My First Riot, Part I

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I know what you're thinking, but this is not a children's story about an Irish lad going to his first soccer game. Nor is it a terrible memoir about the life-changing night when I met my heroes Quiet Riot.

No, My First Riot started out innocently enough. After attending a preliminary round of the Miche Rock Festival several weeks ago, I went to the finals on Friday night with some co-workers. There had been several preliminary rounds, with the top 2 bands from each making it to the final. I had enjoyed the one round I went to, so I thought the finals would be great! Well, they were great... they just didn't go as long as they were supposed to. But we'll get to that part later.

Before I take you inside, I have to tell you about the coat check. Coat check? What are you talking about, Xave? Isn't it like 32˚ every day? Why yes, Xave-pretending-to-be-a-reader, that is true. There wasn't a coat check - instead, there was a mandatory belt check! I had to give my belt to a chick, not at a station or anything, just a chick who walked around collecting all belts. Seemed like a scam, but she had lots of belts already, so I relented, even though I was wearing unfortunately-too-big-around-the-waste-or-maybe-I've-just-lost-weight? pants.

It was a pretty good sized crowd, as you can see. The grandstand was separated from the ground floor by a fence - both areas were free, but you needed a VIP pass to get onto the ground. A co-worker of mine does media work for one of the bands, so I had the good fortune of being in said VIP area.

The first couple bands were solid, if somewhat generic. They each had their moments, and I enjoyed both, and with the knowledge that a couple of awesome bands were coming later, I knew I was in for a great evening of music.

The stage

The third band was the first metal band of the evening, and obviously their name was Existential Hate.

I have to go off on a bit of a tangent here. Metal is extremely popular here, and clearly this came as a huge surprise to me. I think I've figured out why it's so popular, though: there are those who like the popular music of the region, which includes salsa, reggaeton, merengue, latin pop, and a couple of regional styles of music called vallenato and cumbia, and then there are those who reject the pop music. I'm sure this is not an unfamiliar concept. However, it seems like there is only one acceptable way to reject pop music, and that is to listen to anything hard: hard rock (lots of my students love AC/DC, Guns 'n Roses, Metallica, etc.), metal, death metal.

It's ironic, of course, that the very people who claim to reject conformity are so conformy themselves, but once again, this is nothing new, and I don't want to get into a whole commentary about it, because I really don't care that much - it's just an observation. The point is simply to paint you a picture of the crowd at this event - almost uniformly metal-heads. As someone who preferred the straight-up rock, reggae and ska bands, I felt like a bit of an outsider, despite the fact that these bands made up the majority of the show.

So anyway, as soon as Existential Hate was announced, people started teeming over the fence like despair over a German comedian in Israel. This is the best picture I got, but it was certainly not taken at the peak of the deluge.

There were too many people, and too few unprepared cops, for anything to be done, and soon there was a full-blown hockey-style mosh pit (where people just run and body-check each other - maybe this is just regular mosh pit? I don't know, I don't go to a lot of mosh pits). I didn't mind - it was easy to avoid by staying around the fringes, and it actually gave me some entertainment, since the band sucked.

Tangent time again: I don't listen to a lot of hard rock/metal, and I don't listen to any death metal, but I try to stay open - some of those bands are pretty good. I like Metallica, I like Dream Theater, I've liked other bands that I've heard here and there but couldn't name. But this band (and the one that came later, which was obviously called Vicious Circle (actually Circulo Vicioso, but you know)), just wasn't very good, and it really reinforced the notion that the whole metal thing around here is just another clique. Once again, I'm not passing judgment - I just think it's interesting.

After another straight-up rock band played (and played a pretty impressive cover of Led Zeppelin's Rock and Roll, with an amazing female singer), it was time for the band I was most excited about - the one K, E and I had all agreed was the best of the preliminary round we saw. They're a reggae band called Doris Vespa (you should click on that link just to look at their MySpace page - it's by far the most beautifully designed MySpace page I've ever seen) who are from right here, Barranquilla.

