Medellin, Colombia

Thurs 1/7 - Medellin, Colombia

Arrive 5:30am. Walk sunrise to hostel. City climbs up hill and is wrapped in clouds. Sleep on the couch a few hours. Walk around part of the city and I’m staying in. Restaurant/party part of town. Foreign muscle bros in tank tops. Eat at “Mexican” joint with stale everything and a full line of custom hot sauces that have all fermented from sitting in the sun. Sit thinking “I can’t wait to rate this place on Tripadvisor.” Realize I’m just the lamest white person. Finish my shitty tacos, mutter a submissive “thank you…” Walk away.

Meet some people. Lots of Argentinians. Locals who offer me any drug I want. Locals who have free coke and I refuse (sadly, proud). Go out with them to drink at park. Park packed with people drinking. Teaching black magic game and bothering people. Talk to some dude who came for a few days and ends up staying a month “sleeping everyday until 4pm and partying all night.” It’s that sort of city. Exhausted. Walk back to hostel. Pass a gaggle of prostitutes. Huh. Pass out.

Fri 1/8

Wake. Nerd out. Girl has messaged me on OKC and wants to hang out. She has a installation at the Museum of Modern Art here in Medellin and went to Columbia in NYC that’s DIY carpentry shit (???). I google her name Angélica Teuta and she is apparently she is a pretty big deal. Clearly way too good for me. Some other girl has messaged me wanting to hang out tonight who is into “intersectionality, feminism and sex.” Go on long walk through city with headphones. Crazy delicious veggie burger at a place called Verdeo. Walk. City Center is an intense Chinatown looking market with whoever whatever selling any knock off brand anything they can find. Walk. Street that looks like the bad guy slums of Ninja Turtles with blocks and blocks of stripped cars. Walk. Get to some park full of homeless and some terrifying looking lady is coming it me offering sex. Walk. Get to classy restaurant area full of beautiful people. Walk. Find Metro. Five hours later I’m at my hostel.

Feminism isn’t getting back to me, but Angelica is. She is going out with friends tonight and wants me to meet her. I oblige. Sit around at drinking park. A girl recognizes me and says “Garrett?” I say in my head “oh fuck.” She says “Do you recognize me?” I say out loud “No.” She says “From Tinder? We spoke.” I say “...No.” She is clearly devastated and embarrassed. I think of pretending to know her. I think pretending to be embarrassed. Instead I just look at her and say “I have no idea who you are - I’m sorry.” She walks away looking like she is going to cry. I want to feel bad but if you’re not recognized after ten lines of conversation from a dating app - I can’t be bothered. I get out of the park and message Angelica to meet me not in the park.

Meetup. She is with adorable gay friend. We go to rock bar. First time on this whole trip I’ve heard good punk rock at bar. A Goldfinger song comes on and I’m just oh so stoked. People inside are going crazy and are super friendly. Leave to techno club. People are recognizing her on the street and talking about her art. Weird. Arrive techno club. Deep dark house wave whatever bullshit. Still so much better than reggaeton.

Angelica is giving me some heavy eyes and heavy hands. She tells me her gay friend really likes me. I tell him that whatever I’ll totally kiss him. Everyone is shocked - but I’m from fucking Fort Collins. Gay friend is so stoked. Angelica apparently is into this and is now lifting up my shirt and feeling my stomach. Angelica is now kissing me. Angelica is now grabbing my dick in the middle of the club. I am proven over and over again that generalizing out of every nationality, sect, genre, whatever - gay people are simply the best. Some guy has a bottle of good Johnny Walker. Make myself his friend and drink because decent whiskey is nowhere. Angelica is telling me I’m coming home with her. I oblige, still half expecting that it is not happening, because patterns. Get cab. Go home with her. I’m sneaking into her free apartment she somehow has because art. She immediately tells me to take off all of my clothes. I oblige. Yadayada. Pass out.

Sat 1/9

Wake up after two hours of sleep. Yadayada again. Try to sleep but she is watching indie porn. Look up “XConfessions.” Good stuff. Yadada again, because porn. Try to sleep again. Doesn’t work. Yadayada until like 3pm. Veggie restaurant. Smart interesting girl. We’re talking about relationships and hooking up and I confess to many of my exploits of my trip. She does the same. Super down to earth shoot the shit humble person. She explains that Medellin culture is the female pursuing the dudes (week later update: nah). Return house. Sleep for an hour. Wakes me up. Exhausted and with a now sour dick I say “...I should go back to my hostel.” She, in a number of words, says “no, I’m not unlocking the door for you.” I say “guhhhh” and lay around debating to stand up for myself or stay another night. I’m weak. Oh well. We make dinner. I convince her to go to a live salsa show in the area with me.

Salsa culture in Colombia is fucking beautiful. Talented bands shredding some weird ass poly-rhythms with a full backing brass line. Everyone is dancing - young and very old. Many of the women are tattooed pierced and dyed and super gorgeous. Spinning and colliding Salsa pit. People are stoked not from booze but from motion and human touch. Instead of standing around drinking and talking to nothing you just grab someone you like and start twirling. You’re worth is determined by how fancy you can step instead of how much “game” you got. I stood in the corner with a beer exhausted and useless. Angelica and I stumble back to house. Pass out.

