The People you Meet : Part 1

This will be one post of many detailing someone I met in hostels in Colombia and Venezuela. During my time there I wondered why I spent so much time agonizing over my destination, when the most influential factor of your trip is the people you meet.

Profile 1: J

I knew J for 2-3 weeks before I knew his name. When you meet 5+ new people everyday you eventually forget to introduce yourselves, or you hear them say their name but it never sticks in your mind. I never found out his last name, but maybe that is for the better.

J is an American expat living in Colombia on and off for the last 15-20 years, he has spent the last 7 years in Colombia (other than little trips).

His Colombian experience begins in Bogota, where he ran various small businesses and managed his stock portfolio. He made a few hundred dollars a day with his stocks in the early 90's, this allowed him to live in extreme luxury as Colombia was extremely cheap at the time.

When he went to top-tier Bogota restaurants, he would often tip more than 50 USD (possibly more than the weekly income of a typical waiter), so when he occasionally showed up without a reservation on the busiest nights, the employees would run into the back and bring out a table just for him and his guest.

Eventually his small businesses attracted (his "baller" lifestyle was also to blame) the kind of people that required him to pay a monthly "you want to do business here, you pay us" fee. The perks of shelling out to these people that threatened physical harm was that they periodically asked J if anyone was hassling him. One time J said yes, these guys are hanging out front and follow me after I lock up.

The next day was the last day on Earth for the "leader" of the thugs giving J a hard time. No one ever heard from him again, and a body was never discovered.

The thugs either completely avoided eye contact with J or called him by the nickname they used to call their leader--kind of awkward for J as he thought the leader would be beaten or maybe just threatened.. not whacked. Oops. From this point on he was a little more careful what he said to the guys he was paying for protection.

J was(still is) also subject to money grubbing women asking for some cash to tide them over. Nearly everyday we sat in the lounge area of the guest house talking for an hour or two. Every conversation was always interrupted by text messages or phone calls from different women asking to borrow $$. He had it worse than I ever did, although the girls I was talking to were from 19-27 while his were 30-45 (he's an older guy), so maybe that has something to do with it.

I cannot remember the name of the popular drug/mix that is often used to rob people in Colombia. Once the chemical is on your skin you will experience a rohypnol-like reaction, this is when the robbers either clean out your pockets or take you to an ATM for some withdrawals. Instead of putting it on a business card and having J touch it, he is pretty sure he had it sprayed in his face (and subsequently breathed it in). He remembers walking down a street, and then he wakes up in the hospital a few days later. For the next few months J experienced periodic memory loss, yikes.

One night J was out with some friends at a small mob-run casino. His possibly drunk/buzzing/doped up buddy got into an argument, pulled a gun and actually shot and killed a guy. A small crowd developed on the street in front of this casino/bar, a crowd containing J and his friends.

Normally.. if you just killed someone in public.. wouldn't you leave the scene?

"When the cops came they didn't touch us, they were paid off. Do you know how I know they were paid off? -- I paid them off."

There's more, I'll continue J's profile later.

Mexican Cartel - Baby daddy

A few days ago I woke up to a text from Dutch earrrly in the morning (5:30) that didn't make much sense. He normally isn't awake until 9-10ish, I didn't think too much of it and figured he'd call me later and explain.

Sure enough around 9 he calls me sounding very nervous and rushed. His first words are..
"B, is there room at your place?"
Groggily, "Uh yea, I think some people left yesterday or the day before. Why?"
"Ok, good. I'm coming over. I need a room."
"Yea? What happened?"
"I'll explain when I get there, see you soon." Click.

I met him at the door and helped him check in and get his room. I'm staring at him silently waiting for him to explain what the fuck is going on. Dutch has been sleeping at L's place for the last few months. Did they break up? Have a fight?

He finally understands my dirty look and motions for me to follow him into his room and close the door so no one else can hear our conversation. (this must have looked suuuper gay)

Sitting on the corner of his new bed fidgeting, rubbing the side of his face and looking down at the floor he finally begins..
"It started a couple days ago. People calling my phone asking questions about me, all on different numbers. Last night someone kept calling over and over, I answered at around 3:00. It was some girl asking if I remembered her from Leticia, says we fucked a lot and that she misses me and wants me again. L is lying next to me in bed listening to all of this, so I had to explain to her that this was all lies man, uhgg that took forever. This girl kept saying she wanted to meet me somewhere in Medellin, and using the same nickname L uses for me."

