Week Two

Hablan Ingles!
As I mentioned, I have a gig teaching English to an executive at a major industrial and energy company here in Bogota. My student is a family guy, mid 40s, with four children. Every morning at 6:00am, I meet with him to "teach English" (help him improve his English speaking and comprehension skills for an hour and a half). He has a pretty good grasp of the English language already, and his dream is to go to New York City. The lesson books are a little strange, and since I've got zero teaching experience the lessons are a bit ad hoc -- some work from the textbooks, and some conversation. In particular, conversations range from my student asking, "Why did you leave New York City to come to Colombia?" (as if I made some horrible mistake) to telling me about his favorite musicians such as Green Day, Metallica and Coldplay.

Commuting Suicide
Now, the meetings take place at my student's corporate offices, which are near the airport. An inconvenient location to say the least. So, at 5:30am every weekday, I walk down the hill from Plaza del Torros in La Macarena to the "bus stop" (more on this in a moment) across the street from some colonial looking church. I use the term "bus stop" loosely because the bus does indeed stop, but there is no real method to taking the bus. The method of taking a bus is combination of hailing a taxi and spinning a globe to pick a vacation destination. Sure, the buses have signs that say where they're going, generally, but there are no set stops or entry points. Instead, you hop, quite literally, onto a bus as it slows to a stop wherever you are standing. You wave your hand at the driver once you can make out the locations listed on the sign in the front window, and 1 out of 2 times, depending on how crowded the bus is or how fast the driver is going, the bus stops and you can get on. The buses are cheap, about $0.50, but they look like they should be far less. Quite often, the driver pulls away leaving people struggling to balance, hanging on for dear life while they pass the fare to the driver who provides change as well. Most buses have a turnstyle, which adds to the fun, as you can be on the stairs either waiting to go through the turnstyle or stumbling through it with the bus doors open behind you as the driver pulls away. Because of my height, I often find myself standing in the stairwell with an open door behind me. It makes for quite an exillerating thrill ride. Parachuting? Nah, try a bus in Bogota!

But the most fun part is the return trip when I have to cross an eight lane highway, divided into four sections of what appears to be two lanes each. I leave the front gate of the office complex, and just like Frogger, time when to cross to the next divider safely as cars, buses, trucks and motorcycles whiz bye. My favorite part is at divider three, when the path ends, and then picks up again about 10 meters to the west. So not only do you have to cross the traffic, but also you have to angle to get onto the path or face hopping a highway divider fence. I opt for the angle method. At least I'm usually not the only one scurrying across the highway.

Once across the highway, it's a simple matter of figuring out which bus to take to return, and then getting off in a familiar location before the bus takes a turn for God knows where.

Weather.
But nothing adds to the commuting fun like the morning weather. Usually, it either rains or a thick dew sets in to make everything moist and the air humid. Rain is especially fun because of the terrific puddles that develop on the roads because of all the potholes and shoddy infrastructure. Thus, when walking curbside along the highway, it is an absolute necessity to stay as far from the actual curb as possible because drivers don't make an effort to avoid creating a tsunami for pedestrians.

In Bogota, they say you will experience all four seasons in a single day. I didn't believe that when I was told this, but having experienced it for two straight weeks I can attest to its accuracy. The rain can be the most frustrating as it is usually so light that an umbrella offers no comfort. And when the rain is heavy, there is no staying dry. But when the sun comes out the sun feels incredible, and its strength in the thin mountain air of Bogota is awesome.

Cold Showers.
While my current living situation with the Johnsons is cheap, and friendly, I'm growing tired of cold showers, doors that do not close all the way due to warping and having to head back to La Macarena, which is far from all my friends and work, each night after dark where the Johnsons don't have wifi. So essentially when I get "home" I have no option but to sleep no matter how much I might still have to do. So, I now forgo the morning shower and head straight out to teach, after my bus adventure hop onto the Transmilenio, walk 5-6 blocks to Diletto Cafe to use their wifi to do some work and finally head to the gym for a workout and hot shower.

Intro to CrossFit.
After proving that one person can become a circus act at a local gym by performing some CrossFit routines, I recruited a few friends who wanted to try the workout out for themselves. So, myself and four friends - two buddies, one of their wives (hot isn't the word) and a fitness model. I met the fitness model a day or two earlier when she said, "I like your workout," and it turns out she was friends with my friends. Needless to say, the two women were attention grabbers, and the workout required these four poor souls to run around the gym to use three separate pieces of equipment to complete a workout in the fastest time possible. They finished, and were all exhausted after 15-20 minutes of work. The problem was that the gym we went to is poorly laid out and the lack of equipment allowed them to rest as bottlenecks materialized at certain equipment.

I'm getting close to finding a location to open the gym, and think the demand is here to really hit it out of the park.

Canal Street?
My friends took me to a place at the northern border of Bogota called San Andresito. It was as if someone took Canal Street, put a roof over it and replaced all the Chinese and Korean people hocking goods with Colombians. The place was gigantic, and is a black market-ish "free trade zone" where you can find great deals on clothing, shoes, snacks, electronics, movies, video games and all sorts of random goodies at a steep discount to retail prices. Though, to buy electronics down here is a waste since even without taxes and tarriffs the prices are still far higher than in the United States. Still, there are good values to be had.

Apartment.
I've identified one apartment of the 15 or so I've seen as a winner. That is primarily because my favorite apartment was snatched from me by the Venezuelan government looking for an apartment for two of their people. But, I am sticking to my guns and my budget, and while one broker showed me two beautiful apartments I refuse to spend more than I have planned. Hopefully I'll get out of La Macarena sooner than later as the daily commute to the north is such a drain. Perhaps if some friends lived in the area I'd consider staying, but virtually all I do and know is in the north hence my need to move.