Last night, I’m doing laundry, getting ready for bed, when Jorge tells me to get my “party clothes” on because we’re going to a surprise birthday party.

OK.

We get there, gather with the other party attendees, climb silently up the stairs to his apartment and sing him Happy Birthday, en español, claro. We eat cake and drink soda and proceed, somehow, to have arm-wrestling contests. I duel with Francisco and emerge victorious and lead my own chant of “USA! USA!” No one else joins in, strangely.

We sing a few songs, have a prayer, and return home having participated in the most spontaneous party I’ve been a part of in a long time.

¡Viva Bogotá!

— Chacho