Seeing is believing

I was walking through Zona T the other night, and thought a photo would be appropriate to show just a little bit of how festive and intense the Holiday spirit is here in Bogota. Since it doesn't snow here, the light arrangements around Zona T (a couple of streets making a "T" intersection that have been closed to traffic making a pedestrian mall lined with bars and restaurants, and surrounded by high end stores and shopping malls) are designed to look like snow. Pretty cool to see in person.

When Nature Calls...
... you answer! While coming back from buying some supplies for CrossFit Bogota the other day, I turned to my right and happened to see a father, holding up his young daughter (maybe she was 2 or 3 years old) to let her pee. This was in broad daylight, along the side of the autopista and right next to some woman selling stuff that he was talking to.

But then a minute or two later, once again I look to my right to see nature's hand at work again. Well, maybe not hand. Two dogs were banging away, do the nasty doggy style. I just started laughing as I saw two guys watching the dogs get down to business as they walked by. I tried to get a photo, but we turned before I could.

Somebody's watchin' me.
This weekend was a blitzkrieg of drinking. We started Friday night checking out a new bar called Victoria, and began an abbreviated bar crawl. None of us were that into the scene there, so we drank our drinks and proceeded over to Penthouse, which just opened a week ago. Penthouse is supposedly a 4 floor club that even has a sauna. There was a 180 Aguardiente party there, but rather than deal with the door we looked at the crowd and decided we would rather go to our sala de estar... Maroma! After engaging in de rumba for several hours, and getting some girls' numbers, at 5am or so it was time to call it quits.

When I get home, I realize I lost my key, most likely somewhere on the floor at Maroma. After about 10 minutes of trying to wake Ernesto, he came to the door 3/4 asleep and let me in. Literally, a minute or two after I walk in the door the intercom rings. The doorman tells me a girl is downstairs, and asks if he should let her come up. I told him "no way" and that I'll take a look from the balcony to see who the hell it was since I wasn't expecting anyone. Unfortunately, this mystery girl was already in the building's lobby when I went to the balcony, so no luck. I went downstairs to confront this possible late night casual encounter.

A girl was standing there all right, but I had no clue who the hell she was. She proceeds to tell me her name, that she lives in the next building, that she saw me at the club tonight and that she recognized me from the neighborhood. Whoa! That's creepy. Couple that with the fact that something similar happened with another girl a couple days after I moved into the building. I acted gentlemanly, got her number thought I can't remember what she looked like at all, and went to bed.

The next morning, my doorman said that I'm being watched 24/7, and should hire a private body guard. We're all having a good laugh about it, although it is incredibly strange and flattering in a disturbing in a sense.

Llamadas!
I didn't understand what this was all about until last week. In Colombia, the three mobile phone carriers: Comcel, Tigo and Movistar, charge extremely high per minute rates for phone calls made from one network to another (Comcel roughly controls 60% of the Colombian mobile phone market). So, some clever folks came up with the idea to "lease" mobile phones out to people on the street for anywhere between COP 150-300 per minute (roughly $0.09/minute). Pretty expensive, but I guess it is less expensive than calling on your own mobile phone. I'm not sure why the costs are so high, but they are.

You can see people on the street every 20 meters or so yelling "Llamadas! Llamadas!" This explains why so many times when I call or sms someone, they ususally call back from a different number. At first, I thought everyone here at multiple cell phones, so I'd save the numbers. But when I received calls from the same person from more than three different numbers, I thought, "what the hell?" Now I know, and knowing is half the battle!

Clothing Line.
This week CrossFit Bogotá T-shirts arrived! All the initial clients will get one with their membership, and then they'll be for sale for COP 20.000 each (a little less than $10). They came out great, and were custom tailored. The shirts were actually made from the raw fabric, not bought and then screen printed. Gotta love the textile/garment industry down here. I wear them every day when I go to train a class or do my own workout - advertising!

Well, to be honest I'm also almost out of clean clothes, though I expect to purchase a washing machine this week. And after visiting a local laundrymat to see if they do laundry-by-the-pound like in New York, we learned that 10lbs of laundry would cost approximately COP 70.000, or $35! They originally started taking clothes out of my laundry bag, which seemed strange until we learned that they charge per item - COP 1,500 for a pair of socks and COP 3,500 for underwear! Hell, in five wash loads I'd have paid enough to buy my own laundry machine!

Detox.
We do a CrossFit workout in Virrey that was torture after the previous night's drinking display. Breakfast is an excruciating experience, so we decide it would be best to go to the sauna. Man, was that a great idea or what?!

Marco, Ernesto and I drove out to Club El Rincon, which is located somewhere towards Chia north of Bogota. We arrive and immediately hit the sauna (steam room). It was HOT! We hit the steam twice before taking a breather, literally, and ordering some snacks and juice while watching a polo match. We all then proceeded to pass out for about two hours, hit the steam once more, and shower up to get read for Andres. Man, I'm tellin' ya. After those steams and the nap, I felt like Friday night didn't even happen!

Retox.
Andres was about twice as crowded as the week prior, and the hotness was everywhere around us. We arrived late due to a house party earlier, so we didn't have a table when we arrived despite its being Ernesto's birthday. Luckily, within about 15 minutes one of the tables where we normally sit opened up and we were in business. Turns out that Juanes was at Andres as well, and quite a mob surrounded him as he was leaving to do a late concert somewhere. I guess he wanted to make way for Ernesto's birthday!

Back in the mix.

