Caribbean Nights: César

But something much worse awaited me in Cartagena!

The last shall be first...

I don't like them all!! They are everywhere. In every city on the Colombian Caribbean coast.

The Césars. The incarnation of decades of European oppression.

Actually, it was an act of solidarity to go to the Zumba event with my companion. But today my karma seemed to have a bad day.

While the whole square, filled with Colombians, moved in sync with the Zumba choreography, I, in European style, nervously fidgeted alongside.

What was dancing for me probably looked like the last movements of a wounded animal to others....

Colombians are vain. In all aspects of life! By the way, plastic surgeries are a common birthday gift here, as they are very affordable. Hmm....

Zumba instructor César!

Black, muscular, tall. There he stands. Adonis himself. The testosterone and sweat-filled air now reaches even me, and I catch myself smiling!

While I'm still gasping for breath and wiping the burning sweat drops from my eyes, hoping it's just a dehydration-induced illusion, the black shiny mass of muscle and testosterone moves in rhythmic synchrony with the salsa music. No hallucination!

By now, I've lost any charm points of a clumsy gringo.

Humbled, I leave the place of horror and turn to...

Indulging in Colombian doner: Arepa (cornmeal flatbread) filled with chicken, cheese, ham, vegetables and amazing sauce. That's how you enjoy getting fat!

Well... More from the Caribbean coast will come a little later, actually as soon as I have electricity again... Yes, that's also Colombia's coast.