"This sounds like the guy in Mexico fucking with you."
"Yea, we determined that. She's trying to get me isolated man, this guy is trying to fucking kill me. L told him I left last month, but he obviously knows that's a lie. One of her cousins who is good friends with this guy has my number, he even has pictures of my face. Fuck man, I can't walk around the center anymore. L wanted me to set a time to meet this girl, but then she would go and fuck this girl up."
"I don't think that's very safe for her."
"She said he might kill her to get S (L's daughter)."
"Hm, yea. Killing you or her makes his life easier".

Now, a couple weeks ago Dutch and I have already had some conversations about this guy working as muscle for the Mexican cartels. That consisted of this bit:
"That guy better fucking die soon man, he's really pushing it working with the cartels. In his position, it's only a matter of time"
"We can only hope"
"L mentioned setting something up to kill him, but if it didn't work he would definitely come and kill her. If this gets too bad, I'll just marry her and take her with me."
"How will that work with her black list thing?" (L can't leave the country, she's on a gov't watch list of some type)
"Shit I don't know, but I can't just let her die here. I was thinking about sending those people in ------ (a small colonial town) a message asking if they would let her live there if things got really bad, I would send them the money. It would be some place for her to hide out, no one would know where she is except us."
"That might be a good option to have."

L recently told Dutch that while we were in Cartagena one of her friends called in a favor. L dressed up all hot and slutty and went to a certain store to distract a guy. Her instructions were to get this guy to walk to the very back of the store so her friend could shoot him, it was a success. This is basically the same tactic being used on Dutch.

The Spiral / Mother's Day

The first time L killed someone it was on accident. She intended only to put fear (I don't know why) into this girl by surprising her with the barrel of a revolver pressed to her temple. In all the excitement a finger found a trigger and split this girls head open.

Dutch compares the life of L to the main girl in "Rosario Tijeras", I just watched the movie a few days ago and it is surprisingly close. L's older brother bled out on the street from bullet wounds right in front of her at a fairly young age, which was a contributing factor to L's future violent actions. After she accidentally wasted that girl, she started to freak the fuck out and got involved with her Uncle's antics. L's mother recently told me this Uncle used to cut the feet off of live cows for fun, this guy is not a good influence on anyone.

It's midnight the day before Mother's Day and I receive a text from Dutch saying, "B, you're coming tomorrow".
I already knew he was going to L's sister's apartment for a family get-together, but I had no intentions of inviting myself or coming with.
"But.. I don't want to crash your thing with her family."
"I knew you would be like this, that's why I told you were coming, I didn't ask."
It was final.

I didn't even consider to ask where this family hangout was taking place until we had been in the cab for 20 minutes. I forgot the name of the barrio 30 seconds after they told me, but it was in the North of Medellin, a fair ways up the valley wall.
(In Medellin, a basic rule of thumb is the further south you go, the safer the neighborhoods are. The north consists of barrios resembling the shanty-like buildings you see in pictures of Rio de Janeiro. Another generalization of safety here is the higher you go up the mountain the shittier the neighborhoods get, of course there are a lot of exceptions, but it's generally correct.)

We walk up their steps, through their front door, and there are a bunch of faces I have never seen before.
"Aqui", the apparent man of the house (everyone is dressed up and he's in his boxers, nothing else) says to me and puts a cold
beer in my hand.
"Oh, hey watch out. They're going to get us hammered today, it's only a matter of time until the break out the whiskey." Dutch warns me.
Sure enough 2-3 hours and several beers later I get a glass with a few ice cubes in it and about 6 shots of whiskey. Fuck.
I'm trying to be polite and converse with these people, and they keep impeding my efforts by making my brain useless.

Someone brings out a chess board and a conversation of who vs who runs on for a few minutes. Thankfully I dodged the bullet and the first match (match? game?) is between Dutch and Boxers Only.

