Cartagena, Colombia
Yesterday i checked out of the Hotel Familiar in the Getsamani District & am now residing at the Hotel de Viajero in Centro (i think it´s also referred to as downtown or Old Town). Michael, Ryan & i had been sharing a room at the Hotel Familiar since Thursday evening. Michael´s Lonely Planet guidebook suggested lodging in other barrios of the city. The barrios around here are Centro (The Old City), Matuna, San Diego, Cabrero, Getsamani & Manga. Regrettably, i didn´t get to say ¡Buen Viaje! to them in person. They had left early in the morning & by noon hadn´t returned, but i was able to leave them a note.
After checking into the Hotel de Viajero, i went in search of comida. Exited the hotel took a right, and then took another right at the corner. The streets here are narrow, extant since the days of the horse & carriage. I walked up this street, avoiding the taxis as i oftentimes had to step off the sidewalk to allow oncoming pedestrians to pass. This street was lined with various shops, many, clothing shops. I entered an art supply store, & purchased replacement lead for my mechanical pencil & some rubber bands (i wrap them around my clothes for a more compact fit inside my backpack). I had previously made a mental note to purchase a second pair of walking shorts, and so, went in search of these. Most of the clothing shops stocked inexpensive "modern" youth gear, multicolored spaghetti strap tops & tight jeans for las chicas, polos, khaki & bermuda shorts, "designer" T-shirts for the guys. After i walked in (& i discovered later this is common in these types of shops), i was greeted by a friendly, smiling young lady in a T-shirt with the stores insigna on the front, who asked me what i was looking for, and made every to help me find some shorts. Overhead, pop music was pumping, and many of the other young ladies employed there were singing & dancing to the music! I tried on a pair of shorts, but they were not to my liking. I seemed to be getting a lot of attention from the other girls. I think perhaps they were surprised to discover i was not Colombiano or even Panamanian when they heard me struggling to speak Spanish. I told the very helpful young lady I would continue up the street to look around, and if I didn´t find anything, I would return later. She said OK, she would wait for me!
I exited the store, headed up the street, noticed a guy selling bolsitas of sliced mango, bought one, ate, then discovered another clothing store across the street. This was a huge discount clothier (reminded me of Kmart). Mostly ropas por las chicas. Didn´t see anything that caught my attention, and headed down the street. Passed another store. This store had a DJ in the front pumping pop tunes out of a large boom box. Here too, I was greeted by a salesclerk, a yound lady in a skyblue T-shirt, who asked me if I needed help, and what was I looking for. Here also, many of the salesclerks were singing & dancing to the music. Eventually, I did find a pair of shorts to my satisfaction, and a shirt. I paid, thanked the young lady for her kind assistance (and later in the day wondered if I was supposed to give her a tip - seems like it´s like that here - more about that later). The belt that I have been wearing was a bit worn before I began this trip, and as I headed back to the hotel, I passed a young man selling belts on the sidewalk. I bought one, dropped my purchases off at the hotel, and resumed my quest por la comida.
Exited right from the hotel, but this time, instead of turning right at the corner, i turned left. Walked down a few blocks, to my left looked interesting, and I walked into a plaza, Plaza Santo Domingo, covered with tables under umbrellas imprinted with "Cafe De Colombia". Surrounding the plaza were small restaurant fronts, the Museum of Modern Art, the Embajada de Colombia (Colombian Embassy), and the sculpture Mujer Reclinada ("Reclining Woman"), by artist Fernando Botero.
I found a chair, a waitress brought me a menu featuring Italian cuisine, much of which I didn´t understand. Reggae music was booming at a reasonable level from a restaurant booth near to mine. I inquired about a salad on the menu, heared the words "lechuga" (lettuce), tomato, queso (cheese), and her recommendation of it being very good and ordered it. While I waited, various street vendors came by my table (& others), offering their wares - bracelets, watches, Cuban cigars, soccer shirts, drawings, T-shirts, CD´s, DVD's. Sometimes one vender would stand in line behind another just waiting to make his pitch. Some don´t wait.
