

Or have there be only one place in town where you can buy what you need? (OK, that's exaggerating. You can find things outside of their allotted district, but you'll never get the best price unless you go to the one shop street that sells it.)

Or see an entire roast pig on a regular basis? (My view of the countryside might not be entirely accurate, but I imagine people eat entire pigs quite often :D ) 

More big cities should do this, lechona is fantastic.

And I'm sure Bogotá is the last place on earth where there is always a gentleman offering his hand to you as you get off a bus (even at 6am). I can't imagine that happening in NY or London!

Strangely, I noticed this similarity while in a lift to the 27th floor. The view when I arrived was this:

I guess Bogotá is a big city after all... 

Things I'm grateful for this week

I gave in completely to the Olympics last week, and watched as much as I could in every spare moment I had, this was helped by the gymnastics (I'm convinced that they were all bitten by radioactive spiders as children) and the Taekwon-Do matches that I'd been waiting to see. (Hurrah for gold!) This week I was so happy to see Team GB doing well, and even happier to see the Colombians get a record breaking 8 medals (one gold, three silver and four bronze) - there are posters of the eight champions in al of the shopping centres, newspapers, magazines... Everywhere! Well done! I was happiest to see the end of the Olympics though - not because it's over but because it ended so well. That was an amazing concert :D (and for Christmas I want one of the Spice Girls' taxis please - best car ever after the Batmobile)

A little closer to (my temporary-ish) home, I owe plenty of gratitude to the kind strangers of Bogotá. In one day I managed to get on the wrong bus four times! Twice! (that's a total of 8 wrong buses...) Apparently 'straight down the Boyaca' does not mean 'straight down all of the Boyaca,' instead it means 'straight down the Boyaca until two blocks after I get on, then it goes West.' Oh, right... Similarly just because 'CAN' is written on the bus, doesn't mean that it will actually travel past CAN (unless I'm totally wrong about what CAN is. Quite likely.) Thankfully I have yet to find someone on a bus who doesn't enthusiastically give directions and advice on travelling in Bogotá in general. I've just got to learn to take advantage of this before I go through the turnstile and pay! 

Finally, although this is something I could say every week, I'm really glad I have internet access. This week it's helped me to reconnect to some lost acquaintances, get some extra classes to teach, and given me the inspiration and information I need to get some important (but boring) things sorted out. Thank you Britain for inventing the web (hey - it was in the opening ceremony for the Olympics - it must be true, right?)

Have a good week guys, there's only three days left until the weekend!

A random photo of the 'Summer Festival' in Simon Bolivar Park. This was taken just before the wind picked up, the sky filled with thousands (possibly literally) of kites, and my battery ran out, so I went to get barbecue instead of taking more pictures. I regret nothing ;)

It's the little things / Las cosas pequeñas

Most of the things I've written about here (or are planning to write about) are not Bogotá-based events - trips to the countryside, holidays in other countries, etc. 'My life in Bogotá' has become 'my life' faster than I'd expected. This is good (obviously) as I feel at home here, but I don't want to forget that I am, essentially, on holiday :D I also don't want anyone who's reading this outside Bogotá to miss out on the everyday pleasures of living here, or for me to forget what I get up to when I'm not having 'big adventures.' So, I've decided to post every week on the things that have made me happy. They may be specifically related to Bogotá, or they may just be cool things in general. They may even be completely forgotten about by the time next week comes along and it's time for another post :D

As everyone is talking about the Olympics, let's start there. One of the reasons I'm in Bogotá is to escape the Olympic madness that was predicted to descend on London this summer: the crowds, the transport problems, the even-more-expensive-than-usual prices, a shameful opening ceremony... I'd been planning to leave London during the Olympics since the games were first announced! Actually, it's not that bad! The opening ceremony was sweet, lovely, nostalgic, and just 'nice' in the way that I think only the English do so well. I'm so grateful that they didn't try to outdo the showiness of Beijing. Apparently the crowds in London aren't that bad either (everyone's probably escaped, as I have, or inside watching the games on TV) but I'm still glad I'm not there at the moment. Here I'm relatively unique, and one of the few Londoners available to be interrogated about asked whether we really do stop everything to drink tea at 5 o'clock, and if everyone is as tall as I am (I tell them I'm considered short in my country, heh heh). In London, I'd just be one of many, and all the foreigners would be able to see for themselves that actually we stop for a coffee break nowadays, and not just at 5pm.

