1. (1) E-mail from Bogota (May 13, 2003)

2. (2) Japanese Backpackers

3. (3) Esperantists in Bogota

4. (4) Beautiful and friendly people in Colombia

5. (5) E-mail from Bogota (Jul. 11, 2003)

6. (6) Motorcycle trip to the Hot Springs in Colombia

7. (7) What I saw in Bogota

8. (8) Leaving Bogota and meeting an Esperantist in Cali

(1) E-mail from Bogota (May 13, 2003)

Three weeks have passed since I arrived at Bogota, the capital of Colombia. Bogota is the first big city after I left Mexico City and its population is said to be around 9 million. In the east of Bogota there is a mountain range and the city center is located on the foot of the mountain. High-rise buildings surround the old colonial buildings. I am staying in a hotel in the area which was used to be the town center in the colonial days. The charge per night is as inexpensive as US$4, but the room is very comfortable and bright with a large window.

The elevation of Bogota is 2,600m. It is the highest city that I have ever stayed. Probably because I directly flew to the city without acclimating myself to the height, the condition of my stomach became really bad on the fifth day of my arrival and I was sick in bed for two days. It was my first experience in abroad. However, the climate here is like the autumn in Japan and is very comfortable to me after the heat in Costa Rica and Panama. Besides it seldom rains.

It is often said that Bogota is dangerous, but I don't feel any danger. The neat streets have many pedestrians. In addition, there are lots of beautiful women as rumor says, and the people are all as warm-hearted and .kind as the Japanese in the old days. I have met a lot of people including Esperantists in this city. As quite a few people of the city learn English and Japanese, my brain is in a mess with Spanish, Esperanto, English and Japanese. The other day I found out the telephone number of Hernan Patin^o whom I met 11 years ago when he was sent from Colombia by JICA (Japanese International Cooperation Agency?) to Osaka. I met him as well. He has an environment-related work in a hospital. When I visited him in the office, I met some beautiful women working there. I also met some beautiful school teachers, as Leonardo, an Esperantist who teaches English and is a person who can read even Chinese characters, asked me to speak about my trip in his classes.

Last Saturday I went to a hot spring resort with Leonardo and Pilar, a woman who is also an Esperantist and an English teacher. The resort was in the mountain valley with a small river flowing by. One of the thermal pools was hot and I couldn't stay in the hot water more than 10 seconds. I remembered a hot spring somewhere in Japan. Last Sunday I visited the house of the aunt of Milena, Hernan's fiance, together with Hernan and his 7-year-old daughter. The aunt's place is in two-and-a-half-hour bus trip in the south of Bogota. The town is located in the deep valley at the elevation of 600m. I sweated a lot after a long time. The view from the window of the buses to the hot spring in the mountain and the town in the valley assured me Colombia is a really beautiful country.

Nevertheless, there is a problem about guerrillas in this country. I was thinking about moving to the parents' place of Milena with her and Hernan by motorcycle this weekend, but I changed my mind. I will move to a town along the Pan-American Highway instead and will see other Esperantists, because I heard guerrillas would be active around that country town where the parents live. Frank, an Esperantist who was visiting Bogota from Cali which is the second largest city in Colombia, stayed in my hotel room for 5 days. He was waiting for the money sent from a Pacific coast town near Cali, but he couldn't receive it, because the guerillas destroyed the communication tower of the town the other day. I hear there are lots of guerrillas also in Bogota.

I will go toward Ecuador on the Pan-American Highway. Everyone tells me it will be safe if I ride during the day on weekends when the traffic is heavier. My travel from a town to town will be only on weekends, so my stay in Colombia will be two months.

(2) Japanese Backpackers

In Bogota, the capital of Colombia, I stayed in a hotel named "Hotel Aragon" in the old section of the city. The charge of the hotel was written to be US$7 a night in my guidebook, but was in fact slightly more than $4. At first I had an intention of staying in Bogota for only a week or ten days, but I have stayed in this hotel for three weeks because I like the city. This hotel is not a Japanese inn, as you imagine by its name. However, Japanese backpackers come to visit this budget hotel one after another. I have never met so many Japanese tourists before. On the wall of the reception a piece of paper of Japanese national flag with Chinese characters "Welcome" was pasted. It was like a Japanese inn. As the receptionist let me know every time when a new Japanese tourist arrived, I knocked on the door of the new comer. All of the Japanese tourists were men mostly with the age of between 25 and 30 and were having a long travel. The first man I met was Yuhi Gondo. On the second day of my stay in the hotel I went to the airport to receive my bike and came back to the hotel. Yuhi helped me pull the bike up over the stair of three steps at the entrance of the hotel. He had been staying in Bogota for nine months, teaching Japanese. He told me he had left Japan in July, 2001. It means he left Japan a month after me. He started his trip from the USA, traveled through Central America and arrived at Bogota. He is a good-looking man of 26. The reason for his long stay might be because he has found a girl friend here. Probably he had an idea to go further down south in South America, but I imagine his travel might end in Bogota. I am jealous of him. The backpackers I met next were Katsumobu Honda and Hiroshi Kitami. Katsumobu is from Tokyo and Hiroshi from Kobe. Both the men started their trips from the south of South America. They met each other somewhere at a Japanese inn and came to Bogota together. It took Katsumobu 4 months and Hiroshi 3 months to arrive at Bogota. Katsumobu will take a vacation till March next year and will travel around the world. I felt encouraged by the fact that there is such a Japanese company as to allow a leave of absence for more than a year. Hiroshi started his trip after passing the examination to be a judge or a lawyer. He will also travel around the world till November this year when the training for the passed will be held. The two men will fly to Panama soon and head north to the US.