Doris Vespa was pretty good on Friday, but they didn't really live up to my expectations. After a number of high-energy acts, the laid back groove of their opening song didn't capture the crowd until about mid-way through, when they displayed a picture of Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez with an X through it, and repeated the line "we don't need no Chavez" or something to that effect several times. (that was awesome, though)

Even though they didn't impressa me much, I remain a fan. They have a great guitar player (shown below), and really cool instrumentation: drums, bass, auxiliary percussion, guitar, trumpet, flute, 2 back-up singer chicks. Also: their lead singer is the Colombian Patrick. (see the MySpace page for further evidence, as this isn't a great pic)

Eschuchen, señoras!

the guitarist - hmm, he's skinny, plays guitar and has a lot of hair... Colombian Adam?

I don't see any bacon though...

When the next band came on, things got a little rougher. But you'll have to come back tomorrow to find out about it! Stay tuned - tomorrow, Xave's Xlog presents My First Riot, Part II.

Kicked in the Nuts

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Most Fridays, the teachers at school get a soccer game going after school. I've participated three times so far - the first time was just teachers, 5 on 5, the second time was a bigger game, teachers vs. janitors, 7 on 7 on an expanded "pitch" (more of a court), and today was the third match, this time teachers vs. students from grades 10 and 12, 6 on 6.

(Today's match also happened to be much earlier than usual, because of a school-wide power outage (not the first time this year) which started around 8:30, and by the time it was back on at 12:30, the students had gone home early.)

I look forward to these matches every week - as most of you probably know, I love to play sports, and this is the only regularly scheduled sport I've got going on right now. One week I even stayed like half an hour after school in expectation, only to discover everyone else had left.

Now, in week 1 I was pretty bad. I mean, I'm a decent athlete, but I don't play soccer very often - I don't think I had played in 2 or 3 years, and when I have played it's usually been smaller games, like 2 on 2 or 3 on 3, with friends who are equally inexperienced.

Let me tell you, Colombians are great at soccer! I'm sure that doesn't come as a surprise, but it really is amazing how every single kid here (I am not exaggerating, at least with respect to the boys in my grade 8 classes, all of whom I've seen play) knows the game quite well, and even though you're always bound to find a spectrum of athleticism and coordination, every kid somehow makes it work and is pretty darn good.

So when it came time to lace 'em up in game 1, I quickly discovered that being able to run fast and kick the ball hard have almost nothing to do with playing soccer. I lacked that inate sense of the game that one only gains through experience.

By game 3 (today), though, I made some progress. Actually, that's a bit of an understatement - of our team's 10 goals, I scored 4 and assisted 2. Of course, what that actually means is that, on four separate occasions, I happened to be standing in front of the net when the ball magically appeared at my foot, and two other times I accidentally tripped over the ball, causing it to somehow ricochet in the general direction of a teammate, who made some amazing play and scored.

I really do notice the improvement, though. Especially in the area of not making idiotic mistakes and losing the ball because of accidentally kicking the air instead of the ball and then pulling a cartoon-feet-up-in-the-air fall.

I still have a long way to go, though. There are lots of skills I can't perform, and instincts I haven't developed. For example, today there was a ball that found its way into the air and was coming down near where I was. Taking the ball on the body and then subsequently gaining control of it is one skill I've developed somewhat reasonably, so this is what I attempted to do.

Unfortunately, the choice of what part of the body to block the ball with is not an instinct I have, apparently. You know what's coming. I went to stop the ball's flight with my crotchal region, while an opponent simultaneously went for the mid-air kick. The good news: I got to the ball before he did. The bad news: He got to the balls before I did. It was hard, and it was not in the least off-center. Kicked in the nuts!

This kid knows what I'm talking about.

You Know What's the Worst?

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When the phone rings in the other room and then you have to run to grab it because it's on silent mode and you only barely heard it meaning it might already have been ringing for a while and so because you're running you stub your baby toe and it hurts for a couple minutes but it's actually not that bad but then a week later you realize it still hurts so maybe you should get it looked at so then the school nurse wraps it up the result of which is that it hurts much more than it did before it got treated and then you have to walk with a limp for the rest of the day and because walking with a limp is an unnatural motion you wake up the next day with a pulled muscle in your leg because of the limping.

