Buenaventura's dirty delights

It shouldn’t come as a major surprise to regular readers that we’re not averse to squalid settings every now and again. It’s just as well, of course, for as beautiful as Colombia is in a natural sense, many — but not all it must be said — of its urban dwellings make European rubbish tips seem idyllic. 

Last year we had the pleasure of checking out two such ‘dirty towns’, Turbo (see 'Turbo Living' http://bit.ly/SVtkWW) and Maicao (see 'Dirty Old Town' http://bit.ly/VG94Ho). You could also throw a large portion of Bogotá – our home, on and off, for the last 15 months – onto this list.*

Adding a bit of colour to the natural environment.

It’s not that we enjoy the dirt or take some sort of perverted satisfaction from seeing it strewn about the place, far from it. But scrape back a bit of the material waste and in most of these places — less so, perhaps, in the sprawling metropolis of Bogotá — you’ll find extremely friendly, laid-back people (laid-back to the point that collecting rubbish is seen as a waste of time — ‘Sure won’t Mother Nature break it down after a while?’) with what appears to be a generally healthy attitude to life.

So sticking to type, this is pretty much what we found in Colombia’s Pacific coast city of Buenaventura. 

Now, it was for reasons of transport that we had to pass through the place, our final destination being Bahía Solano, a tranquil little coastal town further north, reachable only — unless, that is, you fancy a wild trek through inhospitable jungle (next time) — by boat or plane (we took the former option, hence the stop in Buenaventura).

In fairness, and as is the case with Turbo and Maicao, the fact that most of the respected travel books on Colombia suggest giving the city a wide berth or if you have to stay for some reason then just make it brief, we were always tempted to check it out on its own merits. Not just using it as a transport hub that is.

Indeed, it does still see a fair number of visitors. And mirroring Colombia as a whole this number is increasing all the time, although many of these are just passing through, visiting some of the beaches that are short speedboat rides away (our destination of Bahía Solano, on the other hand, is a much longer trip – more on that in the coming weeks). 

The fact that it is also the most important port city on the country’s Pacific coast means that it gets plenty of sailors coming and going, too. So foreign faces are not uncommon.

Well, at least there's a positive outlook as regards the rubbish.

It is, though, home to a large number of Afro-Colombians, so the whiter your skin, the more you stand out. This can be both a good and bad thing. Good in so far as people like to talk with you, from a single-male perspective that can be very positive. Bad in the sense that, as happens in many places across the globe, some people here equate white skin with lots of money. If only they knew. 

 

Thankfully, such negative attention wasn’t very prevalent during our short stay there. In fact, our previous view that Afro-Colombians are the least friendly of the ethnic groups that live in the country was pleasantly altered. They can still be, however, a little disobliging when it comes to bus journeys. We all have our flaws.

It has been said that the city is the capital of arguably one of Colombia’s strongest underground exports — prostitutes.** From what we witnessed, it’s hard to disagree (wait a second, is that why the women were so friendly?). There were many of them ‘playing the game’ in any case. Throw in the fact that one of the semi-respectable hotels we stayed in seemed to double up as a brothel and you begin to see the importance of the industry to the place. 

Mentioning hotels, we must give a plug to ‘Hospedaje Bahia Mar’. At the equivalent of about US$8 a night, it’s one of the best value-for-money spots we’ve stayed at in Colombia. And sticking with the sex-tourism theme, it’s the only hotel/hostel we’ve been in that has a porn channel free to watch on your bedroom TV. How thoughtful.

What’s more, the first guy we befriended, a very helpful lad at that, seemed to be some sort of a pimp. Each to their own and all that. 

On a broader scale, this is the place where many of these ladies of the night learn their trade before hitting for the traditionally economically stronger Latin American countries. Chances are if you meet a Colombian prostitute in the likes of Brazil or Chile, she more than likely hails from Buenaventura or its surrounds.

The seaside park is relatively nice.

Outside of all that, in terms of what to do in the city itself, well there’s not an awful lot. Granted, our stay was limited to the centre, the part nearest the sea/port (the city is divided into two parts, joined by a bridge).

But from what we saw in passing of the outer part of the city, much of it resembles a shanty town and didn’t look that appealing. At least in the centre there’s a seaside park and accompanying views of the ocean. 