The people I met third were Taichi Yoshida and Mutsufumi Kase. Taichi, 29 years old, is from Kurashiki and Mutsufumi, 30, from Kanagawa. Both of them at first visited Asian countries, then traveled through Africa and finally arrived at Bogota from the south. According to their story they have met each other not only in Bogota, but also somewhere in Africa. Taichi has been traveling for more than a year and Mutsufumi for a year and 10 months. On the way Taichi by himself climbed up to the peak of Aconcagua, the highest mountain in South America with an elevation of 6,960m. I heard that Naomi Uemura, who disappeared in McKinley, Canada, also climbed the highest peaks of the world during his backpacking. I was impressed to know there is still a backpacker like Taichi even now. Both the men will go back to Japan in the end of May or in the beginning of June. The journeys of the two men are almost ending. However, Mutsufumi told me he would go to Australia or some other country in order to learn English after staying in Japan for a while. On the other hand, Taichi will stay in Japan for the time being because his traveling budget is running out. But I suppose he will go on a trip again as soon as he makes money. His next trip might be made by motorcycle because he was interested in a trip by motorcycle. I drank and talked with the two men three nights in a row. They traveled in Africa and their stories were really surprising to me. The travelers whom I met last were Toshiaki Yokoyama and Yasushi Wakabayashi. Toshiaki is 28 from Kyoto and Yasushi, 36, from Tokyo. The two men have arrived in South America after Middle East, East and West Europe. The younger Toshiaki is finishing his travel around South America. He now seems to be short of money and so he will be back to Japan from North America soon. Yasushi has repeatedly returned to Japan during his journey and visited almost every places around the world. Unlike the other backpackers whom I met during the trip, he is heading to south in South America. Although he is going to the same direction as I, I am afraid I won't be able to see him again, for I will take more time in each country than him.

I met 7 Japanese backpackers at Hotel Aragon. I have never seen so many Japanese tourists in my trips abroad. All of those backpackers once got a job and worked, but set out on a journey. I believed that the Japanese young men have already lost their mental energy and that they don't want to travel anymore. But, I found that we have still lots of young men who travel in a way that hippies did in the past. I hear there will be more backpackers like them in the Japanese inns in the south. Among the backpackers from the West there are quite a few who find a heterosexual partner during the trip and travel in couples. On the other hand, most Japanese backpackers travel alone like me. I am making a limitless trip, but they are moving according to their plan even though it is not very precise. The traveling way in which they go alone, without being accompanied by a woman, in the places hard to visit like Middle East or Africa makes me imagine of clergymen or seekers after truth. I have been feeling a jealousy against the couples of Western backpackers and at the same time I have felt myself, who is making a lonely travel by myself, misery or awkward. But, after meeting the Japanese backpackers, I began to think that the style of their traveling is manly and nihilistic, and I now feel, on the contrary, it is cool.

(3) Esperantists in Bogota

Leonardo told me that there were lots of hot springs in the mountains north of Bogota. I am a hot spring freak. Once I hear a piece of good news like that, I can't wait. Soon I visited one of them with him. Leonardo had invited Pilar, a woman English teacher with whom he used to work. The ability of her speaking Esperanto is almost the same level as me. So the rhythm of our speaking harmonises well. In the bus of one-way trip of two and a half hours and in the hot spring resort, I spoke with her in Esperanto all through the day. The hot spring was on the bottom of the valley in the deep mountains. There were four thermal pools. The largest of them had a length of around 50m like an official swimming pool. I have bathed whenever I found a hot spring in Canada, Mexico and Central America, however, the temperature of the spring of any one of them was low. That allowed me to stay in the spring for longer time, but I was not satisfied enough. The Japanese like higher temperature. Fortunately, the temperature of one of the pools in that resort was high. I felt happy and jumped into the pool. But, it was too hot. I couldn't stay in the spring more than ten seconds. Indeed things hardly go well. As these two Esperantists are English teachers, they, needless to say, speak English. Ricardo is a medical student, however, he also speaks English. When I was staying in Honduras, I felt like adding a Spanish version to my Web page. That time Dania, who is the daughter of the owner of my apartment and a teacher of an elementary school, was on the winter vacation and offered to help me do it. I dared to correct the Spanish translated by a computer program. Dania corrected it again to the understandable Spanish. However, I couldn't translate most of my travel stories. After leaving Honduras I was looking for another teacher from Dania, but I couldn't find any. But, I have found at last. These three people will help me. All of them have a PC and will correct the mistakes in my Spanish travel stories on the Internet even after leaving Colombia. The update of my Spanish Web page that has been left behind for a long time will be soon.

When I was staying in the hotel in Bogota, I had a telephone call from an unknown person. He spoke in Esperanto. As his Esperanto was too fluent and fast, I, a poor Esperanto speaker, couldn't listen well. Meanwhile the line went dead. About an hour later, there was a telephone call again from the same person. I asked him to speak in English. He told me he would come to my hotel soon. Frank was that person. He was visiting the capital Bogota from Cali, a city 500 to 600km away from Bogota in the southwest, in order to get the visa to Russia. He told me he was looking for a place to stay. Fortunately there were two beds in my room and he agreed to stay in my room. As a result, he stayed in my room for five nights. He is 36 years old and a psychotherapist. He studied medicine in the Soviet Union for ten years. After returning to Colombia, he tried to get a license to practice medicine. But, he lacked finance. So he is not a medical practitioner in this country. He told me he would work in Russia for two or three years. Indeed people live a different life. I was thinking about flying over Colombia to Ecuador, because people told me that traveling in Colombia by motorcycle would be dangerous on account of possible molestation by guerrillas. However, I have come to Bogota because I had an Esperantist who had been waiting for me for a year and a half. I have met lots of Esperantists here. I visited the places that wouldn't be visited without those Esperantists, and I also met lots of people there. My trip to Colombia began with Esperantists.

(3) Beautiful and friendly people in Colombia

As the Pan-American Highway has a missing link near the border between Panama and Colombia, I sent my BMW by a cargo plane from Panama City to Bogota in Colombia. This area is the most troublesome part of this journey. In Bogota there are two airports neighboring each other. Arriving at the airport in Bogota, I went to the Information to ask which airport my bike would be transported to. A young woman at the Information was good-looking and very friendly. As she asked me if I knew a hotel to stay, I told her the name of the hotel that I had chosen in the guidebook. Then she told me she would make a reservation of the hotel for me by telephone. I knew the bike had already arrived at the airport, but I didn't have enough time to get through the procedure to receive it. On the day I was going to stay in a hotel without the bike for the first time in the trip. So I didn't need a parking lot. That meant I could stay in any hotel. I had the hotel booked and took a bus from the airport.The hotel I checked in was a good place in spite of its inexpensive charge. In addition they told me I would be able to park the bike in the corridor. I decided to keep staying in that hotel and I went to the airport to receive the bike. First of all, I went to the office of the cargo company Girag. A woman at the reception was also beautiful and friendly. Next I went to the customs office called the DIAN. As soon as I came into the office, a young man in charge asked me, "Are you Toru Matsumoto?". He soon filled in forms, saying "The procedure will be easier if you have a Carnet…". He said to me, "I will have to finish the forms of other people. So, please go back to Girag. I will also be there in 30 minutes". In fact he came to Girag about 30 minutes later. He checked my bike immediately and gave the permit of the bike to me. I had an anticipation that it would take 4 or 5 hours to receive the bike, but it was finished in an unexpectedly short time of one and a half hours.

