After my last blog entry, a friend insisted that I visit Colombiancupid.com (a site that she “researched” before we headed off to Cartagena). I miss my UN diplomatic dating style of yore, so I decided to throw caution to the wind and logged on in the hopes of finding my media naranja (which for all you out there stuck in gringo land roughly translates into my other half, it’s a slang expression that’s all the rage in the Spanish speaking mundo).

Aye dios mio!  After reading some ads, I’m convinced I have a better chance of having a foreign affair at the International House of Pancakes or by way of celebrating the moments of my life with an international house coffee moment! I couldn’t help escape the feeling that I was dealing with some sort of illegal mail order bride scheme.  Take for instance Tony, who btw is “fond of Mexican food,” and prefers that his lady have “some spoken English.” I agree Tony, it helps if you both know the same language, it takes two to tango there papi.  My guess is the only Spanish Tony knows is chalupa.  The mail order bride feeling was further solidified when I noticed that they have English to Spanish translation software.  Proceed with caution amigos, things get lost in translation.  Just ask my Chilean friend Fernando, who wants “a sincere woman, that like him to do the sport, to have children and to do well together.”  WHAT does that even mean?

I was particularly unsettled by the fact that Jesus who is 41 and from Texas, not to be confused with Jesus 33 from Israel, is looking to marry someone young enough to be his daughter as he’s only interested in ladies who are 20-35.  And FYI, “Magic,” also a Texan, is “just as comfortable in shorts at the beach as in a tux at a formal.”  Really Magic?  Because I know that I’m sure as hell not as comfortable in a ball gown as I am in beachwear!   I mean does anyone in the movies ever say “let me slip into something more comfortable,” and don a tux?

29 year old Nicholas from Colombia (South Carolina that is), thinks he’s “very attractive” and is in search of a woman who is “good looking, hard working, and a giver.”  Can I get an amen from the ladies that it’s music to our ears when a man specifies that he wants a “giver”?  Reading between the lines here, Nico is looking for a maid or a sugar mamita who can afford one.

I suppose it’s not much of a shocker that the authentic and uber caliente Colombians live in Miami or nowheresville, FL.  The best looking one was 34 year old Juan from Miami who wants to date anything from a fetus (18…hola can someone say barely legal) to someone more age appropriate (37).   I’m tempted to ask What Would Jesus do in this situation, but I think we know (see Dallas Jesus above). Anyway, Juan is hot enough that I may be willing to overlook his potential pedophilia like tendencies. 

Perhaps my favorite posting was from Len in LA who writes, “Am I musical you ask? I can move a little bit. All my tan skinned friends steal my sh&t on the dance floor…it used to make me a little loco.”  Um, borderline racist profile!  And please no profanity, Juanes!

As of now, my best hope for global love is “Kenneth” my hot sounding and funny South African travel agent who I might use to book part of my SA trip.  I love him because he’s a straight shooting bloke who tells me what’s bollocks and what’s not.  Sorry Nico, but that’s the kinda man I like, one who takes care of ME, but at the same time doesn’t blow smoke u know where!  Seriously, the only smoke I want to see is the smoke billowing up from Victoria Falls.  Kenneth’s office is only two blocks away from mine so I might have to have an in-office consultation to discuss details.  He did suggest that I might enjoy having cocktails.  Ok, he said it in reference to the rest period on safari, but that’s a minor detail.

Maybe I will meet my international man of mystery in South Africa and be swept off my feet by his bastardized, yet irresistibly cute accent!  But seeing as how it has the highest HIV rate in the world, I think the only thing this Sheila will be kissing is my safari guide’s butt so as to ensure I don’t get eaten by a Lion.

Until then, I plan on doing my own “research” by going to rugby and cricket matches (btw, am I the only one who finds it extremely annoying that we’re the only former colony where those sports and high tea never caught on)?

I met several wonderful people in Carta, but there are three honorable mentions for my fav Colombos:

Mi hermanita:

A/k/a Erica, the girl I met on the chiva and with whom I’ve been emailing.  To be honest, online translators have become my BFFs. It’s one thing to do the whole “como estas” business or whip out the restaurant Spanish on occasion, but it’s quite another to write in Spanish.  Tonight I had to phone a friend with E’s latest email to make sure I understood it. And other than thinking that she was telling me her favorite holiday was Christmas when in fact she was wishing me a Merry Christmas, I did a pretty good job (sans online translator muchas gracias).

Mi Abuelita:

One night we were at a bar sipping cocktails when passengers from a “Chiva rhumba” stormed the bar (essentially a night time party bus that serves free cuba libres and drops chiva riders off at a bar after it’s done.  My abuelita arrived on the scene, maracas in hand, and she danced the night away.  She was la vida de le fiesta.  We took pictures with her. She gave me here number and was like “llamarme, I’ll take you dancing.”  Who doesn’t love an abuela who invites norte americanas to go dancing? Sadly, an old guy was trying to get abuelita’s attention by dancing behind her, but abuelita got “blocked” by some young puta who made the moves on abuelo. (Please note I am refraining from using my extensive knowledge of Spanish swearwords to call abuelo names).  However, my abuelita was too good for any man that is going to cough up pesos for a common street walker!  Shame on you abuelo!

Mini-Mi:

While waiting for our fantasy island boat to depart to Isla del Rosarios and Playa Blanca, this 7 year old nina captivated us.  She was rocking an all pink outfit complete with sunglasses, hat, and flower earings. My girl knows how to accessorize!  I wish I had video of her striking her vogue poses all over the place and flashing her toothless smile (my guess is that the tooth fairy has made at least two stops at su casa).  She was chatting up everybody and she was also on her mamita’s cell a lot-kid was taking more calls in an hour than I take all week. She’s destined to be class President and Prom queen (but in a good way).

Although her real name is Stefania, we nicknamed her Punky.  H later called her my mini-me.  Two of my favorite things she did was to chat up this cute teenager…she was all over him! My chica was’t giving the little boys her age the time of day!  Atta girl Punky. Punky also sat across the from me and she kept leaning on me to see things and she started talking to me and so I had to give my Spanish disclaimer of “listen kid, I speak English. You know what her reply was? “I know English.”  I said, “you do?”  She said,”si, 5, 6,7,8.”  No clue what happened to 1-4, but maybe she was fielding calls on her cellie when Dora the Explorer was covering 1-4.  I have a picture with Punky. Couldn’t leave Colombo without it.