The salad arrived. Six large squares of (mozzarrella?) cheese, each covered with a large slice of tomato, basil leaves, and the plate sprinkled with shredded basil. Included French bread, and lemonade ("limonada" is quite common here at most of the eateries, and is quite good, made from freshly squeezed lemons). I wasn´t expecting so much cheese, but I enjoyed the salad anyway. While eating, a well dressed "gentleman" of 31, handed me a business card, and politely invited me to visit his shop of "handmade" Colombian art. He hung around for a while & we chatted. I finished my meal, paid la camarera, and as I rose to leave, the art guy was back, gently insisting that I visit his shop about 10 steps to the left of my table.
The "handmade" Colombian art was a jewelry shop specializing in emerald jewelry. He escorts me into the shop of mirrors & glass & shininess. The door closes. Just to the rear behind the display case a small group is huddled. From the group emerged a perhaps 50-something, bespectacled, moderately heavy set man, with a big belly, in a dark, pressed, short sleeved shirt. He had a, but respectable command of english (apparently he had already been briefed by the other guy), gives me a quick discription of the Colombian emerald business, and tells me that since I am in Colombia you "must" purchase an emerald (he said it, politely, with passion, like it was some unspoken commandment) to take home as a souvenir. He shows me a few of the pendants and earrings, all the while continuing a steady stream of dialogue describing their preciousness. I countered, politely, that I was not a rich man, just a humble traveler, on a meager budget, carrying a small backback, trying to make his way to Carnaval in Brazil. He said something like "Yes, of course, but if you should ever change your mind please come back and visit us". I exited the store with a smile, and my usual "Gracias. Tiene un buen dia."And waiting for me just outside the door was the other guy, now trying to give me a (subtle) pitch about visiting las Islas del Rosario in the morning. There was a guy standing next to him with some kind of a form apparently having to do with this, but I kindly declined, and told him I would think about it (I must have told him the hotel I was staying in because at 7am this morning I got a call in my room, and it was the same guy, reminding that the boat was leaving soon for del Rosario).
After disintangling myself from this guy, i found myself walking alongside a young fellow, maybe 15, who had offered his bracelets to me while I waited for my tomato & cheese salad. So we walk around for awhile. He speaks a little English & sort of took on the roll of a guide, explaining to me this area of Cartagena. He says, disgustingly, that the people that live in this area are rich, that the restaraunt I just ate at, is way over priced, and continues to walk with me explaining to me the history of this part of Cartagena. This area is interesting in that, probably similar to what you see in many cities in Europe, the buildings and streets have existed for centuries. We turn down a street and run into another guy who was trying to sell me CD´s back while I waited for my salad. This guy was a riot. Hilarious. He could probably sell sand to the desert! Water to the ocean! Wings to birds! I would have loved to get this dude on video as he improvised one pitch after another about why I needed to by a CD from him.
I headed back the hotel, said farewell to the youngster, and returned to my room for a late nap.
My 1st Saturday Night in Cartagena
The way I figure it, in the land of cumbia, it is mandatory you go dancing your 1st Saturday night in Cartagena.