When it rains...
... it pours, and the signs a massive downpour are coming are obvious. As I exited the Transmilenio after going somewhere to do something, I saw the darkness descend on the mountain. The contrast was so stark that I had to snap a photo. The sky moving east to west was so dark and ominous that it meant only one thing - massive downpour is imminent. Sure enough, I wasn't disappointed. Instantly my street's potholes were filled with water just waiting for the innocent pedestrian to approach while a driver sped by creating a tidal wave about 6' high!

Counterfeit!
On my way to teach English last week I took a taxi because I was running late, and I only had a 20.000 COP note left on me from a withdrawal I made from a Citibank ATM a few days earlier. When I handed it to the driver to pay he told me that he could not accept it because it was a fake. At my destination there was another Citibank ATM, so he said he would wait while I got some cash. The new 20.000 COP note I gave him he said was real, and he showed me how to spot the differences, and gave me change. Luckily I had the ATM receipt from my withdrawal so I planned on going to Citibank with the fake to exchange it later.

When I met my student, I told him that I had a fake 20.000 COP note from a Citibank ATM. He didn't believe that a Citibank ATM would give me a fake, but when he inspected the note he agreed that it was fake. He then looked at the change the taxi driver game me, and he saw the 10.000 COP note and asked to see it. He then told me that 10.000 COP I got from the taxi driver was a fake as well! His coworkers confirmed that both notes were counterfeits.

After examining the notes more carefully, I distinctly remember having notes that looked and felt similar before and being readily able to spend them. So before going to Citibank I stopped at the grocery store to buy a couple of items, and sure enough they accepted my notes. Go figure!

Caras.
A friend told me to pick up a copy of the magazine "Caras" (faces), which is a socialite magazine containing photos of people at parties, events, functions, etc. As I flipped through the pages wondering why I was told to buy this magazine, I came to the section of Halloween photos from Andres. "OH SHIT!" I thought. And then I saw it, a photo of Julio, Shammy and I in our 70s basketball getups, only they got my name wrong. They somehow bastardized my friend's name, which I think shall now become my alias, my alter ego, whenever I'm out.

Pretty nifty.
Given that it rains so much here, the city has come up with some intelligent civil engineering to drain the deluge of water that accumulates when it rains. One that I noticed the other day was these little grooves cut into the concrete on the sidewalk. I never noticed it before, but at least where I saw them on Calle 85 they channeled the water from the sidewalk to the street gutter.

Weekend debauchery.
The friend that invited me here in the first place, Alejo, visited this weekend. We started the weekend, Friday night, with a house party at the Embassy (the apartment). About 20 people showed up, and we proceeded to drink ourselves into oblivion. After drinking heavily at the apartment, most of us marched over to Maroma which is where my memory becomes a bit spotty. I remember meeting up with Caroline (or KRo, formerly known as the "Hot Chick") and her friends, who were also plastered. I also recall repeatedly offering our usual bartender some vodka, and then sitting on the bar, not at the bar but on it, at one point. But for the most part my memory is somewhat blank from the rest of the night, however, my friends informed me that I was in rare comedic form Friday night.

On Saturday, we hit Virrey to CrossFit, then met up with Alejo to hit the sauna and sweat out any remnants of Friday night's liver destruction. At around 7pm we were ready to head off to Andres. This weekend we arrived way too early, and while still super fun, it was definitely "chill" for Andres. A lot of people took advantage of the 3-day weekend to head out of Bogota to Cartegena or the far more temperate nearby countryside.

Upon arriving at Andres we turned "Mesa Grande" into "Mesa EXTRA Grande" by absorbing the table next to it. All in, we were about 20 people. The night started slowly, with most of us drinking non alcoholic beverages until around 10pm, which is when we finally showed some signs of life. But our table seemed to be the only one around that had energy, and when Andy, our other friend visiting from Europe, arrived, things really picked up. To make a long story short, we lost Andy for quite a while at one point where some of us assumed he had either passed out under the table, in the bathroom or had crossed the street to fall asleep in one of the recovery hammocks. However, such assumptions were unfounded as he mysteriously surfaced with sparkles and smeared paint on his face along with a Venezuelan girl that he met in the far reaches of Andres who was part of a Venezuelan contigion here for the weekend.

I never really got going, but I did meet another girl. Somehow, while sober, I spoke to her in Spanish and understood what she said for the most part. Now mind you this is while I was sober. When drunk, one gets better at speaking any language, along with getting better at a great many other things. Well, maybe not. But it is further evidence that my Spanish is getting better. Well all right!

Construction.
I have finalized the plans for the backyard construction project, which will house CrossFit Bogota for the time being. With a 50 sm terrace, and rents at high levels going into a definitely recessionary environment, helped along by the collapse of the pyramides, there is no point renting a local yet. Instead, I will wait until I get to about 30 clients, and then look to rent a local. Start-up 101 - keep the burn low! So, to the right is a drawing that gives you the main idea. It will be more than sufficient for the time being, and will allow me to grow the client base while keeping costs low. In addition, we get some much needed privacy. The one drawback to this apartment is that there is a big office building looking down into our terrace, and into our bedrooms. Luckily the previous tenant left their black out shades, so they cannot see in the bedrooms. But the two structures I planned to build will provide the privacy we need, while still leaving much of the terrace open to enjoy the fresh air, and of course to BBQ!

As of this week I've got about 14-16 clients for CrossFit Bogota, and T-shirts are on the way as well. Once the roof is constructed, a pull-up bar will be put up and then some additional equipment will be purchases or finally arrive from the United States. I didn't fully realize the difficulty associated with international shipping, but now I do. No worries though, we will have our equipment soon enough!

It's all coming together...