If you can find a half-clean park bench to sit on it’s a relatively nice place to read a book and watch boats sail in and out in the muggy afternoon heat. 

There’s also Zona Franca, the city’s duty-free zone in a sense, where you can do some bargain hunting for all sorts of goods if that’s your thing. For us, the cheap eats and drinks that can be found in the place were very satisfying, along, of course, with the aforementioned friendly locals.

As for the dirt, sure no place is perfect.

* For more on Bogotá's rubbish, see 'Petrograd - Colombia's new capital?' http://bit.ly/U4ViiJ & 'Small steps to a cleaner, greener Bogotá?' http://bit.ly/WFOPsW

** For related articles on prostitutes in Colombia, see "Bienvenidos a Medellin - 'Bangkok Light'" http://bit.ly/N83NbB & 'What a mother hooker!' http://bit.ly/XEAefP

Bogotá's transport truths

In every country, there are things that you get great pleasure from and things that utterly frustrate you. Some of those in the latter category are uncontrollable, such as weather and geographical features. 

Others though, especially human-related, can be altered in a positive way. That is, of course, if the desire exists. 

"I tried, but they just don't get it." Mrs Orangutan.

On all of the above, Colombia is no different to any other place. We have written on many occasions about a difference in attitude as regards relationships, in both friendship and romance, that exists here – a less honest one, perhaps, than what we are accustomed to (see http://bit.ly/LbcE9V & http://bit.ly/NsJyB5). 

This time around we’re looking at an area far less emotional but just about as frustratingly baffling. Let’s call it Colombia’s – or more specifically Bogotá’s – transport etiquette or lack thereof.

Now, before we get into it, we must state that we’re coming at this from, in the main, a country, rural perspective. So the impersonality and one-upmanship of a metropolis is still something we’re getting used to, if we ever do. 

That’s not to say, though, we’re ‘green’ on this front – far from it. We’ve seen enough of busy transport networks in both Medellín and Santiago de Chile, amongst others, to know it doesn’t have to be the ‘Bogotá Way’.

Take the Transmilenio (TM for short), the city’s pretty tame version of a metro. On the face of it this trams-on-wheels service should work sufficiently. 

It’s straightforward to use, serves a decent area of the city (the airport and its main artery apart – give it time, though, it’s in the pipeline, seriously) and is relatively cheap. The fact that it’s severely under-capacity, even at off-peak times, doesn’t help things, but that’s not something we’re discussing right now. 

In any case, that it’s struggling to cope with current passenger numbers is no excuse for the lack of basic manners by a large number of its users. Borneo’s orangutans would put many of these commuters to shame. Sorry, you’re right, that’s a bit unfair to our intelligent primate cousins.
 

There are two related behavioural patterns by TM users that irk us. 

Firstly, while waiting at the station, people will stand in front of the entry/exit doors in a bid to be in a prime position when their bus arrives. 

The fact that there might be at least five arrivals before the bus they need pulls up doesn’t seem to bother them. No, they just stand there like dummies, making the fluid movement of other passengers extremely difficult. Cattle mart stuff. Their obvious lack of intelligence means they mustn’t realise the inconvenience created by their frozen-like stance.

'Going nowhere fast' - passengers waiting to board a Transmilenio.

So while it can be an almighty struggle just to get on the bus when/if you squeeze in, you’re faced with the on-board version of the muppets at the station. 

People – we use that word loosely here – who will not move away from the TM door. 

Again, they may not be actually getting off until later stops, but they ‘must’ stay right at the door, even when there is space further inside, for fear that they’ll miss their destination. Some even take umbrage if you politely ask them to move aside while you’re battling to board. Wonders never cease.

Bogotá’s other main public transport system – colectivos and busetas, the standard South American city buses – is perhaps more representative of Colombian life in general. That is, it’s a contradictory muddle of the delightful and the truly irritating. 

For one there exists this strange habit for local commuters to opt for the aisle sit. Not a big deal you might say, but when you consider that there’s more room to manoeuvre in a rugby scrum than in many of these buses, things can get tricky. 

Throw in the reluctance of many aisle-seat occupiers to stand up to allow you pass to the window seat and it all gets a bit messy. It’s much easier to either move in or stand up to let someone by but it seems some Bogotá bus users love to have random people’s bums shoved in their faces. It’s not something we’re keen on, however. 