So, although I'm glad I'm not in London right now, I'm even happier that I can still stay in touch with everyone over there. For the first time since Christmas I got to 'go' to a family reunion at my grandparents' house - travelling via Skype. I was sure I'd cry but in the end I was just so happy to see the majority of my family together, be able to listen in to my cousins fighting, hi-five my brother, and catch up on all the gossip that I completely forgot to be sad or nostalgic (I also forgot to wish my uncle a happy birthday, despite that being the reason for the party - sorry!). It was just lovely to 'be' there (although why did you all have to eat cake in front of me? Come on Skype, I want a cake/tea and biscuit transporter released in time for my birthday!). As much as I'm enjoying my time over here, I'm really glad that we are able to keep in touch. 

I've already put this on Facebook, but it's the best photo I've taken in 6 months, so I'm putting it here too:

My family: love you guys

The Traffic / How I'm going to die in Colombia

In one day (14/July - the day after Friday the 13th!) I saw/heard the after-effects of 3 separate car crashes.

In Fontibon high street, there was an elderly lady literally under a bus, with a crowd of police and facebook-journalists surrounding her. Thankfully she was under the body of the bus, not under a wheel, but I hate to think how she got there. After I had passed her twice (aimlessly wandering round shops) a paramedic came running up. Walking (purposefully this time - going to get lunch) in the direction from which he came, about 2 minutes later I came upon his ambulance stuck in traffic. If he hadn't started running there probably wouldn't have been any medics on the scene for at least another 10 minutes. Until I saw the next two crashes I thought that the late arrival of help was scarier than the probability of being in an accident.

Leaving Fontibon, walking down a small one-way street, I saw a bus 'parked' slightly inside a car at a T-junction. The traffic jam behind was rather amusing - despite concerned passers-by warning oncoming traffic that the road was blocked due to an accident, the majority of drivers continued down the road anyway. At least with the old lady under the bus there were police to help direct/calm the traffic, but as noone was hurt in this accident, I have no idea how long they had to wait for a tow truck/police/etc. Also amusing was the lorry full of chickens and the bus behind that, both stuck in the queue. I'm not sure whether the chickens or the passengers looked more fed up... :D

The third incident happened just off the 26th - the biggest, fastest motorway that I've seen in Bogotá (when it's not filled with traffic jams). A taxi (why did each accident include a public vehicle? If it were just private vehicles playing bumper cars I wouldn't mind so much, but I get buses and taxis...) was turning off the 26th into a side road, when another car came up, crashed into the side of the taxi, and got into the side road first. I think the car also ricocheted off a second taxi that was turning onto the 26th, but I'm not sure. I'd just crossed that road and was only a couple of dozen metres away when I heard the crash. I have no idea if the taxi was turning without signalling (highly likely), or if the other guy was going too fast (also highly likely), or if they were racing each other (also highly likely). The maximum speed limit appears to be interpreted as a bare minimum by taxi drivers here, despite the fact that driving more slowly would allow them to earn more as the meter ticks on...? As the drivers got out and started arguing I thought I could see the aftermath of yet another crash a little further down the 26th. As I got closer though I could see that it was just a random spot-checking of licences and insurance etc by the police. I wonder how long it took for them to realise there was an accident less than 100m away?

Now, there are many who would tell me that walking in/around Fontibon is a greater risk than getting into a public vehicle, but after today I'm not so sure... Especially not when my bus driver was counting change with both hands, steering with only his elbows while going at over 70km/hour. I wonder how long it will be until he's in an accident? Or me? :(

My Lucky Day / Mi Día de Suerte

Sometimes, whether life is tough and you want to forget your problems, or whether you're looking to celebrate a special day (I got my visa! One more year!), chocolate-based snacks become necessary. 

