I’ve been having internet issues for the last while, as the wifi hotspot I had been going to wasn’t letting me connect, and at first I thought it was my computer being stupid, but now I realize it was their internet. So now I’m sitting in a different mall, enjoying a midday snack of tostaditas (melba toast) and cream cheese with a side of carrot juice, and for which I waited in line at the grocery store for probably an hour. Remind me not to go shopping on Saturdays.
Anyways, nothing much has been happening lately.
Yesterday there was a surprise cumbia parade in my neighborhood; so much a surprise that I have no pictures. But it was very exuberant and colorful and there were dancers with torches. The cutest part was two little boys, probably about eight, one had a bass drum strapped to his back and the other was following him, beating the drum. Adorable.
In other news, I’ve taken a definitive stand concerning my diet of bollo, and have told my host mom just what I think of it. The first night I told her that platano and bollo are not very delicious, and are, in fact, boring. The next night I asked her what we had for dinner and when she said bollo, I told her I would cook for myself. That was yesterday, and it caused a bit of a stir, but I have very low hopes of being offered anything more appetizing. But! I have taken control of my fate and do not mind cooking for myself. But I shan’t eat anymore bollo.
We found a tasty Indian restaurant. I mean, it’s no “The Antelope” in Burns, Wyoming. But you take what you can get.
I was inspired to get out the old oboe last night. I feel much better. Sometime I’ll have to write a blog post on the confessions of an ex-music major in Colombia.