I returned from NYC this past weekend, and was happy to be back in Bogota. NYC just isn't for me anymore. Bogota has the energy that NYC used to have. It has its dopey nuances like some of the things I mentioned, but it's my home now and I'm lovin' it.

I was sick for most of my time in NYC, and now that I don't have an apartment there I have to commute in from the country. But it was fun to see some of my friends, those who were around, and catch up with them even if only for a few minutes. And I do miss some things, like the subway and the wide variety of people that you see on it -- far different than a ride on a busetta or Transmilenio. It was also strange to hear everyone on the street speaking English, after hearing only Spanish on the streets for the last two months. Here in Bogota, I look up whenever I hear someone speaking English as if there was some unspoken bond between us. I also noticed how many blondes there are up north, something I never really paid attention to before, but I prefer brunettes anyway.

Well, like I said I'm back down in Bogota so hopefully a lot of you will decide to come visit -- I've got rooms for ya!

Bad ideas.

There are some bad ideas, and then there are some really bad ideas. But the worst idea may be to shop on Sundays in Bogota. At right is a photo I took of Exito, the Colombian version of Wal-mart on steroids. The place is absolutely enormous. There is one entrance, which is also the one exit -- hmm, perhaps a design flaw? Nope, it was intentional as both sides of the 5 meter wide entrance/exit are lined with cell phone carriers, motorcycle lease financing companies, etc. It took more time to get in and out of Exito than it did to shop! I suppose the same can be said of Wal-marts, Costco's, etc. so it seems the discount bulk stores are the same the world over.

Now, I'm not sure if I'd consider this a bad idea, or just plain stupid. When visiting another neighborhood to visit a t-shirt sweatshop I noticed an apartment that had a second floor that was, shall we say, unfinished yet finished. It looked like something out of the Flintstones. Not sure why you would build a brick wall in such shitty form, then step back and say, "Yup, that's a good looking wall." My favorite part is the windowless window, and doorless door. Trump should take notes from these guys.

Questionable.

So, like I was saying a few weeks ago, one of the things that is really strange here is that the attendents in the men's bathroom are women. Don't believe me? Well, I snapped a quick photo over my shoulder (urinal cam). While Colombian men are equally small in stature, I assure you this is a woman. I didn't think taking a full frontal photo was going to go over to well, so I snuck a photo when I could as evidence. The impact of having women in the men's room at first delivers a case of stage fright. But after the 4th or 5th time you are numb to the fact that there's a girl cleaning the urinal next to you while taking a leak. It becomes almost second nature. I'm sure in some places they may clean more than just the urinal while you're in there.

City of Lights.

I learned that every Holiday Season, the major parks of Bogota undergo transformations into incredible displays of lights. Each park has a different theme, and is sponsored by one of the major corporations based in Bogota. For example, I heard that Bavaria, a brewer here owned by SAB I think, spends $1 million (USD) each Holiday Season to light up Parque 93. This year, the theme is the 4 seasons. Now, I didn't get a chance to photograph that park yet, but I did walk by it and I must say it's impressive. However, I did snap a photo of Parque Virrey last night, which is next to my apartment. Tons of people walk through the parks at night to see the displays, which are quite elaborate. The theme of Parque Virrey is summer. I gotta say, they're pretty damn cool to see. The photo I took really doesn't do the display justice as they span the entire park.

Arrival.

My friend and now roommate, Ernesto, arrived this past weekend from Mexico City. He is working with Marco at Merck GFK here in Bogota. Ernesto happens to play the sax, and is pretty good for only having started playing 3 years ago. He was brave enough to try CrossFit this weekend as well, and endured 3 days of beatdown workouts.

We're going to host a house party this weekend while we have no furniture, or things that can break. This will be the inaugural fiesta de la casa de reyes, and will welcome my friend Alejo from Geneva and Andy from London. This weekend is shaping up to be one for the ages. Hot Chick will be attending, but the Hot Chick #2 will be home as she leaves on Friday. This will also be a diplomatic affair as a bunch of folks from the embassy will be there too. The after party Friday night will be at Maroma, and Saturday will of course be at Andres. And since Monday is a Holiday, Sunday Funday will need to be introduced with authority.

Appliance Love.

This week both the refrigerator and my bed also arrived. Don't ever take a refrigerator for granted! Living without one absolutely sucks. You can't really cook, or eat anything normal. Just be sure to be good to your frige, keep it happy and you'll live a happy and healthy life!

I'm planning to buy a washer/dryer, but will wait a few weeks until I get low on clean clothes. No point lumping all expenses in at once, especially now that CrossFit Bogota is generating revenues, which means I can reduce the burn on my feeble savings.

Fat Burn Delivered Daily.

As I mentioned earlier, CrossFit Bogota is now officially open for business as of Dec 1st. The workouts take place on our private terrace (it's 50 square meters) and in Parque Virrey across the street. Marco met a workout called "Karen" this morning, and the resulting fetal position speaks for itself. People are happy with it, are having fun and are seeing results. I hope I get to around 30-40 clients training in the terrace by early 1Q, and then look to open an actual gym when rents for locals (retail storefronts) come down as the Recession spreads to Colombia. No point renting something now at the top of the market when you can see that the economy is weakening along with the real estate market.

What the fuck!?

When I left, that was the premise for my experiment. After spending nearly my entire life in New York City, I decided that it was time for a change. Hence my embarking on this journey, which I dubbed The Bogota Experiment. But that phrase also applies to my being stupefied by the headlines to which I’m returning: Dow Jones Industrial Average hits a 5-year low, Oil is trading below $53 a barrel, the New York Jets are in 1st place of the AFC East and Pirates, yes PIRATES (which spawned a new business idea, more later), are once again roaming the Seven Seas! So, I think I’m justified in my asking, “What the fuck?”

