Santandercito, keeping the satiated dullness at bay

@wwaycorrigan

[Listen to an audio version of this blog entry here.]

I've stated previously how I'm not at all averse to routine, as long as I feel it's not too detrimental to my health and well-being.

Bogotá's Santandercito: Rough and ready.

Downwardly mobile

On the other hand, I've also let it be known that a monotonous 8-6 gig is not for me. While I might be traversing the same physical ground on a daily basis — something most of the world has been forced to do for much of the last 16 months — the important thing is that there's an amount of variety to what I'm doing.

Of course, 'being my own boss', as I pretty much am these days, means I put as much variety into what I do as I see fit, constrained both financially and legally as we all are to varying degrees.

Throughout the pandemic, however, 'spicing up one's life' has been rather difficult. It may be one explanation as to why I've found myself being pulled right into Bogotá barrio living. That is, not just socialising in my stomping ground of Santandercito but actually taking up residence there.

Yes, my living quarters are far from ideal. And lest people say 'you get what you pay for, tight-fisted Corrigan', I'm forking out the most I've ever had to for accommodation during my almost ten years in Bogotá.

'A period of small-town living might be the answer to some issues I've been largely ignoring to address. Mentally recharge and evaluate my options from, quite literally, a different viewpoint.'

My main bugbears are a lack of natural light entering and the noise from above. I'm on the ground floor while the landlady and her extended family occupy the other two floors. A two-metre squared open space from the plastic roof down projects some light into my living space. 

It also, unfortunately, ensures I hear all the chattering and regular shouting from above as if I were actually in the same room as my noisy neighbours. Kids, who'd have 'em, eh?

Unsettling issues

Some say that for the rent I pay I could find something better. In Bogotá, for a place that's largely independent and contract-free, I'm not so sure. I might find an apartment with better natural lighting but it would probably be lacking in something else. I've moved around the city enough to know that's it hard to get past mediocrity, such is life.  

That aside, there's a certain energy on the streets that I feed off. Even in the "strictest" days of coronavirus-containment measures, there was a bit of welcome life about the place.

Now, as a resident, I get a mild buzz wandering through the barrio and greeting the various folk I know. Some are just familiar faces, no more than acquaintances, others are people I regard as good friends.

To borrow from the renowned clinical psychologist and best-selling author Jordan B. Peterson, my opting to take up residence here could be linked to a shunning of the 'satiated dullness' of a comfortable existence. (Peterson said this in relation to Fyodor Dostoevsky's critique of the socialist utopia, so a rather different context. Having said that, I found nothing dull about Venezuela's, um, "socialist utopia". Also, I'm not so sure how and where I could find a comfortable existence these days.)

It must be noted, though, the location hasn't that much to do with living comfortably or not, financially speaking in any case.

Nonetheless, as Bogotá is due to start roaring again like it did pre-pandemic, a more relaxed existence could be found outside the metropolis. For I can't say that I'm currently in Bogotá for the money really. Far from it. Indeed, it could be said the small amount I earn is offset by a somewhat hedonistic lifestyle, at times anyway.

A period of small-town living might be the answer to some issues I've been largely ignoring to address. Mentally recharge, evaluate my options from, quite literally, a different viewpoint, before facing into another stay-or-go dilemma with a visa expiry date only months away.

There really never is a dull moment in this unsettled existence, is there?
_______________________________________________________________
Listen to Wrong Way's Colombia Cast podcast here.

Facebook: Wrong Way Corrigan — The Blog & IQuiz "The Bogotá Pub Quiz".

The Bogotá nomad

It has been said that the first item on the agenda of a newly formed Irish political party is the split. Ireland just doesn't do unity very well, it seems.

Houses, houses everywhere but none that suits Wrong Way ...

Borrowing from that, after over eight years of Bogotá as my base, it would seem the first item on my imaginary agenda when I move into new accommodation is, 'Where will I live next?'

A moving target

I count 16 room rentals, excluding hostels, that I've had in the Colombian capital. That is to say, two house moves a year on average, although, somewhat embarrassingly, I've just completed move number three in as many months. Come on, we are living in, wait for it, unprecedented times, so this year's upheaval is excusable.

(I'm pretty sure I would have stayed where I was from June 2019 to March of this year had there been no lockdown, coming as it did with the prospect of sharing a house with a noisy six-year-old boy — the rules of engagement changed and I didn't like what I was facing into.)

Also, it's important to note that in the period from September 2016 to September 2018 — when I returned to Ireland for a family event, uncertain as to my Colombian future — I stayed in the same place.

You could say I found something resembling comfort in that apartment share on the city's northern reaches, 175th Street just off the motorway (autopista norte). Indeed, that greater area, especially Barrio Santandercito/San Antonio, remains my "stomping ground" of sorts.

Granted, it's quite far away from the centre and "hip" Chapinero and its surrounds, parts of town that could be said to be a little more cosmopolitan — they certainly have more foreign faces about in any case.

'My Colombian life has never really felt that real.'