I was trying to decide between a Jumbo (milk chocolate with peanuts - terrifyingly addictive), arequipe (yummy South American caramel in a pot - also goes by the name dulce de leche), or ice-cream (you should know what that is!) when I came across this in the corner shop:

An ice-cream bar covered with milk chocolate and peanuts with an arequipe centre! 

Thank you Colombia

<3

How I feel in Bogotá / Como me siento en Bogotá

Sitting in a cafe in the north of Bogotá, with a magazine in my lap and the sun shining down, it's very easy to forget I'm sitting half way up a mountain, half way across the world from where I was born.

But then I notice the huge umbrellas permanently fixed above the patio because it is going to rain later, no matter how sunny it is now. I notice the cup in front of me lacks a green mermaid and instead has a yellow donkey. I realise that the National Geographic I'm holding is in Spanish, as is the conversation one table over that I've been eavesdropping on.

And I do this:

I tend not to document it when I grin like a fool, so this photo will have to do

Just in case anyone seriously thought I'd be coming back to London in June... Don't hold your breath. I'm having far too much fun over here ;)

Cute Kids / Niños Bonitos

Yesterday was a kind of 'holiday catch up day' at the local primary/secondary school that I have adopted (or have they adopted me?). Instead of taking separate days off school for each of the recent holidays they decided to roll them all into one big celebratory extravaganza.

For Language Day (in the UK known as Shakespeare's Birthday) there were special mentions and prizes (flag medals) for the children who had "excelled in their English or Spanish studies" (guess who I cheered the loudest for). No less than three special anthems were sung: the National Anthem (I think I can sing it better than the UK's one now that I've heard it so often), the local anthem for Bogotá (which I'm ashamed to say I had no idea existed, despite every Colombian city having one. Do we have any Urban Anthems in the UK?), and the school's own hymn ("We are young people who love Colombia, we will construct the future of our homeland walking on the paths of...?" - I couldn't catch the rest).

But then came the real celebration. Every Wednesday afternoon they have a class called "ludicas" in which they study drama, music, and English in groups of interest rather than age or grade. For the past few weeks these groups had been preparing a variety of skits, poems, and musical numbers for the grand recital.

I present to you, in their international debut, the English Theatre Group in "Three Dogs and a Cat"

Totally awesome! (I might be biased)

And the Spanish Theatre Group parodying El Chavo brilliantly:

Espanglish

In Colombia studying English is as compulsory as any other subject at school, and a certain level is required to be able to study at university. Despite this, only 1% of Colombians are at Intermediate level, and less than 0.08% are Advanced (official statistics here). At 35,000 people that's less than the capacity of a football stadium. I really can't blame them though, not when the Inglés Callejero that they see everyday is so... unique: 

"G Spot" - a hairdressers. On the corner of Carrera 13 and Calle 28, if anyone needs directions. 

One of many examples of a misplaced apostrophe. Ju'st becau'se there i's an "s" in a phra'se, doesn't mean it's nece's'sary to u'se an apo'strophe a's well. 

A sports bra called "Ding Dong"... 

... and another called "Clap Clap" - isn't that not the point of a sports bra?

I kind of understand "Sssh" for tiny underwear though.

And a pair called "Bleep!!" - I'm not sure why the exclamation marks are necessary, although again, the name is at least sort of logical. 

An unexpected merger between two communications giants. 

"Mr Handsome" nail clippers. I saw this and immediately thought of you, Mama ;)

On the other hand, the name "Punkyfish" doesn't bring to mind pink and sparkly hair accessories. 

Is anyone still wondering why I, as an English teacher by profession, came to Colombia?

PS - Sí, ya se la reputación de los ingleses y su falta de habilidad para hablar idiomas extranjeras. ¿Y que? </showing off> :D

Onboard Refreshments / Refrescos a Bordo

As someone recently mentioned, things are available for purchase on the buses here in Bogotá (please follow that link, and read part 2 to that story here). Usually the adventure starts with the salesperson apologising for the inconvenience of interrupting our journey (although most interruptions are welcomed as hardly anyone reads on buses here), then handing out samples to each passenger. Then the sales pitch (usually involving tuition fees and/or illness) starts in earnest. Finally the price is stated, along with the offer to take whatever spare change you have if you don't have enough money to pay the full price. If you don't want to buy it, just hand it back with a smile. 