No speaka the Inglish

Tuesday night I met up with Maria Paula, the girl I met at Maroma. Turns out she decided to invite two of her friends, whom I also met at Maroma only I didn’t remember meeting them. No matter, her friends were cool, and they let me focus my attention on Maria Paula. None of them spoke any English, which meant I would need to converse entirely in Spanish and that they would have to endure my butchery of their language. When I asked if they understood what I was talking about they told me that my Spanish was “super” or “super bien.” That was cool.

We had a quick dinner at Anonymous, in Zona T, which is near my apartment. Zona T is a trendy area of Bogota that is overpriced, for Bogota (USD 6-7 for a premium vodka and soda), and is a little too trendy to be hip, at least for extranjeros like myself. However, the young, upper class of Bogota tend to like to go and be seen in areas like Zona T. But Zona T and Zona G, another trendy area of restaurants and bars, are really the only areas to get remotely good cocktails.

Over dinner and drinks, she and her friends peppered me with questions like, “What are you doing here in Bogota? In Colombia?,” “What do you think of the women in Colombia?” and “Do you have a girlfriend here or in the U.S.?” and such. I told them about my business plans, and that I don’t have a girlfriend in Colombia or in the U.S. In reaction to the latter, they asked why and I explained that I just moved into my apartment four days ago so I haven’t had the ability to build a social life. I told them that I was going back to NY tomorrow (Wed) for a week for the Thanksgiving Holiday, but that I’d be back on the 28^th and that we should go out. Maria Paula said definitely. I told her she should have come to Andres on Sat night, but she responded that I should have called her to invite her. I said I sent an SMS, but she said that isn’t sufficient. So I learned an important lesson – unlike in the U.S. where you can set up everything via SMS, here in Colombia the girls expect you to give them a call to get together. Duly noted.

Maria Paula told me that she was also leaving Bogota for “vacation” on December 6^th, for the remainder of the month. I asked what for, and she said it was to spend time with her family and to recover. Recover from what? Why, surgery of course! She told me that she was going to have breast implants during that time. While I said I thought she didn’t need them, she seemed set on having them done. Not that I’m going to complain if I get to reap the benefits. When I get back I’ll hang out with the “before” version, and will need to make sure I get the opportunity to make a good comparison with the “after” when she gets back.

Piramides

The U.S. has its housing crisis, and Colombia has its piramides – basically ponzi schemes. Believe it or not, hundreds of thousands of Colombians “invested” their money into various pyramid schemes that promised returns of 150% in six months! Many of these schemes appear to have been around for five or more years, and did indeed return, at least on paper, the kind of returns they promised. Of course, the initial investors were the poorer people Colombia, investing anywhere between 500.000 COP to 2.000.000 COP (USD 250-1,000) of their hard earned money. And in six months they would indeed see fantastic returns, and rather than withdraw the funds they would “let it ride” so to speak, and hope to double their money again. People spoke to “winning” at the end of six months, which to me sure didn’t sound like an investment at all.

About a month ago I told my friend Jurgen that I needed to buy a refrigerator and washer/dryer for my apartment, he mentioned DMG to me (DMG was the greatest of all the piramides). He said something like, “don’t buy that stuff at a department store. Go to DMG and buy it from them and in six months they give you back your money.” I looked at him skeptically, but he insisted that he knew a bunch of people that used DMG and were paid back. He said that he didn’t, but wished he did. I questioned how it worked, and all he said was that the government has investigated numerous times and he seems to be running a legit operation. No one knows how DMG generated the returns they did. There were speculations about ties to drugtrafficking, FARC and paramilitaries, but no one could ever prove a connection.

Several weeks went by when the subject of DMG came up again. This time it was at my friend Marco’s apartment, as I was finally getting the keys to my apartment. On that Tuesday, my friends’ maid told us about her brother, who invested successfully DMG for a long time. She said he kept “winning” money, and turned a few million COP into something like 36.000.000, at least on paper. This discussion included my friends Juan and Marco. Marco decided he wanted to take a flier, and throw a million or two COP into DMG – why not? Everyone else seemed to be making money, why not us? Juan and I voiced opposition, but said we might toss in 500.000 COP each as well. My key point was “why is it that you guys, the upper class of Colombia, are only hearing about this now? Doesn’t it make you wonder, all the people before were investing small amounts, but now people like you can invest larger sums. What happens when people start withdrawing? Sounds fishy to me.”

On Wednesday, news broke throughout Colombia that the government is shutting down the piramides all across the country. Riots broke out as people tried to storm offices to recoup their money, only to find taunting notes left on the offices’ front doors. But DMG, the largest, remained open on Wednesday with tremendous lines of people waiting to withdraw their money.

Then on Thursday, during lunch with Juan’s mother, we got word that even DMG was being shut down by the government, and that its leader fled the country. Throngs of people lined up outside DMG’s offices in Bogota hoping to withdraw their money, but the government had seized assets of these piramides. Unfortunately, the heads of these schemes had fled the country along with their investors’ money. Luckily, none of my friends had invested despite their enthusiasm to do so. But my apartment still sits refrigerator- and washer/dryer- less. Looks like I’ll actually have to go buy those appliances instead of getting them for free! Can you imagine?

I guess P.T. Barnum was right, a sucker really is born every minute. Some blame the high fees the nation’s banks charge, while others blame the stupidity of the people for believing they could get what amounted to free money.

