I Stand Out Here Like I Did in India

 Well, so does my mom.

I think we're the only 2 blondes I've actually seen here (we can get into the fact that I am not technically a real blonde later. What's important is that's how I look).

We look like this:

                

And since most everyone else here look like these beautiful people:

We tend to out ourselves as Americans. Which, unfortunately, is not a sensation that I get to experience often. Being the only "Westerner." Because it is good for you to feel at times like the odd man out, to get to understand that feeling, and realize that there is a great big world out there that doesn't revolve around you or your culture. So yes, good....but at the same time, you're a target for all the scams.

Yesterday we were in this pretty little plaza, and a guy speaking great English (which is unusual here--because the lack of American/European influence means it's been wonderfully untouched) approached us, because--hair, hat, we're tourists, and asked if we wanted a photo.

He then went on to give us the history of the plaza, oldest church, 375 years old, old convent, etc...and then worked his way into explaining that he had an emerald shop, and that emeralds were THE thing to buy in Colombia. He had taken a great photo of us, so I played along and went to his shop. 

And I mean, the emeralds were beautiful. But the first thing he had me put on cost $1,600 US dollars, which is WAY out of this girl's budget. I'm like, I'm sorry, I don't have that kind of money.

At which point he looked me with disbelief and disgust and took off to find other blonde tourists, if possible.

So yeah. I get that being from the US means I must be rich. And in comparative terms, I suppose I am. 

But I still can't buy his emeralds.

And he did take a good photo.

The difference in the cost of things is staggering here...I haven't had a meal that cost me more than $15 and the best cocktail hasn't been more than $5. My dad bought a bottle of Glenfiddich for $30! You could get so used to it. And it's hard to distance yourself from what you think things ought to cost to what they actually do.

So there was, in fact, some discussion at breakfast this morning over what the driver we hired to take us to beaches today ought to actually be paid, with some in the "we should pay him more because it's still cheap for us as Americans and it's great for him" camp and some in the "yes but we're actually screwing ourselves because paying less is still a lot for him" camp, and both are valid.

Either way, I'm just happy to be spending a lot less than for a week in Colombia than I will for 2 days in New York next week. 

But I Thought Italy Had Prepared me for the Heat....

 I'm sitting here in my nice, cold hotel room writing this (never fear, I will be taking to the streets again shortly), with suspected heat stroke. 

Now I am one of those typical midwesterners who gets so used to months of snow that at the first sign of a 50 degree day is wearing shorts. That's hot for me. So even though I've spent years of summers in Italy, dying in the non-existent air conditioned conditions (as Italians swear it will kill you), they ain't got nothin' on Colombia. I mean, I am scarily close to the equator, so I shouldn't actually be surprised, but for some reason, I thought I could go running in the 130 degree heat this morning. 

OK. it's likely not 130 degrees out. Maybe it's even only 80, and I am just a whiny baby, but I tend toward the dramatic.

Anyway, I went running. And that's because the amount of alcohol I consumed yesterday (and consequently, calories) sort of scared me into some sort of physical activity to counteract said alcohol. So off to run I went!

And true, it may have created a bit of heat stroke in me, but hey! That's the price you pay to be able to experience this:

Or this:

Or this:

Which were all scenes from my run today, which was awesome because it was early and there were relatively few people around. 

So now, I am headed back out into the heat, with my parents, brother and sister-in-law. And I will wear a big hat like a good little tourist and throw back several cold cervezas....and enjoy this gorgeous Cartagenan heat.

Cartin' off to Cartagena

Well, 5 hours ago I abandoned all hope of getting all my work done before heading out on vacation, turned on my OOO and fell into bed for a quick 4 hours of sleep before my alarm sounded at 3 am. Because I. Am. Off!! To Colombia!!

And while YOU might imagine drug cartels and dictators, I'm looking forward to beautiful colonial architecture and eating my weight in empanadas.

So I've got several hundred thousand pesos in my pocket (don't worry--that's like 20 bucks), I convinced Spirit to let me depart even without having pre-filled out some mysterious immigration form, and I'm awake at 5 am. It's an auspicious start to this next adventure!!

I'm a Colombian millionaire.