When I rode over the bike to leave the airport at last, I was told to go through the storehouse. I rode the bike according to the indication and saw the large door closed. I was told to get the bike out through the corridor of the office. When I got through the corridor, I was surprised to find a stair of about 10 steps. The building, which was on the same level as the airport, looked as if it was constructed on the edge of the cliff. I told them, "I cannot get the bike down. Absolutely impossible!". Then, a man who seemed to be in a responsible position supported the other end of the handlebar that I held and 6 or 7 men came to help us. We got the bike down by one step, but we thought it would be impossible. So we lift the bike back. Meanwhile, one of them took a long wooden board from somewhere. As a result, the BMW could finally stand on the road of Colombia.

When I was going to pull the bike out from the storehouse, a man of Girag told me that there was a liquid leakage from the drive shaft. One of the workers showed me the way to a BMW dealer. The way was partly in the same direction to the hotel. I filled gasoline on the way. I asked the location of the dealer again by the way. The information from only a man is not enough in the countries around here. A worker at the gas station told me there wasn't a BMW dealer in the place I was told before. He looked in the telephone directory and called the dealer. The dealer was in the different location. I guess no one at gas stations in Japan will help this much.

A large BMW shop was found in the place I was told. The workers at any BMW shops do their job very effectively and in addition friendly. I felt the same thing also in Sony shops. I believe these companies give good education to their workers. Eduardo, a mechanic of the BMW, explained me that the leakage of liquid was the overflow caused by the high pressure in the drive shaft. I guesses the leakage, in fact, must have occurred from the lower air pressure of the environment in the airplane. I told Eduardo that I didn't know anything about the mechanism of my BMW because it was the first BMW I had ever possessed. The mechanic taught me about the bike precisely. The amount of the leaked liquid was negligible, but he asked me if I wanted the liquid replaced. I asked him the charge. He answered it would be free. I got the liquid change, however, in San Jose in Costa Rica and it was still fresh. I said, "No thank you". By the way, I told him that the safety switch at the side stand had been unstable and that sometimes the engine had not started. He took the switch off and disassembled it to show me. The switch was partly broken. At worst it was possible the engine wouldn't start at all. The replacement of the switch will cost a pretty money. If the safety switch is killed, I will be able to kick the side stand out with the engine working, and I will be able to smoke. I got the electric cable bridged before the safety switch. Finally I asked him to pomp up the tires. I asked, "How much?". He answered, "Free of charge, but let us put the sticker of our shop on your bike. Moreover, he gave me two belts that can be used for biding the luggage by the easiest handling. The Colombian coffee they served was the first one I took after my entering the country and it was very delicious.

There was a stair of three steps at the entrance of the hotel. Hernando, a worker of the hotel, put a wooden board over the stair so that I could get the bike into the hotel. The job was not very easy, as the board was a little short and covered only two steps. However, I could make it with the help of Hernando. On the 4th or 5th day after I arrived in Bogota, the condition of my stomach became bad. I am accustomed to throwing up and I usually feel better after throwing up. But the situation was different on that day. I was sick in bed for two whole days. Manuel, the owner of the hotel, served a cup of hot tea or milk several times to me, who was lying in bed without any food in the room. In Bogota I was trying to make a contact with Hernan Patin^o whom I had met in Osaka 11 years before. Because his old e-mail address was not available, I tried to find his telephone number in the telephone directory. There were 6 people with the same name as him. Manuel called to all of the six for me. The effort was in vain after all, but I was deeply impressed by his kindness.

There were lots of bars in the vicinity of the hotel. I heard the neighborhood of the hotel was relatively safe, but even so it would be dangerous at midnight. One day I went to a restaurant / bar for the first time by myself. The middle-aged owner of the place was a woman who paints a picture and gives an impression of an intellectual person. As I liked the atmosphere of the restaurant, I went back there again to drink beer on the following day. Probably being attracted by her intellectuality, customers like university professors who teach sociology and Oriental philosophy were visiting there. I drank and talked with them till 11 at night. The woman owner told me it would be dangerous and found a young man somewhere in the neighborhood who would escort me to the hotel.

One day Yasushi Wakabayashi, a Japanese backpacker who was staying in the same hotel, wanted to take pictures of good-looking women in Bogota and asked me to be accompanied by him. We went out of the hotel together. We asked young beautiful women at coffee shops and photo shops. All of them easily accepted our request, with gentle smiles. Japanese good-looking women are often arrogant, but in this city even the beauty are friendly. Most women of this city are good-looking, anyway.

Concerning the telephone number of Hernan Patin^o that I had mentioned above, I phoned the Embassy of Japan to ask the telephone number of the JICA (Japan International Cooperation Agency). Hernan was one of the trainees sent to Japan by the office of the JICA in Colombia and I expected that JICA had a name list of them. A person named Jiro Muramatsu answered the phone when I called there. He told me that he didn't have the telephone number of Hernan in the office, but that he might have it at home because he knows Hernan personally. I called Jiro again at night when he was back home and fortunately he had the phone number. I immediately called Hernan and he came to my hotel to see me. Eleven years ago I heard Hernan was the only motorcycle rider among the trainees sent to Osaka by the JICA. We made friends soon. As I had several motorcycles in those days, I wanted to have a motorcycle trip with him. He came to my apartment to stay overnight on one Saturday. He, however, hadn't taken a motorcycle international license to Japan. So we gave up a motorcycle trip and had a bicycle trip to the town of Nara.

