Los Modismos y Chocolate Santafereno

Our day began with croissants and jam, coffee, and baby bananas...delicious! Whitney and I then began to walk around the city, so that I could get a feel for my home of the next two weeks. The city is well-planned, so once you know an address it makes it relatively easy to know where you are in relation to other things. We headed down to the Plaza de Simon Bolivar and sat to enjoy the view and sunshine for a bit.

Whitney ran into a shoeshine man who had shined her boots before, and engaged his services. Free with the shoeshine was an entire discourse on everything ranging from the pronation of most people's feet to the importance of slang (los modismos) in communication to the groundbreaking wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton. Though long-winded, he had great insights and has clearly spent much of his time observing people and decoding their interactions.

We next ducked in a church, then headed for the Cafe Florida for the requisite chocolate santafereno. It involves a personal pot of hot chocolate, which you pour into a mug at your leisure. You are given two triangular slices of cheese, somewhat akin to mozzarella but more delicious, which you tear into pieces and deposit in the cup of hot chocolate. Leave that sit for a bit and eat your croissant and jam. Then you can return to the cheese and chocolate. By this point, the cheese is slightly melted and chewy. You can eat it solo or spoon it onto bits of almojabana, which is like a cornbread biscuit. Amazing!!!

I need to cut this short now because, while Whitney's teaching an English class, I'm going to check out a local shopping center. Pics on this and the last post coming soon!

Bogota!

Through a haze of sleep and music from my iPod, I registered the captain's announcement over the loudspeaker that we would shortly be descending into Bogota, and that it was time to fill out our declaration forms for Customs. Excitement dawned on me, as I realized we were landing a half hour early, a nice departure from my delayed flight from Dulles to Newark and from the 7 hours I spent pacing around terminal C in Newark. I figured that by the time we landed and I passed through Customs and Immigration, I would be perfectly on time to meet Whitney. It was clearly too long since I'd traveled in Latin America.

After nearly two hours of waiting in lines, I finally gave Whitney a hug and we proceeded to hop into a taxi autorizado (authorized taxi) and hold our breath for the next 25 minutes until we arrived at the Musicology Hostel, located in the La Candelaria neighborhood of Bogota. That guy could have been a driver in NYC, no sweat...

We were buzzed into the front hall of the hostel, where I met a few of the people that worked here. Entering the inner courtyard, I immediately received the impression of having walked into a jungle. Filled with lush tropical plants and hammocks, the courtyard was lined by the various dorm rooms of the hostel. After checking in a receiving a brief tour from Whitney, we enlisted her friend and hostel worker Francisco to come with us in search of food. We made our way through the windy, hilly, and architecturally rich streets of La Candelaria before arriving at ???, where we ordered empanadas and hamburgers. While the little place at 3 y A in El Vedado, La Habana will always be, to me, the best burgers in the world, this place was a close and delicious second! The company was also fantastic; Whitney and I were able to start catching up, as well as talk more to Fran, who came from Argentina a month ago and works at the hostel in exchange for bed and board. As we were on our walk, we passed the stroke of midnight, and he turned 26, so Whitney and I (more so Whitney) treated him to an impromptu rendition of "Happy Birthday" in the streets of Bogota.

After a few more hours of chisme and catching up here, we turned the lights out- and began talking with Yoav, our Israeli roommate of 23 years old. Somehow, despite the lack of sleep over the past two days, I was also awake by 7 AM. Those of you who know me well can begin to imagine my pleasure at being able to step outside my door, climb into a hammock, and read for an hour with nothing to disturb me. Life is beautiful! After breakfast (which, along with dinner, is apparently included in the already-low cost of $10/night that I pay to stay here), we'll begin an exploration of Bogota. More to come soon :)

Next Up: Colombia!

After a nearly two year hiatus, I'm back in the travel game. This Sunday, I depart from Dulles International Airport for Bogota, Colombia. Previous readers of my blog will remember references to a friend on the Cuba trip named Whitney. She is now in Bogota, having recently obtained her TESOL certification, and is going to be teaching private classes. In the meantime, we are going to explore Bogota and its environs. I've been reading up about things to do, and some of the top items on my list include:

-A typical "santafereno" breakfast, comprised of hot chocolate, fresh bread, and cheese.

-Dancing!! Even our residence, the Musicology Hostel, offers free classes.

-www.bogotabiketours.com -->check out their site, you rent a bike and get a guided tour of all the best areas of Bogota from the historical districts to shopping centers

-Waterfalls near Bogota, most notably the Tequendama Falls

-while cheesy and a typical tourist attraction, I really want to see the Cerro de Monserrate, which is a church that allows you to have an overview of the entire city of Bogota

-there's a great Botero museum down there also; his works were included in a calendar of Latin American artists that Kara bought me during undergrad and I've been interested in his work ever since

-Speaking of artists, some of you are aware of my current admiration for British graffiti artist Banksy. Some of his works are in Bogota, so I'm hoping to find them while traversing the city.

Thank you to Lorena, Jaime, and Alex for your advice on what to do/how to get around, to Dale and Judy for your support, and to Whitney for arranging my bed space at the hostel and her upcoming hostess duties :)

Let’s Get This Straight

Let’s Get This Straight

Ireland...A Few Months Late

I had originally wanted to blog about the entire trip, but as it's been so long I don't any longer feel like typing and rehashing my thoughts. However, since I did find a Word document of a couple of the main thoughts I had, I thought I'd copy and paste those thoughts here for posterity's sake (and because I feel that since I have started this blog, I must now write at least one entry here per country that I visit). So thoughts on Ireland:

-Dublin is both gorgeous and clean. Also, all the side streets look nice (how do I explain this to someone who hasn't been to Cuba?) Each time I glance down an alley, I expect to see laundry hanging freely, loose dogs in the street, a domino game between old men in tattered undershirts, or some sign that the seemingly gorgeous facades are actually crumbling in stately yet shabby glory as time passes. I haven't found this yet. And somehow I feel that, in my heart of hearts, that the obvious evidence of decay that was always visible in Cuba, to be a beauty that is grittier, more arresting, than the sterile streets of Dublin. The only similarity is in the color: Dublin has the multicolored doors which are an echo of the bright laundry hanging from every available space in Havana streets.

-Gas is even more expensive here than in the States. A liter is about 114.9 cents Euro, times 3.8 to get the price in Euro cents/gallon, times 1.5 to get the price in dollars, equaling roughly $6.55/gallon. Ouch.

-Doesn't seem that the Irish are our biggest fans. Because we are American in general, or because we always roll in to a place at least 15 people deep?

-Difference in drinking styles: in America, drinking is semi-stigmatized by society at large, and we go balls to the wall. It's also pretty important as a social lubricant. In Ireland, it seems that drinking on a frequent basis is more commonplace, but at the same time it's more low-key; it's as though it adds fun to an occasion but is never the REASON for an occasion, nor does it influence the success of a get-together.