Archive for May, 2014

I Speak Colombian – Words and Phrases That Will Help You Understand Colombia

May 22, 2014

Probably the best thing about speaking Spanish in Colombia is that you can don’t have to really learn the names of any Colombian men. Instead you can just refer to any man you have met on the street as maestro. In English, maestro is reserved for an artist who has their work displayed in many different museums around the globe or for someone who has been paid to conduct a symphony. Here in Colombia, you can call someone a maestro just because you like the quality of chips he is selling out of a shopping cart near the mini stop.

habloColombiano

An everyday phrase here in Colombia is, “Hay un inconievente” (There is an inconvenience). In English this phrase would be used if maybe the meal you ordered at a restaurant is going to take 5 or 10 minutes longer than expected to arrive to your table. The waiter would tell you, “Sorry sir, there is an inconvenience, the pork sandwich you ordered is going to take an extra 10 minutes before it will be ready.”

Good luck if you are in a hospital in Colombia and the doctor tells you, “Hay un inconievente.” This no doubt means that what they thought was just a little routine acid reflux really means that your kidneys have exploded and you have 3 minutes to live.

Also in Colombia, the customer is made to feel almost like royalty. This example is illustrated when you enter the small corner grocery store and the sales clerk says to, “A sus ordenes su merced” (At your service your mercy).

You thank the clerk for such a warm welcome and try to explain to her that really you aren’t anyone important. You actually just came in to buy $1,500 pesos ($.75USD) worth of that good Bocatto ice cream and are not worthy of being called “Your mercy.” To this the clerk will promptly respond, “Para servirle” (another cute way to say ‘at your service’).

Even the older gentleman with the fleet of dogs by the bus station is always asking “Me colabora?” (Would you like to collaborate with me?) Like we should get together and work on a project, just him and me. When I inform him that I really already have enough business partners in place and he should use the capital he was going to invest in my company to maybe buy some more food for his dogs. He then looks at me like I am the one who doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

At home, I always hear my girlfriend Kary say strange expressions over the phone like, “Mommy, make sure to put all you books in your backpack for school tomorrow,” or “Mommy, make sure not to spend all your money on candy, save it for your lunch.”

I would then ask my girlfriend two questions,

#1) I didn’t realize your 53-year old mother was still in school and #2) Isn’t it a little strange to lecture your own 53-year old mother on how she should be spending her money?

“When I say Mommy, I am referring to my daughter, not my actual mother.”

“Oh ok, that’s clear,” I would reply.

Another strange occasion involving my girlfriend’s daughter arose when she showed me a text message she sent to her daughter, “Mommy, don’t let the other girls ride you in school.” (Mommy, no dejes que te la montan en la escuela).

“Ok, I understand the mommy part now, that’s clear. I am a little confused about your daughter being ridden around like livestock while at school. I thought she was going to private school.”

“No, te la montan, is referring to when the other girls pick on my daughter at school.”

A common occurrence when you are talking to Colombians in English is that they will start off telling you a story, for example; “I was at the quick stop and a large man with a gold chain, a leather jacket and many tattoos asked if I help him give his car a jump”….long pause….You then see, by the look of terror and shame, on your Colombian friend’s face that the needle has slipped off of his record. He politely makes eye contact with you and says, “The dove has left me” (Se me fue la paloma). This means that whatever he was going to say he forgot or isn’t sure of the correct way to express his idea.

Another widespread turn of phrase to be heard in Colombia happens when you are having trouble hearing the other person you are talking on the phone. And, to make sure that the line hasn’t been disconnected you ask, “Are you still there Jhon?”

Jhon then replies, “Sizas.”

Suiza? (Switzerland?). Are you talking about bank accounts?” you ask Jhon.

“No, sizas just means ‘yes’ in Colombian Spanish.”

Another expression that fascinates many foreign people is to hear a Colombian say, “Me saca la piedra” (It takes the rock out of me).

This is usually heard when a Colombian goes to the corner store to pay his water bill (via the online bill-paying teller, located at most grocery stores). As the clerk starts entering the billing information, the machine spits out a ticket that says “error.” The clerk reads the ticket and calmly informs the customer that his billing information still isn’t in the system even though the bill arrived to his house four days ago by mail, he will have to come back to the grocery the next day to see if his billing information is in the system. He then becomes angry and yells, “Me saca la piedra!”

