The Haircut

It goes with out saying that you proceed at your own risk whenever you get a haircut from someone who doesn’t speak the same language as you. It’s been 3 weeks since I got my haircut and I was beginning to embark on a mini afro. So, I took the plunge and went to a local salon. I felt safer going to a salon than a barbershop here. Every time I passed a local barbershop all the barbers and the patrons were older gentleman and I didn’t want an old man cut! I noticed a salon near the internet café I frequent and stepped inside. This salon does manicures and pedicures and there was one lady getting a manicure when I walked in. The hair stylist got her chair ready for me and as she began to prep me for a cut, I started to get a real uneasy feeling. She reached for some clippers and we proceeded to play a game of charades as I tried to tell her how I wanted my hair cut. She did a motion that I misunderstood as shaving it all off. I’m like “No, No”. She was actually asking if I wanted my hair the same length all over. My Spanish has improved a little, so I was able to tell her short on the sides and about half off the top. After more charades and a lookup in my Spanish/English dictionary, we agreed that she would use a 2 Guard for the sides and a 3 Guard for the top. This 5-minute exchange did not make my uneasy feeling go away. It actually had an opposite effect. But I’m in the chair and in the end, it is just hair. It will grow back.

So she proceeds to chop away. She has me facing the mirror and to avoid worrying even more, I just close my eyes so I can’t see what’s happening. However, I did sneak a peak every now and then. After cutting my hair, she proceeds to pull out a razor. I’ve never had a women pull a razor on me, but I must admit, it was sort of a turn-on! She proceeded to line me up with the razor and after she was done…she motioned me over to another lady. I’m thinking everything is done, but they had a surprise in store for me. The other lady motioned me over to a sink to wash my hair. It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone wash my hair and now I’m getting even more turned on! It felt really good. So good, that I am now adding to my list of attributes for a girlfriend. Now I have two...She must be breathing and willing to wash my hair! I’m not that demanding…am I? :-)

After the lady is finished washing my hair, she sends me back to the barber's chair where she adds some finishing touches. I was cool with the results. I ask how much and to my surprise a haircut and wash was only 10,000 pesos. That's about $6 and some change. I think I will be going back, but next time, I'm going to skip the cut and go straight to the sink for a wash!

Cartagena Fotos

The Man, The Myth, The Legend...LA VACA!

I went back to Club Havana last night and guess who was there? It was the Dancing Machine I mentioned in my previous post! From here on out, he will just be known as "La Vaca"! This time around I had to get him on video. For those who couldn't imagine someone having the skill I described, see for yourself. I must first warn you though. Do not look directly into the eyes of La Vaca. I cannot be held responsible for what happens after eye contact is made!

My First Weekend In Cartagena

The first weekend was a good weekend. I went out for the first time Thursday night. I met some of the other students at a place called Club Havana. They had a live salsa band that night and we drank and danced and had an overall good time. By the way, the program consists of optional Salsa/Meringue lessons during the afternoon. I’ve been taking classes and it has been a blast even though at most times, I dance as if I have two left feet. In due time, I’ll be spinning and salsa-ing with no problemo! Anyway, back to the weekend. There was this older gentleman in his fifties at the Club and he had no problem grabbing any lady and showing her his moves. He would walk around dancing by himself and then he would spot his victim. He proceeded to give her that look - the one that say’s “I know you want me!” I knew the look because I’ve used it myself on several occasions and was amazed at his mastery of the technique! Once the victim gave him the desired eye contact, it was over. He proceeded to begin a highly sophisticated mating ritual. He would gyrate his hips moving closer and closer to the victim. Once he got within 3 feet, he would begin to move back towards the dance floor. The victim, in a trance, would leave her seat and routinely begin to dance with the gentlemen. He would dance with them for a while and as he sensed her satisfaction in his dancing ability, he would break into this higher, more advanced form of dance where he would gyrate his entire body at the same time he moved across the dance floor. It was as if he was a gliding jackhammer! He did this several times during the night. I tried to follow his lead, but his technique was too advanced for my virgin eyes. I was regulated to sitting back and enjoying the show. He definitely provided a good laugh!

When we left Club Havana, I stay in a different section of the city than the rest of the students. So to ease logistics, I decided to walk home, while everyone else jumped in a cab. It’s only a 20 minute walk and so what if it’s 1:30 in the morning and I’m in a country known for smuggling drugs and kidnapping tourists. I’m interested in seeing how dangerous Colombia really is and I figure, who would really want to mess with Da Kid? I know if I saw myself walking down the street, I would turn tail and put my Nike’s to work in the other direction! Anyhow, I was disappointed as during my 20 minute walk the most trouble I had was a little barking dog. Peoples, please do not let everything you hear deter you from traveling to foreign countries. There are these things called media and propaganda and they both have an uncanny ability to distort reality. Before I took the walk, I was sure I would be safe. Everywhere you go, there will be good and bad places. Most of the danger from the drug trade in Colombia occurs in rural areas at the borders of the country, but that doesn’t mean that all of Colombia is not safe. Granted I won’t be walking around rural areas at the border during the middle of the night, but at the same time, there are places in Atlanta that I would not take a five-minute walk in and that’s during the daytime!