Usually it's better to take a colectivo. Sometimes, though, it's best to walk.

Contrast that with the very honest (no, that’s not a typo) practice when the bus is packed, as frequently happens. Passengers will board via the exit door at the back, passing their fare via a chain of people to the bus driver. If there’s change to be given, it will come back down along the chain to the passenger. Wonderful.

Then there are the bus ‘drivers’ – themselves not immune to such paradoxes. That they speed around like rally drivers high on cocaine can be both a good and bad thing. 

If you’re in a hurry, it can feel like they’re trying to get you to your destination asap. But the constant sharp breaking and swerving – well, let’s just say it puts some of the world’s best roller coasters to shame. 

Add in the occasional road-rage exchange with a counterpart and the result is a potent mix. Passenger safety how do. When these guys’ blood is up, their vehicle becomes a weapon. You’ve just got to hope that your driver comes out on the winning side.

Yet despite all this, most of these conductores still have the heart to allow you jump on their bus for just two-thirds of the standard fare. All you have to do is wave a 1,000 pesos (less than €0.50) note at them, the recognised sign that you can’t afford more, and usually you can jump on, no hassle. This we very much like. 

Indeed, all things considered, we find the colectivo experience far more acceptable – and cheaper – than the Transmilenio one. Just mind your bum when taking that window seat.

What a mother hooker!

There seems to be a lot of outcry in the United States over this ‘Secret Service Prostitute Scandal’, as it’s being dubbed. 

On the face of it, you can – kind of – understand why for many this story is so shocking. Undercover agents working to ensure President Barack Obama’s safety during his recent visit to Cartagena, on Colombia’s Caribbean coast, hiring ‘escort girls’ and then not having the decency to pay them the, allegedly, agreed fee. Not the kind of publicity the White House is looking for, is it?

'Looking for something, pretty boy?' 'Eh, no thanks.'

We don’t know yet – and we probably never will – what exactly happened on the night/early morning in question. Yes, the 24-year-old mother at the centre of all this has given her account of things. That’s just one side of the story, though, of course – and a Colombian woman’s one at that. 

Most of the flak in the media and general public is aimed, rightfully so you might say, at the US agents for a number of reasons. 

These are, namely, that they procured the services of prostitutes (albeit in a country where such practices are legal), they were drunk and they showed a complete lack of professional judgement with their actions, thus embarrassing their president and their country. On that last point, don’t worry USA, we think as much as you now as we ever did in the past – perhaps even a bit more.

OK, criticism one, the guys hired hookers. Well, we’re not up on the staffing of the men in question, but if they happened to be on ‘free time’ when all this happened, are they not entitled to do what they want, especially legal activities? 

Here’s another point to consider, though. Maybe they didn’t know the girls were ‘escorts’, as they describe themselves – distinct from prostitutes that now, these girls are much classier operators. 

Colombia is famous – Cartagena and Medellín in particular (see previous posts ‘Bienvenidos a Medellin – Bangkok Light’ http://bit.ly/IhlErq & ‘The Wages of Love’ http://bit.ly/IeUXji for related stories) – for such ‘gringo hunters’. These are women who come across as normal (is there such a thing?), just out for a night out trying to ‘score’ a man or two, as happens in every place in the world. 

However, what these ladies usually won’t tell you is that they want to get directly paid for their services – by whatever means they can get it. They don’t tend to introduce themselves as prostitutes or escorts, giving you their business cards in the process. No, that wouldn’t be the smartest move for picking up now, would it? 

They’re much sneakier than that. They’ve perfected the art of being ‘genuine’ so skillfully that we’ve witnessed people who are fully sober as well as street-wise Colombian natives getting duped by them. 

Yes, you can say secret service personnel should be a bit savvier, but we have to remember that there were at least two bottles of vodka thrown into the equation.

A Caribbean beach rub - far less hassle & cheaper than troublesome 'escorts'.

This brings us nicely to the second major condemnation of the men in question, that they were drunk. This one we find more incriminating than the fact they were, knowingly or unknowingly, sleeping with prostitutes. Why? Well, as the Latin phrase goes, ‘in vino veritas’, ‘in wine there is truth’. 

