Coconut Bombs

Our journey started in Bogota, a city with a rich and tumultuous history buzzing with beautiful people, art and culture. We landed at 6 a.m. and hopped in a cab to Platypus, one of the first hostels in the colonial center of town called La Calendaria. Much to our chagrin, they had no room at the inn. Ambitious, we thought that we could hang out in their communal space until some travelers checked out. We just needed to hold on for a few hours. We quickly realized that we could not endure the hard furniture and chilly air for four hours, no way. A serious lack of sleep and stiff bodies called for immediate attention. Luckily, the hostel right across the street had a room for us and they were gracious enough to let us check in a few hours earlier than normal. We crashed. It felt so good to lay our heads down.

After the much needed snooze, we went on our first 'wander about.' Among the most striking characteristics of La Calendaria is the brightly colored colonial architecture with clay tile rooftops and cobbled streets. This area is also know for its ubiquitous and thought provoking graffiti. Clever artists communicate their contempt for the seemingly unending struggles people face by making ordinary objects and symbols into powerful statements. A pineapple, when you look closely, is actually a grenade and people are depicted throwing coconut bombs. Most of the graffiti is an amazing display of artistic talent while some of the graffiti is down right blatant and angry. Understandably so. On a church located near the presidential palace in the town center, a tagger wrote "el estato y la religion la misma mierda son." The corruption runs deep and the people are frustrated and tired.

We were privy to an apartment in the North, which is where the wealthy people live. Even though I know this to be true, it is still disturbing to see the stratification between the rich and the poor. On the way to North Bogota from La Candelaria, we saw where the poor live - in the slums. The shanty houses are stacked on top of each other on the side of a steep hill making up what they call the barrios. The place that, we were told by locals, there is no reason to visit. The people from these areas come on horse drawn trailers to pick stuff from the garbage. They find items like cardboard and plastic to recycle for money.

In spite of the struggles and the stratification, Bogotanos have been nothing but kind and hospitable to us. We feel safe and welcome in this big city.

We´re leaving here for Medellin, the city of eternal spring, in two days but look forward to a few more days in Bogota on Scotty's way out.