Bogotanos

I used to think that New Yorkers took first place in terms of their unhealthy knack for running in stilettos, dodging puddles and inexplicable holes in the ground, refusing to be slowed by the masses or distracted by the craziness happening all around them, and then effortlessly hopping onto a cramped form of public transportation where they will apply mascara, coddle their baby, and send a text message (and look good while doing it) all at the same time. But then I came to Bogota. Sorry New York, you have been demoted to second place by me. Well, not by me, but by Bogota, according to me. I know it’s a big blow to your image, but hopefully by the end of this post, you will understand why I have come to this conclusion.

I had always heard that Colombian women were beautiful. It’s not that I didn’t believe this rumor, but I just assumed it had to do with their accent and dancing ability, and a certain famous Colombian pop star whose hips apparently don’t lie. But now that I have actually been to Colombia, I know this rumor to be more than just a stereotype, but rather a god given truth. The women here are obviously very beautiful as is, but they also are very well dressed and make a point of looking their best, as evidenced by the insane number of malls and beauty salons all over the city. (And hey, when you can get a manicure for 2 bucks, why wouldn’t you?) After a meal, or a movie, or while riding on the bus it is not uncommon to see a woman carefully retouching her makeup, although she already looked absolutely immaculate.

Before coming here, we were warned that Colombian men were all very ugly. “So good luck finding a man” these warnings seemed to say. It’s not that they’re really ugly, but it’s hard to look all that great when standing in a crowd of all these stunning women. When compared to American men, they are also generally fairly short. And they all look very similar. Obviously this may very well be the case for the women here as well (which explains why Kate is endlessly admired here). Among younger stylish men, it also seems to be a trend to spend a lot of time on achieving the perfect asymmetrical funky hairdo. These hairdos require a lot of attitude, hair gel, and at least one hair dryer. Which is not altogether something I look for in a man.

Either way, everyone in this city seems to make an effort to look pretty awesome. And everyone generally achieves this goal. It should also be pointed out that I have seen one, mayyyybe two people that I miiiight consider to be overweight. And that’s it. This has not been my experience in New York, or any American city. Even Boulder, let’s be honest.

Now, the sidewalks in Bogota are only sometimes sidewalks. Sometimes they are muddy swamps. Sometimes they look like they were ravaged by an earthquake. Sometimes they are slanted at a 45 degree angle, like a really steep driveway. Sometimes they are brick. Sometimes they have giant open man holes right in the middle of them without warning. Sometimes they are under construction. Sometimes they are a nasty combination of all of these. This made me regret not bringing high-topped hiking boots. This also made me gawk in disgust and admiration when I saw that the women here are more often than not wearing stilettos. Stilettos! I can’t even wear stilettos when walking down the pristine sidewalks of Denver. So what did I do? I compromised, of course. I bought a pair of high-topped slouched wedge boots. However, when I wear them, my non-Colombianness is clear. I can not sprint over the earthquake-ravaged, puddle-filled side walks, and then leap onto a moving bus. Instead I look like my mother as she descends from a mountain; eyes on the ground carefully trying to find the best footing possible, being careful not to sprain an ankle or blow out a knee.* This probably detracts from the cuteness of the boots and highlights my non-Colombian status rather than the desired effect of trying to look more Colombian. Ah well.

*Note: unfortunately, this is also what I look like when on the descent of a hike. Thanks Mom and Dad for great knees and ankles.

My sister is a huge planning geek. Yes, planning. As in Urban Planning. She is getting her masters in this interesting field. So she was thrilled to here all about the “awesome” public transportation system in Bogota, known as the Transmilenio. While the Transmilenio is not all that great (at least for my purposes), it does have its good qualities. My sister will be visiting in a week and 3 days (!!!!!!!!), and I am eager to see what she thinks of her beloved Transmilenio. Despite its glaring flaws, she will surely still be enthusiastic and impressed by it. And then she’ll probably write a paper about it. (These are just a FEW reasons why I love love love my sister and think she is the coolest). Anyway, my favorite Public Transportation System in Bogota is not the Transmilenio, as you may have guessed, but the Colectivos. The Colectivos are not so much a Public Transportation system, but a hilarioiusly awesome hit-or-miss carpool “system.” The Transmilenio costs $1,700 COP a ride and a Colectivo ride costs $1,400 COP (which is about a 16 cent savings).

A Colectivo is a bus or a little bus or a really really little bus in some cases that has a specific route that it follows. You can get on or off this bus anywhere along the route by waving it down, or by pushing the button signaling to get off. There are no specific stops which makes it a convenient door to door type situation, but it also makes for a very choppy and jerky ride. The buses are already old and crappy (for a lack of a better word), and manual. Combine this with stop and go traffic, and sporadic pick ups and drop offs, and you have yourself a wild ride. When you get on you have to put your bus fare in the little hole in the divider that separates the driver, from the rest of the bus, and wait for your change. The driver operates the bus and plays banker all at the same time – adding to the thrill. The Colectivos are generally jam-packed, especially during peak hours (which are hard to predict), so often times you don’t get a seat right away, and you are forced to stand. Many of the buses are so small that while standing even I (at a towering 5’5”) have to crouch or tilt my neck to one side. This is a picture of the smallest Colectivo that I’ve been on. Anyone taller than 4’10” would have had to adjust their height to accommodate the lower than low ceiling on this thing. Luckily we got to sit for this ride.

One really great thing about Colombian men is that if there is a free seat on a Colectivo they will almost always offer it to a woman. I am in favor of this sort of chivalry, especially when I’m wearing my high-topped wedge boots and hanging on for dear life in a speeding micro-van. While seated, women are free to apply their makeup, something I would not dare do ever. Never ever. You’d have to be crazy to do that. My general rule while on a Colectivo is this: keep pointy objects away from my eyes at all times and keep hands free to grab on to anything in case we grind to a halt, like NOW. But Colombian women apply mascara and curl their eyelashes on Colectivos as if it were the easiest non-risky thing they could be doing. And maybe it is. I don’t know. But for me, it’s pretty freaking risky. I’m still trying to figure out how to walk here. For now, I’ll leave mascara application to an empty and stationary room with a mirror.

Perhaps the most interesting phenomenon of the Colectivos is that occassionally people get on the bus for free and ask for money. Sometimes they are just begging for money, asking for everyone’s attention and explaining their situation. Or sometimes they are selling things (like stickers or lolipops) in exchange for whatever you can give or sometimes they’ll perform for your spare change. I’ve seen a guy playing the recorder, a guy playing the guitar, a girl playing the violin, and the best performance was a freestyle rap performed by two young brothers that was tailored to the people on the bus. It was pretty good. It’s an ingenious plan. No one on the bus can say that they don’t have cash or coins on them because you have to have some to get on the bus, and most people will have some change from paying for the bus ride. And as most of these people will point out, we can afford to give them 600 pesos so that they can afford to eat.

Although the Colectivo’s have a lot going against them, and they would probably fail a proper road safety test, I love them. I have also determined that in terms of general safety (like getting robbed or kidnapped), Colectivos are the safest form of transportation in the city. Kate hates them, and I can understand why. But for some reason, I find they are full of character, and when I’m riding in one I feel I am doing as the Colombians do, which feels good. Especially since they are the new world champions of being awesome city folk.