They apparently have two chess boards and L challenges me to a duel. We prop the table on a stool on the front balcony overlooking the street and a small community park. The day is beginning to cool off, the sky is a few shades darker, and children are out playing soccer in the park. Aside from the drug dealers hanging out in the part of the park with a few closely placed tree's, the atmosphere is heaven.

This was one of those moments you capture in your mind and cling to. It was during this time I began to realize how hard it is going to be to leave not only Colombia but specifically Medellin. I really felt like I belonged, L's sisters apartment and awesome family are giving me flashbacks to my home-stay in Suva, Fiji (one of the best experiences of my life).

Now, I haven't played a game of chess since 3rd grade. Which was also when I first learned how to play it..
I polished off the glass of whiskey only to have it replaced with a splash of coke and another 3 inches of rum. uhh "What are the rules again?" I struggle to muster up. L on the other hand, is 100% sober.

She begins by taking 6 of my pieces and severely neutering my attacking ability. My ego damaged I swallow the remainder of my glass and devote all of my focus on showing some cojones. L's sister comes by and throws 3 more inches of rum in my glass before I can politely decline, god dammit people. Somehow I am able to kill a few of her pieces, so if I lose I at least have something to show for myself.

All the while I'm wondering.. do I let her win because she's a girl? Nah, chivalry is pretty much dead anyways, ladies want equality, I'll show her equality. Do I let her win because she's Dutch's gf? Or because she has invited me to a family gathering and pumped me full of alcohol and food, or do I let her win because she has killed at least 8 people and I know she has a tazer stronger than the electrical outlets in The States resting in her back pocket?

Nah I really want to beat this bitch. I'm finally getting into the chess game and really, really, do not want to lose.

Nearly an hour later I finally hit her with a check-mate. In order to show her the upmost respect.. I stand up on my stool (quite wobbly as L's sister filled my glass for a THIRD time during the match) and shout some "whoo's!" and "in your face!"'s.

Instead of tazing me she just put her face in her hands and moped a little, I'll call that a success.

"Tales" of Violence - Continued 2

During our strolls around Cartagena, and over a few beers from a Balcony in the Old Town at night before we hit the clubs Dutch brought me in on more happenings.

It is important to point out that L (his gf, remember?) is nearly 30 years old. This means that she grew up in the most violent times in Medellin, when Pablo Escobar was doing his thing. ($5,000 to anyone who kills a police officer). -> a small fortune at the time.

When L was around 7 years old (I'll check this and correct it later) her mother took her to see a dead black dude. This guy was murdered on the street and left on the sidewalk to rot for over a week. When L saw this rotting body, it had sat in the sun for about 5 days, while people stepped around him and went upon their daily routines.

Dutch said she was still able to describe the scent and sight of the maggots boring into the discolored flesh, also, this man was not shot to death. He was hacked by a machete.

L's Uncle apparently was involved in a lot of shady dealings and brought her into the shit as she grew up.. it shows.

Semana Santa - Merida, Venezuela

When I read about Merida I thought I had found the perfect town to stay for a few weeks and focus on improving my Spanish. So many people on forums said Merida was such a great place, it is unfortunate Semana Santa is "ruining" my experience.

For the last 6 days 90% of the shops have been closed all day, after 3:00 you struggle to find places to feed yourself, it's insane. Today I would say 95% of the businesses never opened and now half of those that WERE open, are now closed. Buses out of the city are full for the next two days, so I sit here in my hostel listing to my Michel Thomas Spanish audio-course (it's really great, btw) spending cash at the shitty 4:1 ratio out of the ATM while everyone else is getting 6:1 on the black market.

No matter how I phrased the email to my parents asking them to transfer some cash to the hostels foreign account it sounds terribly shady. From my online banking client I cannot make the transfer and I don't feel like calling the bank. Shit, I might not even be able to call the bank because all of the international call centers are closed anyways. I try to explain that everyone else in the hostel is using the blackmarket to get a better exchange rate.

This is not the "but Mom, everyone is going to _____'s party but me", literally EVERYONE here is getting the good rate (aside from myself). This is not America, the black market cash exchange seems to be the primary exchange because Chavez is such a douche.