Here’s some articles about this craziness…

BBC Story

AP Story

Return to Sender

My return to the United States, and New York, was anything but triumphant. My passport wasn’t ready on Monday, so I went to the embassy on Tuesday after learning that my departure flight was on Wednesday, not Thursday like I had originally thought! This came as quite a shock, and the only rational I could think of for my booking the flights the way I did was because there must have been significant cost savings.

It always amazes me how much a 50,000 COP bill is to most Colombians. My taxi driver did not have change, so he and I needed to wait curbside until another taxi driver stopped to change the bill for him. I had little problems at the airport with my new emergency passport, but I would be unable to secure the visa I needed. Looks like I’ll have to take care of that when I return in February for my sister’s baby, or I’ll see if I can do this while in Colombia.

My flight arrived in Miami around 2pm on Wednesday, and was able to get onto an earlier flight into New York (JFK) via connection in Atlanta. Unfortunately, on Tuesday I started feeling a bit sick, and by the time I landed in New York Wednesday night I had a pretty solid sore throat. I decided to spend Thursday and Friday in the country rather than go into the city as originally planned.

But instantly I noticed the difference in air quality. The air quality in New York, at the passenger pick-up beneath terminal 3 at JFK airport, was better than virtually any air in Bogota. The problem with the air in Bogota is that on the main through fares: 15, 11 and Septima, the busettas are constantly belching out thick black smoke. These busettas clog traffic, since they the bus stops are anywhere someone hails them, and there are so damn many of them. They are all diesel, and are all old. These smog machines combined with the plethora (“Would you say I have a plethora?”) of poorly maintained motorcycles that also spew out gasoline fumes, give the Bogota air, even in the north, a distinct scent. That scent is not present in New York whatsoever. So either the type of pollutants are more advanced in the U.S., meaning we cannot detect them by smell, or the air is cleaner. You be the judge.

I was starving, so I asked to stop at McDonald’s or Burger King, or any fast food joint on the way. We came upon a McDonald’s, and I stuffed myself with an Angus burger and a Quarter Pounder with Cheese. Haven’t eaten that crap in over a year, but man it sure does taste good. Anyway, when I got to my parents house in Bridgehampton three flights and 18 hours later, I hit the sack and slept until around 10am the next morning.

My first few days back have been uneventful, trying to get as much rest as possible to combat this bug I’ve got. The last thing I wanted to do was return to Colombia sicker than I left. But while going through the boxes in my parent’s basement, I found a bunch of things I wanted to bring back to Colombia. I saw a book sitting in my room that my father had finished reading just before I left for Colombia, a book that I have not read in about 4 years – Atlas Shrugged. The book is massive, but it is an incredible story, one that I really relate to. I started reading it this weekend, and through two days have completed Volume 1. The story is timely given the world’s current geopolitical and geoeconomic situation. If you have never read it, I highly recommend you do so. It’s a long read, tedious at times due to the author’s verbose style of writing, but it is well worth it.

Pirates of the Caribbean

These days it seems like the only people making money today are the pirates off the Somali coast. Their hijacking of a Saudi Aramco oil tanker carrying over $120 million of oil was daring and shocked the world. I hear they are demanding $25 million for the return of the vessel, its cargo and its crew, and they’ll likely get it.

So this gave me an idea. With all the smart folks losing jobs today, why not pool resources and create a new Pirates of the Caribbean? I’m already in Colombia, and there’s plenty of coastline down there along with extremely active deep water ports. So, I want to start a Pirate gang, and raise some money to buy a boat. But not any boat, a used military submarine! What else would make a better pirate ship?

A submarine is perfect – stealthy, sleek, hard to detect. Now I’m not talking about a nuclear submarine, those are too costly to operate and maintain. No, I’m talking about a pre-nuclear submarine.

This would be a start-up venture, and it could be a great way to promote job creation in the service sector among all the laid off finance people. I figure we could hire some former Wall St analysts to help determine the best shipping lanes to target. Then we could hire former mortgage-based securities guys to plot courses, model ship boarding scenarios and where sovereign navies are likely to be looking for us, and then hire some investment bankers or securities lawyers to be our chief negotiating team. And the best part, other than the sunk cost of investing in the submarine itself, is that the overhead is virtually zero.

We’d steal our fuel, and no one would be paid salaries. Instead, we’d all get a share of the booty we loot! So, who wants in?

Manana... manana...

Lost.

Ok. So I wasn't on a desert island after a plane crash these last two weeks resulting in my not updating the blog. But the past two weeks were, um, colorful. The most fun part was on Friday, 7 Nov, when I lost my passport and cell phone after a workout in Parque Virrey. So, for about a week I was virtually cut off from communications, only accessible via e-mail when I returned to my friend's apartment since I didn't feel like lugging my laptop around everywhere. Getting a phone replaced is no easy task here in Colombia, so I decided to unlock my blackberry and just get a Comcel SIM Card rather than buy another blackberry. And it still took a week to get a SIM Card!

Losing my passport sucks. I had to visit the embassy and report that I lost my passport. From what I understand, a US Passport has tremendous value on the black market here so the odds of some good semeritan returning my passport to the embassy was highly unlikely. The US Embassy here is a fortress in the middle of nowhere. Now, I knew it was in the middle of nowhere, but I didn't realize where nowhere was until I had the bright idea to walk from the Embassy to the Transmilenio rather than take a taxi. Rather than walk nearly an hour, I could have hopped in a cab, paid $5 and been back up north in 10 minutes. Lesson learned.

But it wasn't all bad news these last two weeks.

After nearly four weeks of going back and forth with the brokers on the local and the apartment, we finally had a breakthrough on Friday, 7 Nov, the same day I lost my passport and phone. They notified me that my codeudor was approved, and that they will finally rent me the apartment! Of course, that wasn't as straightforward as it sounds.