With my check in to this hotel, I was given a Cartagenas de Indias Pocket Map which listed a discoteca not too far away called Diva. So I put on my new threads, went and had dinner, and all excited, headed to Diva. After I thought I found it, I headed up the stairs (I´m wearing shorts), until a guy calls after me, (I noticed other people going up the steps too, a bit older than me, and dressed quite a bit more conservatively). So I stop, turn around, descend the stairs and ask the guy "Hay la discoteca Diva?", he looks at me with a frown, and says "no". Another man points to a spot further down the square (I didn´t mention this square, the Plaza de los Coches (Square of the Carriages) is crowded with people, a big nightlife spot) and I find a young guy sitting on a stool in front of the entrance to some stairs. I see the sign "Diva". H begins talking a mile a minute to me about "chicas bonitas", and says the cover is 10,000 pesos. I pay him, go up the stairs and enter. Turns out it´s just a bar. So I leave a bit disappointed. He implores me to come back later. I tell him I would. As I walk away, another guy starts talking to me about another club just on the other side of the building. As we walk there, I ask him if there is club that has a large..., i couldn´t think of the word, so I pointed at the ground. "Piso" he says. Yes, he says, the Club La Salaba has a large dancefloor. He gives me the wrong directions, says it´s located in a direction totally opposite from it´s actual location. So, after some walking around asking for directions, I find the Club La Salaba. Walk up the stairs all excited, the bouncer says something to me I don´t understand. I didn´t hear a number, so he wasn´t asking for a cover. And I didn´t here "donde eres", so he wasn´t asking me where I came from. I continued to look puzzled, "Yo no intiendo". Finally, he points to my shorts, and shakes his head. OK, I get it. I descend the stairs, exit the building. And now I was determined to get into this club. I head back to the hotel.
I pull the Guatemalan trousers I purchased in San Juan del Sur from my pack. I change the laces in my Converse Hi-Tops, wash them up a bit in the sink just outside my room, change into a sportier shirt, and head back to Da Club. I enter the lobby, Senor Bouncer is there, and before going up the stairs I look at him, open my arms and say "Esta bien?", he shakes his head OK, and up the stairs I go. I pay the pretty girl my cover, and ascend another set of stairs to be greeted by a young lady in a T-shirt with the la Salaba insignia (similar to las chicas at the clothing stores), who asks me "Crossover or Electronica". I reply "crossover". She escorts me past a lounge with a large video screen, to a double door, opens the door and lets me in. The music was kind of old & slow, and I could faintly hear a faster beat pumping nearby, so I turn and tell her "electronica". She escorts me to another set of silver double doors, opens them for me into a regular room, with a bluish glow, and about 8 metallic circular raised table islands distributed lengthwise, about 5 feet apart in the middle of the room, incribed with "Red Bull" along their stems, a bar at one end, a subwoofer located in the center of the room, and the DJ station located at the other end of the room. There were also modern sofas with what looked like large cow spot motifs, surrounding the floor/dance area. She asked me if I want anything to drink and I ordered water. It is probably about 11pm. I am the only person in the room. She brings me my water, 4000 pesos (by the way, $1US = 2000 pesos). I give her $5000 (1000 peso tip), but she gives me back the 1000 peso bill. Well, it´s Saturday night, the music´s pumping, I have the dancefloor to myself, I´m in Cartagena, The Home of Cumbia, so - I dance! Either it was too early in the night, or the folk of Cartagena aren´t to keen on techno yet, but I danced by myself for a couple of hours. Overall, it seemed there were about 10 to 15 people in the room eventually, mainly standing around or sitting, holding drinks or cigarettes and chatting, by the time I left. The dancefloor was not that big.
I went to the "crossover" room. It was very crowded. Mainly couples. I didn´t feel appropriately dressed in this room (the Converse just weren´t kicking it in here). Many of the folks, especially the women, were dressed to kill. I found a seat to take in the vibe, until a waitress told me I had to buy a drink in order to sit on the couch, so I left.