So regardless of the fact that the guys may have been on a night off, it doesn’t seem very prudent as an undercover agent, whose job it is to look after the President of the USA in what many think is a volatile country (we don’t), to be out knocking down copious amounts of alcohol. 

James Bond might have had the odd vodka and Martini – shaken, not stirred – but we can’t recall him ever getting too inebriated, while Jason Bourne always kept his wits about him. Alas, these real-life professional agents let such standards (and their trousers) slip for a few hours – a faux pas which has already cost a number of them their careers.

In the grand scheme of things, however, do their actions really warrant sacking? It’s safe to say that there are far worse activities being carried out by US secret agents and military personnel across the globe. 

Heck, the ladies involved in this ‘scandal’ still got paid decent loot for their services – US$225 for a few hours' work is more than they would make in a normal week or month even. 

Perhaps we should direct our anger at the greed of the woman who looked for US$800. Bet she didn’t even buy a drink all night. Disgraceful.   

Bienvenidos a Medellín — 'Bangkok light'

As Colombia’s, officially speaking, second city, Medellín has plenty to offer. Indeed, for many visitors, it has no rival, not just in the country but even in South America. 

Dubbed the ‘City of Eternal Spring’, the climate is one of the most favourable you’ll get around these parts. The average annual temperature of 22 degrees Celsius ensures you don’t get the chills of Bogotá while it never gets as uncomfortably hot as it does on the Caribbean coast. 

This pleasant weather is thanks mostly to its position, 1,500 metres above sea level in the northern Andes, replete with a setting as stunning as any location across the globe. It has a relatively healthy mix of Western affluence and Latino colour while the city’s murky underworld past appears – on the surface at least – to have dissipated. 

Getting around the place couldn’t be easier with the very efficient integrated metro system. Indeed, we’re not aware of any other metropolis that offers a cable-car service as part of the everyday transportation system – a very cheap (less than US$1), safe and novel way to get stunning views of the city.

The high life: Medellin's cheap & efficient Metrocable.

All this and we haven’t even mentioned the natives, the ‘Paisas’ – for many, speaking from a male point of view, the main reason to come to Medellín and the surrounding areas. 

In a country famed for its gorgeous women, the Paisas are the crème de la crème - arguably one of the most attractive, distinct groups of people in the world. But what started out as a major pull factor, is now fast becoming a drawback for this beautiful city.

You see, once you’ve discovered you’ve got an asset, you can either nourish it or abuse it. Alas, for the Paisas, it seems a significant number is choosing the latter. It’s that age-old Latin American affliction – the desire for short-term gain to the detriment of long-term success. 

For many of Medellin’s stunning ladies, they’ve discovered there’s a quick buck to be made from their looks. So for a city that once prided itself on hard work and enterprise, many of its more prosperous barrios are following a more direct route to financial stability: sex tourism.

Of course, a market can only thrive if it has sufficient customers. This isn’t an issue here, especially considering Medellín’s relative proximity to the "big-money" players from North America. And once this industry kicks off – as any visitors to Thailand will tell you – it can be hard to curtail. 

Even if there is a genuine affection, a cash injection of some sort is expected. As far as the locals are concerned, not to do so would be criminal. In such an environment it is hard not to be cynical as regards finding true romance.

Now, not every Paisa woman is ‘playing the game’, so to speak. There is a handy scale in operation – not particularly Medellín specific – that’s worth bearing in mind:

At the lower end are the fours – these are your full-on prostitutes or pagadas, women you pay to accompany you for a period of time. This is a money-up-front job, no ambiguity here. 

Next, you have the threes – not quite prostitutes, but maybe more sinister. These will try to take money off you by stealth – for example, spike your drink and steal from you – and many are linked to Medellín’s mafia. You might "get lucky" once or twice with one of these, but they’re best to be avoided. 

The twos are less dangerous so to speak, but most in this bracket have a very hard time finding their purse. Plus, as far as these women are concerned, the idea of being faithful to somebody only exists in fairytales – especially if you are from the Western world.

Finally, we have the much sought-after, but lesser-spotted, ones. These tend to be from pretty well-off backgrounds and a little more conservative than the above. 

If you do manage to make it with a one, then you’ve pretty much made it. They’ll take you under their wing; insist on paying more than their fair share. Genuine sorts. A negative might be that they may try to over-mother you, but all done with the best of intentions.