I decided to buy everything that was offered to me on the buses for one week, and this is what I got:

(click on the photo to see a larger version)

1. A squeezy moldable toy head. I'm really not sure what the official name for this kind of toy is, but I'm sure you know what I mean. It was being sold by a man who claimed it was the perfect tool to educate your child and improve their hand mobility/agility and knowledge of shapes, or just as a stress reliever for yourself. What impressed me most about his pitch was that he managed to demonstrate how to play with the toy on a moving bus without falling over. (1,000)
2. El Tiempo. One of the main newspapers here. This is the Saturday edition which is huge! In the UK all the newspapers have been shrunk down to commuter friendly sizes, however this is still a real broadsheet. No wonder no-one reads the newspaper on the bus in Bogotá! There's no room! (Hence the creases.) This was being sold by a woman (an official vendor) who brought her 8 year old daughter on the bus with her. The girl had been reaching for something by standing on a bucket. This unfortunately tipped over and she was left with three partially paralysed fingers on one hand. The girl, as well as handing out the newspapers/collecting the coins showed off the (still red) scar on her wrist and palm. The mother had had to find work to pay for the doctors fees. (1,500)
3. Black bin liners. These were being sold by a really cheerful guy who appeared to be over 50. A father of two, he bought in bulk and sold to us in smaller packs so that we wouldn't have to go to all the trouble of going to the shops ourselves. Although that seems like he's giving away his secret (buy low, sell high), prices in different areas of Bogotá vary so much, it is actually a good deal to take advantage of. (1,000)
4. Two heart shaped lollipops. The first thing I bought before I realised making notes would be helpful when it came to writing this post. (200)
5. Two gummy sweets. These were sold by a very young man, probably late teens, who wanted money for his first child. 
6. Two bracelets (the other was a gift to Virgina, who was accompanying me). Sold by a man whose wife was pregnant and in hospital. (2,000)
7. Two packets of mints (one mint flavoured, the other strawberry-mint). The woman selling these hopped on and off the bus with a limp, saying that due to an incorrectly applied injection she had received in her leg, it permanently damaged her tendons. (700 for one pack, 1,000 for two)
8. Wink (a caramel/biscuit chocolate bar). Being sold on the Trece on a hot afternoon, while we were stuck in heavy traffic, these were extremely popular. The woman selling these only spent a couple of minutes on our bus before hopping on to the next one. Most sales-people don't pay for their tickets, instead giving a free sweet/bracelet/etc to the driver in exchange for the short ride. 

Not pictured:

• two rappers (who usually rap about the people on the bus or things we pass in the street - they really are quite good!)
• one guitar/vocal duo (one day I will have the courage to at least photo, if not record, a busker) and 
• one set of CDs designed to help your child master English (I had promised to buy everything offered for a week, but I just couldn't bring myself to go that far)
• Various pens, puzzle books, and colouring books. Sadly I wasn't offered any during the week, although I had seen them for sale before. 

Now, who wants to help me eat all of this sugar? I'm not sure I can (should) manage all by myself...

Sir Paul

I went to university in Liverpool with two main aims: get my degree in Classical Civilisations, and avoid The Beatles as much as possible. Why? I don't remember in the slightest, but it probably had to do with an extremely misplaced (and rather delayed) sense of teenage rebellion and wanting to be different.

Ten years later then, why was I jumping up and down, screaming like... well, like a Beatles fan, at Paul McCartney's first ever Colombian concert?

Not stars at night, but recording equipment: the first time video cameras/phones were allowed at one of his concerts.

Although I did successfully elude the majority of the Beatles' songs at uni, when I went back to Liverpool for the first time since graduating, I went as part of a tour with some students and friends. Chris (the man) and William (the bus) had arranged a weekend tour of Liverpool and Manchester, which left London via Abbey Road, arrived in Liverpool passing down Penny Lane, gave us time to visit the Beatles Story, and even let us sing in the Cavern Club (I declined, if you've ever heard me singing then you'll be wiping your brow in relief now). Resistance was futile, and I returned to London a fan.

