Hiking around Villa de Leyva with Anthony, Margaret, Jayne, and Priyanka
My first semester at Los Andes has finished, and incredibly I’m halfway through my time in Colombia. Classes ended well, and I feel I got quite a bit out of them. My class on the history of the Colombian armed conflict has given me a good overview of the past century in Colombia, and the professor of the course shared many great stories from the various peace processes he has been involved in with different guerrilla groups. A second class, on the theory of armed conflict, was a downer, as professors Tom Cruise (one looked like Tom Cruise) and Kung Fu Panda (the other like Jack Black) failed to deliver on what could have been an interesting course. Our class on negotiations and peace processes was my favorite and made me realize that I’m most interested in the role the international community can play in the development of peace in internal conflicts—a good interest for me to have, I suppose, given the unlikelihood of an armed conflict in the States.
Sampling chicha, a local beverage of fermented corn, with Jayne and Raimondo
During the second half of the semester, I grew closer to many other students, as our time together extended from the classroom to the social arena. Close friends include: David, who hails from Pasto, the most ridiculed place in Colombia; Raimondo, an Italian whose greatest love is reggaeton; Sophia, the group’s go-to photographer for all social events; Juan Felipe, member of two rock bands, one called Dandi Yonquis that sings completely in English; Juan Ricardo, who recently exposed us foreigners to traditional Colombian music during his birthday celebration; Laura, my partner in crime at the concert of La 33, Bogotá’s most famous salsa band; Mariz, socialist and dancing feign; Carlotta, a Spanish student who recently became my neighbor; and Daniel, another Spaniard who could easily pass as a Colombian—sans the accent—after having spent eight years here.
Amusing ourselves at Juan Valdez, Colombia's popular coffee chain
Old friends also have graced the scene as of late. Priyanka, Margaret, and Jayne, all of whom were with Anthony and me in Cuba in 2006, came to visit a couple weeks ago. Anthony and I enjoyed giving them a tour of the city we presently call home. We sampled Colombia’s most important legal export at various cafes; visited the Botero museum; danced at a variety of clubs, ranging from the Moulin Rouge-esce Andres Carne de Res to the decades-old local hotspot, Goce Pagano; ate fabulously both in my new neighbor and at Restaurante Casa Antonio Dest; and climbed—ok, went by cable car—to the top of Monserrate, the peak that overlooks the city. We also had a chance to leave the city to visit Villa de Leyva, a colonial town five hours outside of Bogotá, where we hiked around waterfalls, went horseback riding at night, and hung out in town’s enormous plaza.
Priyanka and I on top of Monserrate
My friends’ visit was over before it started, only to be followed by a visit from my girlfriend, Paula, en route to a Nourish International summer in Peru. I continued to perfect my skills as a tour guide, and the weather even cooperated for the second week in a row. In addition to general exploring, we had a chance to see Son de Cali in concert and host a house warming party at my new apartment. All went well in the latter, excluding the lack of chairs, which left a number of people on the floor. Oh well, yet another reason Colombians should show up on time!
Son de Cali
Paula left a few days ago, and I have been playing catch-up since. More post should follow soon…
Paula and I out with my classmates
Some of you may remember last year’s controversy that followed a Dunkin Donuts ad in which Rachael Ray appeared wearing a scarf that resembled the Arab keffiyeh, or hattah. Led by blogger Michelle Malkin, who called the keffiyeh “a regular adornment of Muslim terrorists appearing in beheading and hostage-taking videos,” conservatives pressured Dunkin Donuts to remove the ad, which the company did, much to the chagrin of Arab-Americans. It is true that the keffiyeh became associated with the Palestinian resistance movement in the 1960s and had been strongly tied to the image of Yasser Arafat. Yet, to many Arabs across the Middle East and in the rest of the world, the keffiyeh is nothing but a traditional headdress worn by men to protect from sun exposure and blowing sand.
Strangely, the keffiyeh, or palestina as Colombians sometimes call it, has become a fashion item in Bogotá in the last few years. People of all ages and classes wear keffiyehs as scarves, without any political consideration at all. You can find palestinas in every market across the city, mixed in with traditional artisan goods. The only person who has ever commented on my wearing of one was an Israeli backpacker, who asked, isn’t that an Arab thing?
The Michelle Malkins of the world would be shocked at how common keffiyehs are in Bogotá. Perhaps someday the conservative campaign to wipe them out as a fashion item will arrive here, as occurred with Urban Outfitters in 2007 (after complaints, the company stopped selling keffiyehs and said it had not intended “to imply any sympathy for or support of terrorists or terrorism”). For now, I can continue wearing mine without causing controversy.