Man, it happens to me ALL THE TIME.

Today is a Good Day I Think For Some Blogging

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...to paraphrase the immortal T-Rex.

In reality, today is just a good day in general, not only for blogging. For existing, I guess!

Why, you ask? Well, there are several reasons.

First, today I got a battery! No, I don't have an Energizer Bunny fetish. It wasn't just any battery; it was a battery for the pick-up in my new guitar! Now I can plug it in to the speakers that K graciously gave me, and I basically have an amp. In fact, I was so happy that I could amplify that I made up a song! Have a listen!

Sorry if you were expecting something different based on the photos.

The second thing that is great about today is very similar to the first! In the same shopping trip in which I bought the aforementioned battery, I also finally got around to buying a cord that can connect my computer/iPod to the speakers. Only, I got the wrong cord, and had to run back on a second trip, but it all worked out, and I am now the proud owner of a brand new headphone jack -> stereo converter, as well as a brand new completely superfluous other cord.

Check out all my new technology!

The next piece of good news is probably the one I'd been waiting the longest for. On the night I moved into my apartment, I had a terrible sleep, for 2 reasons: first, my pillow was very thick (I'm a thin pillow guy) - I've since fixed that problem by cutting open my pillow and ripping out about half the fluff. Second, my mattress was way too soft - unsleepably soft. Since that first night, I've been sleeping on a tiny mattress that was under the main mattress of my guest room bed, placed on the floor beside my actual bed frame.

Well, today I finally got a new mattress! Check it out, with my old sleeping arrangement beside:

Lastly, today I played baseball for the first time in like 2 months! It wasn't exactly what I'm used to when I go out for some ball - among the people I was playing with was a 5 year old, so I wasn't exactly dialing my fastball up to 65 or launching moonshots over the infield, but it was something. And it felt great.

Today wasn't all great, though. I went to the school nurse because my baby toe was in pain - about a week ago I stubbed it, and though it hurt a lot for a couple minutes, I didn't think much of it until I realized today that it still hurt despite being a week later. The nurse wrapped it and the toddler toe in a bandage and told me to shower with a bag on my foot (let's be honest, that's gonna be fun) while keeping it on for 3 days. Hopefully it heals - but while it's healing, it hurts a lot more than it did before. When she first wrapped it I had to walk with a noticeable limp for a couple hours, and though it's somewhat better now, it's still a lot more painful than it was before the treatment.

Also: the nurse did a great job of wrapping the toes in skin-coloured bandage, so it looks like I have some sort of weird, huge hybrid toe on my right foot. Look:

I was concerned about wearing my sandals when I went shopping for the cords, since I assumed people wouldn't be able to stop staring at my freak four-toed foot, and then would assume that all Canadians had this deformity, and I didn't want to give you guys that unfair reputation! But never fear, it turns out my baby toe doesn't come out at the top of the sandal.

Oh yeah, one other not as great thing that happened today: I picked up some food from the local corner store, and upon arriving in my kitchen, discovered the hard way that one bag of pasta was already open.

Yes, that's 3 different vertical layers of pasta spillage. Oh well. Pasta Mañana, blog readers! chuckle chuckle chuckle chuckle chuckle

Colombiana Part I

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This was one of my first ideas for a blog post when I started Colombia Blogging, and I thought it would become a frequent feature - a random collection of little differences I've noticed. It's not that there aren't tons of them, I guess I just a) keep forgetting to write them down, b) incorporate them into other posts or c) in certain area, like public transportation and technology, there are so many little differences that I'm going to eventually make them their own posts. Anyway, on a Monday after 7 days of intense Taganga Blogging, I didn't feel like putting much thought into the old Xlog, so I turned to a half-finished post. Here's hoping I can think of enough to finish the rest.

Without further ado, 10 peculiarities of Colombia! Or, at least, 10 things that seem peculiar after living in Canada for 22 years.

• In baseball broadcasts, they write a player's game-record backwards! I just saw "Melky Cabrera - Esta Noche - 3-0". 3 hits in no at bats... nice work, Melky.