Yes, we did non-Beatles things as well

Several Beatles tribute bands later, when I found out half the remaining members of the original and best were going to perform in Bogotá I had to get a ticket, and not just to see a Beatle, but to witness 'history.' El Campín (the main football stadium in Bogotá) had prohibited concerts taking place there to protect the (only) pitch (big enough to have international matches in Bogotá). Even Shakira had been denied permission to play there, despite going in person to the Mayor's office. Sir Paul, however, turned out to be more popular than Shakira (Jesus is still under debate) and was allowed the stadium due to popular demand. Chaos ensued.

Although more organised than the London Olympics ticket office, the website crashed due to the number of fans, there were 8 hour queues stretching round entire shopping centres, and the tickets sold in record time.

The successful 'few' who got tickets

Playing up to the hype like the showman (showoff?) he is, he advertised it as 'the concert of all time" and thankfully lived up to his PR.

I had to queue twice and go through a police check just to get this far... Another police check awaited me on the other side of this queue too.

Although it was certainly impressive to see him perform live (and the fireworks were unexpected and impressive during Live and Let Die) , I have to admit that my favourite moments  were listening to the 32,000 strong crowd of Colombians singing along:

Impressive, and more so when you remember that this is their second language!

Thank you Paul, for coming to Colombia. It was nice to 'meet' you at last.

I leave you with a song that'll get stuck in your head for a few days at least, to get you through your Monday morning blues:

PS: Chris and William are still touring the country, are ridiculously good company, and I cannot recommend them enough whether you are British or not. One of the first things on my to do list when I get back to the UK is to visit Stonehenge with them. Show me your photos if you go ;)

D.A.S.

If you search the internet for information about renewing your tourist visa in Colombia, you get a lot of old/conflicting information and horror stories. This is not useful when you've fallen in love with Colombia so much you aren't even thinking 'I don't want to go home yet' - instead you're thinking 'I don't want to leave home yet' and you don't know how to go about avoiding deportation. Therefore, I thought it might be useful to describe my experiences here.

When you arrive at the airport (if you're from a qualifying country) you'll be asked a few questions and given a stamp in your passport. This stamp gives you permission to stay as a tourist and can vary from 30 to 90 days. Luckily I got the full 90 from a very nice lady. I have no idea if she spoke English or not though.

87 days later I realise that time does indeed fly when you're having fun, and that due to the leap year it's actually been 88 days, and as I arrived in Bogotá at 11:45pm did those 15 minutes until midnight count as a full day? Might it have been 89 days already? Oh dear...

The official website for DAS (the Administrative Department of Security, ie: the Colombian Home Office) has, as far as I could make out, absolutely nothing relevant to foreigners trying to renew their visas whatsoever (if your Spanish is better than mine, please feel free to disagree). I called the information help line, and after explaining my situation 5 times to 5 different people, I was given a lot of very helpful (and almost entirely accurate) information:

• Do not go to the main DAS offices (which is where all other Colombians will point you).
• Go to Calle 100 with 11b, number 27 - the 'Platinum Building' (el Edificio Platino), Gound floor (primer piso).
• The offices are open Monday - Friday, 8am - 4pm.
• You will need to pay first at Banco de Occidente - there is a branch round the corner.
• The bank is open from 9am.
• You will need to pay 75050 pesos into account number 26305464-5, using bank code 103.
• Take the receipt, two photocopies of the main page of your passport, one photocopy of the original stamp you got at the airport, two 3x4cm passport photos with a blue background, and your passport.
• They will give you a form to fill out in the office.

I have no idea if any of the people I spoke to on the phone speak English.