When I came back to Bogota from the town in the valley and was thinking about leaving the capital for Ecuador, Hernan was planning to visit the house of Milena's parents, not that of her aunt's that time, the following weekend and invited me. The parents' house is in the farther south from that of the aunts', however, it is not so far away from the road to Ecuador. So I had an idea that I would ride a bike to leave Bogota. But, as I told that guerillas would appear in the district, I decided to leave my bike in Bogota and go by a car that Hernan borrowed from his friend. On Friday I moved to the house of Hernan from the hotel I had stayed, because his home is far from the hotel and we would leave early in the morning. Although I got up early in the Saturday morning, we wasted our time in picking up Milena and it was two and a half in the afternoon when we left Bogota.We had Hernan's parents in addition to his daughter Matzudy in the car. It got dark while we visited the place of Milena's aunt for the second time and it was 8:30 when we arrived at the house of our destination. On that night I drank Colombian "aguardiente" (liquor) with Hernan and Milena's father Cristobal, who teaches sociology at a school, till one o'clock. Following morning, we, including Milena's parents, headed toward a limestone cave after the end of a dirt road. The road was rough. Hernan had to suck gasoline through a pipe and pour it into the carburetor three times, because the pump sending the gasoline to the carburetor stopped working. The limestone cave was located in one-hour walk from the end of the dirt road. I didn't think I could walk such a long distance as my feet were not completely recovered. We thought about hiring horses, but we couldn't arrange seven horses. In addition, we couldn't find a guide. So we changed our mind and went to a nearby river with a small waterfall for bathing. It was very fresh to cool the body in the chill water in the jungle under the tropical heat.

Hernan has a job relating to environment problems at the municipal government of Bogota. He took me to the office where he works or the hospitals and introduced me to the various people. In the offices I also met lots of women, most of who were really beautiful. Among them there was Marcela. She is in charge of the registration of real estate on the first floor of the same office where Hernan works. When I was introduced to her, I thought that she and her coworker Martha sitting at her next window are both beautiful. So I took a video of them. All of the women workers were really friendly to me. Among all, Marcela winked to the video camera and talked to me a lot. Marcela said to me, although we met for the first time, "I am 28 with two sons of 8 and 4, but I am divorced". I told Marcela, "I will be back here again next week", but I couldn't do so because I was busy meeting Esperantists. In the meantime, about ten days passed. During the period Hernan gave me a message from Marcela several times that she said hello to me. And, I was thinking about leaving Bogota soon. As I felt I wanted to see Marcela again before my leaving, I went to the office with Hernan one day. When I was walking up to Hernan's office on the second floor, Marcel got out of the window and followed us to the stairs with a smile all over her face. While I was talking to her, I had an impulse to talk more and more. I encouraged myself and asked her, "Can I see you after work today?". She answered on the spot, "Yes".

From the following day I started attending the office every morning with Hernan to see her. I spent time in writing travel stories or e-mails in Hernan's office room till one o'clock when the lunch break of Marcela begins. Her work ends at four. That time my date starts every day. Hernan leaves the office for the hospitals or companies in the city every day. As I felt guilty for using my PC in the office without him day after day, I now go to the office before one when Marcela has a lunch break. From two when the break ends until four, I take my PC to a nearby restaurant and type the keyboard, drinking a cup of Colombian coffee for 13 cents. I met her two sons. I visited her home and met her mother, brothers and a sister. We are thinking about going to a hot spring resort with the two kids from the day after tomorrow when she has three days' vacation. I will get an extension to stay. If possible, I want to get another 4 months. If I can make it, I will be able to visit a hot spring resort with her every weekend. Now I am thinking about coming back to Colombia after traveling around South America.

(1) E-mail from Bogota (Jul. 11, 2003)

Nearly two months have passed since I moved to the home of Hernan whom I met in Osaka, Japan 11 years ago. During this period I visited thermal springs in the north of Bogota on the weekends. I was not completely satisfied because the temperature of the hot springs was not hot enough. However, it is good that a family can stay in a hotel for US$17. I also cooked Japanese food like "sukiyaki" and "mizudaki" for Hernan's family and his relatives. Against my anxiety they liked the foods. I was surprised to see some people used a raw egg as sauce for "sukiyaki". They were also very interested in using chop sticks.

Hernan has a work relating to environment problems for the municipal government of Bogota. He suggested me to give a lecture on air pollution to the environmental engineers who work for the city office. So I have been collecting data from the Internet and my Japanese friends and making the text by "Microsoft Powepoint".

The friend whom I met in a nearby bar works for a shop of leather clothes. Today I told him to order my motorcycle leather pants and jacket. I will go to the factory with him tomorrow. I asked him to use thick leather for the shoulders, elbows and knees. The price for the pants and jacket is about $125. The color of them will be blue.

Hernan has a three-story house adjacent to the airport. The day after tomorrow, on Sunday, we will move there. In August Hernan will move again to a new apartment with his fiancee Milena. I was told to move together and I will do so.

I will be staying in Bogota till around October 10 and go south to Ecuador.

(6) Motorcycle trip to the Hot Springs in Colombia

When I was staying in the house of Hernan's parents at San Carlos in the south section of Bogota, I went to drink to a nearby bar with Hernan and we met Miguel there. He is a student, but he has a side job of working for shops that sell leather pants and jackets. He told me the price of order-made pants and a jacket would be around US$115. As my leather riding suit was stolen in Mexico, I ordered a leather jacket and pants in blue, which is the same color with the helmet and boots.A 20-day vacation was going to be given to Marcela in August. However, two of her children would have school. So we decided to make a trip for the first time without the boys. It would be a 15-day motorcycle trip toward the border of Panama. I had never made a trip with someone on the passenger seat. Marcela had never experienced a motorcycle trip. I bought her helmet and boots and ordered a leather jacket and pants for her. Hernan bargained for me and the price of the jacket and the pants became $83. The riding suits for us two were ready just before the trip. We expected the care of the children would be taken by her mother who lives next-door and her brother and his wife who live in the same house. Furthermore, Marcela had asked one of her woman friends to sleep with the boys in the same bed. But, when Marcela told Harold, her son of eight years, about our trip, he began to cry loud. We though about the cancellation of the trip once, but finally decided to visit a hot spring that takes two days to reach, and to return to Bogota in five days. I remember the condition of the roads in Central America was bad, but somehow that of Colombia is really good. I was wondering about it. I pulled out the bike from the garage of the house near the airport and rode about two kilometers. Soon I found a tollgate. There were around ten of them before arriving at Ibague, a city about 200km in the west of Bogota. It is natural that the roads in Colombia are good. In addition to the road tolls, drivers have to pay for the gasoline of $0.52 per liter. So the travel by vehicle is expensive in this country with relatively low income. But fortunately, there is a narrow passageway to allow a motorcycle to pass through and motorcycle riders don't have to pay. This country has a much better system than Japan where most tollgates charge the same toll as automobiles on motorcycles.