It also works the other way for Colombians who are learning English. Most are very surprised to learn that in English, we don’t have a gender-specific way to say, “I have to go pee.” In Colombia, this isn’t an issue. Colombians here have gender-specific ways to express the fact that they need to go to the bathroom. If you are a woman you say, “Me estoy haciendo chichi.” If you are a man, you can say, “Me estoy haciendo pipi.” Needless to say, it is never possible or correct for a woman to say “Me estoy haciendo pipi” or for a man to say, “Me estoy haciendo chichi.”

The final vocabulary words, perfectly describe my buying habits when I am at the corner tiendita (mom and pop grocery store). Instead of paying $1,600 pesos ($.80USD) for the Tutti Frutti quality juices, I like to save a $1,000 pesos ($.50USD) and buy the lowest quality juice in the store which is Tangelo, which is the Colombian version of Sunny Delight, except with twice the preservatives and half the fruit juice.

When I bring the Tangelo “juice” back to my house and put it in the refrigerator, my girlfriend Kary always scolds me for being an incredible cheapskate. She says to me, “No seas chichipato (Don’t be cheap). Pay the extra $1,000 pesos and buy something that isn’t going to dye your stomach a different color.

“But honey, you won’t believe the price I got on this juice.”

Tu eres muy tacano. (You are so cheap). I don’t want this imitation fruit juice in my house.”

Even the names of certain countries are in limbo in Colombia.  Like English, there is more than one name for Holland.  It isn’t solely referred to as Holanda. But, the other name for Holland isn’t similar at all to Netherlands, when referring to this country famous for its coffee shops, Spanish speakers refer to as “Lower Counties” or Paises Bajos.  Even though it is only one country and it isn’t in the south of Europe.

My favorite time to marinate in Colombian Spanish is while listening to Colombian grandmothers talk to their grandchildren. They are all so affectionate towards their grandchildren and have invented a slough of loving expressions that really crack me up. To get a further explanation on how these grandmothers actually talk, my Colombian girlfriend Kary called her grandmother in Cartagena via Skype so I could hear first-hand this special vocabulary her grandmother uses with her favorite granddaughter.

“Hi preciosa (precious), How is my dulce cielo (sweet heaven), my nena (babe), my niña (little girl)?” asks Kary’s grandmother.

“Good grandmother, how are you?” asks Kary.

“Missing you, mi turron de azucar (my chocolate dessert). How are you feeling mamita (little mama), mi vida (my life), mi corazon (my heart), mi muñeca (my doll), mi chiquita (my little girl)? You aren’t too skinny are you? I hope you are eating well.”

“Yes grandmother, I am eating eggs for breakfast every morning and lots of fruits and vegetables,” responds Kary.

“Oh course you are, you are so beautiful. I love you so much. But please luz de mis ojos (light of my eyes), anda siempre por la sombrilla (stay out of dangerous situations). I am making you a beautiful dress for your next visit to Cartagena.

“Thank you grandmother,” responds Kary.

“Ok, mi preciosura (something more precious than precious). I love you so much and please don’t talk with strangers mi negrita (my little brown girl). Ciao.” (Sometimes, Colombians grandmothers have tendency to forget their granddaughter are no longer 8-years old.)

Even though this author had one of the top 10 grandmothers in North America in terms of love, support and advice, this author stills feels somewhat neglected by the fact that his grandmother never referred to him as “my sweet heaven” or “the light of my eyes.”

In any case, while in Colombia this author still has a pretty good chance that someday a Colombian taxi driver may actually refer to him as maestro.

When the country of Peru is mentioned, one imagines a peaceful scene of an Andean alpaca grazing along an Incan stone wall. When Ecuador is brought up, we imagine a rain forest panorama of frogs jumping off branches while butterflies mate in the background. When Colombia is mentioned, we envision a post-apocalyptic city full of overturned buses, being pillaged by men in ski masks. It is obvious which country any rational person would seek to avoid while searching for an internet bride.

“48,000,000 Colombians Can’t Be Wrong” is a true adventure story about a 37-year-old socially-awkward man who decided that the best way he could deal with a life sentence of microwavable burritos and 10-hour Facebook marathons was to look online for a girlfriend in Colombia and then hop on a flight to Colombia’s capital in pursuit of a woman he has never met.

During his first month in Bogota, Brian falls in with two white, self-assured backpackers who the author describes as, “…not the kind of guys who pump the brakes before going through an uncontrolled intersection.” He is then nearly kidnapped during an encounter with a woman he met online, almost becomes business partners with a Korean man in the “diamond business” and is forced to sleep in the DVD room of his hostel due to lack of funds.

