PART I

Day 1

I am in Cali, Columbia, South Am.  I am coming here from Medellin, Colombia, where I spent about a week or more attending a Live and Invest conference and just checking the place out.  I rode on 2 wheels in a Mama-mobile from Medellin to the airport which normally takes about 45-50 minutes to reach.  Today we made it in 12 minutes.  I had to  change my pants and clean my behind even before I could check into the airport, needless to say I now know the enthusiasm which makes people neal and kiss the ground.

After I got into my room in Cali and settled, I stepped across the street to get something to eat (and a few margaritas and a few thousand mojitos).  Of course no one spoke English so all of the waiters/waitresses avoided me.  Soon I had it down, mojitos and an appetizer, to be followed by dinner. The food is excellent, and very reasonably priced.  I think I am in a nice part of town.  I got the most beautiful appetizer of salmon with all this stuff on top of it, a hard cheese, sliced thin, and some type of hard noodle, but it tasted like a cross between a noodle and a crunchy french fry, anyhow, the entire plate was covered with the thinnest slices of salmon, you could read a news paper through the slices they were so thin.  At first I was thinking I would never be able to eat all this and something else too!  No problem, next two fillets of perfectly cooked beef, with mashed potatoes shaped in a round thick circle (looked pretty) and a salad on the plate with just a touch of olive oil. Total bill for salmon was about 12,000 pesos or $ 6.86  and the two fillets  is 22,000 pesos which is about $12.75; I’m loving it.   The booze is another story. 

In the middle of it all some balloons arrived on the next table, shortly people started showing up at the balloon table, to over flowing. So being the southern gentleman that I am, I explained in my perfect spanglish, gestures—arm waving and talking loud and slow, and just getting up and moving to the far end of my table—that they could use the balance of my table for the overflow, soon a rather tall, very well proportioned jet black haired 30-35 year old gorgeous woman, ask my name in English!  After I picked myself up off the floor I began a conversation with her.  She is a translator for a living.  Next, two and one-half more gorgeous women shows you who also speak English. (The one half kind of spoke spanglish---but still better than me).  I continue to eat and finish my meal, feeling guilty about eating in front of them—answering their one million questions and drinking mojitos like tomorrow will never be---all of a sudden it’s time to pay up and leave, I call the waiter over ask for my check---after I say set  the birthday boy and his party up for a round, about 10-12 drinks,  WELL now, as in RIGHT NOW, this large will dressed, pressed slacks and shirt (the rest of the guys are in jeans and plad  and/or stripped cotton pull overs (serb looking) wash and wear clothes) guy jumps up (I never paid any attention to him or anyone else who speaks Spanish, what's the use?) and comes over to me and says “NO, do not do this”   I say sure, I have imposed on Sammy’s birthday and I will buy a drink for everyone no proplemo, he says “I beg you not to do this, I will not leave your side or sit down until you give in, if you want to buy someone a drink, only buy the 3 girls sitting by you their drinks—please I beg you of this” (he speaks English also, and had been observing me)  as he is about 100 pounds heavier and 6 inches taller than me, has the best part of his arm around my neck and squeezing harder and harder as he continues to insist, and I save about 50 dollars, I reluctantly give in.  The interrupter, Gabriel, seems to have a large stake in an apparel corporation, and is responsible for tons of outsourcing from the USA to Colombia. He is who makes all of the camo cloths in Bass Pro Shop, Dicks, and the U S Army and on and on.  He says this show  of a round of drinks for about 12 people draws attention to yourself, that I already look and dress like an American ( I verified this with the chicks and they agreed that in fact, I do dress and look american—damnit) and all of the guys at the table were assholes, poor opportunist who would kidnap me in a second—( I don't think they would 'really' kidnap me , I think he was making a point he wanted me to realize) and that he had been kidnapped before but that’s another day,  anyhow I hired the black haired girl and another smaller  girl and her car for the rest of my time here.  Gabriel, my new bestest friend, arranged the pay scale and etcetera.  I can go dove hunting with him today or Tuesday, but it has  be one of these days as he goes dove hunting every Saturday and Tuesday, and if I don’t go with him, then I am an asshole  too!   We’re going Tuesday.  Next I wake up at the table by myself, with all my possessions, at I don’t know what time, look around rather embarrassed, pay my little bill and across the street to my hotel.  
  
