Signing off from Colombia

Signing off. Tonight we go black for a few weeks. The next stop is Atlanta tomorrow to take care of business, visit family and friends and regroup. After that? Canada!

But first, a few words about Bogota. This grand city is under-rated. Who knew any of this about the city of Bogota? We certainly did not; before our visit here our imagination conjured an old tired city where our security might be at stake. And maybe that was the case years ago. Today, Bogota and Colombia in general, are among the world’s top tourism destinations. And considering Bogota’s pure water, clean air, the abundance of amazing parks, city plazas, transportation, and cultural opportunities, plus low-cost housing and food, the quality of life here is very high. There is another side too, however. The city and all of Colombia have serious social and political issues: heavy traffic in which drivers are required to switch days for eligibility to drive. Some days people must work from home or cannot work unless they walk, bike or take a taxi.

Corruption, mistrust of political and security agencies, poverty, social and economic segregation, and drug use here are very concerning. And yes, although not nearly as powerful and dangerous as during the drug cartel heydays, drug trafficking still goes on. It is sad to say but most of these issues can be said about many, many cities worldwide. Why?

I think the part I like best is the abundance of green space. It is not just found in the better parts of the city; it is everywhere. Even the barrios on the hillsides have parks, playgrounds, and exercise plazas. The food here is fantastic and cheap. Extremely affordable.

Here’s one of the best parts of our visit here. Our check-in information for our Airbnb rental said to contact Aunt Betty via WhatsApp when we are near the apartment. We did. When we arrived here in Bogota, our Uber driver dropped us off right outside our apartment door. As we opened the car doors, Aunt Betty stepped outside to hug us and greet us. She showed us around our lovely apartment — which belongs to her sister. She escorted us to the Carulla supermarket here in the complex so that we could pick up items we need and along the way she pointed out all the best restaurants and fruit and veggie shops. We hit it off. She practiced her English and we practiced our Spanish. Her son and his family live in Houston; she visits them for six months each year.

During the last week of our stay, we ran into Aunt Betty as we walked home from the supermarket. We caught her up on all we have been doing in Bogota and told her how much we like the city. Then she said some things we couldn’t make out for sure but we knew she was saying she hoped to get together with us before we leave.

We went to Aunt Betty’s apartment yesterday afternoon. Her apartment is in the same complex as ours but we almost needed a map app to find her building. We came at her invitation for chocolate, pan, and queso from her hometown in south Columbia. Our visit was something hard to describe to give it its wonderful due, but I will give it a try.

Although she has lived here for thirty-six years, her apartment looked recently remodeled with the best of everything. She showed us photos of her family cleverly displayed in cool stands. We chatted about everything . . . with the help of Google Translate. Then we watched her as she made hot chocolate for us and coffee for her. The hot chocolate was made with pieces of a bar of chocolate melted in hot water in a metal pitcher over the flame from a stove and frequently mixed with a utensil called a molinillo (pronounced mo-le-nee-JO). Here’s a link that explains it all. https://flavorsofbogota.com/hot-chocolate-in-colombia.

As we sat at her kitchen island, we probably did it all wrong but we did not add the soft cheese to our hot chocolate. Instead, we spread it on the small crunchy balls of pan made with maize and mantequilla. No flour. It was a tasty treat also from her hometown. We have a couple of bags we are taking home to share.
The friendship and love we felt in her apartment were almost overwhelming. Finally, I asked her, “Como se llama?” What is your name? Is it really Betty? She smiled and said, “No, it’s Beatrice.”

My God in heaven, thank you for another day, another new country, and another new friend! Amen. We will see this lady and quite possibly, in Colombia, again.

We hope to see you again . . . from Canada in mid May!!