Background info:
I'm a Glaswegian heading to Bogota for a year. Theoretically i can speak Spanish but in practice i speak a grotesque amalgam of Madrid slang and extremely formal "To whom it may concern" letter-of-complaint type Spanish taught to me at university. I was a teacher in a primary school in Madrid for a year with the British Council, and i'm repeating the same job in Colombia. Thankfully i'm working in a university this time round. Primary teaching was rather unkind to me. I leave for Bogota in a month and i have no idea what i'm letting myself in for.
In terms of preparation, i have a large leather suitcase which my father bought me from the charity shop, a full house of unpleasant tropical vaccinations (Hepatitis A, Typhoid, Polio, Tetanus and Diptheria are already in the bag. Yellow Fever's up this Friday at 5pm, immediately before a gargantuan piss-up celebrating my last-ever DJ night in charming Woodlands institution the Halt Bar as one half of Poporopo Especial, Glasgow's finest/only purveyors of all things musically Latino. Hope i don't faint.), and a copy of Bogota Bizarra, a guite to all things weird and wonderful in the Colombian capital. Those Bogotanos won't know what's hit them.
Wednesday 2 July 2008
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