And my former roommate, Velaria (baby daughter of my friends Marco and Paula), gorged herself on a breadstick and proceeded to pass out. Immediately after I snapped this photo, her eyes popped open as if asking "who the fuck just took a picture of me sleeping with bread on my face?" Marco and Paula were gracious enough to let me crash for the last week and a half while I was sorting out the final nonsense with the brokers to rent my apartment. Valeria is probably the happiest baby I've ever encountered, and has some of the funniest expressions ever.

Efficiently inefficient.

One thing that continues to prove true time and time again is that Colombia is incredibly inefficient in many things. Whether it is trying to rent an apartment, or simply receiving bread to go with the olive oil placed on your table before a meal, Colombia often leaves you scratching your head asking "Why?"

As an example, the brokers said they approved me to rent the apartment, but the contract wasn't ready until Wednesday. I expected to sign the contract, and pay a prorated fee for the month of November. But of course I got one last surprise. At the last moment they threw a new fee at me - "Derecho de Contracto," which is essentially a fee for the lawyer to draft the agreement. While their nickel and diming me really pissed me off, I was so tired and frustrated by the whole process that I told them this new fee was total bullshit, and reluctantly paid it and signed the lease just to bring everything to a close.

And the apartment, while clean, had some issues like a blown bulb in the master bathroom, installed surround sound speaker wires that had no central origination point and a few other items. During the move in inspection I told the, "this (the blown bulb) needs to be replaced, an apartment is supposed to be turned over in perfect working condition." The broker responded by saying replacing the bulb was my responsibility. Come on!

At one of the nicer Italian restaurants, a friend and I sat down for lunch and were quickly greeted by a pleasant waitress who placed a plate on the table and poured some olive oil into it, and ground a bit of pepper as well.

That plate sat there for 10 minutes all by itself. Alone, collecting to one side because of the slightly off-balance table, waiting patiently for bread that would never come. The waitress, and other staff walked by, looking at the table, but never seemed to notice "hey, where's the bread to go with that olive oil?" Instead, my friend and I watched as other tables received baskets of bread, while we started joking. Finally, another waitress came by and she asked if we would like any bread.

After lunch, while walking down the street, we noticed something that absolutely amazed my friend and I. A garage that had stairs rather than a driveway! I don't even know how to even try to explain this one.

The Embassy is open!

On Thursday I got the keys to the apartment and moved it. The embassy is now open in Bogota. And none too soon as my first visitors - Tony and Mario, arrived on Friday. The apartment currently has two airbeds, towels, sheets and some food, but it lacks a refrigerator, washing machine and any furniture other than a few plastic lawn chairs left in the backyard. I'll begin to furnish the apartment when I return from Thanksgiving. For now I can live another few days sleeping on an airbed.

What I didn't realize was how cold the apartment got at night. Mario pointed out how cold it was, and illustrated it, when he emerged from one of the guest rooms fully clothed saying that is how he slept. So on Saturday he offered a housewarming gift of duvets or space heaters. We couldn't find space heaters hence he bought two duvets, which were well worth the investment.

The apartment has a balcony, fireplace, laundry room, three bedrooms (one used as an office), and a 50 square meter private terrace. The terrace will be the initial home of CrossFit Bogota, as some friends have encouraged me to train people on the terrace and in Parque Virrey (at the end of my block) to build up a client base before starting to spend money on renting a local (storefront).

Host.

I find it pretty amazing that a mere seven weeks after arriving in Bogota, I am already playing the role of host for visitors. My spanish is still suspect, though improving fast, but with the help of a solid group of friends who have helped me get situated very fast I have in fact become a local.

Anyway, Friday night, Tony, Mario and I went for dinner and drinks at Salto del Angel on Parque 93. The night started with decent food, a festive atmosphere and deafening music. We then went over to Alma, which was packed and pretty fun, but the ultimate destination was Maroma. Maroma (right) is the club that has a retractable roof, and is by far the hottest spot in Bogota.

As luck would have it, I lost the number of the "hot chick" which was lost when I lost my phone. But while at Maroma I turned around to see her standing immediately behind me. The first words out her mouth were, "hey! I tried contacting you but I didn't get any responses. I'm so drunk." Sounded good, until I realized she was there with some Colombian Senator. What followed was an awkward session of exchanged glances and dancing as she was clearly not wanting to be with the Senator, but at the same time couldn't just ditch him to hang with me.

No matter, as I met another hottie named Maria Paula. I ran into her in the bathroom when she was checking her hair, and I told her she looked perfect. We then ended up hanging out at the same corner of the bar in Maroma where we danced and talked. At least, I listened and did my best to speak Spanish since it turned out she doesn't speak English.

The next night we headed off to Andres Carne de Res, a place that, as I've said before, has no equal anywhere in the world. And is a place that no words, photos or movies can do justice. We arrived on a rainy Saturday night, and I decided that since it was Mario's birthday next week, we would celebrate it at Andres. He was made Honores de la Casa, crowned and presented a ceramic birthday cake. The night was a classic. Tony made one fatal error - switching from Absolut Mandarin and Jugo de mandarin to Mandarino cocktails. It was a raucous evening...



Thanksgiving.

I'm heading back to the States for the first time since Sept 20th. I'll be in NYC for about a week, returning to Bogota on the 28th. I then get to buy furniture, start generating revenues through CrossFit Bogota's official opening and prepare for the next wave of visitors on December 6th when Alejo (my original host here) and Andy arrive. Should be one for the ages.

