The Shower

This past weekend, three friends and I drove to Barranquilla to see the Carlos Vives concert and shop. We left right after school and made the two hour drive to El Prado, our hotel.  As most people know, I very rarely stay in anything nicer than two stars; it just adds to the experience.  This hotel had five stars posted outside, but it was probably closer to a four.  (That's right: I'm now a hotel snob.) This is what I get for traveling with rich-minded girls.  Elizabeth and I shared a room at the very end of a long corridor.  

After eating pizza and touching up our makeup, we headed out.  The pre-act was supposed to begin at seven and Carlos Vives at nine.  Maybe I should preface this by saying the people here love Carlos Vives.  Here is a peek at what he can do:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CJ_zRSv3Hr8&index=1&list=AL94UKMTqg-9BHMEp0bVKNNrD-pN7vbQjd

I actually enjoy his music, but it's not my all-time favorite.  Leah, on the other hand, has already been to one of his concerts and was really looking forward to seeing him again.  

When we arrived at the stadium at 7:20, there was a mile-long line to get into the VIP section.  We had a bunch of rambunctious teenagers behind us, which surprised us as we thought most people would be middle-aged.  Boy, were we wrong.  The line moved along slowly, and after half an hour, we were halfway to the entrance.  It was about this time that the clouds broke open and rain fell.  At first, it was just normal rain.  Men came out and started selling either garbage bags or ponchos and asking five bucks a pop for them.  Great business strategy.  Agreeing that most rain only lasts for less than an hour in Colombia, we decided against getting any covering.  That is, until the coulds started dropping buckets, and my straightened hair was no longer recognizable.  Christy dealed with a guy so we could all have ponchos for three dollars apiece.  The man helped me put mine on over my soppin' wet clothes, and it was just in the nick of time.  For the rest of the evening, the rain never stopped and sometimes fell so hard that it felt like I was being beaten.  

With just about everyone wearing a white, cone-shaped poncho, it looked like a meeting with the Klan was getting ready to start.  People were jovial, though, with the camaraderie of being in a miserable situation together.  

Picture this: Hundreds of cattle being corralled through a small gate...with stairs leading down into the pen...blinded by bulky, white, plastic bags billowing all around.  Put in small lakes and muddy walkways, and you have us entering the open-air stadium.  

We found an open, grassy area to stand and wait.  As the rain fell, we were soon sinking into the wet earth.  Ironically, the cheap

 tickets were the only seats in the place, and the stands were covered.  Those people had it good.  

Has anyone ever seen The March of the Penguins?  Do you recall when all the males would huddle close together with their eggs on their feet during the brutal winters?  That's how we were.  Several people had already started the festivities with their liquor bottles and shot glasses.  I give them credit: by drinking the night away, they definitely would have had to use the unlit port-a-potties.  That's not so bad, right?  Yeah, until you wade through the river to get to the johns with who knows what floating in there.  I decided to hydrate myself later.  

As the hours passed, there wasn't much to do but people watch and hope lightning wouldn't cause my sudden death.  Not to keep referencing movies, but I know most of you remember In Search of the Castaways (Well, maybe not you, Mama and Dad, because for some reason, you were always "out" when we watched it.).  The French-accented people were singing in the trees, cooking bird eggs and having a jolly good time.  All of a sudden, a huge storm came, and we all learned how to tell how close lightning is.  That's all that kept going through my mind while getting drenched and viewing these spectacular displays of lightning zigzagging across the sky.  At first, the storm was right over us, and the boom of thunder made everyone jump and squeal a bit.  Eventually, it moved further along to terrorize some other pour souls.  

Have I mentioned the concert was supposed to start at nine?  Ten o'clock rolls around, and some guy gets on the stage and lip syncs two songs.  Perfect.  Carlos should be on stage soon.  Instead, they play with the lights for a while, turn on some dancing music, turn off the music, play some ads on the screens, and finally, throw some balls into the crowd.  They definitely know human nature, as those balls kept everyone busy for another 15 minutes.  The geniuses next to us caught one and used it as a chair for a while.  I'll admit it: I was a bit jealous.  

At this point in time, we had been outside for four hours getting drenched and pruny.  The lightning had returned in full force, and we were beginning to think it might be more than a little stupid to stand under it.  (Leaving the stadium, there was a fallen tree, and there wasn't enough wind to justify it just tipping over.)  Leah wanted to stay, so Christy suffered with her.  Covered in mud, Elizabeth and I hopped in a cab and headed back to the hotel.  We just couldn't see the point in waiting any longer for a man that we were not madly in love with.  

The best part of the trip had arrived.  For the last two months, I have only taken cold showers.  Most of the time I don't mind them as it can get pretty warm here.  That night, though, I savored that hot water and really allowed it to thaw me out.  It was beautiful.  

The rest of the trip was nice but nothing really noteworthy.  A buffet breakfast, hanging out by the pool (I should've brought my goggles!), shopping at a Costco-type place, heading home during a spectacular sunset, and getting eaten alive by mosquitoes while dropping Elizabeth off.  All in all, a good trip.    

P.S.  Leah was not impressed with the concert, couldn't see much (the screens were small), and thought the last one was much better.