• The website of the Colombian soccer league (which is called Copa Mustang, or Mustang Cup, sponsored by Mustang cigarettes - there are a couple interesting differences here, first that a major sports championship is named after a corporate sponsor, as opposed to the World Series or Stanley Cup, though I guess golf has the whole corporate sponsor thing going too, so it's not a huge difference, but secondly that the corporate sponsor is a tobacco company) requires you to enter your age. Apparently, you must be 18+ to view the standings, stats, etc... I have no idea why.

• The 2-L coke bottles are bigger! That sentence doesn't make any sense. The 2-L coke bottles are not bigger. There aren't any 2-L coke bottles. There are 2.5-L coke bottles though.

• Speaking of pop, apple pop is pretty common (it's red... other than that, no word on what type of apple is used). I've had apple pop before, it's just a lot more common here.

• There are a lot of mimes here. Or maybe there's just one who I see every day because he's always at the same intersection between my house and the bus stop. Also, there was one at school day for World Peace Day (umm, because if you can't talk, you can't fight?). But they're not really mimes: they have this weird little squeaky thing that sounds like a super fast forwarded voice, so they pretend to talk and then squeak instead. I've had a couple of squeaking conversations which have probably been better understood by both parties than most of my actual conversations around here.

• As I've blogged about before, there is no shortage of huge Wal-Mart like superstores (there are 2 in the mall 3 blocks from my apartment), and this is where I did most of my initial shopping, but as I've gotten to know the city better, I've discovered that there are smaller general stores, called tiendas, everywhere. And the great thing about tiendas (not that I've taken advantage of it) is that you can order anything for delivery, for about 3 bucks.

• The question of whether Colombia is significantly cheaper than Canada is trickier than you might think. Certain things, like rent (in my part of the city at least), utilities, fast food restaurants, and some groceries, are about the same, while others, like transportation, other groceries, and street food, are way cheaper.

• E already blogged about this, but you can pay bills at supermarkets.

• I'm sure this doesn't come as a surprise to you, but there is a most definite lack of recycling. You see it every now and then in modern-ish buildings, but there isn't any at my building, at the school, and certainly not on the street.

• Related to the last one, there is definitely no garbage limit (at my building, when you have garbage to rid yourself of, you just take it out to a huge dumpster outside which isn't even part of the building - just a public dumpster I guess), but despite this ability to put as much as you want in the designated garbage bins, there's still trash lying everywhere.

Okay, that's 10 I think! Sorry for the lack of witty commentary on most of these. I used my entire wit quota for the day during class today when I turned my triangle-shaped ruler into a gun and pretend-shot all my kids as they came in. It was awesome.

Taganga Episode VII: Wrap-Up

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This week is "Taganga Week" at Xave's Xlog. Check it out:

Taganga Episode I: The Trailer

Taganga Episode II: The Town

Taganga Episode III: Wildlife

Taganga Episode IV: Cacti

Taganga Episode V: Sunday

Taganga Episode VI: The Recovery

What a week at the old Xlog! How did I stretch one weekend out of town into 7 full days of blogging, you ask? Well, it takes a special talent. I just have a knack for finding the boring in everything. Anyway, today's post is devoted to mentioning smaller things that weren't worthy of their own full post.

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I don't eat fish. Or any seafood. The reason is simply that I don't like it. However, I've never liked seafood, so I eat it so rarely I don't even know what some things taste like. Therefore, I've made it my mission to try some seafood while I'm living on a coast. So, on Saturday night, I had this for dinner:

This is a very common meal 'round these parts: fish (I don't know what kind), with lime to squeeze on top, coconut rice, patacones (fried green plantains - green meaning they're not sweet plantains), and a salad consisting mostly of lettuce and onions.

And at the risk of sounding totally cliché, it wasn't that bad! I almost ate the whole fish. I probably ate parts I wasn't supposed to eat, too.

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Anticipating I would do some hiking while in Taganga, I brought my running shoes along in addition to my sandals. But I forgot to bring socks. Good work, Dave. So, as it turns out, climbing a steep foothill with no paths while wearing sandals isn't the greatest idea. There were several occasions in which I nearly became an avalanche. H

Speaking of avalanches, here's a formation I found which I assumed to be the work of avalanches.