T.I.C. (This Is Colombia)

For those who don't yet know, Colombians are notorious for following one rule -- that the rules can change at any time. When you think you've got a process figured out, someone will require something different just because. There is no real ryhme or reason, it just is the way it is. Upon my first visit to Shanghai my friends told me of an expression "T.I.C." which stood for "This Is China." They used it as the answer anytime something peculiar would present itself, and I found that it also aptly applied to Colombia. Maybe it's something with countries starting with the letter "C." That would explain Canada!

Renting 101 - Colombian style

Another week passed with little progress on the leases for the apartment and gym, and in fact things got quite confusing. On Monday morning I was told I'd have to put up a guarantee for each property in excess than originally discussed. Now, bear in mind I already proposed paying 3 months up front for the apartment, and 3 months upfront for the gym. Given the currency exchange rates near multi-year highs, I figured why not lock in a good rate. I'd offer more, but I do have TWO rents rather than one. Anyway, the "guarantee" I was informed about Monday morning was vaguely described as 6 months rent for the apartment and 3 more months rent for the gym, and could be in the form of a "deposit" or "insurance."

I like to think that while I've moved to Bogota, I still have kept my wits about me. My understanding of insurance coincides with that of the rest of the civilized world - that one pays a premium to have an insurance company guarantee a sum of money be paid to the policy holder or beneficiary upon some event. I checked, and confirmed that my understanding was indeed the norm -- http://www.investorwords.com/2510/insurance.html. So, I was a bit surprised when I was told that "insurance" meant making a full payment to the landlord. I countered by saying, "isn't that a deposit? I thought insurance meant I pay premiums to someone but didn't have to put up all the money." However, I was rebuffed. Perhaps Colombia is a bizarro-insurance land. Who the hell knows?

Well, after speaking with friends, I learned that while Colombia has many peculiarities (more shortly), the concept of insurance here is the same as it is the world over. The person telling me about the guarantees was incorrect. But throughout the week it was organized confusion in its finest, a clusterfuck if you will, as details changed and communication breakdowns abound. With Monday's crisis defused by the addition of a second coduedor (think co-signer), things looked back on track. But by Thursday it became clear, at least to me, that details about one of my coduedor's situations was not properly conveyed, which led to the brokers' wanting to pull both properties off the table because the documentation he provided did not show the kind of support they wanted to see. That's because he, like any smart businessperson, has much of his assets in the name of the company or his spouse to reduce his tax burden. This fact was not conveyed, so the brokers were irate when they saw bank statements and formularios that looked less than stellar. But nerves were calmed and new terms were offered by the end of the week, which sounded awfully similar to those of Monday.

So, tomorrow is the showdown with the brokers to come to some sort of a resolution. I am armed with cash waiting in the U.S., two coduedors, my lawyer and my accountant. My business registration should be complete by tomorrow, which means I'll have the documents necessary to establish a corporate bank account even though I, myself, cannot be a signer on the account (strange I know). But this will start to make things easier as I will be able to get my "Business Owner Visa" and Cedula (national ID card). After such I will be somebody! We'll see if I can break this logjam.

Why Ask Why?

Over the past month and a half that I've been here, I've noticed some strange things. Some, I've been lucky enough to photograph (right), while others I have not. Below is a list of some oddities I've witnessed in Colombia. Regardless of how strange you think some may be you've got to take my word for it that they're true.

• Eating hamburgers with plastic gloves on - I suppose this is done in an effort to avoid getting ketchup, mustard or other burgerly scents on the fingers. Kinda makes sense since my fingers always smell of ketchup after eating a burger, but still looks like something out of Silence of the Lambs.
• Women cleaning the men's restroom while men are still in it - this one is just downright strange to me.
  
• Complete disregard for red lights - they might as well not even spend the money on traffic lights since no one cares if they're red or green.
  
• "Cuantos cuartos?" - a question asked anytime you pay with a credit card. Here there is an option to split your bill into multiple payments throughout the year, so in a sense, spreading your bill out on your credit card. Kinda seems redundent, doesn't it? Needless to say, I always say "uno."
  

Shipping not included.

I tried shipping some items from the U.S. for the first time, and the packages actually arrived to my pleasant surprise. However, upon their arrival more than a week ago, they were stuck in customs. Once finally released earlier this week I was contacted to coordinate a delivery time. Of course, they said "por la manana" and by 3pm there was no delivery. So I went out to do a workout before training others, and sure enough the delivery man showed up at my friend's apartment around 4pm with my packages.

However, despite my registering my credit card with the shipping company, I received a call from my friend's wife telling me that the delivery man was demanding payment in cash! Well, that is a surprise. After bombarding the company's website demanding they charge my credit card as instructed for the shipping fees, etc., because in the event something was lost, stolen or damaged I'd want some records. My efforts were in vain, as I was told Colombia didn't have a capability to charge credit cards for these fees. So, I finally gave up, told them to hold my packages at their office and paid in cash so they would release my packages. However, I am so angry at Aeropost about their misleading me that I am demanding a refund of my "registration" fee, and am considering filing a complaint against them with the Better Business Bureau. Sure, my packages got here, but the service is far from what is promised.

Trick or Treat!

Of course, the week ended with Halloween. My favorite of all Holidays. No matter how much you hype it up, it never seems to let you down. This year, my friends and I decided to dress as a 1970s basketball team, topped off with a red, white and blue ABA style basketball. Our destination, Andres of course, for their annual Halloween party. Now on a normal Saturday night Andres is indescribably amazing, but on Halloween it was beyond. Our costumes were quite a hit. I don't have photos yet, but will post some as soon as I do.

[Updated Friday @ Noon]

Okay folks, here are a few of the photos from Halloween...