As with any scale/theory, it’s open to interpretation and as ever there are exceptions for each category. However, it’s certainly a good guide to bear in mind. 

It was brought to our attention by the Basil Fawlty-styled owner of the delightful Arcadia Hostel in Medellín’s swanky Poblado district – an area renowned for its nightlife and the place where most tourists/extranjeros stay, making it the unofficial sex-tourism centre. 

Indeed, for many visitors on a short-term jaunt in the city, the party scene doesn’t go much further than there. If you get the chance, though, checking out some of the less-visited barrios is well worth it – things tend to be more authentic in such places, usually.

In any case, you’ve always got the cheap and cheerful Metrocable to enjoy.

At home with the Escobars

He has the blood — indirectly at least — of thousands of people on his hands. His business interests arguably ruined the lives of millions of families across the globe. He once had a bounty of US$10,000,000 on his head and spent twelve years in a maximum security prison. 

Yet today, for little over €20, you can "relax", have a coffee and spend an evening with this man in his middle-class Medellín estate.

Roberto Escobar may not have been ‘at the muscle end of his family’ — to paraphrase a quote from The Godfather movie, a very appropriate one considering the subject — but there is no doubting the significant role he played in helping Colombia's Medellín Cartel become one of the most powerful criminal gangs in the world. 

While it was his brother, the infamous late Pablo that was ‘El Don’, Roberto was the vicious drug lord’s accountant, PR man and lieutenant. 

Those heady days may be behind him, but Roberto is happy to talk glowingly about them to anyone who feels comfortable enough to listen. And there are many willing to do just that. 

It is testament to the global reach of the Escobar Empire that a tour bearing Pablo’s name and officially sanctioned by the family itself is one of the biggest draws on the tourist scene in Medellín these days. 

For many it is a chance to step inside a surreal world that you only ever before got glimpses of through books, movies and the like. 

When you first see Roberto shuffling his way to welcome you to his home-cum-museum, those familiar with the Italian-American mafia drama The Sopranos will be instantly reminded of the character Junior Soprano. 

Resemblances aside, the fact that Roberto is half-blind and half-deaf following a letter-bomb hit two weeks after his brother’s death in 1993 means he moves just as slow as the elderly Soprano, but not without an air of authority. 

World's Most Wanted - Roberto Escobar & Wrong Way with Pablo's first mugshot.

The house — Pablo’s last residence before he was killed — is best described as a shrine to the man who terrorised the lives of thousands of Colombians in the 1980s and early 90s. 

From his bullet-proof, made-to-order Chevrolet jeep to the glamorous portrait of his prized show horse Terremoto de Manizales, you get an idea of the lifestyle Pablo ‘enjoyed’ as head of what was once the world’s biggest cocaine-exporting mob. 

Of course, you cannot run a proscribed group without having a residence equipped with hidden chambers — for both human and monetary purposes — and this dwelling doesn’t disappoint on that front. Alas, any hidden money is long gone. And just to keep things current, the bullet holes from a 2010 failed kidnapping attempt on Roberto and his son have been left in tact by the family. 

Interesting as all that is, the biggest draw of the tour has to be Roberto himself, the man who knows Pablo as good as anyone. The chance to chat one-to-one and have your photo taken with the right-hand man of one of the worlds most notorious criminals is quite an experience, whatever your moral viewpoint on the subject. 

Indeed, if you are a little uneasy about such a tour, we have been assured that profits are put into community projects in the poorer barrios of Medellín, ensuring the Robin Hood image Pablo liked to portray remains alive and well. 

Now, you might think Roberto — who first came into the public domain as one of Colombia’s best cyclists — would use such an opportunity to show some remorse for the many crimes directly linked to the Escobar family. Not so. 

In our questions-and-answers session, afforded to all visitors, he tells us that his family were as much victims of the drugs war as anyone else. That viewpoint might be a bit hard to swallow for some. 

It’s quite obvious from the way he talks that he still has the utmost respect for his brother. 

Yes, Pablo did some very positive work for many of Medellín’s impoverished, maybe more so than the Government ever could – but you can also say that Hitler vastly improved the lives of many Germans in the 1930s. 

