B-G in Bogota

(photo via Michael N. Escobar)

During my 5 hr flight back to Boston I wrote detailed notes on my laptop about the trip to Bogota. It was all neatly divided - traffic, weather, guerillas, smog, traffic, $1.50 for two dozen long stem roses, amazingly beautiful women, Jews, gentiles, etc.

But now after few days have passed I am still high altitude dizzy from this particular observation. In Bogota we were greeted by business associates. We went to have some drinks and chill out from the flight. The hot breeze of equator, pungent smell of exotic flowers it all paled in comparison to the direct sincerity of Columbian people. I looked at my colleague from Boston in amazement, both of us stunned and delighted by the directness of the conversation. Feelings and personal recollection free from the self censorship of political correctness, refreshingly curious open exchange, ready friendships, this all came as a drastic contrast to what we are accustomed to in the States. Wow, it donned on me, people actually mean what they say!

The treasure of an open human conversation is perhaps the true elusive Eldorado. But guarded, fake, emotionally detached politically correct jive is the fatal embrace back in New England. I have searched in vain for the alternative at the farbrengen tables, in pubs, in 770, Ivy League lecture halls. It does not exist on these shores. This is the central problem, the root of all evil, the devastating impersonal anomaly.