Three of steep mountain ranges run from north to south in Colombia. Bogota is located in the eastern range and its elevation is 2,600m. Santa Rosa de Cabal, the hot spring resort of destination, is in the middle mountain range. To reach there, you have to cross the deep valley. Bogota is in the tropics at latitude of 5 degrees north, however, it is rather cold due to its high altitude. In August it got colder than in May when I arrived. So I left Bogota, wearing the newly tailored riding suit and winter gloves. As I descended the mountains, it got hotter. The tropical heat was waiting for us at the bottom of the mountains. I took off one of the shirts, replaced the winter gloves with the summer ones and in addition opened the zipper of the leather jacket. But, the sweat sprang out.

There is the city of Ibague when you go up the mountain for a while after crossing the valley. As you have gained in height, it is not so hot. However, the hotel had a swimming pool and it is never cool. We stayed there. In the following morning we rode up the mountains for more than an hour and a half. The constant ascend of one hour and a half hours means the elevation is high. The pass was 4,000m high. It is higher than the peak of Mt. Fuji in Japan. There was snow on the top of the higher mountain that was seen in the north of the pass. Halfway down the mountain there was a police check. I had a feeling of impending bad luck, and in fact they stopped us. I showed my driver's license, passport and the permission of the extension of the bike. I had experienced police checks many times in the countries in Central America, however, the police easily let me go. But, the attitude of the police was different that time. A young policeman came to insist that traffic insurance was necessary. Needless to say, I didn't have. The police ordered us to leave the bike there and to pay the fine of $100. Marcela called Hernan by the cellular phone that she had borrowed from her brother. Hernan, who was working in the office then, made a phone call to the Ministry of Transportation and got the information that foreign tourists don't have to buy the insurance. But the police wouldn't listen to it. I handed $14 of a bribe to Marcela in case. I told the police that I would buy the insurance if necessary. Two of the young policemen rode on a police bike and led my bike to an insurance company. I was told that they had only one type of insurance valid for one year costing $140, but I thought I had to buy it. However, because of a lunch break I couldn't make it. Then we were taken to the police station. Considering the fine the police asked me, I called the Japanese Embassy asking for the help. I had never asked the assistance of the Embassy for the past 30 trips abroad. The staff didn't know about the insurance and answered me he would call me back after investigation. But there was no answer later. One of the policemen got the permission to go to another insurance company with me from his boss. He rode my bike with me on the passenger seat. He liked my bike and his attitude softened. At the insurance company that we visited, I was told that the insurance could be purchasable only at the main office. After all, Marcela gave the money to the police and we were released. As we were under restriction of the police and wasted half a day, we decided to stay in Armenia that has the main office of the insurance. I decided to buy the insurance, because I was afraid of being caught by the police again in some other place. The main office told us that they wouldn't sell the insurance because they were closing the office, but Marcela asked them and they sold us. Moreover, they exceptionally sold a 3-month insurance to me. The price was as inexpensive as $28.

A week later, I visited once again the hot spring at El Rancho, this time by bus. I was accompanied by, needless to say Marcela, Marcela's mother Fany and their three children. The younger boy of Marcela and the son of Fany are the same age. Both of them are four years old. That means Marcela's older son of eight years has an uncle four years younger than him. This sounds a little strange to me. We stayed two nights at El Rancho. Unbelievably numerous stars were shining in the sky that looked like the one seen from the bottom of a well. On the ground in pitch-darkness fireflies were emitting light competing with the stars. It was a valley without electricity, but the valley was abundant with light from nature. I have visited four hot spring resorts in the north of Bogota. Any one of them is excellent, but never better than these two places. Before leaving Japan, I imagined that if I missed something about Japan, it would be only hot springs. And in fact, I sometimes missed the hot springs of Japan. But I won't anymore, if I keep staying in Colombia.

(7) What I saw in Bogota

Bogota, the capital of Colombia, extends on the high plain enclosed by the mountains that have an altitude of nearly 3,000m. In the middle of the skirts of the mountain range there is the oldest section of Bogota called “Centro”, where colonial streets, churches, and squares are preserved. There are lots of hotels in this section and most tourists stay around here. Surrounding the old town, lots of high-rise buildings stand. This is the central business area of Bogota. Straight away from here to the west there is an international airport on the city border. Roughly speaking, the northern part of this east-west axis of Bogota is a rich and safe area and the southern part is a poor and dangerous area. I stayed in a cheap hotel of the Centro for three weeks after arriving in Bogota and then moved to the house of Hernan’s parents in the south-east of Bogota to stay there for about two months. Now I live in Hernan’s place with him in Puente Grande, the area neighboring the airport in the south. My girlfriend Marcela lives in Buenos Aires, the section in the mountain of a neighboring city of Bogota in its south-west.

The streets in San Carlos, where there is the house of Hernan’s parents, are paved, but poorly maintained with lots of potholes. The buses going on those roads jump and sway a lot. In Puente Grande and Buenos Aires, however, the roads are scarcely paved. Especially in Puente Grande where I live, the roads raise a dust on a clear day and once it rains they turn to be so muddy that pedestrians cannot walk. On the other hand, the road condition is good in the northern part of the city that has high-class residential areas. In the city like this two lines of the 2-car buses called “TransMilenio” run through. One of them runs from north to south along the foot of the eastern mountain and the other along the northern side of the east-west axis. The TransMilenio has a fixed fare. When I arrived in Bogota, it was ￠36, but recently it was raised to be 40. The TransMilenio has its own exclusive 4-lane road in most part of the lines and large stations, which are beyond the image of usual bus stops, roughly at every 4 blocks. As the route map is served at the stations, even travelers who are foreign to the city can easily use it. TransMilenio is a public bus service. But the real transportation for the residents is no doubt the buses of private companies, which crisscross the city. The numerous buses, from big buses to minibuses with around 15 seats, run around the city, even to the alleys. Like the TransMilenio the fare of those private city buses is fixed, but 10 to 20 % more expensive. There aren’t bus stops. As you can get on or off the bus at any place, you can be transported from door to door like a taxi if you can find a proper bus. The buses come frequently and you can catch a bus usually within ten minutes. So this bus system is very convenient, but the problem is that you can’t know which bus to take in the beginning. It would be very helpful if there were the same kind of route map as the TransMilenio, but I guess it wouldn’t be possible on account of its too complicated network.