Since I had already paid my cover at Diva, I went back there to see what it might look like 2 hours later. The guy at the door remembered me, and as I headed up the stairs, to my surprise, he called a lady just outside to accompany me (there were other scantily dressed women also). So we walked up the stairs, entered the "disco" that is not a disco but a bar, and inside, there were maybe 3 guys, one seated with a woman, another the bartender, and the other the DJ. Everyone else in the room, about 20 or so, were scantily dressed women. Nobody was dancing. The music was so loud how could anyone even hear themselves or the other speak? You have to understand that in all of these situations I get myself in, it is in a language that I speak very modestly. So I tell my long legged, minidress wearing escort "la musica is grande" (how´s that for Saturday night out on the town Spanish?), and she suggests we go out on the balcony that is separated from the main room by doors. So we go out there. Now, I´m being truthful here, I felt very awkward. I wasn´t interested in hiring an escort, and I couldn´t even deflect the situation with interesting conversation not being fluent in the language, so clumsily I explained to this young lady that I was leaving. I politely thanked her for her company - "Gracias por tu compania", and exited. The guy at the door tried to get me back up there. I should have demanded my money back. So, as I get away from this guy, and step away from Diva, the guy I spoke to earlier who told me about the Club la Salaba greets me, "Que pasa?". I tell him as best I can that I went to the Club La Salaba, and that I was headed to my hotel. Before he could respond, this little twitchy boy steps between us, waving dirty Colombian dollar bills, asking me for money. His shirt & shorts were too big and filthy. Some of his teeth, though not rotten, seemed broken. His face was clean. He kept waving these bills, then he would pull up his short to rub his belly saying he was hungry. There was no pity in his eyes or in his personality. He was quite matter of fact in his presentation: i have the twitches, i am dirty, hungry, poor and asking you for money. I even remember him saying a few english words. Perhaps he was 7 or 8. So he says, instead of money, buy me some food, "yo tengo hambre". So I ask him what he wants, and he points to a chickent fast food restaurant just across the square. So we walk there. I asked him about his parents. He said they live in the street. Apparently, he knew the employees at the restaurant & they knew him. When they saw us, did I see pity in their eyes? Or anger? Or both? He pointed to the pictures on the menu, and I ordered something for him including lemonade. I told him to wash his hands, so quick as a whistle, he was through the door (we ordered outside), coming out a few minutes later with wet, cleaner hands. I paid for his order and I left him at the table to eat. I headed back to my hotel, but then decided to turn around to check on him. He had already gone. The guy at the restaurant pointed in a direction in the center of the square and I found him again. I asked him if he had eaten already "Comes ya?", and he said he shared it with his friend. He asked me for money to sleep. For some reason, I declined to give it to him. Twitching, he thanked me for the food. Did he smile slightly? We looked each other long in the eyes. His asked for no pity. And mine didn't cry.
Yesterday i checked out of the Hotel Familiar in the Getsamani District & am now residing at the Hotel de Viajero in Centro (i think it´s also referred to as downtown or Old Town). Michael, Ryan & i had been sharing a room at the Hotel Familiar since Thursday evening. Michael´s Lonely Planet guidebook suggested lodging in other barrios of the city. The barrios around here are Centro (The Old City), Matuna, San Diego, Cabrero, Getsamani & Manga. Regrettably, i didn´t get to say ¡Buen Viaje! to them in person. They had left early in the morning & by noon hadn´t returned, but i was able to leave them a note.
After checking into the Hotel de Viajero, i went in search of comida. Exited the hotel took a right, and then took another right at the corner. The streets here are narrow, extant since the days of the horse & carriage. I walked up this street, avoiding the taxis as i oftentimes had to step off the sidewalk to allow oncoming pedestrians to pass. This street was lined with various shops, many, clothing shops. I entered an art supply store, & purchased replacement lead for my mechanical pencil & some rubber bands (i wrap them around my clothes for a more compact fit inside my backpack). I had previously made a mental note to purchase a second pair of walking shorts, and so, went in search of these. Most of the clothing shops stocked inexpensive "modern" youth gear, multicolored spaghetti strap tops & tight jeans for las chicas, polos, khaki & bermuda shorts, "designer" T-shirts for the guys. After i walked in (& i discovered later this is common in these types of shops), i was greeted by a friendly, smiling young lady in a T-shirt with the stores insigna on the front, who asked me what i was looking for, and made every to help me find some shorts. Overhead, pop music was pumping, and many of the other young ladies employed there were singing & dancing to the music! I tried on a pair of shorts, but they were not to my liking. I seemed to be getting a lot of attention from the other girls. I think perhaps they were surprised to discover i was not Colombiano or even Panamanian when they heard me struggling to speak Spanish. I told the very helpful young lady I would continue up the street to look around, and if I didn´t find anything, I would return later. She said OK, she would wait for me!
