Heres some more thoughts

I meandered my way through exhaust filled streets, greasey arrepa stands, children in tattered clothing asking for 100 pesos, and old men sitting on plastic buckets chain smoking their ciggss as they tapped their foot to the same salsa record they have probably been listening to for the past 50 years. Soon I made my way to the Museaum of Modern Art. It was a small building next to a ,ibrary. I walked to the second floor and asked the women if I needed to pay. She claimed it was free and boy was that saucey for me. I had a day of cost=less fun ahead of me. There were photographs of close=ups of old men cracking a smile through their dry lips and coffee stained teeth poked through. There were pictures of women standing in open fields with nothing but open blue Argentinian sky behind them. There were also many Cubist=style paintings of naked women, old men with Irish looking hats, and children rosey=cheeked and grinning. I only saw 2 other people in the museum the entire time. boy, I must have caught this thing at the right time. Since it was morning, I suppose the Colombians were still resting their heads from all of the liquor and dancing the night before.

I then headed to the library, which was practically connected to the Museum. I sat down in an fluffy, orange chair, and peeled open an Edgar Allen Poe Collection of short stories. The only catch was that these stories were written in Spanish. Rackin gmy brain for a good hour to get through maybe 3 pages, I was fed up. Not angry, ready to storm out of the library because I had no patience with my flimsey Spanish skills, but moreso a gratification. I had put my time an effort into this language and maybe 30 percent of the text made sense. Then again, it was Edgar Allen Poe. The dude can be difficult to read in English sometimes.

Later that day I met up with a girl named Deisey. She was a friend of an old friend of mine who I knew from high school. She was a local with a great smile. I approached her with one of Santiago"s roomates, Julian. We all made our introductions and soon we were off to two more museums. On the way to the first we appsed through a pigeon filled square known as the BOtero Plaza. Botero was a famous COlombian artist. He was overweight and he loved to paint his subjects like he viewed himself I suppose: overweight. The statues were large and black. The reminded me of human blimps made of stone. There were masses of pigeons everywehere. ALong with the pigeons there was a lot of do=doo. The do=doo happen to be everywhere expect the statues. Hmm.. I suppose they had a professional pigoen=crap cleaner who shined and buffed the overweight statues each morning before crowds of people came to view them.

We entered to museum and I had to use the bathroom. Being in a public place in COlombia and needing to use the bathroom does not mix. I asked a woman where it was, she blabbered something in Spanish, which I understood as, "down below". I got to the door and it was locked. I would have to be a big boy and hold it. Arrgggg...cant these Colombians at least have a bathroom that functions...

There was mostley Picasso and Rembrant in these museums, with a tid bit of Botero. We all stood gawk=eyed slack=gawed at all the great art. Deisey and her friend took lots of pictures. We all had some great laughs. And Im out......

written by  kipmaddog on August 6, 2009 from Medellin, Colombia
from the travel blog: adventures from down south
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