For 2012, Shaun and I will be trying a different kind of writing for some posts… known as Erica and Shaun type like they would talk posts. So, for our first one, here we go. Feedback would be appreciated on if you would like to see this more in the future.
Add “Riding a Chiva during the holidays in Medellin, Colombia” to the “Crazy Ass Shit I Did on My Travels” list.
Good lord. Where do I even start? Lets start at the end and then do a flashback to the beginning so there is confusion and suspense! This isn’t Fight Club, man.
I guess lets start the night before when I went out with Cristina my Couchsurfing host, Troy of FOGG Odyssey, and Dani of Dani B Going Nomad. What was just supposed to be a chill night of watching Dixie and drinking beers turned into a debaucherous night of dancing at our third club I don’t even remember going to. I blame Troy. And Jager. But mostly Troy.
I woke up with one of the worst hangovers I had experienced to date (I cut you off, don’t blame me)- but we had promised Laura (CS host’s sister) that we were going to the Chiva and she had already bought a ticket for us. I had to go – regardless of the fact that standing up made me want to projectile vomit everywhere.
I was bed-ridden until about 8pm, when I was finally able to stomach something and immediately felt like a million bucks (that had been soaked in booze for 24 hours like Amy Winehouse. Too soon? Are you calling me Amy?) and was ready to go. Seriously though – it is times like these when I love that I can abuse the hell out of my body and somehow it keeps ticking- bouncing back like you are 21 again, amirite?
We walked up to the Chiva in all it’s neon Jesus lightshow glory.
Think of a Half tank, meets a half Hummer, meets a half school bus, all badass. I think we could have smashed through brick walls and still have been okay. I should have shouted G.I. Joeisms as we boarded.
Breaker: Thousands of miles across and ten stories thick, locating McCullen’s base will be like finding a needle in a coalmine.
Breaker: Oh, right, haystack in a coalmine.
It had gaping openings on one side with 3 rows of seats in the front, 3 in the back, and two stripper poles in the middle of the dance floor – complete with lasers, strobe lights, and Colombia’s best booty thumping music.
Then fill it with 40-50 Paisos (people from this area), several boxes of Medellin Rum and Aguardiente (SIN AZUCAR! Blue box 4 life!) and you have quite the party. Honestly, I was thinking someone was going to fall out the open air side at some point with how people were climbing like monkeys on the outside of the bus while hauling ass down the highways.
So the night generally went like this.
Little cups were passed around with booze. No, you really couldn’t say no and it was expected that you participate in the festivities.
When the bus came screeching to a halt, everyone flies forward laughing. Bruised shins and smiles were everywhere.
When you come up to cars and/or other Chivas, you scream at the top of your lungs and show them how much more fun you are having than they are.
When you pull up to a park, everyone climbs out of the bus (there is some climbing involved) and wander around, booze in hand, gazing at the pretty lights and street food.
Or, you all pile into the street and stop traffic pretending you are traffic controllers with whistles and music equipment.
When reggaeton pumps on the speakers, girls start humping the stripper poles or any stationary nearby object. Well, I guess that explains why you stood very still.
Late into the night, some jackass buys foam in a can and then starts spraying it everywhere, making the floor slippery and the screeching halts more interesting. This also resulted in said jackass slipping out of the moving bus when the foam landed in Shaun’s popcorn. An unfortunate accident where no one saw anything to the contrary.
Pictures, pictures, everywhere. You spend half the night blinking and seeing the little spot in the corner of your eye and the other half angry that you can’t see the girls grinding until the spots go away. *sigh*
And most of all, it was a freaking BLAST. Crazy Colombians, loud music, drinking, passion, and friendship – my favorite things about this country. I can say without a doubt I had NEVER experienced Christmas this way – no holds and bat shit crazy. I loved it.
[Thank you Cristina for letting me steal all your pics even though I really didn’t ask. *cough*]