I have never seen so much rain in my life. President Santos declared a “state of calamity” for nearly the entire country for how much it’s been raining here. It never stops. Even just when you think maybe, maaaybe it will stay clear today, you feel that first drop. Shoot me.
Yesterday I ran into Raz, my Israeli neighbor who I hadn’t seen since he got kicked out of the house across the street because his dog “bothered” other tenants. He told me he’s leaving Bogotá. Me too, I said. And he’s like, yeah this place will pull on you like that. And I said, yeah, it really does.
The thing is, the Candelaria is a mixture of beautiful and disgusting. Every day I open my door and I’m surrounded by these gorgeous old buildings, so colorful, with the mountains towering over them, clouds here and there (or sometimes everywhere). But well, then I keep walking, and the whole place is scattered with dog crap and homeless people and addicts with glue still dripping from their noses who rip open every trash bag they can find looking for food. Sometimes you can track them by the trail of trash they leave. And my neighbors, they are wonderful, warm, friendly people who have always taken care of me. But they are almost all coke addicts. The foreign ones, mostly, not many of the Colombians. The Colombia=cocaine stereotype can be really offensive because it’s usually the foreigners who are using the drugs. But regardless, the drugs change everything; they change relationships, and it’s hard to watch.
Two of my favorite neighbors, who have also left now, were this old Iranian couple, Mo and Rita, who said they saw the same problems in Iran with opium and they do here with cocaine. They would make me and Andres coffee every day and we’d listen to their stories. They had traveled literally all over the world and had fascinating stories, like one about getting stuck in a tempest-sized storm for three days in like, slave ship conditions on this boat in the Philippines. They also said Iran has one of the most generous cultures in the world, and I should visit.
Mo also once lived in Kansas City, and loved it. He was always telling me what a great time he had there, and how pretty Missouri was. And he’s right, of course! Never hurts to have an extremely seasoned world traveler give your homeland so much praise.
I have definitely been homesick here. Especially on Thanksgiving last week. Of course we got together, all the gringas and some unknowing Colombians, and we cooked A LOT and ate A LOT and rounded off the night with Christmas music. It was lovely, but it was not the same. I’m so looking forward to being home for Christmas.
Until then, though, I’m soaking up as much of Colombia as I still can. I’ve been working hard at my internship and dancing hard on weekends. Slowly discovering I’m not such a terrible salsa dancer. And still unable to shake the light-haired, blue-eyed, bright-neon-light-that-says-hit-on-me-i’m-a-foreigner curse. But at least it’s entertaining.
Finally, today I’m leaving on a two-week adventure with my co-workers to visit a bunch of communities that we work with. First, a week on the upper Caribbean coast, near Santa Marta. The region has a long history of violence + the rape of its natural resources and native populations, often involving the banana industry and now coal and gold mining. But it’s really beautiful. After that, it’s off to Uraba, southwest of Santa Marta but northwest of Medellin, to visit some more rural communities in a more river/jungle landscape. Also a long history of violence and exploitation. Also extremely beautiful. Because that’s what this country is – extreme beauty mixed with extreme wretchedness. You just always have to look on the bright side.
For example, with all this rain, I’ve seen a ton of rainbows. =)
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Friday, November 19, 2010
I might as well be on the Amazing Race
Two weekends back now, budget travel landed me on three overnight buses, two muddy pick-up trucks, and one stiff bed in a Colombian whore-tel. But with the money I saved, I got to fly. Worth it.
Andres and I began the adventure with an 18-hour night ride to Santa Marta, a town on the coast, where we hopped buses to Riohacha, the center of transport in La Guajira, Colombia’s northernmost state and “the edge of the world” according to my Lonely Planet guide. After Riohacha, buses weren’t an option. Transportation method of choice instead involved piling into the back of a truck with maybe ten other people, various canisters of water and gasoline, and several other unknown packages. At least we avoided the truck with the goats.
Five hours of bumpy, muddy road later, we arrived in Cabo de la Vela, a remote costal town under the jurisdiction of the indigenous Wayuu people. Pleasantly void of the typical commercialized tacky boardwalk and everything that accompanies a beach vacation spot as we know it. The normal form of accommodation in Cabo is a three-walled hut-and-hammock get-up fifty feet from the waves, but since it rained monsoon-style the ENTIRE time we were there, we splurged for the fourth wall + bed deluxe combo.
Despite the unfathomably unfortunate weather, we did get to talk a little hike through some spectacular scenery. La Guajira is sort of a phenomena – a desert on the Caribbean coast. So picture bright blue seas, giant seashells, peaceful waves, adjacent to crumbly brown earth and sparse, spiky vegetation. Even flooded with so much rain, it was beautiful and unique.