On Thursday I woke up bright and early, put on my prettiest and most professional teaching clothes (looking good is a definite advantage in Colombia, if you look like a lazy student - my usual choice of attire - you will usually get treated like one) and set off. If you live close to the 26th, then you can get a bus towards Cedritos which will leave you a couple of blocks away from DAS on the 100 with 15. I recommend buying some of the freshly squeezed orange juice from one of the vendors on the way, as there are no refreshments offered inside DAS, and you might be in for a long wait. This will also give you a chance to ask for directions if you need them, as giving people money and looking good pretty much guarantees you good service :D

The bank (it must be a Banco de Occidente for some reason) is indeed very close to DAS, a mere two blocks further up the road (100 with 9 I think) and is on the same side of the road as DAS. When I arrived there was almost no-one in there, so I was able to go up to the counters several times to ask for help filling in the payment slip. There is a huge poster on the wall where they keep the different forms showing how to fill it in, but, being the paranoid and perfectionist Brit that I am, I double checked all of the information on the poster with the bank staff. Gold stars to each of them as they all answered me with patience and without rolling their eyes. Just so you know, the poster was 100% correct, and yes, you do have to write your passport number twice. As I was almost alone in the bank filling out the form and paying took all of ten minutes (including pestering the staff - in Spanish by the way). I paid in cash, and have no idea if paying by card is possible.

So, back down the 100 to the Edificio Platino, where a crowd is milling around outside. DAS have thoughtfully placed chairs and benches outside, but nowhere near enough for the number of people waiting. This is not a sight that fills one with hope. Thankfully, if you speak to the (flirty) doorman, he'll let you know that if you're renewing your visa you just go straight in, stand on the blue line, and go to whichever of the two desks is free first (even though one is labelled for disabled/pregnant/etc people), but if you've brought any friends or family with you to make the wait a little more interesting, they will have to wait outside (I'm so sorry Virginia - I didn't know!).

Inside the offices it looks almost exactly like a bank (minus the mortgage advertising). Following instructions I go to wait and a mere two minutes later I get asked for my passport. The man behind the counter checks whether it's your first time renewing or not, how long you've already been here, and why you want to stay. Flirting is recommended at this point, as is sucking up in general - I said I'm here because I'm in love with Colombia and I don't want to leave yet. The reply, with a wink, was 'Well, we'll have to give you the full 90 days so you can fall in love in Colombia then, won't we?' I suspect most women get that answer :D You'll receive a slip of paper with a list of required documents (only one passport photo, and only one photocopy of the main page of your passport, otherwise everything was the same as the lady on the phone told me) and a form to fill out.

The form given upon entering DAS

The form is simple (only one side of one page, thank God) and written in Spanish and English. I decided that for the purposes of immigration I am 'slim' (Why is this relevant? And why are the only other options 'medium' or 'strong?') and as I'm a geek I knew my blood type. I guessed slightly on my height (cm only, no feet and inches in Colombia) and nearly wrote down that my 'distinguishing feature' was that I'm 'really tall' until I came to my senses (forms make me nervous). You'll need to know your own phone number (mobiles are ok) and home/hostel/etc address, and those of a contact in Colombia. I called outside to my waiting friend and asked for her details. Again, if you can find a member of staff not currently talking to someone, they are very friendly and helpful, just like in the bank.

Having returned the form and all of the other documents to the same desk I got the form from, I was asked to wait (the ratio of chairs to people waiting on the inside of DAS is much better, plenty of free seats). About ten minutes later I was called to a back office to have a digital photo taken, and digital fingerprints. The scanner is so cool! Apparently it's just the same as a home scanner but it only uses green light (yes, I'm enough of a nerd/suck up that I asked). They take 'prints' of each of your hands, and then again of each finger individually, then send you outside to wait.

After about half an hour of perusing a copy of El Tiempo that someone had thoughtfully left behind, I was called up to one of the counters on the other side of the room. A lady with my passport and a big smile handed it back to me, explained that I'd got 90 days (YES!!!!) but that those were my last 90 days in Colombia. I wouldn't be able to renew this visa again (boo...). At this point I finally asked a really useful question: '¿Hay alguien aquí que hable Inglés?' and whether or not that question is grammatically correct, the answer was yes, everyone in the office speaks English.

The entire process, from entering the bank to getting my stamped passport back, took just over an hour. Muchisimas gracias a Virginia por haber elegido el bus correcto, por haber prestado tu boligrafo, y por haber esperado en la calle mientras yo arreglaba mi nueva visa.

