By Bipin Doshi

The first time it hit me that I was on my way to Latin America was when I saw two hombres, during my stopover at Frankfurt airport, who suspiciously looked like stereotypical Latin Americans from a Hollywood film. They were around medium high, stocky, healthy natural looking reddish tan, slightly round-faced with small cheek bones and they wore jackets and caps and jeans exactly the way they do in the movies. One of them even had a Stetson hat!!!

Hey, it’s not my fault that most of my knowledge of the rest-of-the-world comes from American films considering that English is the only foreign language that I can speak. And then slowly but surely more Spanish-speaking families started trickling in at the check-in counter for the flight to Simon Bolivar International Airport in Caracas, Venezuela. The name sounds exotic, doesn’t it?

But the fact that I was really traveling half way around the world, hit me really hard in the gut when I landed at Caracas. Before I tell you why, let me describe the airport to you. The approach to Simon Bolivar Airport looks as romantic as a journey to those lands should really be. The approach area to the airport is from the sea and so is the take-off direction. You might say the same thing for the Mumbai airport but trust me it’s not the same. While coming into Caracas, the aircraft dips for a turn into the airport. That’s when you almost see one wing almost touching the waves.  The aircraft may actually be a lot higher up but you desperately want the pilot to come to his senses and make a hard pull up.  And when the plane does align with the horizon, on the other side of the wing you see beautiful green mountains. The airport has been literally carved into the mountains. And when you take-off it again feels as though El Capitan wants to give us a swim in the sea. It is breathtaking.

I had to take a connecting flight to the El Dorado International Airport of  Bogotá from Caracas and no one speaks English there. That was when I felt that the umbilical cord to India had finally been disconnected. Fortunately the few phrases that I knew in Spanish helped me. So did a Australian-Colombian coming from England. The couple also helped me at the  Bogotá airport with my immigration and also a phone call to ensure that I make it to my welcome party.

Being at the Colombian welcome party at Merlot Cafe calmed me–and my stomach. It is a quaint little cafe at the corner of the street where I lived for the first few days in  Bogotá. With warm staff, colorful murals and friendly furnishings it reminded me of ‘Central Perk’ from Friends. But here’s the strange thing. They played a lot of popular English rock music. If it wasn’t for the menu and the language that the staff spoke, the cafe could have been like in any English-speaking country. 

But the one thing I noticed the most about Bogotá on the first night were the couples. A lot of them. Old couples, young couples, middle-aged couples, couples in shops, couples in buses, couples in my school, parent with kid… wherever I turned they were there. Holding hands, hugging, kissing on the streets, smiling, being protective, fighting, crying…all hearts bared open. I thought that my movie education prepared me for it. But I guess seeing so much public affection in real life is very different from seeing it on reel life. It’s not that I had a negative reaction. I guess it’s just that I have never been exposed to so much love around me. And believe me as days went by in Colombia I saw a lot of love floating around. 

I am getting used to it.

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