Milo, Rice and a Can of Beans

I've discovered that earning a Colombian salary while paying American bills requires a bit more budgeting and planning than previously anticipated. To prove this point, I will disclose the contents of my pantry: Half a can of Milo, half a bag of rice, a (full) can of Antioquian beans, one egg, three sticks of Colombian hot chocolate, a bottle of soy sauce, a bottle of hot sauce, a packet of cumin, three cloves of garlic and a salt shaker. (Thankfully, my mother left me a 250-tablet bottle of vitamins to get me through this period of inadequate nutrition). Now I will disclose the contents of my wallet: COL $1,700 (Approximately US $0.85). I feel more Colombian already.

So it seems I will have to take a temporarily sojourn from visiting cafes, buying obleas, taking taxis or doing anything else that requires capital. But I chose this life and other than my recently readjusted economic situation, I’m feeling very upbeat and positive about my new Colombian life. And I am thinner than I've been in a long time.

Till We Meet Again, My Love.

I have given up diet coke.

Those of you who know me may find this hard to believe because my consumption of this unhealthy yet refreshing drink was bordering on incurable addiction, but I am writing the truth. I did the math and it turns out that more than 5% of my meager monthly income was going toward this much beloved but ultimately unaffordable carbonated drink.

It’s been hard but I will persevere in my new carbonation-less life, although I've had to make some lifestyle changes to cope with this hardship. In my old life, if I felt stressed or anxious, I simply drank some ice-cold diet coke and all my worries temporarily disappeared. Now, if I feel stressed or anxious I walk around, usually in my sweatpants, glasses and a grandpa sweater, so that I am probably known in my neighborhood as the hoboess of La 19. However, I've found that I need to walk at least 25 city blocks to achieve the same calming effect as one bottle of diet coke. And I usually drank the equivalent of about two or three 20-ounce bottles. This new stress reduction technique has resulted in a five pound weight loss in a one week period. By the time I reach my one month sobriety anniversary, I may be skeletal.

Anger

Went to my "office" cafe earlier this morning to get some work done and much to my anger and dismay, it was full of people! Even my private area was full of college students studying, flirting, talking loudly, and being in no way condusive to me getting my work done. And the so-called quiet relaxing music transformed into blaring "Salsa and Merengue, Greatest hits..."

However, it's true -- even those with normal lives (who don't have as much time on their hands as me) deserve a break and its not as if it's actually my personal office.  Will now have to look for quieter weekend cafe or give up work on weekends all together...

Bogota Street Life

Like any major city worth mentioning, Bogota has an active and entertaining street life (and I don't mean the pay-by-the-hour illicit type, although there's plenty of that as well, if you're interested). You can be perfectly entertained without entering a museum, paying for a concert or heading to a bar. In other words, if like me, you suffer from a seemingly permanent lack of capital, there's no need to panic.

It being my first weekend in my new apartment and neighborhood, I wanted to see what el centro was like on non-work nights, so I put on my sweater and scarf, and prepared myself to brave the cold, penetrating mountain winds that characterize Bogota evenings. Pretty much all the action in my neighborhood happens on La Septima, which was flooded with people eating hamburgers from hole-in-the wall stands, loitering and talking on every street corner and gathered around the dozens of street performers between La Calle 19 and the Internationall Center. There was a mix of university students, desplazados and poor people from the nearby shanty-towns, middle-class workers relaxing a bit before heading home, street vendors, elegant-looking old men wearing berets and suits whose social class and life story I coudn't quite define, skateboarders, punks, hippies and homeless people. Within an hour, I enjoyed a very intricate, excellently put together street circus, watched a group of children peform cumbia, listened to a soulful, talented Calena sing Celia Cruz's biggest hits and saw what appeared to be a hopelessly intoxicated, homeless man shake some water bottles filled with beads (pretending they were maracas) and attempt a very crude and unpleasant version of Guantanamera.

After enjoying my fair share of street theater and street concerts, I turned around and headed toward La Plaza de Bolivar. On my way south on La Septima, I heard a homeless old woman talking with a younger, also apparently homeless woman about the lack of profitability on her relegated street corner and how she was going to have to fight for a more lucrative corner because things just weren't going very well. I noticed that rather than stand attentively on guard in preparation of any disturbances, the police force in el centro seems to hang out together and congregate around the fried papa and yuca stands, especially if the cart's owner is a particularly young and attractive woman.  They are not particularly enthusiastic about being called to duty.

Anyway, generally speaking, every plaza in the center seems to be home to a flea market or handicraft market.  Considering the almost complete lack of tourists and the supposedly dire economic state of Colombians, I'm not exactly sure who is buying all these goods, but that's another story.  However, because Christmas is just around the corner, Christmas lights and decorations adorn every plaza and the handicraft and flea markets have been converted to Christmas markets. While not as charming and beautifully put together as those in Austria and Germany, these little Christmas markets really do highten the Christmas spirit, as long as you don't mind replacing warm pretzels and apple strudels with obleas and arepas de queso, forget mulled wine and accept aguapanela and convince yourself that the light sprinkling of litter is actually the season's first snow. Every plaza had a group of musicians, usually school children, and the churches, all dressed up in Christmas lights and angel decorations reminded me of the miniature Christmas village we -- well, my brother -- puts together every Christmas. There were many little streets I would have liked to go down, but as it was dark and I had no intention of testing Bogota night-time security, I decided to save these excursions for later.

MY NEW OFFICE

As I currently have no desk or chair in my room and don’t enjoy working from bed, I dedicated last Sunday to finding myself an office. As you know, I don’t technically need an office because I make most of my money freelancing, but it’s nice to pretend I need to be somewhere once in a while. (Plus, that way my roommates won’t think I’m an unemployed, antisocial American who spends all her time locked in her room).

Well, I’m happy to report that I’ve found myself an elegantly-appointed 15 x 15 office with excellent amenities and very attentive, hard-working employees in a most historic and prestigious sector just a few blocks from my apartment. And I don’t even have to pay any monthly fees, unless you count the coffees and teas I ask one of the empoyees to bring me every morning.

My office is called Café del Sol, and it is a rather atmospheric place, frequented by students university and government employees. There’s always calming -- if dated -- music playing softly in the background (think 1960s Latin pop, 1940s American jazz), and plenty of pastries and coffee drinks to choose from.

However, despite the romantic aspects of my new office, there are practical reasons for choosing Café del Sol. Upon entering the café, two small salons are visible. However, if one looks a little further, there is another, larger and dimmer salon that no one seems to know about. Naturally, I headed to the hidden salon because it has a three pronged outlet and I can spread myself out as if it were my actual office. In addition, there is free wifi, the Internet being essential to a canine cataracts writer/researcher such as myself.

So I’ve been going to work very happily every morning from 9am to 1pm, because a canine cataracts writer/researcher can afford shorter workdays. It’s taken me a long time, but I finally feel like I’m living my life exactly as I always envisioned it.