I came down south from Mexico to Colombia. Bogota is a big city after Mexico City. In the city lots of wide streets run through and at major intersections traffic lights are equipped and in addition there are even grade separations and overpasses. These traffic lights can be seen from the cars, but somehow not from the pedestrians. The government seemingly gives priority to vehicles. Moreover, traffic lights are not so many as in Japan. So crossing the street is a matter of life and death. A certain mark is painted in white on the road. It indicates that someone was killed by a traffic accident on that place. This mark is seen in surprisingly many places of the roads. Bogota has the same problem of heavy traffic as Mexico City and these two cities make a bold traffic regulation. While in Mexico City 20 % of the vehicles are not allowed to drive all day long, in Bogota the regulation is applied only to the rash hours in the morning and evening. Probably thanks to the good effect of this policy, Bogota doesn’t have so serious traffic jam as the big cities of Japan.

Motorcycles also go on the road like this. Most of them are off-road bikes of Japanese-make with an engine of less than 200cc. All the riders wear a helmet with a registered number. In addition, they also wear a vest that has the large size of the same number made with fluorescent cloth. I hope this vest won’t bother those riders, as it is rather cold than cool in Bogota. But, it would be terrible if this vest were applied to the Japanese riders who ride in the scorching heat of summer. I think I can understand if the vest is worn to enhance the conspicuousness of riders at night, but the riders are obliged to wear it even during the day. There was a surprising reason for this. The real purpose of it lies in the prevention of crime. Robbing by riders with passengers happened frequently in the large cities like Bogota or others. Putting the numbers is a countermeasure for this crime. But anyway, it is a really nuisance to riders. Fortunately I am not in duty bound to wear the vest, because I am a tourist and I am not allowed to register my bike in this country. Nevertheless, I don’t feel like riding in Bogota, because I don’t know well about the streets and because most of them are one-way streets. I always take a bus and my motorcycle enjoys a long sleep in the garage.

The fare of buses is around ￠33. As a Japanese tourist, I feel it inexpensive. What is inexpensive is not only the bus fare in this country where a monthly salary for low-income families is reported to be approximately US$85. Everything is cheap. A cup of coffee costs ￠13, a small bottle of beer ￠29, a 4-liter bag of drinking water ￠33, a pack of cigarettes ￠38, the lunch of the day ￠67. I now sometimes buy food like meat and cook dinner for about ￠42. The charge at a cybercafe is ￠38 to ￠50 per hour. A monthly house rent is around $330 in a high-class apartment in the north, but it is around $38 in Puente Grande where I live and $17 to $33 in Buenos Aires where Marcela lives. The house of Hernan where I live now has three stories with a large garage on the ground floor. The construction cost of the house was about $8,300. It is nearly the same price as my BMW. I didn’t even think about buying a house in Japan, but it would be possible here if I wanted. I think myself rich now and I feel happy.

Buenos Aires where Marcela lives is also a poor area, where brick houses cling to every space of the slope of a mountain. There exists no walls here. From Marcela’s house near the top of the mountain, the landing of the airplanes can be overlooked in the distance and the beautiful night view, in which Bogota turns into a sea of light, can be appreciated. But this area is supposed to be one of the most dangerous places in Bogota. People say that there are lots of guerrillas living in this area. Probably because of this, soldiers are stationed on the middle point of the mountain slope while there are not any walls and guards. The camp is enclosed by sandbags and a lot of small holes are made for shooting. I have seen this kind of place in the war movies, but I have never seen the real one. Truly this place could be dangerous. I have been staying in Puente Grande for half a week and in Buenos Aires for the rest of the week since August. There aren’t any tourists but me in these two areas. Strangely, plenty of dogs are proudly walking around the streets instead. I believe they must be at home if they are watchdogs against robbers. Are they merely pets? Although everyone tells me this area is not safe, I don’t feel so. I am afraid of those dogs rather than men. In fact the Centro with tourists must be more dangerous. Over there someone once stole a new pair of leather gloves from a packet of my backpack. Some other time when I was followed by a band of robbers, I had to jump into the nearest taxi to escape from them.Against the rumor, these two poor areas are rather safe, but there is a problem. It is water. In Buenos Aires water is seldom supplied by the government in spite of the fact that water pipes are laid to the houses. I have seen several times the people carrying a bucket of water to their house. In addition even after getting water, they have to pull the water up into a water tank on the roof. The water tank, however, is not big enough, and so the water for the flash toilet or the shower is not available. You have to wash your face with a glass of water. In the house of Puente Grande, on the other hand, water was always available in the garage on the ground floor from the first day when we moved there. On August 1, the building of a kitchen and a bathroom was finished on the second floor that we have our bedrooms just in time for my birthday party. Six of my friends came to the party and they celebrated my birthday, cooking “mizudaki” in the newly built kitchen. We had a fantasied hot shower at last in the bathroom. But, about three weeks ago there was an accident in the water supplying facility and the water was cut. Several days later water in expectation came back, but soon later another accident happened. Water doesn’t come out even now. We have to use the drinking water in a bag for washing the face and brushing the teeth. Although the water is cheap, I feel it wasting.

