Hellooooooooo,
So this email is long overdue and just long. Consider yourself warned.
I arrived in Bogotá two weeks ago. My flight and arrival at my hotel were uneventful. There are mountains all around the city. It doesn't really look like the city is really high, but it is. The city slogan is something like, "2500 meters closer to the stars." Cute. I can really notice the altitude when I climb stairs. Man, I feel like the most out of shape person ever!! I get to the top of two consecutive flights of stairs, and I'm huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf.
My first day at the base, the guys took me to lunch and to go shopping at what was basically a Colombian flea market. One of the guys wanted to buy a camera, and all the electronics are much cheaper there than the mall. The market itself is like a labyrinth of booths selling everything from pirated DVDs, to video games consoles (anybody want a Wii Fit? They're in long supply), to shampoo, to blenders, to baby supplies. Seriously, you could find anything you ever wanted there for cheap. DVDs were selling for $2500 pesos (That's like $1.25USD). Yeah… pretty ridiculous if you ask me. The funniest part was how the vendors dealt with each other. My friend was buying some music CDs, and if the particular vendor didn't have the one he wanted, they would run over to one of the other CD vendors and buy the CD from the other vendor to sell to my friend. I thought it was pretty comical- anything to make a sale. My first meal outside of the hotel was a typical Colombian specialty- Broasted Chicken. I'm amazed at how much this country likes their fried chicken. There's basically a friend chicken restaurant every other street corner. It was too funny how this chicken was served. They brought us baskets of the greasy goodness with food service gloves. The gloves were for us, not the waiters. You were supposed to eat with the oversized, thin plastic gloves on your hands to keep from getting greasy. It's not a bad system, except when trying to pick up my plastic cup of Coca Cola Light. The combination of greasy plastic on plastic resulted in slippery situation. I resorted to the two-hand, I-feel-like-I'm-three-years-old method.
So that first day at the base was a Tuesday. I found out that day that I would be going on a job on Wednesday. Welcome to Colombia! Jobs here are WAY different than in Brazil. Instead of a quick one-hour helicopter ride to the rig, here we had to drive eight hours in a truck. We spent all of Wednesday afternoon in the truck: David (the job supervisor), Dagoberto (the driver), and me. I listened to more hours of Colombian salsa music than I care to count. Apparently that's all the rural radio likes to play. It was really beautiful driving along the windy road, through the Andes Mountains. We had lunch at a little mountain restaurant. I ate things that I can't name or tell you what they were. As my friend Bruno says whenever I ask what a particular food in Brazil is, "Just shut-up and eat." It's a good motto when trying to eat food in a different culture. After about 3 hours in the mountains, we came out of a tunnel and descended into Los Llanos (that means "the flats/the plains" in Spanish). The mountains just abruptly stopped and we were suddenly in the South American equivalent of Iowa (minus the corn fields). Flat, flat, flat. We drove past a farm growing a plant I didn't recognize. I asked David what it was, and he told me they were cocaine plants. I didn't believe him… what a jokester. He thought he could get me on an American stereotype, but I'm too clever for that. J Part of the reason we were in the truck for so many hours was because the quality of the roads wasn't exactly ideal (largest exaggeration of 2008). I would say that about a third of the eight hours were spend on poor dirt roads. It makes sleeping difficult when the truck is bouncing up and down, and side-to-side.
We got to the well, and found out that we would be sleeping at a campsite down the road until they needed us at the rig. Basically, I was sleeping in a trailer that was just big enough for a bunk bed, sometimes didn't have toilet paper, smelled moldy, and had no TV or Internet access. I guess sometimes we have to sleep in the truck on jobs, or at hotels over an hour away from the well site, so I shouldn't complain. To get to the campground, we had to drive through a slum, which made my crummy living conditions seem luxurious. The national police had soldiers there, so there was no real danger; but it was really sad to see the conditions in which these people live. They were wood structures, wrapped in blue tarps for walls. They didn't have beds, just hammocks. They make their living selling food and drinks to the rig staff when they're not working. It's really hard when you compare the wealth of the oil industry (even with the recession) compared to the bare poverty of these people.