My taxi driver stayed with me most of the late morning (when I got into town), and to mid afternoon, seems the guy I latched onto at the airport in Cali (met him at the Medellin airport—Got with him before he got away) and asked to tell the smallest, oldest, most honest looking, harmless taxi driver to take me into town and drive me around so I could see the part of town I wanted to stay in. (two and one half million people here in Cali proper), well, something got lost in the translation, I ended up at every monastery, historic church, up on two big ass hills overlooking the city (with no battery charged in my camera, because I switched my charged one with someone in Medellin and he made the switch permanent), up and down every street, out in the country, and at the Cali Zoo—the zoo alone took about 2.5 hours, and we stopped for a beer once and got bottled water at the Zoo—so by the time I got to the restaurant I was just a little starved! In the middle of all this, he stopped and called a friend of his who spoke English, he set me up to hire him for my time here (the taxi driver kept coming over and looking in my wallet when I paid for the beer, water and tickets to the museum and kept wanting to tell me where my 20,000 and 10,000 peso notes were in my wallet, even when I turned my back on him, he kept walking around to my front and pointing to what money to give up—I know how to count money, you don’t need to know any language to accomplish this small item—anywhere in the world, it just comes natural after about 2 transactions and just looking at the money). I talked to the guy and promised to call him sometime after 3 or 4 in the afternoon, we would have diner and make the deal. Whole time I’m thinking... hmmm? The rest of the afternoon at times when I was occupied looking at the snakes, turtles, monkeys, or some other interesting animal, he was talking on the phone with his back to me, like I knew what the heck he was saying anyway. When I picked a hotel and was negotiating a room he insisted that I not forget to call this guy and get with him. NOT, NO WAY HOSE! Hence the two chicks… Thank you God
Now here I am.

Day 2

I am in Cali, maybe my second day—who knows it all seems to drift together.
  
Its late but I just got in, I only had one hot chick today, she started late, had to get the car, get something else, go to the store, pick up the kid, go to lunch, and finally we got out of town at about 3-p.m. I wanted to go to the sugar cane fields and stuff like that, so away we go. We end up in these completely wild little towns, back behind the sugar cane fields, and it’s no way I can describe them except you could hear the music a mile away, tons of people in the street, dancing and dancing, hot women, food, cold beer, horses and horse drawn buggy's in, on and up and down the street, old people, babies, you name it. WILD!  Every 2 or 3 miles there are more just like it—people everywhere. I feel right at home, beggars all over me, holding me, talking stuff I can’t even began to understand. I left the hot chick in the car at the end of a circle street to take pictures and wave and talk Spanglish to find out what's going on, I leave for another street to check things out and the hot chick freaks, next thing she is driving up behind me saying “Walker, walker are you lost, did you lose me? I was worried about you (I think she meant to say ‘me’)”. Naw, I’m ok I’m keeping my eyes on you; I won’t let anything happen to you. Well she says, we need to get back, it’s getting dark. Walker says— and that’s what I’m talking about!  Look at the party going on now, wait till dark, I’ll bet you ain’t seen nothing yet! Needless to say, I thought she was going to run over about one thousand people getting out of there, never rolled up a window before—now all the windows are rolled up and the doors locked—almost ran over a big ass bus, I was laughing my butt off. She was so glad to get back to the city, where there is no music, no dancing, no begging, just a bunch of lunatic drivers trying to kill you. Later at  dinner, I told her I want to go back tomorrow—after all its Monday ( most of the big deal places are closed where I am staying—cause its Monday—) and if they are this wide open on Monday out in the back of the sugar cane fields,  what's it going to be like on Tuesday? She says  “Oh I have some really, really nice places to take you on the south side of the city tomorrow”  the cane fields are west of the city—Gabe backed out of the dove hunt—his mother came into town, lunch, shopping etc.—”see you next time”—damnit, I was going to get some free camo too! To go along with a couple thousand birds—anyhow, so now I have to spend the day with the hot chick again. damnit again.  I’m trying to figure how to get her back to the ghetto tomorrow, but even if she goes she won’t help me talk to these people, I can’t even tell you—WILD.  I can see someone disappearing in the sugar  cane fields, much later at harvest time, whatever is left of you being swiped up into the cane trains—train cars on wheels (a big  tractor-trailer pulls as many of these giant train cars on giant wheels as the horsepower of the tractor can pull. I have seen as many as 6-7, maybe more,  in a row heading to the factory on the highways and in the fields),  ground up with the stalks and drank in someone's coffee or Kool Aide a few weeks later. 
  
