Bowling in Bogotá

I wanted to go play basketball. Something fairly easy to do in the United States. But not so easy when you’re in an unfamiliar city where everybody warns you to stay vigilant. I look for someone in the hostel to go with me. I find Robby, an American-Jordanian duel citizen that tells me he likes south America because he can blend in. I tell him I don’t have the same luxury. The only place I might blend in would be Britain. Or Northern Michigan, where my flannel shirts are more uniform than fashion statement.

There’s a court nearby and we asked the hostel owner Gabriel if the area is safe. He said it was fine, but don’t “dar papaya.” Which just means don’t flash expensive stuff. We arrived to find no one playing basketball, but a couple kids were skateboarding.

“You mind if I try,” I asked one of them. They handed me the skateboard.

I try a kickflip and fall down.

They’re pretty impressed by my skills. I mean I am impressive. So it makes sense.

We headed back to the hostel and Robby says he might know of some courts but they are kind of far away.

“Do you have any plans today?” He asked.

“None.”

Robby and I hopped into an Uber, technically illegal, but ubiquitous in Latin America and often a bit safer than taxis.

“It’s a good thing you’re with me,” Robby said turning around to face me from the front seat.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I have good energy so nothing bad is going to happen.”

“Well that’s good,” I said, still feeling a bit nervous about being in Colombia.

“But if something bad does happen. It’s your energy.”

“Well that doesn’t feel quite fair,” I said.

Someone actually told me once that they “really liked my energy aura” and I made fun of them for about twenty minutes straight. I’m not sure how they felt about my energy after that. But I definitely felt better.

We got to his “courts” where I was confronted with an absolutely massive sports complex. It looked like something that Donald Trump might have built. The only hint that it wasn’t his is that it isn’t gold.

Inside it looks like an airport mixed with a hospital, all clean lines and vaulted ceilings.

“You need to be a member,” the lady at the front desk told us when we got there.

“How much to become a member?” Robby asked.

“You would need to go across town and ask the membership office,” she said.

“Is there any other way?” I asked.

“Well if a member invites you as their guest.”

Robby turned around to the guy in line behind us.

“Can we be your guest?” Robby asked him.

“Sure,” he said.

“To play basketball you need six people,” she told us.

“We have three.”

“Three people is not six people,” she told us. Assuming perhaps we couldn’t do the math ourselves.

“How about bowling,” Robby asked us, miming rolling a bowling ball.
Our new benefactor shrugged and it was decided.

“Okay for bowling you have to go to the other desk,” she said.

And then we bowled. Our benefactor Alchin, had never bowled before. His first attempt he ran at the line like a madman. He slipped falling flat on his bottom, but still manages to knock down a few pins. Robby starts off strong with a few strikes, and I a few gutter bowls. I come from behind to win the game and Alchin loses with a respectable 86.

He told us that he wants to travel to Canada and visit Toronto. It’s always a bit funny to meet someone trying to travel away from the place you just traveled to. Like how do you like it here? Well it’s okay but I’m working on getting out.

“Your energy is good,” Robby said, getting out of the taxi back at the hostel. “It feels like you could be on the Disney Channel.”

“I could be a star,” I said.

“I said you could be on it. No need to get ahead of yourself.”