At meals, I was stared at ALL the time!! I thought I drew a lot of attention in Brazil. Whoops.. I was mistaken. In Brazil, it was more likely based on my appearance that I was Brazilian. Here, there's no chance really that I'm Colombian. At any meal, the whole room full of guys would unashamedly just stare at me. In my head, there's an acceptable amount of time to look at someone without it being really weird, but these guys weren't familiar with my mental standards for their stares. Even if I looked back, they wouldn't stop looking. It almost made me uncomfortable. There was one guy who was convinced that we would make a great couple. He barely made it to my shoulder, didn't speak English, and told me that he "liked big girls." I think that was supposed to make me like him back. Not even close. He proposed marriage to me on the drill floor. I tell people that I have a boyfriend when I'm on jobs to try to diminish the amount of attention I do get. This persistent guy wasn't swayed in his determination. He informed me that Brazil (the location of my fake boyfriend) was really far away, and that I was in Colombia now and needed a Colombian husband.
After the job was over, we drove to the nearest town (1.5 hours away), called Puerto Gaitan (population 1000). We stayed there for a couple days waiting to see if we needed to go directly to another well before heading back to Bogotá. The hotel we stayed at was one of the nicest in the town, but had no restaurant or running hot water. David and I were there with other guys from Schlumberger from another segment. They started drinking beers at 10am. Apparently that's the thing to do if you're not working. I stuck to "La Colombiana," a tasty soft drink (gaseosa, if you will). We had lunch at a restaurant with a dirt floor and thatch roof. We ate "carne al llanero," which is meat that is slow-cooked on a stake in a circle around an open fire. It's only found in that region, I guess. It was smoky and tasty, and I would eat it again. After lunch, we headed down to the docks on the river. There, the guys drank more beers, and took turns asking me to dance. There was typical Colombian music playing, and they were impressed with my salsa skills.
It turned out that we didn't need to go to another well, so we headed back towards Bogotá. At the point when we were heading up the hill to enter the tunnel that entered the Andes Mountains, the clutch on the truck stopped working. It was literally 100 yards before we entered a three-mile long tunnel. Thank goodness that it happened before we entered the tunnel. We pulled over to the side of the road, and the national police guys told us to head back down to the town at the bottom of the hill and get the problem fixed. We had to push the car to turn it around, and then coast for 2 miles down the hill until we reached the conveniently located car dealership. Really, we lucked out. It took a couple hours to get the part we needed and to get it fixed, but we were back on the road soon enough. On the way home, we stopped at the geographical center of Colombia. It was nifty. There was an obelisk and a small pyramid of sorts. I don't know why they had Egyptian landmarks, but it made a nice photo opportunity.
Since I got back from the job, I've been impressed with the spirit of the Colombian people. They are really into Christmas. There are Christmas lights on almost every building from banks to apartment high-rises, to even the houses in the slums. I think it speaks a lot to their hope and love when people with barely anything spend time and money on Christmas lights to decorate their homes. The lights are the biggest thing that makes me feel like Christmas is actually here, so I really appreciate them. They celebrate the Novena here. It's the nine days before Christmas. Everyday at work, in the morning, they sing Christmas songs (that I don't know), and there is free traditional Colombian food. It's like a Christmas party every day, and I love it.
I'm also impressed by how many malls they have here. So far, I've seen five. These Bogotá residents like their shopping!
I'm coming back to the USA in January. I'll be back Jan 6-18. I'm coming back for a review with Schlumberger in Houston at the end of that time, and I'll be in Grand Rapids, MI and NYC. When I finalize my plans, I'll let you know more. If anyone wants to hang out in NYC with me on the weekend of Jan 9-11, you're invited!!
Well… congrats if you made it to the end. You're a trooper!!
Love,
