A POT OF GOLD FROM MY APARTMENT WINDOW IN BOGOTA

AN ARTIST WITH NO ARMS IN USUQUÈN

DJ PAUL OAKENFOLD IN BOGOTA

The last time I saw Paul Oakenfold, I was nineteen years old and he was dj'ing in The Union at Strathclyde University. I had hair, and was almost certainly drinking pints of lager served in plastic glasses. This time, I was thirty four years old, had no hair and was drinking Martinis served in cocktail glasses.

Last time I saw Paul Oakenfold, I remember being drunk. This time I barely remember even leaving Prada bar to catch a taxi down to Piso 30, the nightclub on the 30th floor of a downtown Bogota skyscraper where the British DJ was headlining. The Martinis on the cocktail menu in Prada are strong. Lychee Martinis had the heads of both me and Gloria, the Colombiana I was with, spinning. The Limon Martini I then followed it up with tipped me well and truly over the edge.

Maybe I am getting old, as I cannot remember ever getting drunk on two drinks before. Maybe Paul Oakenfold is also getting old, as I cannot remember him dancing like a tipsy grandmother at a wedding when I saw him behind the decks in Glasgow in 1995. Dodgy dancing aside, his dj set at Piso 30 last night was amazing, as was the panoramic night-sky view of Bogota and the company of the beautiful Gloria. 

 Fortunately the music was a lot better than the photography

A RUBIKS CUBE, A LOLLYPOP AND TWO MARBLES

On Wednesday, I found myself getting a little frustrated when the Year 6 class (10-11 year olds) that I teach English to out at Soacha couldn't understand the difference between 'I', 'you', 'he' and 'she'. Today however, all was forgiven, when the same children and their teacher invited me to join their 'Día del Amor y la Amistad' (Day of Love and Friendship) celebrations, and they served me sausage pasta and Big Kola, fed me chocolate and even gave me three regalos (presents): a Rubiks Cube, a lollypop and two marbles.

As I watched the Soachan schoolchildren giving each other presents and thanking each other with kisses, I found myself reminiscing about my own schooldays back in Scotland when I was eleven years old. I remembered one boy in my class getting screamed at by the teacher for pinging a girls bra open during a lesson. I remembered two girls in my class getting screamed at by the teacher for burning someone elses homework in the tampon incinerator in the girls toilet. I remembered several boys in my class getting screamed at by the teacher after a gift-shop CCTV camera caught them stealing whoopee cushions during a school trip to Edinburgh Castle.

Fortunately, there was no arson, theft or unwanted amorous advances at Soacha school today. There was just pasta, cola and lots of smiles and laughter.

  

A STUDENT PROTEST IN BOGOTA

Well that was exciting. I was walking home along Carrera 11 minding my own business this afternoon, when I suddenly noticed several people taking photos with their mobile phones. I wonder what's going on here, I thought to myself, just before I spotted several riot police lined across Calle 73, and just before my nose started to sting and my eyes started to water.

- 'Que paso?' I grimaced at a couple of girls standing nearby, watching. What happened?

- 'Es una protesta de estudiantes.' I think one of them said. I say think, because she was talking to me through the sleeve of her jacket that she was protecting her face from the acrid tear gas in the air.

There were more riot police at Calle 73. I stood and watched as protesting students threw flares at them, and they in turn, fired gas canisters back at the great unwashed.

My mouth still tastes a little strange two hours later. I am not sure if it is from the tear gas canisters the police were using to disperse Bogota's student population, or if it is from the sour taste from not having my camera with me at the time.

A PERFECT (VALENTINES) DAY IN COLOMBIA

Lou Reed

Transformer (1972)

Perfect Day

Just A Perfect Day, Drink Sangria In The Park,

And Then Later, When It Gets Dark, 

We Go Home.

Just A Perfect Day,

Feed Animals In The Zoo

Then Later, A Movie, Too,

And Then Home.

Ross McL

Saturday 18th September 2010

Perfect Day

Just A Perfect Day, Drink Aguardiente In Usuquen,

And Then Later, When It Gets Dark, 

We Stagger Home (Without Paying The Bar Bill).

