Monthly Archives for April 2012

You are what you wear…went to school…and live.

I am writing this post from under my blanket on the sofa, this fine Sunday morning. I think now is a great time to tell you about my lifestyle here in Bogota, and I hope that you too are sitting as comfortably as I am.

One of the first things I LOVE to do when I arrive in Bogota is go straight to the peluqueria and get a manicure and pedicure.

The ultimate luxury (my £2.50 manicure)

Et voila!

Oooooh, fancy you say? Well, not really as for the price of a Pret sandwich, you can spend an hour in a beauty salon being attended to hand and foot. This makes me very happy. You see, here in Colombia, appearance is everything. Literally. And this for me is the biggest difference between my two cultures. In Britain, where chipped manicures and that ‘just rolled out of bed’ look is hailed as creative, here in Bogota, you are judged and classed based on what you’re wearing, where you went to school and where you live. Classes here are literally divided into ‘stratas’ which is like the ultimate postcode lottery. ‘Strata’ is the grade allocated to your apartment which is rated 1 to 6, with 6 being the highest. This rating is granted based on local amenities, access to health and education, the number of teen pregnancies etc. Here in Colombia, I am blessed to be at the top end of the scale and as a single girl from London, this is presenting all kinds of social nuances. For a start, it means that I am advised to only date from the same social class, after all, I’m told that it’s easy to slip down the grade, but not so easy to climb up. This is where you get the ‘neuvo rich’ who have the wealth, but not the genetic lineage. Yes, this is England back in the nineteen hundreds on steroids.

Stratum 1 : Lowest income.
Stratum 2 : Low-Middle class.
Stratum 3 : Middle class.
Stratum 4 : Upper middle class.
Stratum 5 : Upper class.
Stratum 6 : Wealthy. Only the 6% of Colombians fit this category.

(Source: Wikipedia)

So, how do I meet these eligible bachelors who are from the right families, schools and location? “Te presento a mi prima”. Yes, in Colombia, relatives and friends “present” you to each other and then you network. This sounds so privileged and old fashioned, but actually it is the warmth and Colombian spirit which makes it so much fun and guaranteed to wave the magic wand of providing you with the best time of your life. Relatives soon become your best friends, strangers your next awesome Saturday night out. People literally bend over backwards to accommodate you, and if you’re new to the city, you’re rapidly “presented” to as many friends of friends or cousins twice removed, and quickly develop friendships which in Britain would take months to build and only over a few too many wines and “ooops, I’ve missed the last tube” blurry night out.

Where do these people hang out you say? In North Bogota. This is my stomping ground. It’s where the best restaurants, bars and clubs are, and not just from Colombia, but around the world. The prices aren’t cheap either as you’ll be paying Western prices for washing down your drink nestled in the most interesting architecture I’ve ever seen. Here is where the most beautiful people hang out. And by that, I don’t mean in a pretentious or silicone-enhanced way, but just naturally absolutely stunning, which is like a reflection of their surroundings.

I wanted to share this with you as it is my biggest transition here in Colombia, every detail of which I promised to reflect on my blog. My life here is incomparable to London, and yes you might think that I am extremely lucky, and privileged. And yes I am. I am so lucky to be given the chance to live in a beautiful city, and privileged to have the best, most welcoming family that I could ask for. My parents’ three bed terraced house in Palmers Green certainly feels miles away.

London is never far from my mind in Bogota

Queen of the World (and Corn)

Today I feel on top of the world. Well yes, I am 2,500 meters high, but I’ve found my feet and finally opened my eyes. Why do you ask? Well, for the first time, I’ve been OUT OF THE HOUSE and done something social. Yes, that’s what I said. I left the house. With someone other than my aunt. WOW. Big steps. Oooops, hope for your sake that spill doesn’t stain…

Where did I go you ask? I went to a yoga class. Yes, I did something for myself that I love to do, and it was exactly what the doctor ordered. It is a lovely little yoga studio on Calle 85 with Carrera 19, and the class was run by my cousin. Yes. I have a lot of cousins.