I hope this information helps anyone in the same situation as me, although be aware that I've heard different things about different cities. In case it's relevant, I went on a Thursday morning, at about 10 o'clock.

My flag and my city, for another 90 days <3

ETA - if you've already had your full 180 days of tourist visas in Colombia this year, or you'd like to skip straight to the one year work visa without tying yourself to a particular job/company, have a look at these four posts:

How to get an independent work visa in Colombia:

1. Get a RUT
2. Register at the CC
3. Apply for your visa
4. Register with DAS

The Environment / El Medio Ambiente

As mentioned in my previous post, Colombia has a lot of impressive stuff. One of the most spectacular things here is its natural beauty - and this from someone who's only been to two sites outside Bogotá! I can't wait to explore the rest of this country.

Sadly, part of my desire to 'escape' Bogotá is to literally escape the pollution here in the capital. All kinds of vehicles, public and private, zoom by spewing out clouds of black smoke as they go. The buses and lories are the worst offenders:

(I wish I had been brave enough to take a photo like this myself, but instead I thank this blog)

In a city where more people are killed or injured every year in traffic accidents than in street crimes (I have no links in English to back that up, sorry) I understand that there are more urgent priorities. Similarly, as I have felt the frustration of the trancones myself I know that on a day to day basis reducing the number of vehicles on the road feels more important than what's coming out the back of said vehicles (and there are indeed various schemes to reduce traffic: an annual car free day (world's largest!) and pico y placa, for example).

It just seems so strange to compare the UK and Colombia in this way. In London everything is grey all the time (unless you have the fortune to be in one of the many wonderful parks on a sunny day). We don't really have much 'environment' (of the world-famous variety) around to protect. In Bogotá, however, there are so many grassy embankments in the middle of roads and so many flowering bushes by the sides of the pavements that even when it's pouring with rain you are surrounded by vibrant hues.  Yet it is in London that you find mandatory recycling schemes in houses (with up to 5 separate categories no less!), in London you find organic food, in London if you drive an eco-friendly vehicle you pay less tax, in London if a car produces too much pollution then it fails its MOT and can't be used until it's fixed, in London you often have to pay to receive a plastic carrier bag.... We have nothing compared to Colombia yet we protect it so fiercely, or is it better to say 'publicly'?

The Andes, covered with jungle and sunshine. Not a view I think we have in the UK.

For there is a lot of protection going on here, just not on quite as obvious (bureaucratic?) a scale:
The metal bins in the Simon Bolivar are compartmentalised and colour coded, and can even be swung down by children so that they can put their own waste in the correct place, and they look a lot older than the similar (plastic! = fail) bins in Oxford Street.
In houses and flats all over Bogotá the desire to save electricity and water borders on the obsessive (I do, however, suspect it is more about the money than the environment, but as noone admits that I must give them points for being green). In fact last year's "Earth Hour" was one of the more enthusiastic.
In Colombia, thanks to the 'eternal spring' there are always fresh fruit and vegetables available in season, so not as much of it has to be grown in greenhouses/imported from the other side of the world (added bonus: it tastes so much better too!), and almost every street has a greengrocers where the selection changes pretty much daily.
The Ciclovía was not only invented in Bogotá, but is one of the worlds largest. It's also a lot of fun :D
In primary schools children are not just able to draw you a reasonable map of Colombia, but tell you which parts are hot or cold and why, why they don't really have four seasons, what they have instead and how it works, and why Europe does have seasons. It may be that I just don't remember that part of my childhood (without cheating, do you know what the 'Coriolis effect' is and how it affects the weather here?), but the majority of adults here can also explain all of the above with labelled diagrams, so even if I was taught it, the Colombians were obviously taught 'better.'
In short, it looks like everyone here is aware of the problems the environment faces, and everyone wants to do what they can.

So, I will leave you with a picture of the "lungs of the Earth," something that everyone (except the darn bus drivers and plastic-bag-givers!) is trying to protect:

Confession: not the real Amazon. 

This photo was actually taken in the Botanical Gardens in Bogotá :D