Saturday 11th January 2014

I've been a bit unwell and stuck in bed catching up on subtitled US TV so despite being thrilled at taking one step further to fulfilling my ambition of being ill on every continent, I was determined to get out and get some sightseeing done.

I pootled off in a different direction today, to the posh part of town -La Candelaria.  The thunder rumbled as I took my jumper off, I had the pavement mostly to myself as locals hid in shops with each sporadic rain shower.  To be fair if the food I've eaten is anything to go by they might be made of sugar and salt so fair enough.  My tour of Bogota churches continued with some closed ones...  

And then opposite the Presidential palace, a rather unremarkable building holds inside it the most extravagant church so far.  Unsurprisingly considering the location, even the Christmas decorations (still up in all the churches... I need to investigate the significance of that) were a departure from the flashing green and blue lights and red and pink tinsel I've seen elsewhere.  No shop mannequins in the nativity scene here, not a white Joseph with drawn on goatee in sight.  Here, the nativity scene moves...

Down the road, past the soggy guards protecting the political royalty of the city, through the smaller roads of independent traders and tiny cafes I walked past an open door with a smiling woman standing on duty.  The language is different but something is oh so familiar; I've hit the church tourist's jackpot.  Here was the Saturday afternoon service of some sort of mission church, pentecostal I would guess and as I ducked into the (empty) back rows I took in the universal uber Christian body language (sorry for the covert photo, turns out I don't feel comfortable intruding on people worshipping).  I left after 15 minutes of congratulating the Lord with applause.

Off back into the shopping centre, through a whole road dedicated to army and police accessories - I saw an 18 month old kitted out in camouflage... another road for electrical goods, a mall with racks and racks of cheap clothing (sadly I've not purchased any clothes, I'm not sure Colombian fashion is transferable to Devon and I don't think I can pull off too much mesh and studs. 80's patterned leggings, maybe...)  Under the main road to the main bus and train station and I'm reminded that to discover how far apart the rich and poor are, just cross the road.

As the sun won through the clouds I checked out a high catholic church - no cameras allowed, for their sung mass and finally popped back into the Cathedral.  

I love experiencing the worship habits of the community, it gives so much more of an insight into the culture that underpins life here.  Other than the Cathedral which is a bit vast, empty and lifeless, I've been delighted at how authentically spiritual and unlike museums or tourist attractions the churches I've been in feel despite their city centre location.  I may not be into the graphic depictions of the crucifixion and yeah I'm a feminist but not in a hailing Mary way (though power to her, natch).  But there's something familiar in all the different flavours; high catholic (sung liturgy, incense, no cameras), charismatic (keyboard and worship band, warehouse) or mid range (funny priests - I think, guitar worship in an upbeat hispanic style) I've felt most at home in the pews here.  And some of it makes more sense in Spanish.