Brian quickly regroups after his first month and auditions for the part of “congressional aide” in a Colombian feature film called “Left To Die.” He then lands a job as a writer for an English-language newspaper where his first interview is with a “suspected undercover CIA agent.” Brian then gets thrown off a TV set for refusing to take off his shirt from under his police uniform. While Brian is not getting thrown off TV sets, he marvels at all the discarded construction materials Colombians throw into pot holes to lessen their depths. Because of this strategy, a bus going over one of these open trenches (full of construction materials) will occasionally sling a chest-high brick through a group of panic-stricken pedestrians.

Brian sincerely believed this trip would put him on a track towards a life of excitement, intrigue and exotic women, far from his increasing first world debt. Instead, he unexpectedly falls into a job as an extra in a Colombian soap opera, has panic attacks, watches other gringos lose their marbles and blows half his paycheck on bootlegged DVD’s. Along the journey, he chronicles his friendships, the deranged ex-pats he meets, and his struggles/triumphs, including one fateful night in a Israeli restaurant that would change his life forever.

To view the complete book, “48,000,000 Colombians Can’t Be Wrong,” go to …

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B015VWCXME?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

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Internet Romeo In Colombia

May 18, 2014

My first date in Colombia was with Diana. I called the number she had given me a few weeks prior, via email.

“Is Diana there?” I asked.

“No, who is this?” replied a female voice.

“I am Brian and I met Diana online on Colombian Cupid.”

“Ah yes, this is a friend of hers, my name is Adriana. The name of my friend isn’t really Diana, it’s Lorena.”

“Oh, can Lorena meet me today at 12 noon?” I asked, not at all fazed by a few names changes by my potential date.

“Yes, we can.” (It was very unexpected to have a date with two girls)

“Ok, lets meet at Plaza de los Periodistas (The Journalists’ Square) at 12 noon and then go to Monserrate (a little church on 10,000 foot high mountain) from there,” I suggested.

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At 12 noon, I received a call from Adriana, “Hi Brian, we are at the entrance of Monserrate, but we can’t find you.”

“Well, I am at Plaza de los Periodistas, waiting for you guys, should I take a taxi to Monserrate, and meet you guys there?”

“Yes, we will wait for you here.”

So, I jumped in a cab that was actually being hailed by another person from my hostel who was also going to Monserrate. It was with a girl who wasn’t quite sure if we had met before or not.

“Were you with the people from the hostel who went to the club last night?”

“Which people are you talking about?” As far as I could remember, I hadn’t gone out at night anywhere in at least a week.

Before she could respond, my phone rang.

“Hi Brian, this is Adriana, we have decided that we will come to Plaza de los Periodistas and see you, there are too many people up here at Monserrate.”

I quickly explained to the taxi driver and to my newly-acquired backpacker friend that I was getting out of the cab. The backpacker girl asked why. I explained that my friends had said that it was too crowded at the top. The backpacker remained in cab and decided to go on without me. I jumped out and started walking back to Plaza de los Periodistas. By the time I had gotten to Plaza de los Periodistas, Lorena and Adriana were already there.

Lorena quickly explained to me that she had given me the phone number of her friend (Adriana) as a way to protect herself from strange people. Although she didn’t explain why her real name (Lorena) was different from the name she used online (Diana).

Still really not having any idea what was going on, I agreed to go for lunch with my new internet friends.

As we walked through Bogota’s old town, Lorena/Diana and Adriana gave me an informal tour. The description given about every building by Lorena/Diana was all the same. It was either “delicious” or “cool.” What a great start, we had picked the most delicious and cool place in all of Bogota for our walk. We finally arrived at a restaurant that was in the touristy part of town and looked to cost a lot more than my standard $3USD meal that I was spending on lunch each day. Against my better judgment, I agreed to eat at this expensive restaurant. So we went in and all sat down. While ordering, Adriana made sure to get three appetizers and beers for everyone. My mind started to calculate the price of the meal. According to my estimate, the price at that moment was somewhere between $60-$75, (nearly a week’s budget for my food). I tried to relax and started showing Adriana some of the photos I had taken during my first week in Colombia. While I was doing this, Lorena/Diana got up from the table, walked out to the restaurant balcony and started talking on the phone with “her mother.”