Natural Yoga Bogota

If you’re in the area, I certainly recommend trying yoga here. They do lots, including yoga things for babies and those with babies tucked up inside bumps. OK, this is not a plug, but a personal this has been the best thing I’ve done so far. Not only was the exercise brilliant, it also introduced me to the second-to-none Colombian warmth. I was immediately invited out for drinks, dinner, to meet single friends of my cousin, oh yeah, and “I have a friend, she’s lovely and she speaks English….we’ll have to go out”.

I was even asked to be “la reina del maiz” (Queen of the Corn) in a music video. Hell yeah. Bring it on. I’ll even make my own corn crown if I have to.

This is more like it. Yes, this is why I’ve upped sticks and left the UK.

I’ll let you know how it goes as the Queen of Corn. You can be my mini sweetcorn subjects.

The early bird beats the traffic

The blender’s going, the front door buzzer’s thrilling, it can only mean one thing; it’s 5.30am and the school bus is here to take my cousin to school.

Crazy isn’t it?

At an hour when only the wildlife and night watchmen should be stirring, here in Bogota, the school day kicks into action. I am told that it’s to beat the traffic. You see, the traffic in Bogota is TERRIBLE. Way worse than London, or anywhere else I’ve seen. Think bumper to bumper. Not only that, schools are usually located miles out of the city in the countryside where there’s more space for the kids to run around. As you’d expect from a rapidly growing capital city, Bogota is crammed, with wide open spaces almost unheard of and at a premium. So young children face commutes of over an hour to get to school. But unlike London where they’re freezing at bus stops, the majority of children take American style buses to school. But if school starts at 7am and doesn’t finish until 4pm, a school bus is a little compensation for a 5.30am call time.

Typical scene in Bogota (rain included). Image courtesy of Mike's Bogota Blog

American style school buses, available in lots of colours. (Image courtesy of The Guardian).

Time to roll over and thank my lucky stars that I’ve got another few hours of sleep ahead of me.

There’s no place like home.

Hola, this is my first blog from 2,500 meters high in the sky. What have I been up to, you say? Well quite a lot and nothing at the same time! In the few days I’ve been here, I’ve had a big family reunion (great), been hit by Colombian bureaucracy (rubbish), developed a twitch in my eye from the stress of the Colombian bureaucracy (pants), had a £2 blowdry (recommend), eaten yummy food (can’t complain), forgotten my Spanish (booo), practised some Spanish (hooray), and enrolled in Saturday art classes (can’t wait).

…Phew….

So I’ve been busy, and my zapatos literally haven’t touched the ground. I am trying my very best to settle in but keep in mind what my friends’ say: “The mind is like a parachute; it’s best when open”. Or, “Be like a feather and go with the wind”. So basically, do everything against my instinct of kicking and screaming then. Baby steps, must remember to walk like a toddler not run like Bolt.

Joking aside, to be honest, this has been the hardest post to write so far as my feelings are everywhere….When I started this blog, I wanted to be able to share everything with you, and well, this is a hard part of the journey for me. You see, for the first time in my adult life, I am unemployed and trying to find my way in life. OK, so I left my job, but still, this is a tough ride. I know I should be ‘out there’ and meeting people and seeing things, but all I’ve wanted to do over this week has been hide in my room, acclimatise to the altitude, get used to the language, and that’s it. My emotions are everywhere, and I guess I put so much pressure on myself to ‘live the dream’ and waiting for something magical to happen. It’s weird, because as soon as I arrived, I looked out the plane window and thought to myself that I was home. So this is the right thing to do. But there’s been a massive part of me that is very much British, drinking copious amounts of Yorkshire tea and sat in my room with my Union Jack cushion. You see, I’ve never felt so different about a stay in Colombia. This is not the ‘hey, I’m on holiday’ mode where I throw myself into everything, but a different, more ‘I’m in it for the long term’ vibe. I think I need to relax, drink some Aguardiente, watch the people go by and grab life by the horns.