Saturday I embarked on a day excursion to the Rosario Islands along with two other students, Leigh and Felix. Leigh is from Canada. She’s been married for a couple of years and is now living with her husband, also a Canadian, in Peru. She will be taking off this week to go the Colombian national park, which is described as a beautiful mix of beach and jungle. No need for a hostel or hotel there…just find yourself a nice hammock and spend the night 100m from the beach! After this week, she will resume classes in Bogota before returning to Peru. Felix is from Kenya. He moved to the states to attend college and just completed his undergraduate degree in Chemical Engineering at New Jersey Institute of Technology. He will be spending three months here in Colombia before he starts a PhD program in Chemical Engineering at Stanford. We also ran into another student, James, on the boat. James is from Bristol, UK. He is in the last two weeks of his three-month trek around South America. He started in Argentina, moved up through Chile, Peru, and Bolivia, before settling in Colombia. He planned to stay on the island for three days before making his way to the National Park, where he planned to see the beach and jungle, including a four day hike to The Lost City, ruins of an ancient city that were just discovered in 1976.

The Rosario Islands are a collection of islands, some only big enough for a single house off the coast of Cartagena. It took about 2.5 hours to reach our destination, but that time could have been cut in half using a smaller, quicker boat. We first arrived at one of the islands that contained an aquarium. I kid you not when I say it took less than five minutes to walk around the entire island. As an annual pass holder to the Georgia Aquarium, I passed on the entrance fee for the aquarium. The Georgia Aquarium is probably five times bigger than the entire island, so I couldn’t see the value in going inside. Anyhow, we proceeded to get back on the boat and in another hour we were at Playa Blanca. Playa Blanca is on Isle Baru and is a long stretch of white sands. It is known for its clear blue waters and coral for snorkeling. The beach is truly beautiful and one of the best that I’ve been to. Unfortunately, it’s loaded with “Hawkers” – local vendors trying to pawn off their goods. There’s no dock for the boat on the island, so we all boarded a smaller vessel to carry us to the island. As we descended on the beach the Hawkers instantaneously surrounded us. They offered these little oyster-like shells, saying “Free” and “Souvenir”. So you would eat one. These shells have multiple sides and there are several oyster-like things on a single shell. After you eat the first one, they turn over the shell to unveil the other edible pieces. Since it was free and a souvenir, you would indulge yourself. But as you walk away, they would expect payment, as only the first little oyster was free! What a con! I avoided the scheme with my usual “No Gracias”; however, James wasn’t so lucky. He had about five of the little oysters. When they asked for payment, he became so irate. Me and the other students were already eating our lunch when he arrived telling us his tale. I mentioned he had planned to stay for three days. Well, he was on the boat with us back to Cartagena when we left that day. It was really bad. I mean every time you looked up, somebody was asking you something. Before you could finish telling one vendor, “No”, another had already started to pawn his goods. You want necklace? You want coconut? You want soda? You want cerveza? What ever happened to setting up a booth and letting people decide if they want to come to you? I’m sure this less evasive way of selling goods would incline people to feel safer and possibly buy more. The whole thing really took away from the beauty of the beach.

Anyway, we made it back to Cartagena, where we got showered and changed and headed to a birthday dinner for another one of the students, Chloe. Chloe just turned twenty-one. She lives in San Francisco, where she attends San Francisco State University. She is currently on her summer break. At the ripe old age of 21, Chloe has already visited five continents! My goal is to visit all seven and 12 years her senior, I am still two continents behind her! Anyhow, she picked a great location for dinner. It was at the rooftop of the Santa Teresa hotel, a luxury hotel in the Old Town, the original Spanish establishment founded in the 1500’s. We had a great view of all the famous monuments of the city and it was really a romantic setting in case anyone is inclined to take their significant other to Cartagena.

After dinner, the group boarded a Chiva bus. This is a party bus that contains a band and provides unlimited amounts of rum and coke, while taking you on a festive tour of the city at night. Right after dinner, I got a headache that would not go away, no matter how much Rum I drank, so, unfortunately, I wasn’t my normal RockStar self, but it was still a good time. The bus tour ends in the Old Town, where we are dropped off at a discothèque to dance the night away. I tried to hang as long as I could, but the headache was getting the best of Da Kid and I finally retreated home after dozing off in Da Club. During the bus ride, at one of the tour stops, Chloe got a really bad pain in her side. The pain seemed to be unbearable as she was sobbing and moaning in agony. We rushed her into a taxi, where Felix and Leigh accompanied her to her home or to the hospital. I am still not sure at this point, as we all don’t have cellular phones here. Felix is staying with a friend of my House Mom, so I had her call their house today. She informed us that everything is OK now. I still don’t know what happened, but am glad that Chloe is ok. I’ll find out what actually happened at the school tomorrow.