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I had a fun time getting home on Sunday. First I took a small bus from Taganga to Santa Marta, followed by a moto-taxi to the bus terminal in Santa Marta, followed by an inter-city bus to Barranquilla. All of these things were documented yesterday.

That wasn't the end of the journey, though. After retrieving my iPod, I was determined to figure out how to take the bus back to my part of Barranquilla rather than paying for a more expensive taxi. This proved difficult, as I got wildly varying opinions from the locals.

After a cat and mouse game of seeing the bus go by on the other side of the street and going to that side only to watch a bus zip by where I had just been standing, I decided to see how much the moto would cost. The first guy I asked flat out refused to go to where I wanted to go. The second guy quoted a price that was almost as high as taking a cab. Soon, I somehow found myself among a group moto drivers, asking all of them simultaneously if they would take me where I wanted to go at the price I wanted to pay. This was an unproductive bargaining session, because I just kept saying my price, and I'm pretty sure their response was something completely incongruous. Here is how the conversation might have gone (honestly, I have no idea):

Me: I need to go to Buena Vista.

Them: We don't go to Buena Vista.

Me: How about 5000 (pesos)?

Them: That's way lower than we would accept, even if we did drive people to Buena Vista. Generally, if you're trying to convince someone to perform a service for you that is outside of their regular duties, it's not a good idea to make your offer less attractive in an attempt to convince them to perform said service.

Me: What if I paid you 5000?

Them: You already said that.

Me: 5000? Yes? No?

Them (to each other): Maybe he means 5000 dollars? I wouldn't put it past this guy to actually pay us 5000 dollars.

Me: Do you go to Buena Vista? What about for 5000?

One of Them: okay, just get on, I'll take you to, umm, Buena Vista, yeah, haha, that's right. Cough.

Me: 5000, right?

That Guy: yeah, um, right.

So anyway, That Guy drove me a few blocks (for 2000 - $1), and then waited with me for, I assumed, a bus. Turned out he was waiting for a new form of transportation I hadn't even been on yet - a taxi with a little trailer on the back of it, and several people already in the taxi, so it was really carrying like 8 people. The moto guy said something to the driver, so I assumed I'd be taken to Buena Vista.

Nope. I got about halfway there, but not before one of the guys in the trailer almost got in a fight with the driver over, well, I have no idea, obviously. But I did exchange eye rolls with the guy beside me. Even if I didn't know what was going on, I played the social situation to a tee. Smooth, Dave.

Anyway, I had no idea where I was when the cab driver told me he wasn't going any farther (i.e. when he kicked me out), so I just found a cab, which was the thing I was trying to avoid in the first place.

In the end, in getting from door to door, I took a small bus, a moto, a big bus, another moto, a shared taxi, and a private taxi. 6 things! That's a lot.

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E and K (twice) both blogged about Taganga, so if you just haven't gotten enough over the past seven days and 8 million words here at XX, check them out. We didn't spend much time together over the weekend, so they have lots of different stuff.

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This isn't Taganga-related, but sometime in the last couple days, the little visitor counter on the right side (if you scroll down) crossed the 1000 mark! Sweet, thanks guys! (And that's just 1000 since I installed the counter, which was 3 or 4 weeks ago.) I'm sure most of those are mom and me though.

Also, after a 2 or 3 week absence, I finally got internet at home today. So that means lots more bloggggggg!

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Finally, here are some more pictures from Taganga.

Upon climbing the foothills beside Taganga, I was amazed to discover I could see Santa Marta. I suppose I shouldn't have been so surprised since I knew it was only about 5km away, but I was so disoriented when we arrived I had no idea which direction we had come from, so suddenly seeing a huge city just over the hills was a pretty startling sight.

It thought this house looked like Lego.

A shot of Taganga from above.

A cool tree.

Triangle hills.

Taganga Episode VI: The Recovery

Note - this blog is automatically imported into facebook, but unfortunately it loses some formatting in the process. Click here to visit the real thing.