As a doctor I know says, you will breathe fine in water if you relax as you’ll float to the top, but if you start kicking and thrashing around, you’ll drown.

Here’s to taking each day as it comes; one sip of Yorkshire tea at a time.

Teatime in Bogota

It’s all white

I miss my bed. I miss its sprawling size covered in white linen and the way the sun dances across the sheets as it’s setting in the afternoon. This is the time it’s at its best, when lying in the sun spots listening to the birds sing and while the evening away.

Beautiful view of the gardens from my room in London.

My room in Colombia is also going to be white, but there’s no window overlooking the outside world, just an internal window overlooking the laundry room. You see, it was the original maid’s room but the live-in maid has long gone, so it’s been turned into the spare room. It’ll be fine though. It’s away from the rest of the apartment, and my aunt has bent over backwards, even hanging up a map of London as well as getting it freshly painted in my favourite colour. Oh, and there’s an ensuite.

Bedroom in Bogota.

So I can’t really complain. But as I watch the sun setting from my airline seat, my thoughts drift back to my favourite room in the world at its best time.

But did I mention the ensuite?

No soy Colombiana

(Still on the flight)

I feel like a fraud. I am not Colombian, I’m English. I may look the part, but inside right now, I couldn’t feel more English if you tried. I feel like one of fake wallets that say ‘Prado’ instead of ‘Prada’. I know my Colombian cedula (national I.D. card) and passport is real, but I honestly couldn’t feel more British if you tried. Maybe it’s being around all the efficient, polite Germans that’s bringing it out. Maybe it’s still shock and some sort of defence mechanic. Maybe when I actually get to the airport, the Latin in me will come out and I’ll start pushing, shoving and fluently informing the porters that no, I don’t need assistance.

Right now, the only Spanish I’m remembering is ‘uno mass vino tinto por favor’.

Off to a flying start

Hi there, I am writing to you from 41A, Lufthansa flight LH252 to Bogota. Yes, that’s right; my belongings were miraculously squeezed into two 23kg bags, which will form my life for the next 10 months or so.

I can’t believe this is happening. I’ve spent the past 17 hours in absolute stunned shocked. I am trying to feel excited and positive, and imagine what it’ll be like to live in Colombia, but it soon dissipates into shock.

Hmmmmm.

On the plus side, flying with Lufthansa have been BRILLIANT. In the past few weeks, everything has been a great decision (and I’m sure the shock will wear off at SOME point) and choosing to fly with Lufthansa over the competitors has been a decision I’m loving. This is not a sponsored post but for those of you who are weighing up the airlines, I can tell you my experience which may help. In the past 18 months, I have flown with Air France (via Paris) and Iberia (via Madrid) to Bogota. This time, after LOTS of weighing the pros and cons, decided to re-try Lufthansa after ten years and fly via Frankfurt (you see, there are no direct flights from London to Bogota, and every dark haired Colombian worth their salt knows that the USA immigration is best avoided like the plague).

Not only has Lufthansa been a comfortable, friendly and clean airline, the seats have their own entertainment screen, which sounds so ‘yeah, so what’, but after my last flight with Iberia it was a welcomed sight! The staff have been very attentive and very friendly….a big bonus against the rather snobby French air hostesses whose idea of service is switching on the seatbelt sign and retiring to their dorms. Not so great considering the pricey fares.

The journey started well even before I boarded the flight as I decided to fly from London City Airport to Frankfurt. I’ve flown from there before, but never long haul. Turns out no one else really thinks to do it either as its like spotting a yellow suit during rush hour in Moorgate station…it just never happens. As you can imagine an airport to be which caters to Clients (not screaming germs) the experience was efficient and professional, which is what you’d expect from passengers all with expense accounts. To say I stood out like a sore thumb in my tracksuit and tears is an understatement, but with a promise of check-in to gate in 20 minutes, this is the closest to chauffeur driven planes for mass consumption possible. I just hope BAA don’t destroy this gem.

