Random Travel Notes

Bromeliads are, as I am sure you dear readers know, a large family of flora know as "Air Plants."  These types of plants have adapted to growing without the need for soil.  Many bromeliads grow in the crooks of tree branches, from pockets or cracks in rocks or cliffs, or dangle in the air from most anything that they can get a purchase on.  While traveling in in Azuero Peninsula of Panama,  I saw a type of bromeliad that could grow from the electrical wires strung between power poles.  Such was the verdant nature of this jungle region that life could cling to and prosper on the trappings of civilization.

In Medellin there is the phenomenon of Red Light Performers.  I am not speaking of Working Girls plying their trade, but in the literal sense.  If there is a busy intersection controlled by traffic signals there will likely be Red Light Performers.  I am quite familiar with street vendors who defy death by slipping through traffic to sell agua and snacks to drivers and passengers.  This is a common practice in all of the third world countries I have traveled in.  The Red Light Performers, however, are a novelty.  When the light turns red there is created, albeit very temporarily, a captive audience.  From the median or the corner will suddenly appear a performer, usually a juggler, and often riding a unicycle.  There are variations, such as perfomers playing musical instruments or simply singing a' capella, but most often it is juggling.  The act will go on as long as the light remains red.  The instant the traffic roars forward, and roar forward it does, the performer will scamper to safety.  I assume the the aim of the performance is financial gain, but I have yet to see how the transaction is conducted.  Perhaps drivers fling money in the general direction of the retreating performer.  I do not know.  I saw this played out over and over as I roamed the streets of Medellin.

I believe that there are a group of older Colombian gentlemen who enjoy farting in enclosed public spaces.  I am starting to believe that this is something of a sport.  Perhaps there is a league or organization of some sort, but of this I am not sure.  The farting, however, I am very sure of.  Planes, buses and mini-vans seem to be the favorite venues for this gaseous activity, but there may be others that I am unaware of.  I do, however, believe that I am on to something.  My theory is that the sport goes something like this.  An older gent, prior to entering an enclosed public space, goes to a local cafe that serves platillos typicos.  There he orders a Platillio Paisa which he then consumes in toto.  A Platillo Paisa is a traditional Antiochian dish, the proper contents of which are a subject of debate.  The contents of the Platillo must fit on one oval platter.  This is agreed to by all concerned.  The platillo is preceded with sopa, in a separate dish of course.  The acutal platter bears, at a minimum, ensalada, carne, frijoles, arroz, plantains, aguente (avacado), and a half of a stewed banana.  There may also be a slab of cicerone, jamon, or some other pork bits.  Platillo Paisa are, as one might imagined, a meal for an hombre' of prodigious appetite.  Once the platillo has been tucked away, the gent heads out for his chosen enclosed public space, he waits for nature to take its course, and then the sport begins.  So far the mini-van was the worst, but several buses and the Avianca flight deserve honorable mention.  It also seems, from my  limited reserach. that silence is a cherished art in this sport.