As soon as the food came, Lorena/Diana came back from the balcony and sat down with us. She informed us that after the meal that we were invited to come to her mother’s house on the other side of town to watch a soccer game. I didn’t feel comfortable with doing that but I told her that I would go with them. We then started eating lunch. As we were eating, Adriana asked me how old I thought each of them was.

It was a strange question, since Lorena/Diana’s age (29) appeared on the website. I could definitely tell that Adriana was a lot older. But I didn’t want to offend Adriana, so I said, “29 and 32.”

Adriana (the less attractive and heavier one) looked to be very happy with that number and started talking about the many boyfriends she had in life, thanks to her charisma and beauty. At one point in her story she went as far to say, “If you don’t like Lorena, you could choose me.” At that exact moment when she said that, I was cutting my hamburger into more manageable bites and nearly cut my index finger off. It was the equivalent of asking to trade a horse for a Lamborghini.

My only response, was just to meekly smile while I tried to think of how I had gotten myself into this situation. Adriana then put her phone up to her ear, to make a call. The call didn’t go through. She then tried again.

“I am trying to call a cell phone that has been turned off, do you mind if I use your phone?”

I assumed that I either didn’t understand her Spanish that well, (because her request made no sense), or, she just wanted to see my cell phone to try and size me up for how much money I had. It was at this moment I knew it was time to take action. I grabbed my camera and backpack and said, “I need to go to the bathroom, I will be right back.”

I went to the back of the restaurant and went out the back door. It felt great to have skipped out on the bill, leaving two scam artists to pay for an overpriced meal. As I walked back to my hostel, I wondered what I would do if either of them tried to call me. I decided to turn my phone off for a couple hours. Fortunately, I never heard from Adriana or Lorena/Diana again. Unfazed by this first date, I was determined to find a special lady friend.

__________________________________

I Speak Colombian – The Book

When the country of Peru is mentioned, one imagines a peaceful scene of an Andean alpaca grazing along an Incan stone wall. When Ecuador is brought up, we imagine a rain forest panorama of frogs jumping off branches while butterflies mate in the background. When Colombia is mentioned, we automatically picture an overturned bus, being pillaged by men in ski masks. I think it is obvious, which country, a reasonable person like myself, would choose to go to in search of a beautiful Latin lover and a more fulfilling professional career.

DSC02273

The 3-Hour Work Week: The Gringo Guide To Online Dating, Learning Spanish, Avoiding Deportation And Making Money In Colombia is designed to inspire people to maximize life experiences and escape an ordinary life. Inspired by the ideologies of the self-proclaimed “Internet Romeo/All-Star Budget Traveler/Worst English Teacher in Colombia,” it has been described as the holy grail for those who want to explore opportunities abroad and network with hot Latin singles.

This is the complete guidebook on how to relocate to Colombia and become an English teacher/freelance writer/actor. This book illustrates the many advantages (affordable health insurance, the lack of tipping in restaurants and affordable plastic surgery) that the gringo visitor can expect to find in Colombia.

Funny, fact filled and always informative, The 3-Hour Work Week provides the knowledge you need to make the most out of the Colombia experience, and/or makes a great coffee table book you can enjoy during the commercial breaks of the Jersey Shore. Jam-packed with practical information, The 3-Hour Work Week addresses all the concerns and taboos a prospective ex-pat in Colombia needs to know, such as finding the right job to tips on which people to filter out while surfing online dating sites. While other books focus solely on the tourist experience, The 3-Hour Work Week discusses the life beyond the typical gringo trail, providing you with an in-depth and often hilarious guide to Colombian internet culture, food, drinking, dating, health and relations with its socialist neighbor, Venezuela.

The 3-Hour Work Week is a true adventure story about a 37-year-old socially-awkward man who decided that the best way he could deal with being refused a job at Barnes & Noble was to go online and look for a girlfriend in Colombia, and then hop on a flight to Colombia’s cagey capital in pursuit of a woman he has never met.

Brian sincerely believed the trip would put him on a track towards a life of excitement, intrigue, and far from his increasing first world debt. Instead, he unexpectedly falls into a job as an extra in a Colombian soap opera, almost gets kidnapped during an eDate, has panic attacks, watches other gringos lose their marbles, and blows half his paycheck on bootlegged DVD’s. Along the journey, he chronicles his friendships, the deranged ex-pats he meets, and his struggles/triumphs, including one fateful night in a Israeli restaurant that would change his life forever.

Latin American Scams

May 13, 2014

The list of scams in Latin America is legendary.