Unsurprisingly, Roberto believes that all drugs should be made legal. Not a unique view that, but maybe a tad ironic considering that the legalisation of cocaine would possibly have been the single biggest measure to curb the rise of the Escobar empire. That’s a debate for another day.

As for the letter-bomb attack on him in prison shortly after Pablo’s death, Roberto believes it was the Government that carried it out. Indeed, he puts the administration of that time as bigger enemies than the Cali Cartel, their chief rivals in the drugs trade. 

What about the whereabouts of the unaccounted millions of dollars made during Pablo’s prime? That information is gone to the grave with him, of course. 

There was never going to be any other answer than that. But it does open the door for the next novelty tour, ‘Finding Pablo’s Millions’. Remember where you read it first. 

Doing business in SA

‘South America: a great place to visit, just don’t do business with its inhabitants.’ That’s the common refrain you are likely to hear from Western-world expats settled in Latin America. 

Considering the genuine friendliness of the majority of its people coupled with the unforgettable delights of the land mass itself, such a statement may come as a surprise for those just passing through the Spanish-speaking countries here. But putting emotional ties aside and taking a deeper, colder look, perhaps we shouldn’t be too taken aback. 

Spending a little more time here than the average visitor and engaging in daily activities outside of the main tourist drag, you begin to see just why the majority of countries in South America have so far failed to realise their potential in an economic sense. 

Now, before you say this might be a bit rich coming from an Irishman given the perilous state of our own economy at present, it must be said that the resources — natural and otherwise — available to most of the Spanish-speaking nations here more than dwarf those at Ireland’s disposal. 

South America: A colourful place but tread carefully.

Part of the problem is the Spanish legacy. When you’re a descendant — as most of the power brokers in Latin America are — of a colonising race that put short-term gain over long-term sustainability, you’re coming from a shaky foundation. 

While the Spanish were not famed for leaving much behind in the lands they fleeced, one thing they did instil in South America is a greed mentality that blinkers foresight. Take what you can now, deal with the consequences later. Trouble is, because you plundered all you could from the get-go, you have nothing left to deal with those future problems.

Here’s a contemporary example of this sort of thinking in action. On a night out in Bogotá’s ‘hip’ Chapinero district with three fellow Europeans — two Dutch guys and a German — we wandered into one of the many bars/clubs in the area, looking for a few beers. Nothing out of the ordinary there, eh? 

Now, considering the night was young, it was beers we wanted at this stage — nothing stronger, just yet. And given that almost everybody in the place was doing just that — drinking beers — we didn’t expect any problems. 

How silly of us. With no other explanation other than the fact that we were different, i.e. not South American, never mind Colombian, we were told that the only alcohol we could purchase was bottles of spirits — the cheapest of those being rum at $50,000 Colombian pesos (roughly €20). 

While between four lads that price, relatively speaking, isn’t that much, the fact that practically all the other clientèle in the establishment were drinking beer, why discriminate against us? I mean, the bar staff were dishing out beer right in front of our eyes — it’s not like the place had run out of it or anything. 

You see this is where this skewed, suicidal business sense comes into play. The staff saw four 'rich' Westerners and thought ‘let's get what we can from them straight away’. 

Now, maybe some other extranjeros — foreigners if you will — would have caved in and bought the costlier spirits, but we are quite a principled bunch. 

So instead of them serving us four beers at $4,000 Colombian pesos (COP) a pop, with the likelihood that we would have had at least another four and, heck knows, considering the group of us in it, we would have ended up getting the rum too after the beers, the staff tried to pin us for the $50,000 COP straight up. 

Alas, for them, they got nothing. A complete lack of vision — their colonising forefathers would have been proud. By the way, this episode was replicated in other venues that night. At least Bogotá’s Institute of Harebrained Business Solutions is thriving.

Alongside the above practice is the apparent incapability of many Latinos to say they don’t know something. 

In all fairness, there is nothing sinister at work here. It’s just that they seem so anxious to help that they feel compelled to say something other than ‘I don’t know’ — and what they say, more often than not, ends up leading you astray. 

As an English friend mused, if you need to ask South Americans for directions, it’s best to ask at least four people and from that you might just be able to piece together the correct location; if you’re lucky.

