April 31st, 2009: Went dancing with some locals my last night in Bogota. Yes, I danced – at least that is what I called it. I am not sure why I did not use the “I just sprained ankle walking over here” excuse. I am a master at it…I can even drag my foot a little and every so often will release a few tears if they are persistent on getting me out on the dance floor. The people over here make dancing seem fun – It could also be that I didn’t know anyone except for the people at the hostel, and I really don’t even know them. I could tell you I am great at the Salsa, but that would be a vicious lie. I asked this unbelievably beautiful woman (in butchered Spanish) who turned out to be a girl when she told me how old she was. I suppose I need a lot – a lot - a lot of practice on identifying the age of Colombian women at the moment. She thought I was 25…she needs practice too I suppose.
We were smart this time and paid the $2.34 cab fare instead of walking back to the hostel. No bum fights.
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Wow, from one non-dancer to another, I'd say that this is muy impressive that they got you on the dance floor. Wish there were pictures of this rare sight!
ReplyDeleteXoxo,
Elise