So that was my first weekend. More adventures to come…

Show Me the Money!

I thought today would be a good day. I was finally going to get some pesos! I haven’t been able to exchange any cash since I arrived, which pretty much means I haven’t had any money since I arrived. So, to exchange my money, I go to the most obvious and safest place…the bank! Well, if you are in Colombia and want to exchange money, please do not go to the bank! I went to the first bank, Daviviendo, which was located near where I’m staying. I waited in line for about 10 minutes to be informed that I must go to Banco Popular in the town center. So I trek into the city and pass by another bank, BBV. It was so crowded that I didn’t even bother waiting in line. I don’t know what’s up with banks in Colombia but they are always crowded. There are crowds of people waiting outside the bank before it opens at 8:00 AM. I’m not sure why. My teacher said that it is usually the case on the 1st and 17th of the month as those are paydays in Cartagena. Anyhow, I pass by another bank that wasn’t so crowded. I can’t remember the name right now. I wait for about 15 minutes to be informed that I need to go to Banco Columbia in the town center. Hmmm…One bank tells me to go to Banco Popular and another says got to Banco Colombia?? I’m already getting a weird feeling about this! The town center is only a short walk away and I discover that Banco Popular and Banco Colombia are right next to each other. I try Banco Popular first. There is a greeting table where I’m told I must go to the second floor in order to exchange dollars. I go to the second floor and wait 15 more minutes to be told that I must go to the money exchange across the street. So I was told to come to Banco Popular…I get there and was told to go to the second floor…I get to the second floor and now I’m being told to go to a friggin money exchange. “It’s right across the street…you can’t miss it” Well, I did not find the money exchange because as soon as I got out of the bank I got hounded by people wanting to exchange pesos for dollars. Now, I read about these guys on the net and was advised not to partake in any offers. The first guy offered 2000 pesos for every 1 dollar. I knew this was above the going rate, but I still said no. But they are persistent. The guy motions over another guy that speaks English. He proceeds to offer 2100 pesos for every dollar. I finally get rid of them and decide to go to Banco Colombia. On the way, another guy comes out offering 2000 pesos. Noticing my disinterest, he offers 2100 and then 2200 pesos. I still refuse and go to Banco Columbia. I wait another 15 minutes only to be told I need to go to another Banco Colombia behind this one. I leave, and, of course, I did not find any Banco Colombia behind this one. I did find a Citibank though. Inside Citibank, I spoke to a greeter who said I must go to Western Union to change money. She stated banks do not change money. Boy, I really wish I would have went to Citibank first!

Western Union is right next door so it’s no issue. I get inside and wait for my turn. Western Union is offering 1550 pesos for every one dollar. That’s a far cry from the 2200 I was offered on the street, but I stick to my guns. I wait for about 15 minutes. A lady who was two places in front of me realized I needed to exchange money, as did everyone else in the place since the armed guardsmen kept asking me all these questions that I didn’t understand and needed other people in line to translate for me. I should have just walked in and shouted, “Hola everyone, I am stupid American that speaks no Spanish and have mucho dollars!” Anyhow, after the lady finishes her turn, she comes to me and says she will offer me 1600 pesos for every dollar. I’m thinking, I’m two places away, I’m in the WU and not on the street, I’ll get 50 more pesos per dollar, and I just saw this lady get money from Western Union. So, I put on my Nike’s and just do it!

I’m back on the street and guess who I run into again. It’s the guy that offered me 2200 pesos for every dollar. He is now desperate and is offering 2500 pesos for every dollar. Checking on www.xe.com, the going rate is 1696 pesos for every dollar. I expected WU to be less than that as they have to keep the lights on somehow. However, I am still baffled how this guy on the street was offering 2500 pesos. WU wasn’t even offering that much for the Euro, which is way more valuable than my dollar. The dollar is so bad, Europeans are starting to use it as toilet paper and Canadians are now crossing the border to go shopping! I digress…but I think that the guys on the street are using counterfeit money or something like that??