Just A Perfect Day,

feed Fritanga To Ourselves In Sopó

Then Later, A (Scottish) Movie, Too,

And Then (A Very Drunken Night Out And Then) Home

  

 

A BEER IN BBC WITH MARCELA AND HER BROTHER

KARLS LAST DAY AT SOACHA

I am going to miss Karl the English volunteer when he heads back to Blighty shortly. The two of us have been sharing our English teaching at the school in Soacha since we arrived in Bogota almost three weeks ago, and it has largely worked out well. I speak better Spanish, but Karl is better at getting the kids to keep quiet during lessons, as indeed he did on Wednesday when he kicked a couple of Year Eights boys out the classroom for being disruptive.

Today however, all was forgiven, when Karl gave all the boys in the class football strips that his friends back in the UK had donated before he flew out to Colombia. It was a really nice gesture, and one that was gratefully appreciated by the children, judging by the wide smiles and the genuine thank yous that a lot of them gave us afterwards. Some of these kids apparently wear their school uniforms at the weekend because they have no other clothes, which really gets you thinking.

Karl and the Year Eights at Soacha

NAKED LADIES IN BOGOTA

A week ago I hadn't even heard of Fernando Botero, one of Colombia's most well-known artists. A week and a visit to Museo Botero later, I think he could well be my favourite painter. Along with some fantastic and often comical artwork by Botero himself, the museum had a collection on display that included Dali, Picasso, Klimt, Monet and many, many more. Bogota's Museo Botero is definitely up there with the Guggenheims, Louvres and Tate Moderns of this world. And the best thing was getting in was completely free.

  

Me and Laura with the Mona Lisa

A LOCAL DERBY IN BOGOTA

Millionarios versus Santa Fe is the Rangers/Celtic old firm derby equivalent here in Bogota. Its called Clásico Capitalino and is as big as football gets in Colombian football. Riot police lined the streets outside the El Campine stadium as four Gringos walked nervously towards it. I was body searched twice to get in, just in time to watch toilet rolls and fireworks being thrown as the players took the pitch. 

One section of the Millonario fans jumped up and down for the entire ninety minutes. When the Santa Fe fans jumped, the section of the stadium I was sitting on vibrated. I am not sure if the arbitro (referee) was a wanker, but he certainly needed a new pair of glasses based on some of his decisions. The F word was not shouted much, but the P word (puta) was used frequently, normally in the direction of the opposition fans, and normally accompanied with one finger in the air.

Two Santa Fe players were red carded. Millionarios hit the post, missed a penalty, and really should have won the match. But they didn't, and it finished 0-0.

  

AGUARDIENTE, CERVEZAS AND SALSA IN BOGOTA: A DANGEROUS COMBINATION

SOME NICE FOOD AT 'ANDRES CARNE DE RES' IN BOGOTA

A COUPLE OF BEERS ON STUDENT THURSDAY IN BOGOTA

DRAWING GARFIELDS IN BOGOTA

I made the mistake of drawing a Garfield at the orphanage this afternoon. I should have learnt from the folly of drawing cartoon characters for young children during my time with the four young boys at my Guatemalan homestay, but I didn't, so today I spent more than two hours drawing them for a large group of extremely demanding four and five year olds at the orphanage.

- 'Dame un pirate.' a five year old help a piece of paper out to me, when he had seen me drawing a Garfield.

- 'Dame un rata.' a four year old waved another piece of paper in front of my face, before I had even started drawing a pirate.

- 'Dame un robot.' another five year old demanded, whilst I was still struggling to finish my drawing of a swashbuckling bucanner with one leg because of the four year pushing his piece of paper in my face, demanding a picture of a rat.

- 'Dame un conjeco y despues Garfield.' another four year old thrust another piece of paper in front of me, whilst I was still putting the finishing touches on a oro (parrot) on my pirates shoulder, and trying to remember I then had to draw a rat and a robot.

And so it went on. Pirates. Garfields. Robots. Rabbits. Rats. Cats. Dogs. More and more children started gathering around me, holding blank bits of paper and making more and more vocal demands for cartoon characters. There started to be complaints that I was taking too long with each drawing. One little boy started to draw on my head with a blue crayon whilst he waited for his rata (rat). I noticed another little boy had already drawn on my jeans trouser leg with a red crayon whilst waiting for his gato (cat). I noticed this just after I had finished asking another little boy why he was washing his hands with toothpaste, and just after another little boy had started crying because I had only drawn him one robot when he had specifically asked for two. Things were getting out of control.

- 'Necesito regresar a mi casa.' I mumbled. 

I really needed (necesito) to return (regresar) to my house (a mi casa) for a lie down, as I was bloody exhausted after a long afternoon of drawing bloody Garfields.