My Sixth Month in South America

This weekend it’s my six month anniversary with South America. Sadly, my love affair with this continent is the closest thing I’ve got to a loving relationship right now, but it’s cool ‘cos BAE got me feelin’ gooooood.

The last month of my trip has been hugely different to the five that came before it, in that I’ve finally started craving some routine and a bed to call my own. I’m also in no way ready to go home (it’s winter in England, don’t you know), and Medellín in Colombia is the perfect place to hang out (cheap/hot/fun), so I’ve decided to stay put for a  while.

Post-lurg playing around

After spending New Year here I got tonsillitis (completely deserved after several days of being boozy and wild), so I was confined to my bed in my 20-person dorm for a few days. My only source of entertainment was observing the strange behaviour of a Turkish man who was staying in my room. He wore the same clothes every day for five days (including to bed), smoked in the room despite being repeatedly told not to, and carried a plastic bag around with him that he used for spitting into. He apparently also had no idea how to flush a toilet. This man is the personification of why I love/hate dorms.

Once I’d recovered from my lurg, I did a couple more days of tourism before heading to a different part of the city to volunteer in a hostel for two weeks. I decided to do this so I could have free accommodation while I got my shit together and worked out what I wanted to do next, and it turned out to be a very eye opening experience. I’ve written a blog about the hostel because at times IT WAS INSANE, but I’m saving it for later down the line (such a tease).

I don’t know…

Something I will mention is that one boozy night I got a tattoo from a French girl who just happened to have a home-tattooing kit with her (she is in no way a tattooist). The tattoo should be the Spanish for ‘yes or yes’ (sí o sí), but we were both too pissed for grammar so instead it says ‘if or if’ (si o si). Ah well, it’s in a hidden place so at least nobody will see it – unless they ask me very, very nicely.

In the past week I’ve moved into an apartment with three German/Argentinian/Bolivian guys who are well cool. The place is super nice too, but has one minor flaw: the bathroom is in the very centre of our smallish apartment, and it has a window facing into the living area which is missing a pane of glass. Because of this, there are no bathroom secrets in our house, and I guess I’ll be saying goodbye to private pooing for the foreseeable future. But, rent is £150 per month, so I can definitely live with a bit of toilet-shame for such a ridiculously low price. The sacrifices you have to make to avoid working hard to make money, huh?

So, that’s where I am now: in my lovely new home in gorgeous, sunny Medellín, doing a bit of work before I go drinking and salsa dancing with my new Colombian girl gang (and some super cool gringo pals). What a happy thing that is.


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