Asakiyume mita

A couple of times when we were in Bogotá, we ventured into places we shouldn't go. Both times locals swooped down like guardian angels to redirect us.

Once was when we started up a path into the hills, thinking vaguely that it might get us up Cerro de Monserrate, a mountain that's a pilgrimage site and from which you can see all of Bogotá. I wasn't super keen on being along on a trail in the hills, but Wakanomori pointed out that there was a grandfatherly-aged man up ahead of us, with a child, and that so long as there were other people around, we'd be fine.

We hadn't taken more than two steps on the path when the grandfather turned around and came up to us. "No vengas por aquí,"** he said. "Es peligroso." Don't come here; it's dangerous.

I don't know whether he meant the path itself was dangerous--like there were steep drops or something--or that there might be other sorts of trouble, but we didn't argue. We just said thank you and that we'd turn around. We took the cable car up Monserrate instead. It was magnificent.

cable car going up


view from the top


The other time was when we went to see the church that's right at the edge of the Egipto neighborhood, which has a fair amount of gang violence. (Basically, as you go south from Bogotá and up the sides of the hills, things become more precarious.) We walked up the steep streets (not yet in Egipto)...



... and came to the church (there are many, many beautiful churches in Bogotá). It was begun in 1556 and finished in 1657, but the present look is due in large part to modifications at the start of the 20th century.



You can see that there are paintings on the wall beside the stairs to the right of the church. Up just a little way past there were some interesting wall murals, and we decided we'd juuust walk that far and take some pictures. We started walking, but two women, coming up in the direction we'd just come, called to us and came hurrying our way.

I didn't understand what they were saying at first--and they recognized that I couldn't, but they persisted anyway; they didn't give up. I finally understood that they were asking if we were sightseeing, and I said yes. Like the man on the path, they said it was too dangerous. Safe as far as the church, but no further. Wakanomori recalls, though I don't (maybe because I was struggling to understand and respond to the words), that the woman drew her hand across her throat, miming death. Point taken! We thanked them and went back the way we came.

I was really grateful that people looked out for us in that way.


**What I remember is "No ven por aquí," but when I check online, that seems to be grammatically wrong so ... I'm putting in what the internet says is right.

In Japan, even before you enter a store, an employee will call out "Irasshaimase!" inviting you in. In Bogotá it was "A la orden!" Around lunch time, employees of the eateries would cruise around with menus--at some distance from the eatery, even--and invite you in.

That's what happened to us with El Patron. Leonardo, who looked like a teen and had a brilliant smile, came up to us and ushered us up the street, around the corner, and into El Patron. When my Spanish got us only so far, he introduced us to Laura, who spoke beautiful English and chatted to us about all sorts of things. She had the best way of saying "egg-ZACT-ly" when I guessed what English word she was searching for. The food was delicious and plentiful and very, very inexpensive. We came back several times, and in our conversations we learned that Laura was from Venezuela (many Venezuelans have taken refuge in Colombia because of the economic free fall of present-day Venezuela).

I loved this message at El Patron:



(There is no Wi-Fi; talk among yourselves)

It's a very them type of message. El Patron is not an on-the-map place. (It's not the "El Patron" that comes up if you do a search on that name and Bogotá. I know exactly where it is, and it's not listed on Google maps even at the highest magnification. Sailing underneath the radar.)

Here's a view from where we sat.



And here is Laura (on the right), with Erika--"not just a coworker, we're truly friends," she said.



El Patron was the sit-down place we liked best; otherwise, we liked getting things in the street. Here, arepas:



They are cooked on a charcoal brazier on the front of a very sturdy bicycle.

And here's a mobile coffee vendor:



Fruits deserve an entry of their own....