Seen as 'heavy' by London City Airport's standards in a sea of briefcases.

Little plane in London City Airport

After taking a little city jet flight with 20% capacity and commuters with Prada handbags, I truly felt shattered and about ten years old with my Eastpack rucksack from school. But, nevertheless, Frankfurt didn’t disappoint either. As you’d expect, the Germans are efficient. Very efficient. You could not get a bigger culture clash as the Colombians hung out, strummed guitars and played Cumbia music at the departure gate, all to cries of only one piece hand baggage is allowed on board please. But I didn’t care, my belly was full of the delicious food on offer in the food court. I knew about the efficiency, but the good food was a surprise. There was the smell of sausages everywhere, and only now does it click that Frankfurters come from, erm, Frankfurt. Moving on. There were sausages everywhere and they smelt amazing. I choose for one wrapped in bread with cheese and gherkins and lightly heated by a very friendly waitress.

Yummy German sausage lunch in Frankfurt airport

If I had more Euros on me, I would have gone full out and got some beer from a very tall glass….must warn my dad to add this to his budget as this is quite literally his heaven. Having never been to Germany before, I now get it. And I’ve only been to the airport. But of course, it was operated by Lufthansa so it was a very good airport.

Prologue: A Fresh Start

Hi there! My name is Freny and this is my blog. Why am I writing a blog you ask? Because I’ve decided to pack up my life into two 23kg suitcases and thought you might like to hear all about my adventures in Colombia.

So why did I do this? Because my world literally crashed around me and I thought I’d turn this into an opportunity to live my dream. You see, my mother’s Colombian and every time I go to visit family there, I feel alive and at home. The country is where my soul is, so I thought that my situation is fate’s way of kicking me up the arse to bite the bullet and live the dream. And heck, if it doesn’t work out, I can pay £120 to Lufthansa and they’ll fly me back to the UK.

So…that just leaves the question; what the hell happened to me? Well in case you didn’t know, a glass door smashed over my head. Yes that’s right, a door. And it was a summation and catalyst at the same time. A summation in that I was burnt out, stressed out and over worked. It was a catalyst to the beginning of the end to life as I knew it as an account handler in a top London ad agency. I basically had a nervous breakdown, and after a lot of soul searching, great doctors, supportive parents, friends and advisers, I eventually got through the darkness and depression, to emerge stronger and healthier like a phoenix from the ashes. I am definitely not there yet, but I am a lot better than before.

It’s mad to think what a whirlwind the last four months have been, and even the last two years. During this time, I left my husband (and childhood sweetheart), went off the rails, spent loads of cash, and threw myself into working hard and partying harder. Then spent 2011 learning how to live and manage myself. If it wasn’t for the accident, I’d still be in the same place; working far too much and living far too little. Now I value life and seek a better work / life balance. I’ve also unearthed my old talents like drawing, which I’ll show you along the way. I have no idea how long I will be in Colombia for, but I will share my life with you as best as I can. I want to show people what life is like beyond the stereotypes. Colombia is a rising star at the moment, and I am eager to discover what it’s really like to discover my Colombian roots, and how at home I will be exactly. Will I take to it like a duck to water, or feel like a ‘gringa’ trying to make sense of the culture? It’s going to be exciting and scary at the same time and I have yet to answer the question: Where is home? Britain or Colombia?

Like the rest of the world, I too am paying attention to Colombia.

Ulimately, I am looking forward to a fresh start and a new life. This is my journey. Welcome on board.

But if you ask me what I’ll miss most in Britain, it’s my mum. And that will make me cry. So if you see me, please don’t.

Packing the travel essentials.

gringaColombiana