If you go out drinking, never drink out of a beer bottle you didn’t open yourself, or else you will get roofied and chained to a toilet until all your money is successfully taken out of your bank account. Stay in a hostel and you will get hit up for money from other tourists who have “been robbed.” Go to an ATM at night and transvestites will grab your crouch as you are taking the money out of the ATM, when you push their hands away from your private parts they make off with the money. Go into a store and a man will walk up next to you saying, “Paloma, Paloma” (pidgin, pidgin). After that, he’ll pull some toilet paper out of his pants pocket and start wiping off the white stain (the supposed pidgin poop) on your backpack, as he’s doing this, he’ll slip his hand inside your backpack and take your camera. Get into a taxi to your hotel and the driver will supposedly get lost and drive around for 45 minutes looking for your hotel. By the time he finally gets there, your taxi fare has gone from $4USD to $50USD.

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For your next trip you decide to take the bus. While on the bus, never stand near the exit. If you do, two guys will stand behind you pretending to be about to get off. One of them will be carrying a large dry-cleaning bag with a hook on it which he drapes over your backpack. While you stand there clueless, his buddy will slip his hand into your backpack and take your camera, passport, jacket and whatever else is in there. But, not this time. Instead of playing the fool, you feel your bag being tugged at and you quickly grab your backpack and realize it has been opened. You stare at the two guys and then stare blankly into your empty backpack. “Are you sure your jacket didn’t fall out in the front of the bus?” asks the one with the dry cleaning bag. You subsequently make eye contact with the 45 other passengers in the bus like a wet cat, hoping someone else is going to throw you a towel. The rest of the passengers do nothing but stare out the window.

 

Take your clothes to be washed and you better make sure you count every sock and take a picture of it with the guy who you turned your dirty laundry in to. If not, when you get your clothes back anything worth anything will be gone.

 

Go out on a Friday night with your buddies from the hostel, this is the time when the least amount of people are in the hostel and therefore the most likely time for the lockers to be robbed. The whole second floor lockers of a hostel in Cali, Colombia got robbed by three hostel guests with fake passports on a Friday night at 11.30pm. They checked out of the hostel after robbing the entire second floor (rooms and lockers) and actually sent the passports back to the hostel via taxi.

 

Border crossings – By car of by bus? By bus you will be dropped off in front of immigration area. You will then stand in line until it’s time to get your passport stamped. You walk to the other side and you will be met by 15 different money changers who will show you the exchange rate on their digital calculators. “2.79 Peruvian Nuevo Soles for a dollar,” they tell you. Perfect, you hand the Money changer $50USD. What you don’t know is that right before he does the conversion, he uses an alternate exchange rate that is saved in the calculator’s memory. He uses this other exchange rate which is 18% lower. So, instead of getting 139.5 Nuevo Soles, you get 115. In Mexico they have taken this scam to the next level. The money exchanger will actually exchange your money into the old Mexican Peso (if you look stupid enough) which hasn’t circulated since 1994.

 

Speaking of Mexico, say you are crossing the border between San Diego and Tijuana at 3am in a 2010 model Mazada 626 with California plates. These three miscalculations will get you pulled over to the side of the road within 6 minutes of crossing the border by a Tijuana Traffic cop. “Speeding? Are you sure officer? I wasn’t doing more than 15 miles an hour.”

 

You will be given two options as a foreigner – either have your car impounded until you pay the fine of $139USD, or “We can settle it right now for $100USD.” Thanking the officer for expediting the process, you pull a wad of bills out of your shoe and pass it over to the officer. Instead of counting it, he stuffs the bills into his front pocket like the money was about to explode. He then asks you where you are going and gives you directions on how to get onto the highway.

 

Then finally you visit the prison in Quito, Ecuador. There you wait in the visitation line. While in line, you dump a bag full of money on the sidewalk in front of the prison and nobody will even look twice. Why you ask? The reason nobody will touch it is because every thief over the age of 8-years old knows they don’t mess with people who have friends in prison.

___________________________________

I Speak Colombian – The Book

When the country of Peru is mentioned, one imagines a peaceful scene of an Andean alpaca grazing along an Incan stone wall. When Ecuador is brought up, we imagine a rain forest panorama of frogs jumping off branches while butterflies mate in the background. When Colombia is mentioned, we automatically picture an overturned bus, being pillaged by men in ski masks. I think it is obvious, which country, a reasonable person like myself, would choose to go to in search of a beautiful Latin lover and a more fulfilling professional career.