I exited the store, headed up the street, noticed a guy selling bolsitas of sliced mango, bought one, ate, then discovered another clothing store across the street. This was a huge discount clothier (reminded me of Kmart). Mostly ropas por las chicas. Didn´t see anything that caught my attention, and headed down the street. Passed another store. This store had a DJ in the front pumping pop tunes out of a large boom box. Here too, I was greeted by a salesclerk, a yound lady in a skyblue T-shirt, who asked me if I needed help, and what was I looking for. Here also, many of the salesclerks were singing & dancing to the music. Eventually, I did find a pair of shorts to my satisfaction, and a shirt. I paid, thanked the young lady for her kind assistance (and later in the day wondered if I was supposed to give her a tip - seems like it´s like that here - more about that later). The belt that I have been wearing was a bit worn before I began this trip, and as I headed back to the hotel, I passed a young man selling belts on the sidewalk. I bought one, dropped my purchases off at the hotel, and resumed my quest por la comida.
Exited right from the hotel, but this time, instead of turning right at the corner, i turned left. Walked down a few blocks, to my left looked interesting, and I walked into a plaza, Plaza Santo Domingo, covered with tables under umbrellas imprinted with "Cafe De Colombia". Surrounding the plaza were small restaurant fronts, the Museum of Modern Art, the Embajada de Colombia (Colombian Embassy), and the sculpture Mujer Reclinada ("Reclining Woman"), by artist Fernando Botero.
I found a chair, a waitress brought me a menu featuring Italian cuisine, much of which I didn´t understand. Reggae music was booming at a reasonable level from a restaurant booth near to mine. I inquired about a salad on the menu, heared the words "lechuga" (lettuce), tomato, queso (cheese), and her recommendation of it being very good and ordered it. While I waited, various street vendors came by my table (& others), offering their wares - bracelets, watches, Cuban cigars, soccer shirts, drawings, T-shirts, CD´s, DVD's. Sometimes one vender would stand in line behind another just waiting to make his pitch. Some don´t wait.
The salad arrived. Six large squares of (mozzarrella?) cheese, each covered with a large slice of tomato, basil leaves, and the plate sprinkled with shredded basil. Included French bread, and lemonade ("limonada" is quite common here at most of the eateries, and is quite good, made from freshly squeezed lemons). I wasn´t expecting so much cheese, but I enjoyed the salad anyway. While eating, a well dressed "gentleman" of 31, handed me a business card, and politely invited me to visit his shop of "handmade" Colombian art. He hung around for a while & we chatted. I finished my meal, paid la camarera, and as I rose to leave, the art guy was back, gently insisting that I visit his shop about 10 steps to the left of my table.
The "handmade" Colombian art was a jewelry shop specializing in emerald jewelry. He escorts me into the shop of mirrors & glass & shininess. The door closes. Just to the rear behind the display case a small group is huddled. From the group emerged a perhaps 50-something, bespectacled, moderately heavy set man, with a big belly, in a dark, pressed, short sleeved shirt. He had a, but respectable command of english (apparently he had already been briefed by the other guy), gives me a quick discription of the Colombian emerald business, and tells me that since I am in Colombia you "must" purchase an emerald (he said it, politely, with passion, like it was some unspoken commandment) to take home as a souvenir. He shows me a few of the pendants and earrings, all the while continuing a steady stream of dialogue describing their preciousness. I countered, politely, that I was not a rich man, just a humble traveler, on a meager budget, carrying a small backback, trying to make his way to Carnaval in Brazil. He said something like "Yes, of course, but if you should ever change your mind please come back and visit us". I exited the store with a smile, and my usual "Gracias. Tiene un buen dia."And waiting for me just outside the door was the other guy, now trying to give me a (subtle) pitch about visiting las Islas del Rosario in the morning. There was a guy standing next to him with some kind of a form apparently having to do with this, but I kindly declined, and told him I would think about it (I must have told him the hotel I was staying in because at 7am this morning I got a call in my room, and it was the same guy, reminding that the boat was leaving soon for del Rosario).