I mentioned above that I don’t feel much danger both in Puente Grande and in Buenos Aires, the areas with bad reputation, however, Colombia is not as safe as Japan. Guards are checking the bags of customers at the entrance of large-scale supermarkets accompanied by a ferocious-looking dog. On entering the building, you are required to leave your belongings such as a backpack. An inspection of belongings is also made at public facilities and a presentation of your ID is required. They do this in order to prevent the smuggling of dangerous things into the building or the takeout of unpaid articles from the inside. I had an idea this was too much. But my idea was wrong. One day I went to the cybercafe as usual. Going into the cafe, I felt something wrong. I was told, “You can’t connect your computer”. Looking around there, I found a server and all the four PC’s were missing. The shutter of the entrance was broken and the thick aluminum rods that had firmly fixed the displays and the computers were all cut apart. The cafe was reportedly plundered at four in that morning. To tell the truth, this cafe was not the first victim. During the past several years 4 or 5 other shops have been robbed. There are actually lots of robberies in this country. Robbery is like a traffic accident and does not happen every day. What matters more to the impatient Japanese is that the people over here don’t keep time. The fact that Latin Americans are not very punctual is written in many books and I have read a lot about it. In Honduras I heard that the people are usually late for a party one or two hours. Also in this country, you have to prepare yourself for the delay of one or two hours when you see someone. Time flows slowly in the countries of Latin America. I believed I was ready for it. Or, I thought, on the contrary, it might be better than in Japan where the people are busy and always preoccupied by time. I spent half a year in Mexico and Honduras, respectively. Mexico is a large country and half a year passed on while I kept moving from one place to another. In Honduras I confined myself in a small town, learning Spanish by myself every day. In Bogota of Colombia, however, I have visited lots of places and met lots of people. In the meantime I sometimes irritated about their slow pace for anything.

First of all it happened at a government office. When I entered Colombia, I got a permit to stay for two months at the airport. That time I had an idea to stay in Colombia only for about a month and so I didn’t ask a three-month permit. Concerning the motorcycle, a three-month permit was given to me. However, I had to get a permit of extension, as I extended my stay later. Concerning my immigration, the permit was easily issued, however, its period was two months and valid till August 23. As the permit for the bike would expire on July 24, I took the passport with a stamp of extension permit of two months and went to another government office. The officer easily said to me, “Yes, yes. Motorcycle? We will give you another three months. The paper will be ready the day after tomorrow”. I went back on that day. The permit was not ready. So, I asked them to give me a call when ready. Four or five days later there was a phone call from the office. Because I didn’t understand Spanish well, I asked Elio, a brother of Hernan, to talk on the phone. I got the message that some forms lacked and that the extension would be given only till August 23. To make bad things worse, they told me that they couldn’t admit the extension more than once. If so, I would have to leave Colombia in four months while I wanted to stay for six months. I was put in a pinch. To come out of the predicament, I decided to ask one of Hernan’s friends, who has connections with the government office, to do the job for me. He needed money, probably for bribes, and I gave him $55. It is a large sum of money in this country. In spite of a long time spent for it, the period of the extension for the bike was not three months, but till September 4. Soon later, I had to get the second permits. To begin with, I had to get again the extension of my immigration that was valid till August 23. In those days I was thinking about leaving Bogota for a motorcycle trip in Colombia on August 8, and so I went to the immigration office on August 5. The officer insisted that they wouldn’t give the permit by August 15, however, I eagerly asked the person for it and finally got the permit for another two months. I believed that the following procedure for the bike would be easy, because I had already paid. I immediately gave the papers to the agent mentioned above. He said that he would get the permit for me without fail and soon, but the permit hasn’t reached me yet after 40 days, in spite of more than 50 prompting calls by Hernan.

I found leather that looks like jeans. As I have never seen this kind of leather in any country of the world, I ordered a pair of pants made of this leather at a leather clothes shop. The shop postponed finishing the pants, as it often happens, several times, and finally informed me that they wouldn’t be able to make the pants because they couldn’t acquire the leather. The other shop told me they could make it for a double price. I got angry at last and decided to find the leather and someone who would tailor the pants for me. I couldn’t find any person, but I found a shop that would tailor for a cheaper price. Because I had bought the leather more than necessary, I ordered a jacket, a pair of gloves and a cap besides a pair of pants. I visited the shop one day after the appointment, but nothing was ready. They said, “All will be ready at eleven tomorrow morning”. I went to the shop at the appointed time, but there was nothing ready but pants. This shop postponed the appointment several times as well. The people of this country often say, “Yes, yes. Immediately. Sure. No problem”, but in most cases you can’t take their word for it. But anyway, the labor cost of the people who make leather and leather goods is cheap. I am now thinking about exporting leather jackets, pants, shoes, caps, gloves and so on to Japan, when I come back to Colombia a year later, although I am a little worried about the people who don’t keep their word.

Nearly five months have passed since I arrived in Bogota. During the period, I, as one of the Japanese, began to feel, as I was afraid, uncomfortable with the more degree of freedom that Latin Americans have. I think I will have to change impatient myself if I want to work with them. I wish I would be able to understand even a small potion of Buddha’s idea through this travel. I am sure I will have to learn more.

(8) Leaving Bogota and meeting an Esperantist in Cali

Thursday, Oct. 9 was Marcela’s birthday of her 29 years old. As my permission to stay in Colombia would be till Oct. 23, I had an idea to leave Bogota and to head to Cali, a city on the way to Ecuador, to meet an Esperantist and a Japanese tourist JS, after celebrating her birthday. However, I looked at the calendar and found that Monday, Oct. 13 would be a national holiday. I told Marcela about this and she told me she would ride with me on the passenger seat to see me off in Ibague, which is located in a distance of four-hour trip from Bogota. Near Ibague there is the hot spring of El Rancho where we visited two times before. We decided to go there on the 11th. I sent my luggage by a transportation company to the house of Alirio, the caretaker of El Rancho, in Ibague.

Alirio had already received my luggage by his small truck. Marcela and I packed our things and left the house for the hot spring in the mountain by the truck that Alirio drove. It was three and a half when we finished lunch and some shopping in the center of Ibague. It was already five when his truck with other tourists arrived at the end of the mountain road. We had to walk for an hour as horses were not arranged for us. When we arrived at the hot spring, dusk was falling. Two days passed in next to no time and Monday came. Marcela went back to Bogota by bus at three in the afternoon. It was a farewell with tears. I hadn’t shed a tear since I left Michael’s house in California nearly two years ago. That time I hid my tears with sunglasses when saying goodbye to Michael. Later, however, I couldn’t fight back tears on the bike. This time I couldn’t fight back tears in the presence of Marcela. I had never felt parting was so sorrowful. I went back to Alirio’s ranch soon after I saw off Marcela. I had virgin milk from the ranch. At first I thought it was condensed milk. The milk was incredibly much more viscous than any milk sold in the market. The milk was sweet and unbelievably delicious.There is a 4,000m-high pass between Ibague and Cali. When I crossed over the pass before, there was a police check in the middle of the downhill and the police ordered me to buy traffic insurance for the bike. As a result, I wasted a half-day. This time it began to rain hard on the way to go up the mountain. And, I was stopped by the police again at the same place. The police check was quickly over this time as I had the insurance. In the rain I was trying to put the passport, an aluminum case that kept my plastic driver’s license and two ATM cards, and the 4-page extension permission for the bike into the money belt. I couldn’t put the permission papers back into the belt. I tried several times and finally put them into the tank bag instead. And, I left the fastener open.