And George Michael decided to join the team late night...

Almost...

"I don't trust air I can't see."
- Capt Ramsey (Gene Hackman in Crimson Tide)

One thing I've noticed since leaving La Macarena is the quality of air in the north compared with the south. Where I was living, down near Cll 26 and Ave de Caracas, the air smelled of exhaust thanks to countless 15+ year old buses and busettas. And the area near the airport, where I taught the petroleum executive before his move, was all industrial so the air there was thick as well.

But it didn't hit me until I woke up Monday morning at my friend Jurgen's apartment. I looked out his southern-facing window, and saw a band of brownish-yellow in the distance. As I looked to the west, the band lightened and faded away. And when I walked to his northern-facing window there was no band whatsoever. I wish I took a photo, but I didn't.

Though I assure you the differnce in air quality is striking. This fact is most evident when you blow your nose, but I won't get into further detail as I'm sure you get the point.

And to that end Maroma, Bogota's hottest new nightclub, features a retractable roof. Yes, think Toronto Skydome. Every so often, the roof opens and the heat generated from a few hundred hot, dancing bodies is released. The other night, I looked up as the roof opened and between the flashing lasers I could actually see stars. The sight was quite amazing. I tried to snap a photo, but they didn't come out at all. Sorry, guess you'll have to see for yourself when you visit.

Casa de Geoff!

I am told that I can expect to receive the keys this week! I can't wait to finally have my own home. Here are a few pics to get you acquainted. Already, I'm expecting my first guests in mid-November: Tony, Mario and perhaps even Mook.




To the right is my feeble attempt to create a floorplan of the apartment. Here are some highlights:

• The top left gray box is the balcony
• The top right corner is the fireplace
• Back grayish area is the private terrace, which is HUGE!
• The center room facing the terrace is the guest room/office (feel free to visit anytime!)

We'll see if I can get all the paperwork squared away this week. I sure hope so, because the Colombian Peso (COP) is now converting at almost 2400:1 USD. I'd love to take advantage of the current rates. When I first visited in July the COP/USD exchange rate was around 1800.

CrossFit Bogota

The other day at the globogym I've been going to, I got word from a friend that they were not happy with me. They didn't like that I was "training" (aka working out with) my friends in their gym, which made the other trainers jealous. Oh well. So, they kicked me out. The manager told me that I am no longer welcome there, though I didn't pay attention since I knew what was coming. Thank God I paid with my Amex vs. cash, DK that trade!

Anyway, it gives me even more incentive to get the gym open for business as all my friends will cease going to globogym in favor of CrossFit Bogota. I'm expecting to receive the keys to the former bar that will become CrossFit Bogota, my first business venture in Colombia. To everyone's amazement, it has only taken five and a half weeks since hitting the ground to starting a business. My friends have been super supportive, making the process a lot easier. Had I tried this alone I'd be up shit's creek without a paddle.

I've met with a couple of architects to get construction cost estimates, and have gotten a shipping logistics provider lined up to deliver the equipment I'm ordering from the U.S. So it's time to make some pesos!

I expect to open on November 1st. Here are some pics of the "box," and of course you're all welcome to train here when you visit...




Not in Kansas Anymore.

In a stark reminder that Bogota, and Colombia, are still somewhat rough around the edges, several explosive devices (read "M-80 firecrackers") detonated around the city, including two in the north. I was near one of the locations at the time of the detonation, but didn't hear or see anything. A friend of mine told me about the terrorist acts, and warned me to stay away from the shopping centers because the police suspected more devices existed. The people here were genuinely afraid, and the girl I was supposed to go out with Thursday night postponed until next week. So whoever was responsible just made an enemy of me.

If you're really interested, here's a link to the story:
http://news.xinhuanet.com/english/2008-10/25/content_10249495.htm
http://ap.google.com/article/ALeqM5gxuvWXyV9lLIZ9eOvgJO5EOnhmwwD940EHO80

Red Tape, Colombian-style.

I had my first experience with Colombian bureaucracy this week when I visited a Notary to get some documents notarized related to my new business. It is an interesting process that looks something like the flowchart on the right.

To summarize, the process goes something like this:

1. Get in line
2. Give documents to lady behind counter
3. Give proof of ID to the lady behind the counter
   
4. Sign documents
5. Give thumbprints in ink adjacent to signatures
6. Take receipt
7. Get in another line
8. Pay guy in a little box
9. Get another receipt
10. Go back in line to the first lady
11. Give her the second receipt
    
12. Wait
13. Wait
    
14. Wait
15. Receive documents

Efficiency is not Colombia's specialty, but at least I got done what needed to get done.

Good News.

While most people think that Colombia is the land of drug lords, civil war and kidnappings, the reality is quite different. Sure, there were the small explosions this week causing about a dozen minor injuries, but overall security, at least in Bogota, is solid. I tend to think that the popular Hollywood notion of Colombia provides an excellent smoke screen to establish business activities while others still debate doing business here. Being here early I think will pay off in the long-term.

And today, two major stories crossed the newswires:

1. Colombians discover 10 TONS of cocaine being readied to ship to Mexico
http://ap.google.com/article/ALeqM5h8ZSyZyY4pg6cLy2NxdfMRaD1y7QD942FELO0

2. A former Congressman was released after 8 years of captivity from FARC
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/7691507.stm

My point is that there really seems to be a drive towards stability, security and peace here. And if the government can keep the economy stable, or at least somewhat stable, in light of the global economic meltdown currently in progress, then I think within 24 months many will see that Colombia is a place that offers tremendous opportunities. My goal, is to have already positioned myself with several successful businesses to exploit that influx of people and capital.