People Watching

Perhaps the greatest thing about where I’m staying is that it allows me to engage in my favorite past time. Well, yeah, eating is my favorite too, and this place is great for that, but that’s not what I’m talking about. Exercise, well, yeah it would probably be cool for that too. I could run around these parks a million times and I don’t think they’d ever get old. Can’t say that I’d be terribly eager to run on the street here because that would mean I’d have to be made hyperaware of the traffic, since things like stopping at stop signs seem to be optional. But no matter where I’m at, be it a crowded street, a busy airport, or standing at the door to the sanctuary, I can always be thoroughly entertained by the people watching. There’s never a shortage of interesting things to see in this world, but perhaps people are the most entertaining. Whether they are just doing ordinary, mundane things, or if they are congregating and carrying on with one another, there’s never a shortage of observations to be made.

This place is absolutely wonderful for this pastime. Not only am I in extra-heightened-soak-in-everything mode since I’m in a foreign place, but there’s also the whole idea that language (both verbal and non-verbal) issues come into play as do cultural differences. For instance, in Oakland, I might walk in and out of an establishment (restaurant, store, school, whatever) and a security guard probably won’t even acknowledge my presence with a nod, much less a hello or good afternoon. Quite to the contrary, every single security guard, concierge at the hotel, hostess, taxi driver, street vendor or otherwise here in Bogota gives you a buenas tardes if you’re within earshot. At each stop light during the never-ending traffic (okay, it is pretty easy to get around after 9pm…), I’m delighted by street performers, people selling dulces, cacahuates y aguacates. The other day, I saw this bare chested kid (and its not warm here right now)put on a bike helmet, and throw himself into the longest continual breakdancing headspin that I may have ever seen. Luckily, I actually had some change on me that time and rolled down the window so he could come by for his donation at the end of his show all prior to the light turned green. He put a little more on it, acting like he was terribly dizzy and disoriented to give it the vaudevillian flair, upon his dismount,and then he took a bow. At another light, I paid close attention as the team of dulce vendors worked in tandem. Going down the rows of stopped cars, the first guy went by and placed a little bag of what looked like candied peanuts on the mirror or partially opened window of each car. There was a girl that followed behind him that collected the goods, almost just as soon as he had placed them on each vehicle. Another girl, followed behind the first, collecting money from any of the drivers who had collected the bags from the window sills or mirrors and taken them into their car. Also at many of the major intersections, there’s always the Ejercitos (Colombian National Army) standing there with their camouflage and some very imposing weapon. Almost without fail, they have their hands in a “ready to shoot” position whether they’re holding an M-16 or shotgun, wearing a cap or their very impressive looking silver helmets. These cats are way more intense than your average beat cop and given their daily mission in the city here, must be quite accomplished people watchers, their stakes a bit higher than a casual observer like myself.

The king of all the people watching spots that I’ve seen here so far has been the restaurant Salteado de Angel (also check for this one in the next Destinations . How do you like my shameless self promotion? I prefer to think of it as a no frills commercial). I don’t mean to keep raving about this place, but “Salto” has the corner on the Southeastern corner of Parque de la 93. Apparently, this is the SPOT. I went there because I liked the way it looked when we drove by one day and told mis companeros that that was where we were going tonight. It looked every bit as nice as any restaurant I’ve ever been to in San Francisco or otherwise, with its huge windows, dim lights and eclectic selection of furniture. The food and wine list were great as well (I’m really not trying to give up the goods here. Check it in Destinations) and the bathroom…Wow! The hostess, yet another bonafide head-turner, by the way, showed us to a table, but spying a corner table with two big windows from which to take in el Parque, I asked that we be seated there. She complied and the people watching was on. Boy was it! On Friday and Saturday night this is a dancing spot, but I guess Sunday night is date night. The Colombian people that I have seen, especially in the types of spots I’ve been frequenting, have been very striking, so it was not surprising that this place was no different. You almost hope for an average looking couple just to prove that there is such a thing here. No, not really, I just put that in here for levity.

However, after awhile, mis companeros y yo started to notice a trend with the comings and goings here. Perhaps there was something a tad dubious about them. Sure, it’s not out of the ordinary to see a young lady with an older man, but there were way too many instances. Perhaps this is the “under” spot for the chicks-on-the-side. Naw, that doesn’t even seem logical. If you were trying to hide, you wouldn’t go to this place with all of its big windows and prime viewing of el Parque. We were having a good time with this analysis and the Los Vascos Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon was making our observations and laughter a little more audible to the rest of the room, but we didn’t really care. Then, like data points in an oft repeated lab experiment, we keyed in on the more subtle nuances of these pairings. The older guys weren’t all that dashing like the Colombian guys, nor were they very Colombian. In fact, some of these cats were downright square, and very definitely European or American businessmen. When they started showing up with more than one very attractive Colombian woman, we had reached our conclusion. Sunday night is ESCORT night!

Stiff, European businessman type with a 19 year old Colombiana on his arm. “ESCORT!” we exclaimed and then heartily laughed. Two European guys walking uncomfortably as if somebody were watching them (nobody but us) as they tried to be inconspicuous, with 2 Colombianas half their age? “ESCORTS!” Another guy, another lovely young girl? “ESCORT!” Older Latino lookin’ guy with a young girl? “Hmmm..Escort o su hija?” This would take some further investigating. She was playing him a little close when they sat at the table near ours. “ESCORT!” Meanwhile, we were treated to watching the hostess walk by to seat these people each time they came in. I don’t gather that the hostess position is easy to come by in this town by anybody that doesn’t cause guys seated at corner tables to watch them come and go. Four chicas coming in here to dine? Remember, our corner table had two large windows so we could see folks walking from across el Parque and also getting out of “amarillas” (taxis), and then we could watch them walk all the way up the ramp to the front door. “Noche de las mujeres?”was one suggestion offered up before the judges ruling could be confirmed. This one took awhile, we’d have to revisit it. From across el Parque, past the fountain and the flowers, emerged two Colombianas y un gringo? “Hmmm…Escort? Si! Ella es nervioso y se trajo su amiga…ESCORT!” We could’ve done this for hours. Don’t sound surprised, you know I’m easily amused by now.