000000000000000000000000000000px-Alpaca_en_Mapi

The 3-Hour Work Week: The Gringo Guide To Online Dating, Learning Spanish, Avoiding Deportation And Making Money In Colombia is designed to inspire people to maximize life experiences and escape an ordinary life. Inspired by the ideologies of the self-proclaimed “Internet Romeo/All-Star Budget Traveler/Worst English Teacher in Colombia,” it has been described as the holy grail for those who want to explore opportunities abroad and network with hot Latin singles.

This is the complete guidebook on how to relocate to Colombia and become an English teacher/freelance writer/actor. This book illustrates the many advantages (affordable health insurance, the lack of tipping in restaurants and affordable plastic surgery) that the gringo visitor can expect to find in Colombia.

Funny, fact filled and always informative, The 3-Hour Work Week provides the knowledge you need to make the most out of the Colombia experience, and/or makes a great coffee table book you can enjoy during the commercial breaks of the Jersey Shore. Jam-packed with practical information, The 3-Hour Work Week addresses all the concerns and taboos a prospective ex-pat in Colombia needs to know, such as finding the right job to tips on which people to filter out while surfing online dating sites. While other books focus solely on the tourist experience, The 3-Hour Work Week discusses the life beyond the typical gringo trail, providing you with an in-depth and often hilarious guide to Colombian internet culture, food, drinking, dating, health and relations with its socialist neighbor, Venezuela.

The 3-Hour Work Week is a true adventure story about a 37-year-old socially-awkward man who decided that the best way he could deal with being refused a job at Barnes & Noble was to go online and look for a girlfriend in Colombia, and then hop on a flight to Colombia’s cagey capital in pursuit of a woman he has never met.

Brian sincerely believed the trip would put him on a track towards a life of excitement, intrigue, and exotic women, far from his increasing first world debt. Instead, he unexpectedly falls into a job as an extra in a Colombian soap opera, almost gets kidnapped during an eDate, has panic attacks, watches other gringos lose their marbles, and blows half his paycheck on bootlegged DVD’s. Along the journey, he chronicles his friendships, the deranged ex-pats he meets, and his struggles/triumphs, including one fateful night in a Israeli restaurant that would change his life forever.

 

I Speak Colombian – The Book

May 12, 2014

When the country of Peru is mentioned, one imagines a peaceful scene of an Andean alpaca grazing along an Incan stone wall. When Ecuador is brought up, we imagine a rain forest panorama of frogs jumping off branches while butterflies mate in the background. When Colombia is mentioned, we envision a post-apocalyptic city full of overturned buses, being pillaged by men in ski masks. It is obvious which country any rational person would seek to avoid while searching for an internet bride.

DSC02273

“48,000,000 Colombians Can’t Be Wrong” is a true adventure story about a 37-year-old socially-awkward man who decided that the best way he could deal with a life sentence of microwavable burritos and 10-hour Facebook marathons was to look online for a girlfriend in Colombia and then hop on a flight to Colombia’s capital in pursuit of a woman he has never met.

During his first month in Bogota, Brian falls in with two white, self-assured backpackers who the author describes as, “…not the kind of guys who pump the brakes before going through an uncontrolled intersection.” He is then nearly kidnapped during an encounter with a woman he met online, almost becomes business partners with a Korean man in the “diamond business” and is forced to sleep in the DVD room of his hostel due to lack of funds.

Brian quickly regroups after his first month and auditions for the part of “congressional aide” in a Colombian feature film called “Left To Die.” He then lands a job as a writer for an English-language newspaper where his first interview is with a “suspected undercover CIA agent.” Brian then gets thrown off a TV set for refusing to take off his shirt from under his police uniform. While Brian is not getting thrown off TV sets, he marvels at all the discarded construction materials Colombians throw into pot holes to lessen their depths. Because of this strategy, a bus going over one of these open trenches (full of construction materials) will occasionally sling a chest-high brick through a group of panic-stricken pedestrians.

Brian sincerely believed this trip would put him on a track towards a life of excitement, intrigue and exotic women, far from his increasing first world debt. Instead, he unexpectedly falls into a job as an extra in a Colombian soap opera, has panic attacks, watches other gringos lose their marbles and blows half his paycheck on bootlegged DVD’s. Along the journey, he chronicles his friendships, the deranged ex-pats he meets, and his struggles/triumphs, including one fateful night in a Israeli restaurant that would change his life forever.

To view the complete book, go to …
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B015VWCXME?*Version*=1&*entries*=0