Bogota 1

Post date: Aug 9, 2010 9:27:32 PM

Bogota. Colombia’s capital. The locals say that they are experiencing unusual weather this time of year, and the prime suspect is global warming. It’s been very rainy and very cold this year, and although Bogota is in the mountains and so is naturally somewhat cooler, this cold has confused the people. From what I hear, San Diego has had some cloudy, cool weather this summer, and Fort Wayne has been awfully hot. Hmmm…..

Bogota has the worst traffic on the planet.

After a full day of researching good mechanics in town (the shop the Medellin guy referred me to took days to respond, so I looked for recodmmendations on horizonsunlimited.com and KLR650.net. Kawasaki’s Colombia office referred me to a Desmarca, so I checked it out and was finally impressed. It took hours to explain the symptoms to the guys there, and we used Google Translator to communicate. You can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous amount of time that goes into what I can handle in 5 minutes in the U.S. It’s a side of travel that few people get to witness, and in some ways, I love it. The guys knew their stuff, so I left the bike there when I decided that that shop would do the job, even if it meant waiting 8 days to order the parts and borrow the special tools necessary. Basically the problem, they say, is that the guides around the balancer chain have worn away, preventing tension and ruining the chain.

The next day was a mess, too, but good progress was made as my couchsurfer host helped me for hours at the shop, translating. After receiving the projected bill, which turned my smile upside down, I asked my host help me translate a negotiation of the bill with the store owner. I offered to wear their label on my gear and post their logo on my website if he offered me a discount. No luck. Then I offered to sweep floors, and he just laughed. I am getting a 5% discount for paying in cash. I’m just lucky to have good people around to help me communicate with these people.

I fully relapsed on chocolate; I bought it. I’d had it a couple times since Guatemala, when offered to me, but this was my first seek-and-destroy. A friend I made in Bogota and I baked a chocolate cake. I ate so much I got dizzy. My pupils probably covered my whole eyes. It was bliss. And then it was “bleeeegggghh.” But worthwhile. I haven’t been fiending for it since then though. This trip has softened me! Can’t wait to get back to the old straight and narrow, even if I’m having the time of my life.

I had read during my research before this trip that it’s a bad idea to hang around political gatherings due to the potential for protests and violence. Turns out I may get to witness this warning first hand, because today the President of Colombia is changing hands. There’s a lot of hype about it. A lot of people don’t like Colombia’s political situation, and violence here is not out of the question. On Independence Day here in Bogota, people were so riled up, not negatively really- just boisterous, that they were hosed down by power hoses aimed by the police and military. One guy at this hostel said it took two hours to get out from the middle of the crowd because of all the wildness was on the perimeter of the gathering. Less than ten years ago, someone shot a rocket into the square during a presidential event. Today the police and military are on every corner, all the streets are blocked off, and this is all happening blocks from me because the main square of Simon Bolivar, the leader of Colombia’s Revolution that gained their independence from Spain, is just a few blocks down the hill. If I go to observe, I’m getting out at the first hint of agitation, but I bet I’d stay around to watch from a distance.

-update- The crowds were calm and cool. Lots of military about, but I saw one lame hippy with a protest sign being ignored by pedestrians. Apparently there were over 20 snipers on the buildings towering over the plaza, but I hadn’t seen them. There was no violence.

Went out dancing with a local girl on Friday. I could use some dance lessons. I’ll blame the music. At least she had a good sense of humor!

At the hostel I had an interesting discussion with two local men about the utility, morality, and possibility of helping people. I found myself in the position of advocating for the benefits of trying to help others, but I agreed with them on many points about the dangers of the altruistic spirit.

I think I’ve got a charm from my trip. It takes the form of a bracelet made of commercial fishing twine that has accompanied me the whole way to Argentina. Once black as tar, it is now a light gray, still twined, with fluffy knot tag ends. Originally it was a necklace for a polished cross-section disc of Sitka blacktail deer antler. The bone disappeared with my accident in Mexico, but for some reason I decided to wrap the twine around my wrist, and it just hasn’t left.