After disintangling myself from this guy, i found myself walking alongside a young fellow, maybe 15, who had offered his bracelets to me while I waited for my tomato & cheese salad. So we walk around for awhile. He speaks a little English & sort of took on the roll of a guide, explaining to me this area of Cartagena. He says, disgustingly, that the people that live in this area are rich, that the restaraunt I just ate at, is way over priced, and continues to walk with me explaining to me the history of this part of Cartagena. This area is interesting in that, probably similar to what you see in many cities in Europe, the buildings and streets have existed for centuries. We turn down a street and run into another guy who was trying to sell me CD´s back while I waited for my salad. This guy was a riot. Hilarious. He could probably sell sand to the desert! Water to the ocean! Wings to birds! I would have loved to get this dude on video as he improvised one pitch after another about why I needed to by a CD from him.
I headed back the hotel, said farewell to the youngster, and returned to my room for a late nap.
My 1st Saturday Night in Cartagena
The way I figure it, in the land of cumbia, it is mandatory you go dancing your 1st Saturday night in Cartagena.
With my check in to this hotel, I was given a Cartagenas de Indias Pocket Map which listed a discoteca not too far away called Diva. So I put on my new threads, went and had dinner, and all excited, headed to Diva. After I thought I found it, I headed up the stairs (I´m wearing shorts), until a guy calls after me, (I noticed other people going up the steps too, a bit older than me, and dressed quite a bit more conservatively). So I stop, turn around, descend the stairs and ask the guy "Hay la discoteca Diva?", he looks at me with a frown, and says "no". Another man points to a spot further down the square (I didn´t mention this square, the Plaza de los Coches (Square of the Carriages) is crowded with people, a big nightlife spot) and I find a young guy sitting on a stool in front of the entrance to some stairs. I see the sign "Diva". H begins talking a mile a minute to me about "chicas bonitas", and says the cover is 10,000 pesos. I pay him, go up the stairs and enter. Turns out it´s just a bar. So I leave a bit disappointed. He implores me to come back later. I tell him I would. As I walk away, another guy starts talking to me about another club just on the other side of the building. As we walk there, I ask him if there is club that has a large..., i couldn´t think of the word, so I pointed at the ground. "Piso" he says. Yes, he says, the Club La Salaba has a large dancefloor. He gives me the wrong directions, says it´s located in a direction totally opposite from it´s actual location. So, after some walking around asking for directions, I find the Club La Salaba. Walk up the stairs all excited, the bouncer says something to me I don´t understand. I didn´t hear a number, so he wasn´t asking for a cover. And I didn´t here "donde eres", so he wasn´t asking me where I came from. I continued to look puzzled, "Yo no intiendo". Finally, he points to my shorts, and shakes his head. OK, I get it. I descend the stairs, exit the building. And now I was determined to get into this club. I head back to the hotel.
I pull the Guatemalan trousers I purchased in San Juan del Sur from my pack. I change the laces in my Converse Hi-Tops, wash them up a bit in the sink just outside my room, change into a sportier shirt, and head back to Da Club. I enter the lobby, Senor Bouncer is there, and before going up the stairs I look at him, open my arms and say "Esta bien?", he shakes his head OK, and up the stairs I go. I pay the pretty girl my cover, and ascend another set of stairs to be greeted by a young lady in a T-shirt with the la Salaba insignia (similar to las chicas at the clothing stores), who asks me "Crossover or Electronica". I reply "crossover". She escorts me past a lounge with a large video screen, to a double door, opens the door and lets me in. The music was kind of old & slow, and I could faintly hear a faster beat pumping nearby, so I turn and tell her "electronica". She escorts me to another set of silver double doors, opens them for me into a regular room, with a bluish glow, and about 8 metallic circular raised table islands distributed lengthwise, about 5 feet apart in the middle of the room, incribed with "Red Bull" along their stems, a bar at one end, a subwoofer located in the center of the room, and the DJ station located at the other end of the room. There were also modern sofas with what looked like large cow spot motifs, surrounding the floor/dance area. She asked me if I want anything to drink and I ordered water. It is probably about 11pm. I am the only person in the room. She brings me my water, 4000 pesos (by the way, $1US = 2000 pesos). I give her $5000 (1000 peso tip), but she gives me back the 1000 peso bill. Well, it´s Saturday night, the music´s pumping, I have the dancefloor to myself, I´m in Cartagena, The Home of Cumbia, so - I dance! Either it was too early in the night, or the folk of Cartagena aren´t to keen on techno yet, but I danced by myself for a couple of hours. Overall, it seemed there were about 10 to 15 people in the room eventually, mainly standing around or sitting, holding drinks or cigarettes and chatting, by the time I left. The dancefloor was not that big.
