Unexpected entertainment

As if it weren't awesome enough that you can go to the Colombian equivalent of a 7-Eleven, sit at microscopic tables, and drink beers, last night the experience got rounded out by a band. They came into this tiny place with giant amps, booted me and my friend out of our table (which the "waiter" parked in front of the entrance to the building next door), and were set up in like two minutes. When the accordian came out, we knew we were in for some vallenato, a uniquely Colombian style of music that is ubiquitous at clubs, on the radio, in taxis -- you name it.

Little did we know, this band was sponsored by Aguila (one of the Colombian beers). How did we find out? When they busted out and put on matching yellow vests with the Aguila logo on the front and the back. They looked like some kind of U.N. observer vests with a beer logo on them.

Ah, but when they got going, making conversation 100% impossible, they were a trip! First of all, they didn't suck, which was a relief. They had a lot of heart. The lead singer worked up a sweat from singing and playing what looked like a cheese grater. The accordian player -- also very sweaty -- closed his eyes and was clearly on another planet. The bass player, like many I have seen, actually, kind of stood off to the side, head down, and did his own thing. The only thing missing was his hair hanging down in his face. The guy playing the bongo drum just rocked out.

If I hadn't been starving (the yucca chips were just not cutting it), I would have insisted that we stay longer to people-watch if nothing else. There was a table full of young people plowing through beers like it was their job, a middle-aged couple serenely sitting next to one of the amps, and a lady with a laptop strapped to her chest offering free lighters and electronic gambling of some sort. Even my gross chicharrones that I had for dinner couldn't overshadow the fact that it was a great night to be in Bogotá.