Anyhow, I got some money in my pocket and I want to buy something! So, the first thing I go for is Cerveza! It’s been 3 days since I tasted alcohol and I was starting to get the shakes! So I try the local brews, Club Colombia and Aguilla. I’m leaning towards Aguilla, but I’ll be doing a lot more taste testing in the coming days! ☺ I finish my two beers and pull out a fresh 20000 bill to pay, but you already know it’s not going to be that simple for Da Kid! The friggin bar doesn’t have change for my friggin 20000 bill. I have to wait there while the guy goes to try and find change. He’s asking other establishments, cab drivers, and people just walking by. I tell him that I will come back manana at the same time. He’s ok with that, but he wants to keep my 20000 bill (can u tell that I like saying 20000 bill even though its only like $12!) and have me come back for the change. Hmmmm….so he’s back to asking people for change. He finally finds a construction worker that has change and then proceeds to give me change. Can you believe he had the audacity to try and short change Da Kid by 500 pesos! Now in the grand scheme of things, 500 pesos is nothing when you are walking aroung with 20000 bills and got 50 Mil bills in your pocket, but this is all about principle! And I want everyone that's reading this blog to know that Da Kid stood up for something! The bartender tried to say the cervezas were 2500 pesos each. However, before he saw my 20000 bill, he added it up as one beer costing 2500 and the other costing 2000 pesos. Nice try Senor Bartender but as Cuba Gooding would say…Show me the 500 pesos!

First Day of Classes

Ok…the first day of classes did not go so well. I really learned how little I know of the Spanish language. Again, this is going to be a long trip, but I’m determined and a have a really nice teacher. But before I get to classes, let me explain how I got to the school. I mentioned that I didn’t have any luggage. So I wake up and shower and put on the same clothes I had on for at least 17 hours yesterday! Not wanting to wear the same dirty boxers, I hand washed the pair I had. Unfortunately, they didn’t dry before I had to be on my way. I also mentioned there was a language barrier. So trying to get directions to the school was not working out. Maria says I can follow her to catch a bus, but I tell her I will walk. She draws a map and counts off the blocks. The map shows two blocks, then a church. After 5 blocks, a bridge is drawn. I cross the bridge, go two more blocks, make a right, and walk two more blocks. I figured how hard could this be, so I take off with my wet boxers at 7:15. At 9:00, I’m still walking around trying to find this dayum school! Did I mention that it was hot, I had on the same clothes I had on yesterday, I had wet boxers, and a friggin map that had a picture of a church and a bridge!!! It looked like one of those maps from Indian Jones! For 2 hours, I was walking around using two phrases: “Hablas ingles?” and “Donde esta Nueve Lengua?” while showing people my Indiana Jones treasure map! Well, just when I was about to give up and call it a day, I walk down this street that I had already been down twice and lo and behold, the friggin school…WTF!!!

Well, now that I’m in school, the first order of business is to take a test. The test was 5 pages long. I only answered questions on the 1st page and got about a half of those wrong. So, I am placed into the LD Spanish class. My teacher is Leidy, and she is a very nice lady. Through my lessons, I learn that her husband teaches at the school and she has been married for 7 years. She has 2 children, a 6 year old boy and a 2 yr old girl. I also learned that she has been unhappy for 4 years and wants to get a divorce. Don’t even ask how my non-Spanish speaking self got that info! I did learn the word “quedate” which means to stay. As I kept telling her, “No divorce…quedate”

Anyway, she is very nice. When my luggage arrived at the school, she said I will have to take a taxi to my house. I explained that I haven’t been able to exchange any money yet, so she offered to loan me some money since the banks weren’t open at that time. I declined her offer. She seemed a little offended by that, but when it was time to go, she allowed me to share her taxi. She just had the taxi drop me off using my treasure map on her way to her next job. I made it home just in time for lunch. I missed the day’s field trip and salsa classes, but I will be ready manana!

Colombia: The Beginning

Da Kid is finally in Cartagena, Colombia. I haven’t seen much of the city as it was dark when I arrived. It has been an adventure so far. I pretty much realized I was in over my head as I stood in line to check my baggage at the Miami airport. I was the only Gringo in line and, although we were still in the US, the entire airline staff communicated in Spanish first. I knew right then, this was going to be a long trip.

Overall, flying Avianca Airlines, was a pretty good experience. My only issue is I have no luggage. My flight was from Miami to Bogota to Cartagena. I’m assuming my bags made it to Bogota, but not Cartagena. I’m stuck with no toothbrush or toothpaste, no clean boxers, and an outfit that I’ve been wearing since 6:00 AM this morning.

I’ve settled in with my host family. Not many words were exchanged since a language barrier still exists. I can’t wait to start speaking Spanish! I am living in a three-bedroom apartment. Maria and her husband have one room. I have a room to myself, though there are two twin beds here, so I’m not sure if I will be sharing it at some point. Maria’s mother and Maria’s 14-year-old son occupy the third bedroom. I believe the son moved out of my current room.

The family seems to be very religious. Jesus is present throughout the apartment. Just in my room alone, there’s a huge cross with Jesus’s head on it, pictures of Jesus, pieces of paper with Jesus’s name spelled on it, and several figurines of angels and people praying. I might become Catholic through osmosis in this room!