BOGOTÁ, Colombia—My time in Bogotá has been a blur of long cab rides, huge libraries, quaint art galleries, cautious political commentary and, of course, soccer.

It’s just after five o’clock on a Monday, and I’m in a room with 36 strangers watching a soccer match between the Colombian National team and their Peruvian counterparts.

It’s the quarterfinals of Colombia-hosted Copa America ’01—the Western Hemisphere’s version of the World Cup—and though the game is exciting, I’m much more entertained by my surroundings. I’m not in some rowdy sports bar downing shots of the local liquor or at one of the theaters watching the game on a movie screen.

Instead, I’m in the multimedia center of Bogotá’s largest library.

A Colombian striker speeds past the slower Peruvian defender, and only the goalie stands between him and the goal. Uniformed library guards, bankers and—as in my case—students who have spent their afternoon researching eagerly rise in expectation of a can’t-miss goal...and groan loudly as the striker blows the shot.

In the back of the darkened room, someone hisses. A librarian, probably, trying to remind us that despite all appearances, we are in a library.

In the second half, the Colombian offense breaks loose and scores three quick goals. The library’s multimedia center explodes in shouts of joy and excitement that continues despite the strongest hisses and hushes from the librarians.

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