Coupled with this inability to say ‘I don’t know’, is the rather more sinister trait of never admitting being wrong. Even with video evidence showing culpability, you’ll rarely hear a South American admitting he/she was at fault. A Bart Simpson style ‘I didn’t do it’ — except without the follow-up hit record and TV appearances (apologies non-Simpsons fans — this YouTube video should help put you in the picture). 

Considering their questionable business tactics, it should not surprise us too much that many here feel the best way to get out of a hole is to keep digging, at speed.

Hence, you ask, why would anyone want to relocate here on a long-term basis, with the idea of doing business?  

Well, we are generalising here — there are, thankfully, some notable exceptions to the above. On the whole, however, where money-making opportunities arise are in areas where the locals don’t have a decent grasp — many of these happen to be in the tourism sector – along with areas where outside influence is practically unavoidable, such as teaching English. 

So there are openings in South America for outsiders. It might be best, though, just not to tell the locals.

The wages of love

'There are two chief ways a man can have sex — pay for it or get it for free. I've come to the conclusion that it's cheaper in the long-term — and indeed short-term — to pay for it.'

Now, I won’t take credit for that quotation – nor indeed do I want to – but I have to say it’s beginning to make a lot of sense for me of late. 

Who actually first said it, of that I’m not sure, but it was relayed to me by a close friend some years back. And while I always thought it was an amusing quote, I never really appreciated its true value. Until now that is.

Up until a few weeks ago, I thought the days of men paying for everything on dates with the fairer (or should that be not very fair) sex had long gone. Even here, in South America, my experiences heretofore had been pretty balanced when it came to picking up the tab on nights out with women. Indeed, on many occasions, as a frugal backpacker, the settled locals wouldn’t let me pay for anything. Great work if you can get it, eh? 

I’m seeing the other side of things now, though. And that side comes in the form of an extremely attractive, 21-year-old Medellín-born Bogotá resident.

Nice view, but where is the love?

It’s at that early stage where I’m still wondering if she's just using me to have free nights out – you know, the rich (if only she knew), white Western guy – or does she genuinely have feelings for me. 

Two dates down and about $120,000 Colombian pesos less well-off (roughly €45, but put into context six nights' accommodation in a Bogotá hostel — cheers to the Cranky Croc, there) and the doubts are beginning to creep in. 

Yes, it’s early days. But no we haven’t slept together yet — the lack of private accommodation on my part and a strict Christian grandmother on hers have put paid to that. Well, at least that’s what I’m telling myself.

Now, from what I know of her so far, she seems pretty cool and she’s somebody I’m willing to give it a go with — my pretty average Spanish makes up somewhat for her poor English. 

In fact, for once I feel I’ve the slight upper hand on the language barrier front. It’s the fact that when it comes to paying the bills, my money’s the only one that talks in this budding relationship — I’m finding that a bit unsettling, especially considering I’ve yet to get a job here if indeed I will at all. 

Yes, it’s the culture here and if I genuinely like the girl I should have no qualms about it — but for how long will it go on this way? 

Is it worth, quite literally, going for broke in a country where gorgeous women rival in number the millions of dollars Pablo Escobar amounted in his prime. Well, maybe not as much as that, but there are plenty of beautiful ladies here all the same.
 

You see, I have it on good authority that for the same $120,000 pesos that I have thus far "invested" in my little beauty, you can call into the many strip clubs here and take your pick. 

OK, it’s a one-night stand (well, a whole night might be pushing it at that price). However, unlike a relationship that you invest time and effort in but might ultimately end in failure, you’ll have no baggage.

Of course, the strip club way is easy. For many, the thrill of the pick-up is what counts; spotting the girl you want, the initial flirting, the apprehension as to whether or not you’ll get your "prize", the satisfaction when it works out, the disappointment when it doesn’t.

But it can’t disguise the fact that you pay for it either way. One way by stealth — dating being the official term I believe — the other being a more open, transparent way where the rules are a bit more clear-cut.

I suppose it comes down to what you want from it all. If it’s only about satisfying your short-term needs, the clear-cut way should suffice. 

However, if you’re at that stage where you feel it’s time to give a relationship a blast — warts and all — the roller-coaster lifestyle of the dating game awaits, if you’re lucky. Or is that unlucky? Of course, you can always dabble in both.

Time and — more pertinently, perhaps — money permitting that is.