Sun 1/10

Wake up. More yadayada. Leave. Make it back to my hostel for free pancakes. Nerding. Walk around looking for a burrito. Settle for another veggie burger place that rules because gringo area = veggie. Nerding. Angelica wants to go out. I want to go out alone. Go out alone. Go to park. Meet German dude. Germans are so weird. I tell him to take my number. Go to Calle 9-1, the same techno club as night before. Meet some Canadian dude who says “it’s cool - the place has a burning man vibe.” Write him off. Meet some hilarious English dudes. We dance weird for hours and make dumb jokes that only people who English is their first language can make. Hardly any girls in club. I’m rather happy about this. Just dancing and drinking and being an idiot. Turn down free coke because I’m trying to be good person. Club let’s out. English dudes have disappeared. Burning man convinces me to go to the park with him 4am. He’s scoping hard for chiX. He walks over to some prostitutes. I get the fuuuck out. Hostel. Check my phone. Apparently weird German guy fucked some girl on the dance floor of a reggaeton club(???). I wish I didn’t hate reggaeton so much. And that I had any game outside of the internet. Pass out.

Mon 1/11

Wake up late. Talking to Angelica. She wants to hang out. I tell her I don’t. I tell her I think she is great but I just don’t want to be “seeing someone” in any extent of the term. She is very upset. Tells me I’m just another shitty dude. I try to explain that traveling and being with someone emotionally/sexually/otherwise is very different from just being alone and being able to do whatever and it’s not that I don’t like her it’s just that I don’t want to “be” with her for the whole time I’m in the city. She is still very upset. I get bummed. I don’t know how to balance seeing someone with friendship with fucking with emotion with being hommies. I don’t want to hurt anybody and I don’t want to deal with this shit and I don’t want to be an asshole. I’m stupid and I can’t grasp a larger perspective to process what is going on and I’m going to a lake town tomorrow to cut my dick off.

Go for walk. Take Metro to random area. End up in neighborhood. It’s some holiday that no one knows the significance of except “it’s Catholic.” No one is working and everyone is partying. Scene: Kids doing wheelies everywhere. Dude sitting with giant PA speaker blaring music out of front door. Tiny bar I get beer just fucking blaring some sort of synth cheesy Latin music. Old on porches watching over playing kids rolling around in streets. No block is without music even if it means sitting in their car to bump it. Inside sits idling old men with hangs pictures of Jesus framed with tacky Christmas lights. Old women throwing dice into board games outside of bars. I find a hill that used to be just a giant pile of trash and drink a beer.

Return to hostel. Some girl hands me “all you can drink shots 9-10p at the biggest party hostel in town Happy Buddha” flyer. Oh no. Head out to hostel. But first am meeting Angelica to “be friends.” Guh. She talks about herself for a while and then talks about why I suck. I just sit there and take it while looking at my watch. I interrupt and say “Hey cool well there is this all you can drink thing you want to come?” She comes. I get word my French friend Thomas from Cali is coming. Yesss. Hostel. Angelica. Talking to dudes from States. One is some older guy who looks and acts like that one super Jewish NYC actor - you know who I’m talking about. I’m pushing American dudes on to Angelica. Frenchy Thomas shows up. Drinks. Dumb. Talking. Drinks. Some funny Australian dude. Talking. Some hours later lead possy of like twenty people down to drinking park. Drinks. Dumb. Talking. Gaggle of dudes follow one cute girl at like 3am into a cab because she “knows where there is a party.” Despite all the drunk this seems like a “certainly robbed” type situation. Angelica, Frenchy, and I stay at park. I made the mistake of telling Angelica before that my friend Jeff and I have banged girls together, so she thinks I’ll bang her with Frenchy. She has her leg over both of us. In yer dreams betch. Depart Angelica. Frenchy and I back to hostel. Pass out.

Tues 1/12

Wake. Supposed to go to lake town but Frenchy needs his fucking french glam haircut which somehow takes all afternoon (if you’re reading this Thomas - fuck you). Go on date to ride cable cars together. Second part of cable cars is shut down for no reason. Buy beers and walk through hill neighborhoods. Poor concrete windowless houses with lots of colorful clothes hanging outside. Adults say “Hola” in streets. Kids says what the adults really meant which is “Hola, gringos” in street. Return hostel. Nap. 7pm free salsa class at same party hostel. Too crowded. Sit and drink. Go to park to find Couchsurfing meeting. Invite cute girl and friends. Nope. Couchsurfing meeting is actually at some bar called “Where is your Mother” (a good name for a bar). Ask some cute girl where bar is. End hanging out with girl. She is from Canada and plays us guitar and is letting on more and more that she is crazy. Other dudes with instruments join. Hang for a while talking about nothing. Return to Happy Buddha. Word of salsa club that is the only happening thing on Tuesday. Grab Israeli girl and go to salsa.

Dirty area of town with few gringos and some dude with liberty spikes. Run into girl I met in Quito who found me at bus station and we found hostel together. We talk for a while. The group of us buy a bottle of Aguardiente. Quickly drunk. More absurdly gorgeous salsa dancing Colombians I’m staring at. Some beautiful alternative looking English girls I’m staring at. Talk to English girls. One wants my contact and then I watch her run around and take a bunch of other dudes contacts and then doesn’t go home with anyone. Some girls and their confidence boosting dick-bouquets, am I right? Some nice ass Colombian dude buys me a beer. Some hot Colombians who live in New Jersey now (???) pay a little attention to us. Israeli girl mad because she can’t get laid. Everyone is upset because they can't get laid. Taxi home. Pass out.