Hola from Cartagena. We arrived in Cartagena via Panama on Wednesday. P.S. Panama by far has the world’s most boring airport. However, if you love Lacoste, bad American chocolate, and are in dire need of electronics then that airport is for usted. So after a lengthy layover in Panama, I was thrilled to arrive in Cartagena. Yet I can’t help but think that Colombian customs wasn’t as happy to see me. I knew I’d get profiled because I look Colombian (I was told by Colombian friends they might think I was a rich girl from Cali or Bogotoa). While H breezed through customs, I on the other hand got repeatedly asked questions in Spanish, despite me repeatedly telling 3 different customs agents that I don’t speak Spanish that well (I honestly got the feeling they thought I might’ve been lying). They asked where I was staying, if I had friends in Carta, how much money I was bringing into Colombia, and I was even asked why I was there. Nothing says “bienvenido a Cartagena” like “why are you here?,” but I couldn’t exactly say “don’t worry, I’m not here for the llello!”

Despite my initial greeting at the airport, I fell in love with Cartagena almost as soon as I arrived even though it was humid, muggy and lightly raining. What can I say about this city, but that I’m utterly captivated by it. We are staying in el Barrio San Diego, which is in the old town. It’s a colonial townhouse that has turned into a chic, intimate hotel. The old town of Cartagena reminds me of an upscale New Orleans, i.e., great french quarter like architecture, minus the tacky tourists places and the Mardi Gras mentality. There’s a great vibe here. It’s a rhythmic town. Music is frequently streaming from restaurants and people’s homes (right now I can hear some Cuban music from someone’s place down the street) and when you can’t hear music, you can hear the sound of the horses hooves clip clopping down the cobbled stone streets as the horse drawn carriages pass by.

It is so relaxing here that I find myself picturing myself living an ex-pat’s life. There is something that really draws me to South America. I have often said that if I ever go on the lam, that this gringa is heading to South America where my American dollars go far, the people are beautiful, and they know how to enjoy la vida. Carta and Buenos Aires are top contenders. Before last night I would’ve said BA had it in the bag, but considering that I had the best steak of ma vida last night at Cafe San Pedro and that these people REALLY know how to make a mean mojito, I might have to reconsider (even if los hombres are mas guapo in BA). Oh and did I mention that Aguila beer is my new favorite…not only is it a mere 75 cents a bottle, but it is muy delicioso. I discovered this when we went to our “local” bar and watched Real Cartagena, the local football team, win 3 nil. We thought that was a good thing, but apparently someone at the bar wasn’t happy because when they scored a goal one guy grabbed an umbrella and charged the tv as if he were going to attack it and called the tv a “puta.” Um, ok. He saw me laugh and then he high fived me. Thank God I didn’t cheer when Real Carta scored as that would NOT have endeared me to the patrons.

H and I have allocated our responsibilities…basically she is in charge of navigation and I’m in charge of communication. I’m amazed at how far my 4 semesters of spanish at Baruch has gotten us. Our hotel staff only speaks spanish, which has at times been very comical as there can be minor misunderstandings, i.e., H asked them to do some laundry in cold water and someone brought her a bottle of cold water. I translated what the miscommunication was all about and we all had a laugh. However, all in all, everything is going well.

More on how I met a French guy from Bordeaux and, um, actually had a “date” with him the next day…how I bonded with these tweens on a Chiva bus (tourist bus) and became the 8th Grade Classes “Mascot” and how I wound up at a bar filled with prostitutes (who knew Cafe Habana was so popular with the working “ladies?”), but as for right now, I’m headed to take another dip in the pool.

Ciao,

Shakira