Despite that, or perhaps because of it, I certainly don't miss living in the historic centre, La Candelaria, for one. In terms of city living, I want for little in the far north — bar my own place of course.

So, you ask, why haven't I got that after all this time? For starters, had I known back in 2012 that Bogotá would be my home for this long, it's fairly likely I would have made finding my own place a priority, thus nipping this housing headache in the bud.

Alas, like a garden bush you keep promising yourself to trim back but never get around to it, this issue has grown rather wild over the years. Now it just seems overwhelming to tackle.

And every time I'm reminded of it i.e. I have to move again, I usually think I won't be in the city too much longer so a short-term solution is the best approach, especially from a financial perspective (that's not only the more expensive rent but also the cost of making a vacant property a home for what may only be a couple of months).

The Colombian dream

You see, I've never been at a stage here where I've said to myself, 'Yea, this is it. I'm happy with what I'm doing so if nothing changes over the next while I see no reason to leave.'

Basically, if somebody had asked me that highly annoying, completely unoriginal interview question, 'Where do you see yourself in five years' time?', from a what-part-of-the-world perspective, at no time over the last eight years would I have answered 'Bogotá'. (In fairness, my general response to such a question is, 'Sorry, my clairvoyant skills just aren't what they used to be.')

At the risk of getting somewhat philosophical here, the thing is my Colombian life has never really felt that real. I came here on a bit of an adventure, to 'give it a lash'. A return to real living, you know, a proper, relatively well-paid job, maybe even settling down, having children, that kind of stuff, that's for somewhere else, not here.

That's been my thought process in any case. Nothing this year has changed that. In fact, it's only been reinforced.

The question is, what next? Now, if I can find a satisfying answer to that in the coming months, great. To borrow from one Irish "party" that has managed to avoid the inevitable split, I still haven't found what I'm looking for (that's the band U2, in case you're wonderin). Of course, one has to define what one is looking for before it can be found.

With that in mind, I'm as confident as I can be that having my own place is a necessity. It's a start, at least.
___________________________________________________________
Listen to Wrong Way's Colombia Cast podcast here.

Facebook: Wrong Way Corrigan — The Blog & IQuiz "The Bogotá Pub Quiz".

Bogotá's house of pain

We've all had our 'horror' stories when renting rooms, especially in shared accommodation — those of us who have to endure such things that is. In a (slowly) developing city such as Bogotá, less-than-positive experiences in this regard are, perhaps, more commonplace than in other places. Finding a decent abode at a reasonable price for what's on offer can be quite a chore.

'Can I have a wash & microwave dry, please?'

Indeed, in this day and age, some lodgings should never be made available for rent to the general public. What's more, some people just shouldn't be landlords/landladies. It's that second point that chiefly concerns us here.

Basically, in the early months of this year, this writer had the displeasure of renting a room from a woman who wants all the benefits of being a landlady but accepts pretty much none of the responsibilities.

Fair enough, it was always going to be a temporary solution, yet the initial trappings that came with the lofty monthly rent of $600,000 COP gradually disappeared during the rather painful two-month stay.

You had a table and chairs taken from the communal area, the place where we'd eat and work as there were no desks in the rooms (and who wants to eat food in a window-less room in any case?). This was done without prior warning, the house owner's standard practice as we came to learn.

She also left us without a washing machine for a number of days. A replacement was eventually installed, but one that was quite temperamental.

Despite numerous reminders, bathroom leaks went unfixed. All this at a time when the government was pleading — and continues to plead — conservation.

I managed to find alternative accommodation shortly after the communal table went AWOL. For my friend who also stayed there the agony continued for another month; and things got worse.

The landlady regularly promised to get another table and chairs, but such utterances were about as empty as her stomach is large — let's just say her girth is of some size.

The point of no return for my friend was the arrival of a couple from the Dominican Republic — who were put up in the garage — and the changes made around the house to accommodate them.

Apparently, the woman in that relationship is a hairdresser and obviously plans to start her profession from the garage-cum-studio apartment. 'Obviously' is used here because a sink for washing hair was installed in the kitchen (see photo above) — yes, in the communal kitchen where people prepare their meals, 'conveniently' placed beside the microwave. 'Would you like a wash and microwave dry today?' Wonderfully hygienic, that.

It's probably fair to say this isn't legal, but if it means the landlady earns some more money, that's the most important thing for her. To heck with standards and regulations.

It must be pointed out that the owner and her family also live in the house, on the second floor. The thing is, they rarely use the facilities as, get this, they own a hotel nearby and spend most of their time there. 

One can only hope that Casa Fratelly — the name of the hotel, one to avoid — is a little bit more organised and well-kept. Or maybe our esteemed landlady took lessons from the 'Basil Fawlty School of Hotel Management', and, um, 'improved' upon them.

Whatever the case, pity the poor soul who next takes up residence in Bogotá's house of pain.
______________________________________
Facebook: Wrong Way Corrigan - The Blog & IQuiz "The Bogotá Pub Quiz".