I met yet another Colombian woman who unwittingly has tugged on the strings of my heart with her revelations of insight and wisdom. It is not just the intelligence of her ideas and beliefs, but the honesty and purity with which she expresses herself. It is one of those rare moments in my life I wish I could make permanent, record, and duplicate because, as Keats said, “Beauty is Truth, Truth Beauty, That is All ye Know on Earth, and All ye Need to Know.”

The lesson was yet another spin on the same lesson I’ve been directed to time and again on this trip: Without patience, one will not enjoy life. But her insights went much further. In fact, they gave me the first truly new idea I have had in years. Metaphysical philosophizing died inside me around the age of 26 due to sheer spiritual exhaustion over questions that are so rationally important but so impossible to rationalize. I was reminded of this when she explained to me the importance of being open-minded to another’s opinions because they may be able to see something that you do not that may help you come closer to your heart’s destination. She emphasized the spirit of open-mindedness, of humility. Somehow this became very metaphysical in mind, and the revelation shocked me so much I had to get out of my chair and go get Sunday Hostel BBQ food that was getting cold due to my attention to her discourse. In summary: More important than the object of truth is the opening of oneself to the possibility of truth. Truth is not a noun. Truth cannot be described. Truth is a verb. Truth is not describing but opening wide, without fear or judgment, to life in its every form. Imagine a sunrise. More important than that on which the sun shines is the fact that sun indeed (or “also”, according to Hemingway) rises and shines. We as humans long to make permanent. We call things by their names as if they will exist for eternity. But all things are in constant flux. One becomes closer to the truth and the best way to live when one recognizes oneself as a verb, an action, a creative energy. The idea reminds me of my old adage, “All mass is interaction.” This correlates to her belief that it is necessary for people to share ideas with each other so that we can make it to our destination, which she feels is the same for us all. We are all energy relating to each other. In my opinion, all other explanations of meaning and purpose are by default debunked by virtue of their appeal to reason and the mind, which are limited. Be open! Live “YES”! Every religion is basically saying this. It is one thing to know this in the mind and a completely different thing to experience it.

Lucky. I’m lucky to meet beautiful people. By the end of this weekend, after my philosopher friend and her two friends, who are equally compelling… one is this mild, dark, subcultured, 80s music loving, French independent film loving actress of short films. She has a sly sense of humor that slips right past you if you’re not careful. The other is a music professor and opera singer with an infectious, rambunctious cheerfulness. What a trio… A hostel worker had been equally charmed by the girls the night I invited them back to the hostel after the electronic dance club, and we invited them to lunch the next day. So I prepared some yummy spaghetti and garlic bread, he made some fried platanos and guacamole, and they brought the chocolate ice cream covered brownies. It was just such a splendid day of laughs and conversation. We will spend more time together this week. My Spanish probably doubled just talking to them.

The hostel has a beautiful black boxer-like dog that is small as if it were a pup. But talking to one of the workers, her age is estimated to be between 5 and 10 years old. The reason no one knows is because the owner of the hostel saw her one day with a homeless guy on the street and bartered for the dog in exchange for his shoes. She was skinny and used to eating garbage at the time, and the vet here is unclear of her age due to her deteriorated teeth from the garbage. Now, the dog is shiny and filled out. Lola will occasionally bark at what we assume to be ghosts, and she is often found staring wistfully through the bars of the gate to the hostel, out at the street. I wonder what she smells, remembers, and misses from the street life. I can’t help but think of the formerly homeless I worked with and the shock they went through when finally they were living indoors again. I’m sure she has some friends still running the alleys, scrounging the morning trash bags, lapping from the puddles, dodging cars, and occasionally trotting along with three legs due to a bum paw. Lola was neutered and is still occasionally allowed to run the streets for some exercise. She returns.

This morning of 8-9-10 I jogged over 5 miles to my shop to check on my bike. Good news: the chain is good. The “sliders” are bad. That should save me over $100, but the bad news is that they estimate another 10 days until completion. As much fun as I’ve had here, though, a little extra time is a nice excuse to stick around.

Bogota Rain

I awoke from dreams, wrapped in dry, warm blankets

In a quiet, empty room with the sound of rain

Sprinkling flowers and leaves, dripping to the grass.

The rain is in no hurry.

The plants are in no hurry.

There is no need to hurry.

There is no need to hurry.

I am a child, there is no future,

I will do now what I want.