A drivers’ license and ATM cards are most important things. Whenever I feel anxiety about those plastic cards, I stop the bike and make it certain that I have them with me. I got worried and stopped the bike also this day after riding about an hour. The fastener is open and the aluminum case with the three important cards is missing! I went back to the place of the police check, gazing at the surface of the other lane I had come. But, one can hardly expect to find that kind of thing on the road. I tried to nullify the ATM cards by the Internet to prevent the dishonest usage of the cards by someone, but both banks didn’t have menu to allow this in their Web pages. So I sent an e-mail to my brother, asking him to report the banks and to have new cards made. Concerning the license, I had made a scanned copy of it in my PC. So, I had it printed on a piece of good quality paper used for a photo and had it laminated by plastic. I got a fake license that looked like an authentic one. Any policemen in South America don’t know, I hope, a Japanese driver’ license is made of plastic. If the license is revealed to be a fake, I will show the certificate of its loss issued by the Colombian police. And if this doesn’t work, I will show the Spanish certificate issued by the Japanese Embassy in Honduras that I have an authentic Japanese license.

This incident delayed my arrival at Cali by a day. Rafael Meija, an Esperantist in Cali, is a person who got my address from other Esperantist and gave me an email after my arrival in Colombia. He is the president of Colombian Esperanto League. Rafael wrote that I would be able to stay in his home. I had an idea to stay in a hotel instead, because it would be easier to find a hotel by my guidebook that has a good map of hotels and also easier to find an Internet cafe in the center of the city, and in addition because I would be able to smoke freely. I couldn’t see him on the day of my arrival as he worked late at night. However, had made contact with his niece Paola for me. Soon after I gave the telephone number of my hotel to his family at home, Paola called me at the hotel. I visited her home that night. She was three months pregnant, but wasn’t married. However, she had been living with her future husband Julio for more than a year. This way of her life is very unusual in Latin America where marriage is important to women. Late at that night there was a call from Rafael. He told me that my hotel was in a dangerous area and suggested me to stay in Paola’s place. So I stayed there that night. At past eight of the following morning, Paola and I went together to the telephone company where she works. I was supposed to see Rafael there. It is well known that the people of Latin America don’t keep to time, but Esperantists are exceptional. He came to the office several minutes after we arrived. I met Rafael for the first time. He is a short man wearing eyeglasses. Supposedly he must be in his late fifties. He speaks fluent Esperanto, however, he spoke slowly and clearly to me. He is a generous and warm person. As he had to work in the afternoon, we spent time together in the morning. After talking in my hotel room, I was accompanied by him to the places where I could make a fake license. It took a long time and we couldn’t have lunch at his home, though I had been invited.

At eight in the morning of the next day, Rafael visited me at the hotel on time. He took me to an archaeological museum. An attendant of the museum guided us to give an explanation of the articles. As I couldn’t understand his explanation, Rafael interpreted in Esperanto. It was Friday that day. Rafael teaches Esperanto on Saturday mornings. He had to buy a cylinder-shaped case for the teaching materials and I followed him. Later we had lunch together. He paid for me. After having lunch, we promised to see each other someday again and then he went to his office.

I went back to the hotel and read the information about the border-crossing in the guidebook. When I was reading about the exchange of money, I remembered that on the previous day he asked me to remind him to give me back the money that he had kept for me. The reason that he, whom I met for the first time, had kept my money is that Frank, another Esperantist in Cali, left the money I had lent him with Rafael. That time Frank was visiting Bogota to get the papers like a visa to Russia. He stayed in my hotel room for five nights. He couldn’t received money from his bank as the guerrillas destroyed the communication tower. So I lent him money. Both Rafael and I didn’t remember this when we exchanged goodbyes. So I called his home. I couldn’t make contact with him in the office. Receiving my message from his family, Rafael came to my hotel again with the money at night. People say that there are lots of robberies in the countries of Latin America and that the people living there don’t keep to time. But, Esperantists are exceptional.

There is an old town called Popayan about 130km south of Cali on the way to Ecuador. From this town to the border in the south, guerrillas are reported to be active. I basically respect the guerillas who risk their lives for the revolution. But according to the rumors, the guerrillas of this country seem to be different. This country is worldwide notorious for its trade of drugs. Years ago it was reported that the syndicate that was involved in drug business in this country was stronger and bigger than the government. The USA then suffering from the drug contamination swept the syndicate away in cooperation with the government of this country. Then later, the guerrillas reportedly took the business of the syndicate. In addition, they kidnap people for ransom. Moreover, they look for even motorcycle tourists as a victim. I had an idea that I would ride through this area on weekend when it is safer with heavier traffic. I left Popayan in the early morning on Sunday of the 19th. After around one-hour riding, six to seven heavily-armed trucks full of soldiers passed by in the oncoming traffic. Around the top of the mountain I saw lots of soldiers standing on the side of the road with a gun. It was just like a war. I felt, on the contrary, safe. I was protected by the soldiers. I became not to be afraid of anything, because I had lost three of the most important cards. In Popayan I even visited by bus a hot spring in Coconuco which is located in one-hour trip into the mountain although Rafael told me it is a dangerous place to visit. I wouldn’t have many things to lose anymore, even if I had an attack from the guerrillas. Nevertheless, I was still afraid of the guerrillas, and so I rode faster than usual. Usually I was overtaken by cars, but the situation was different on that day. Hoping to get through the dangerous area as soon as possible, I overtook the cars. There wasn’t any car that overtook me. To think reasonably, my motorcycle is a BMW. It is substantially more rapid than cars. I even had thought about transporting the bike before, but I decided to go on my bike. And fortunately, I didn’t encounter the guerrillas. This area, which was reported to be dangerous, seems to be in calm now. Colombia, where I stayed for six months, is not such a dangerous country as rumor says, but a good country. I will be back to this country in a year.