Bogota Day Two

I love it here!

I think it's the weather. Live in Los Angeles long enough and you forget those New England fall days. When the sun isn't so bright and there's just a hint of crispness in the air and even though the world is dying, you feel so alive.

Funny to be reminded of seasons in a place where there are none. But when the sun starts to fade in the middle of the afternoon I get that feeling I do when I listen to my favorite records, when it's just me, enveloped in the sound, looking at the liner notes or staring out the window. The cold weather makes everybody a better conversationalist. It's as if talking keeps you warm.

And the Colombians know how to talk.

Everybody's so friendly! The U.S. is about airs. About your place in the firmament. You wear your status on your sleeve. But everybody I've interacted with is...eager to do just that. Interact! Talk! Tell their story! Hear yours!

And I've heard some doozies.

But before I get started I do want to say that income inequality is rampant in Bogota, just like in the United States. But unlike in the U.S., the poor people live in the hills, not the rich. Oh, the rich are on some of the mountaintops encircling the city, but just below them are...well not exactly shanties, but just by looking at these habitats you know they're not upscale. You see the poor people build on the fringe, on the hills, they squat, and eventually their domiciles are legalized.

Bogota is like L.A. Or Berlin. Essentially flat and endless. Getting from one end to the other is hell. There is no subway, I saw only one train. There are these mini-buses, seemingly always full, that dart around, but Wendy said she hadn't ridden in one and never would.

Because she was afraid.

And Fernan's Nissan is armored. Cost him 30k on top of the 60k for the Xterra to begin with. Everything's cheap here but the cars. Well, if it's imported, it's probably expensive. If it's homegrown, the prices can seem absurdly low to a gringo.

Like lunch. An exclusive place in the business district. Well, the old business district, about thirty years ago the whole city moved north, this is close to downtown. There was no sign on the door. You had to step over the transom. The door to the bathroom was...like the door to a stall. But the tablecloths were white and the fusion food was exquisite and in L.A. the meal for the three of us would have been about $240, eighty dollars apiece. But here it was $90.

And last night at Andres, for three once again, it was even cheaper!

Andres... On one hand you think it's a tourist trap. Kind of like the Great American Food and Beverage Company, if you've lived in L.A. that long. Singing waiters. Well, kinda. But it turns out to be one of the best restaurants in Bogota! The original, outside of town, is the most famous, where people dance on the tables. But this one, not far from my hotel, has four levels. And there are roving musicians. And the food to a gringo is like Mexican, but not really. There were these tiny little pork ribs. And empanadas. And this pie-like concoction that seemed to be filled with potato latkes and meat, you dipped it in sour cream, and I could not stop eating it. And then they served steak on a plate so hot it continued to cook, and it was scrumptious! As for dessert, it was cheese in this maple syrup type sauce and to say it was delicious is an understatement. And, there's a roving band, and of course they said it was my birthday, so they put a sash and a crown upon me and this woman in a cat suit sang to me and normally I'm too embarrassed to endure fake birthdays, but this was hilarious.

And all through dinner Fernan was regaling me with his stories. Of working with Julio Iglesias. Julio's hilarious. Narcissistic as hell, he knows what it takes to be successful, what side to be photographed from, how to arrive late and leave early from a party (Julio has always got to be somewhere!), how to make sure people don't see his deficiencies. It was a book, a sitcom, a movie, the stories were endless. And Fernan managed Julio's son, Enrique. And then Juanes. He was turned off by the tattoos, but once Fernan's wife wanted one, he was hipped to the new reality.

And Fernan's promoting Beyonce in a stadium in Medellin, and he did Paul McCartney, who brought his buddy up on stage to protest bull fighting, which has now been banned, but Fernan took me to the bullring anyway, which was ancient and impressive. And having started out as a journalist, Fernan's a man of ideas. He's always thinking. Of angles. No one makes it without a good manager. And I could see he is one.

And we went downtown to see the President's Palace and... There were a ton of police and areas were roped off because of last week's protests, all the roads were closed then. Those in agriculture are angry. Because of fair trade with America, the bottom is falling out of prices. They're beyond pissed. Americans are shipping the parts of chickens people won't eat, everything but the breast, and chicken prices have crashed. It's a quagmire.

And the mayor is an old guerilla. He just passed an ordinance wherein if you build a high rise, which was previously forbidden, you have to dedicate 30% of the floor space to the poor, or pay a 30% tax to fund housing for the poor. He went over the city council's head. To employ a pun, it's still up in the air.

But Colombia's economy is humming, with oil and other natural resources. America loves it, since so many South American countries lean further left. And the Americans helped halt the drug war, but the drug trade won't be stopped until there's legalization, the farmers can't say no to the amount of money they're paid to grow cocaine.

And speaking of crime, Wendy's father, Rafael Orozco, the famous vallenato singer, was gunned down by the Mafia two decades ago. He was stepping out on her mother with a girlfriend who was also dating a Mafia member and... They just made a TV movie about it, got the highest ratings of the year. Fernan's client was the star. Oh, he's got about fourteen actors and actresses and he represents the striker for the Colombian football/soccer team which is playing for a World Cup berth right now!

The city's insane! There are big screens in the park! Everybody's in yellow jerseys! It's as if the Yankees were playing Manchester United... Everyone's so excited, if they win there will be pandemonium!

We were just walking through the streets, it was palpable.

The vibe. That's what Bogota's about, the vibe. There's a sense of life. And lifestyle. Everybody in the U.S. is so busy trying to get ahead that they don't know how to relax.

Then again, Fernan never does. He's worried about the price of potatoes, grown on his farm in the mountains outside of town!

But he only lives in Colombia one week out of every four. The rest of the time he's in Miami, where seemingly every Colombian has a relative, it's almost a suburb.

And I feel like I've fallen down a rabbit hole into a world I was aware of but never fully understood.

And feeling emboldened I'm gonna stride out of the hotel in search of supper. Wish me luck!

My "birthday" (with Fernan) at Andres: http://bit.ly/17oHhS7

Bogota from Monserrate (a peak by the city, we took a cable car up): http://bit.ly/1d4zifl

The Presidential Palace: http://bit.ly/17oHsgn

The bullring: http://bit.ly/14JY9zp

Dinner: http://www.andrescarnederes.com/es/

Lunch: http://leonorespinosa.com/en/


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