Just another day in the life...

Quiet day in Medellin. I´m glad to have come here, to see that its past as a raging city full of open drug dealing and as Pablo Escobar´s former ground zero for operations has given way to more important business for the paisanos, such as haggling with local fruit vendors and buying illegally copied CDs and DVDs to pass the time (I picked up The Cure´s Disintegration, Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon and a collection of Bjork vids for less than $8. Deal!). But this kind sentiment I´ve taken to Medellin was actually quite the opposite a few days ago, when no less than 3 hours did I want to GTFO (my new acronym for Get the Fuck Out). I had checked into my hotel after a grueling 16-hour bus ride in a vehicle more accurately designed to ship chickens, where I unfortunately got to know my neighbor on a very intimate basis due to the alloted amount of leg and armroom -- the kind I would even be embarassed for my mother to witness despite the innocent circumstances. I walked out onto the busy street and was followed, one after another, by perverts with an Asian fetish. I couldn´t take it anymore.
My fragile state had been as a result of an incident from the day before that happened immediately after I wrote my last post complaining about the sexual harassment that accompanies women, especially gringas, and more specifically Asian women, here. As I was walking back to my hotel, a young guy on my left passed me, grabbed my cheek and pulled his face up close to mine, his foul lips puckered in a kiss. It happened so quick that before I could even pull away he had let go. I swirled around and stared at him, I was so shocked. What could I have done? I considered chasing him, but he looked like the type of guy who would punch me out. As all of this was happening, another guy came up and made kissing noises right in my ear. All of this in a day as bright as your bare ass when it comes into the world from your mother´s hole. To deal with the verbal insinuations was one thing, but now this harassment was turning physical... I was about to burst into tears.
So after my first night here in Medellin, I opted to wear sunglasses the rest of the time, as a sort of experiment. I´ve had several people remark I could pass as Colombian (or at least Latina) with dark shades on. On they went. And so disappeared the filthy comments. I was at peace once again.
Medellin on the whole is interesting, for about 2 days. There´s a large sculpture garden featuring Botero´s bronze works in front of the Museo de Antiquoia, which houses some impressive works by Colombian artists I´ve never heard of. The zoo, which I visited today, is a sad affair as you could expect, with people ignoring warnings not to feed the animals and kids mustering all their might to find as many different ways as possible to annoy the poor prisoners. I left the place elated I´d seen so many animals I never knew existed, but depressed about the creatures. I will say, though, the monkeys seemed fine.
I´m heading back to Bogota tonight for a weeklong respite, where I hope to build my alcohol tolerance (Chris, you´re right, what kind of writer am I if I can´t drink like one?) and remember what it´s like to feel cold. A Colombian friend I made in Cartagena, Gabriel, is coming toward the end of the week -- turns out he´s a drum n bass DJ and is working to combine cumbia and other Colombian traditional rhythms into the music the same way DJ Marky and Patife did with bossa nova and samba and d&b -- and I´m sure I´ll gain some further insight into the city´s nightlife and residents.
Anyone know where I can find some brass knuckles in Bogota?