I went to the "crossover" room. It was very crowded. Mainly couples. I didn´t feel appropriately dressed in this room (the Converse just weren´t kicking it in here). Many of the folks, especially the women, were dressed to kill. I found a seat to take in the vibe, until a waitress told me I had to buy a drink in order to sit on the couch, so I left.
Since I had already paid my cover at Diva, I went back there to see what it might look like 2 hours later. The guy at the door remembered me, and as I headed up the stairs, to my surprise, he called a lady just outside to accompany me (there were other scantily dressed women also). So we walked up the stairs, entered the "disco" that is not a disco but a bar, and inside, there were maybe 3 guys, one seated with a woman, another the bartender, and the other the DJ. Everyone else in the room, about 20 or so, were scantily dressed women. Nobody was dancing. The music was so loud how could anyone even hear themselves or the other speak? You have to understand that in all of these situations I get myself in, it is in a language that I speak very modestly. So I tell my long legged, minidress wearing escort "la musica is grande" (how´s that for Saturday night out on the town Spanish?), and she suggests we go out on the balcony that is separated from the main room by doors. So we go out there. Now, I´m being truthful here, I felt very awkward. I wasn´t interested in hiring an escort, and I couldn´t even deflect the situation with interesting conversation not being fluent in the language, so clumsily I explained to this young lady that I was leaving. I politely thanked her for her company - "Gracias por tu compania", and exited. The guy at the door tried to get me back up there. I should have demanded my money back. So, as I get away from this guy, and step away from Diva, the guy I spoke to earlier who told me about the Club la Salaba greets me, "Que pasa?". I tell him as best I can that I went to the Club La Salaba, and that I was headed to my hotel. Before he could respond, this little twitchy boy steps between us, waving dirty Colombian dollar bills, asking me for money. His shirt & shorts were too big and filthy. Some of his teeth, though not rotten, seemed broken. His face was clean. He kept waving these bills, then he would pull up his short to rub his belly saying he was hungry. There was no pity in his eyes or in his personality. He was quite matter of fact in his presentation: i have the twitches, i am dirty, hungry, poor and asking you for money. I even remember him saying a few english words. Perhaps he was 7 or 8. So he says, instead of money, buy me some food, "yo tengo hambre". So I ask him what he wants, and he points to a chickent fast food restaurant just across the square. So we walk there. I asked him about his parents. He said they live in the street. Apparently, he knew the employees at the restaurant & they knew him. When they saw us, did I see pity in their eyes? Or anger? Or both? He pointed to the pictures on the menu, and I ordered something for him including lemonade. I told him to wash his hands, so quick as a whistle, he was through the door (we ordered outside), coming out a few minutes later with wet, cleaner hands. I paid for his order and I left him at the table to eat. I headed back to my hotel, but then decided to turn around to check on him. He had already gone. The guy at the restaurant pointed in a direction in the center of the square and I found him again. I asked him if he had eaten already "Comes ya?", and he said he shared it with his friend. He asked me for money to sleep. For some reason, I declined to give it to him. Twitching, he thanked me for the food. Did he smile slightly? We looked each other long in the eyes. His asked for no pity. And mine didn't cry.