My Hot Chick, Alejandra, is not married. Her sister is, the one in Ecuador, and she is a very, very well spoken, kind, considerate 30 year old Christian, living with her parents, keeping her child in private school, and trying desperately to make ends meet. She said that she has never spent more than long enough to buy a quart of milk there in the back of he sugar cane fields in her life. It seems she knows or knew someone who lived out there somewhere in maybe a better area, she was visiting and one morning she went into town to buy some milk for her child, who I met yesterday, the child is 8 now, her name is Marianna. I don’t know how long ago all this took place. One of the hot chicks, the little one,  dropped out yesterday (Monday), and went to her regular job, which is commission work, selling advertising space for shows that sell apartments and store fronts in the city.  She rides the bus over one hour each way do work.  She is showing up for diner each night, and I certainly enjoy her company as does Alejandra. They are fun to watch. I do think that it may have been  cheaper if I were kidnapped though. The big one wants a man bigger than her (at least 6 feet), beautiful (her words), and loves her more than his right arm—”he would cut off his right arm rather than lose me”.   I suggested to her in typical woman’s world, she would then cheat on him and eventually leave him because he had only one arm. That she too must love him enough to cut off her right arm for him. I got a big laugh on that one from both of them.

All this conversation took place yesterday on the drive out and at diner. I told her maybe God is telling us you will find your future husband out here in the sugar cane fields (the towns are all in the back of these 1000s and 1000s of acres of Sugar cane and cattle and corn fields). Well, I got her to stop in the first place I heard loud music, I grabbed a beer at the local outdoor bakery, and walked next door to the discotheque, a 16’ X 25 foot outdoor shed, and this was a good one  (quite a stretch from what we think of at home, but the way it is), she followed me in said the music was too loud for her and she wanted me to sit with her in front of the bakery (about 20 feet away), besides she does not want to “mingle” in there. So back out I go (all the hot chick disco dancers were checking out the gringo), she is nervously glancing around everywhere, and along comes a bus with a 6 foot, nice looking, light skinned Columbian holding on (for his life)  in the doorway of the bus.  As the bus is going  down the street, he was eyeballing her big time, and we are RIGHT there, like 3 feet from the bus, as it takes the corner on 2 wheels, I say “look , look, there he is—your dream man is on the bus, and he is eyeballing you big time. She missed the whole thing.

Later at diner she says she saw him, that he had a wife beating shirt on --I don’t think so, but I cannot remember for sure.  The point is, around here there is levels of family, levels of education—which leads to levels of work opportunities—levels of self control, ethics, honesty and morality, and who you mix with.  Just like where we all live.  No difference.  The difference is no one from the Gov’t is here trying to make everyone the same.  In the ghetto the gov’t seems to provide free school, decent roads and a safe environment for the people.  The Gov’t helps the sugar cane people stay occupied, safe, and happy in one place—they have good roads, good housing, decent stores, lots of open-air markets of everything and anything, music, dancing, and  freedom--and they are away from the more ambitious population in the much  more sophisticated city of Cali.  However, if they wish to make the transition to Cali and what that requires (behave and act responsibly) they are free to do so.  Nothing but ‘self’ limits you here in Columbia. Nothing but ‘self’ advances you.  Count on the Government to protect you, sometimes...damn I seem to remember something like that in the States a long time ago.  Now  it seems my USA gov’t wants to decide who is going to be the winner, who is going to be the looser, who is going to school where, and what is going to be taught in those schools, who can marry who, who can get a cheap loan, who can’t, how much water I can use to flush my toilet, how long I can keep my lights on at night (oh yes this is true), the number of hours I can drive and stay open for business in a day,  and on and on.  Needless to say, Columbia spends about one thousandth of one percent of what the US spends on cops,  and THEY enjoy the freedom that those numbers affords the population.  Heaven forbid that the Muslims find out about their freedoms.  There is one thing, in addition to making Columbia a “Free Trade” partner with the US, we are and have been, supplying them with gobs of USA taxpayer money and spy and tracking equipment for years.  What's this money being used for?  To enhance the USA’s irresponsible, crazy, demoralizing, wasteful, “war on drugs”.  In fact, while I am here, I have seen Columbian military forces, pushed from behind by US troops, invade beyond the Ecuadorian border, ignoring the protests of the Ecuadorian people and their President, to capture a Columbian drug lord, who made it across the border into Ecuador, and this is not the first time, they did, according to the hot chick, earlier on, and killed several people in Ecuador, to the protests of Ecuador again.   AHHH Yes, US influence is strong in Columbia.  Look for freedom in Columbia to become Americanized.  I can only pray they wake up before its too late.  In fact, Ecuador has told the USA to keep their money and butt out of Ecuador’s business. (USA was doing the same thing in Ecuador with $$$$ to fight drugs-at the so called ‘source’).  Seems the USA’s big drug ideas is destroying the country and causing financial ruin to their treasury—overflowing the jails and ruining many family's lives for nothing, same as it does in the USA.   Ola.  Good for Ecuador.  Ecuador is highest on my places to live and invest.  I will be there in February of 2013.