This week is "Taganga Week" at Xave's Xlog. Check it out:

Taganga Episode I: The Trailer

Taganga Episode II: The Town

Taganga Episode III: Wildlife

Taganga Episode IV: Cacti

Taganga Episode V: Sunday

After Sunday's activities I took a quick swim in the hostel pool, then packed up my stuff and headed out in search of a bus stop. I quickly found myself on a little van bus, sitting in a seat directly next to the door which stayed open (or didn't exist?) throughout the winding, somewhat mountainous drive back to Santa Marta. Eventually, after everyone else had exodused, the bus driver told me to get off, assuring me the bus station was nearby, and I'd just have to take a cheap moto-taxi. I had never taken one before, but it was fast, and fun, and soon I was on a bus back to Barranquilla. (note: these buses have air conditioning, a TV constantly going, and drinks/snacks available, and cost less than a $5, and this is a 2 hour trip we're talking about. Greyhound could learn a thing or two)

After watching the news cycle a couple of times, I got bored, despite the fact that I probably needed a few more watches to understand what was going on, so I got out my iPod which I had brought along precisely for this situation. In the summer, I discovered eBooks on my iPod, so I flipped open to my current iPod book (I do most of my reading on my computer, so I've got 2 books going simultaneously - the iPod one is more of a long-term effort since I don't use it often), Les Miserables. I read for most of the trip, but as we entered Barranquilla I set it down so I could try to figure out where we were/where to get off.

Of course, I should have realized that since the bus comes into a part of the city I am totally unfamiliar with, my decision about when to get off would likely be spur of the moment, triggered by the first thing I recognize. This is exactly what happened, and as you can probably guess, I left my iPod sitting right there on the seat.

Naturally, I didn't realize what I had done at first since I was pre-occupied trying to figure out where the bus back to my part of the city stopped. Eventually I figured out the guys were telling me I was in the right place, I just might have to wait a few minutes since it was Sunday night, hence infrequent service.

(I could have just taken a taxi and avoided all this hassle, but buses are cheaper, and I like taking them anyway, I find it's one of the best ways to learn a city. In the end, it's a very good thing I didn't hop in the first taxi I found.)

That's when I remembered the last place I had put my iPod.

I panicked, but when I looked down the street, the bus was, miraculously, still within eyeshot. So I started sprinting after it as it pulled away from the curb and turned onto some sort of on-ramp. I followed the bus' future path and discovered it was about to a complete 180 on a sort of cloverleaf construction. I still had hope! I could simply run across and cut the bus off.

Unfortunately, it was a little too quick - I shouted and waved, but wasn't quite at the other side when the bus passed in front of me. Once again, I didn't give up - I looked to where the bus was headed next in hopes that I could attempt a similar maneuver.

This time, though, the outlook was bleak. There was no cloverleaf, and no bus stop that I could see nearby. It was on a fairly major street, too, with little traffic. It looked like it would just blast straight down the road, into the horizon, and out of my hopes and dreams.

I kept going in the bus' direction, but slowed to a walk, having given up. I half-heartedly checked my bag just to make sure I hadn't subconsciously thrown it in there in my haste to get off the bus, but I knew in my heart (well, really in my head) that the search was fruitless. It was over: the hardly used iPod Touch I had been given by a friend this past summer was gone forever.

But then, I saw the bus stop some 200m ahead of me. Once again, I broke into a dead run, and this time, luckily, whatever the bus had stopped for was taking its sweet time, and I managed to catch up before it headed off again! Relief swept over me like a broom over a floor (get it?).

But when I returned to my seat, there was nothing there. I turned to the girls across the aisle to ask them if they had seen anything, but all I could do in my panicky state was attempt to translate sign language into Spanish, which resulted in confused stares.

Just then, the bus operator (different from bus driver) emerged from the cabin (yeah) and handed me the iPod.

Success! I had left something valuable on a bus, and knowing there was likely no other way of retrieving it, had literally chased the bus down. Nice work, Dave. Tu eres el hombre. (As you can probably guess, this translates to 'you are the man', which isn't a thing in Spanish, but I'm trying to get in the habit of directly translating English slang into Spanish, because it's fun)