So, I've never told this story publicly. First – you've gotta understand, being a latin pop musician is often like being a member of the rat pack, but in spanish. Although I'd love to fancy myself as Dean Martin, let's face it – I'm prob Sammy. You could be going about your business innocently, but crazy shit happens. This is true for musicians stateside too, part of the biz – but as a Hindu I'm usually the only one without a gun. Not even sure I'd know what to do with one!
On one of these crazy days, I was in Colombia and was tagging along with a friend who was creating a map of old school Escobar style mansions. Upon approaching one, he decided to ring the bell to ask if we could see the inside. An old lady answered the door and OK'd our entrance. It is important to note that my friend is american-white, although he'd lived in latin america for a while he was still very noticeably not hispanic. Within minutes of us looking around the amazing house it became quite clear that this was an active cartel house (embarrassingly not my first either, just like Sammy, I end up stumbling into these places more often than I admit) .
Soon, a local guy showed up with two tourists (a retired Texan and a young Irish party-goer). Both had obviously been drinking. Did I mention it was only 2 in the afternoon? Well, the two sat down and demanded drugs and hookers -as if they were ordering sleaze from a restaurant menu. The local guy saw my friend and me, and I overheard him tell the lady of the house in spanish that we “belonged to him” and that We were paying the bill for his two gringo goons and that he should get a commission. Again, did I mention it was only 2 in the afternoon?
This is when I turned to my friend and let him know that we needed to get out of there QUICKLY. However, upon trying to leave, we noticed that the front door was chained and locked shut with a giant padlock! We were trapped i