Leaving Cabo wasn’t easy. Not because we didn’t want to, because we almost literally couldn’t. The storm nearly locked us into town, turning the road – there is only ONE road – into a virtually impassible two-foot deep river. But we found one brave driver willing and able to take on the mission. The man was a pro. Miles upon miles of muck, and we only got stuck once.
As if being cramped in the back of a truck for six hours wasn’t enough, we kept going: 1 hour taxi, 3 hour bus, half hour taxi, 15 hour bus, 15 min metro, non-stop all the way to the first cheap hotel we could find in Medellin. We were aiming for a whole new scene, and that is exactly what we got. Only after we accepted a room key and paid that night’s stay did we explore the neighborhood to find that we had comfortably settled amidst a plethora of whores and other sketchballs. We were warned not to wander about after dark. But what else is new.
Outside of that neighborhood, and actually within it if you overlook certain flaws, Medellin was pretty cool. Instead of mountains on one side like Bogotá, Medellin is surrounded by them, making for an amazing view from all angles. We made sure to check out all things paisa (the term for people from Medellin and the region around it): the Pueblito Paisa (tourist trap, but cute), the Plazoleta Botero (really cool sculptures by one of Colombia’s most famous artists), the Parque de la Luz, and another famous work, Monumento a la Raza by a guy named Betancourt. And of course, those were only a fraction of the options.
The best, best, best, part of the whole extended weekend, however, was our introduction to the world of parasailing. Bought a ticket, hiked up on a hill where two tandem pilots were waiting for us. They strapped us each into a chute, strapped themselves to us, and instructed us to run off the side of the cliff. It was the best thrill I’ve ever had – the closest thing to flying I think you could possibly feel. We were alongside the birds, swooping over waterfalls and bright green pastures. Amazing. I’ve found a new hobby.
We could have stayed in Medellin a few more days, but time and money drove us back to rainy Bogotá. It is still raining to this day. Now, Andres has left, and I’m back to work, taking videos, translating, keeping up correspondences, and always meeting someone new with a wonderful and worthy cause. I only have one month left now to finish my projects and see what more I can, and I plan to make the most of it.
Andres and I began the adventure with an 18-hour night ride to Santa Marta, a town on the coast, where we hopped buses to Riohacha, the center of transport in La Guajira, Colombia’s northernmost state and “the edge of the world” according to my Lonely Planet guide. After Riohacha, buses weren’t an option. Transportation method of choice instead involved piling into the back of a truck with maybe ten other people, various canisters of water and gasoline, and several other unknown packages. At least we avoided the truck with the goats.
Five hours of bumpy, muddy road later, we arrived in Cabo de la Vela, a remote costal town under the jurisdiction of the indigenous Wayuu people. Pleasantly void of the typical commercialized tacky boardwalk and everything that accompanies a beach vacation spot as we know it. The normal form of accommodation in Cabo is a three-walled hut-and-hammock get-up fifty feet from the waves, but since it rained monsoon-style the ENTIRE time we were there, we splurged for the fourth wall + bed deluxe combo.
Despite the unfathomably unfortunate weather, we did get to talk a little hike through some spectacular scenery. La Guajira is sort of a phenomena – a desert on the Caribbean coast. So picture bright blue seas, giant seashells, peaceful waves, adjacent to crumbly brown earth and sparse, spiky vegetation. Even flooded with so much rain, it was beautiful and unique.
Leaving Cabo wasn’t easy. Not because we didn’t want to, because we almost literally couldn’t. The storm nearly locked us into town, turning the road – there is only ONE road – into a virtually impassible two-foot deep river. But we found one brave driver willing and able to take on the mission. The man was a pro. Miles upon miles of muck, and we only got stuck once.
As if being cramped in the back of a truck for six hours wasn’t enough, we kept going: 1 hour taxi, 3 hour bus, half hour taxi, 15 hour bus, 15 min metro, non-stop all the way to the first cheap hotel we could find in Medellin. We were aiming for a whole new scene, and that is exactly what we got. Only after we accepted a room key and paid that night’s stay did we explore the neighborhood to find that we had comfortably settled amidst a plethora of whores and other sketchballs. We were warned not to wander about after dark. But what else is new.
Outside of that neighborhood, and actually within it if you overlook certain flaws, Medellin was pretty cool. Instead of mountains on one side like Bogotá, Medellin is surrounded by them, making for an amazing view from all angles. We made sure to check out all things paisa (the term for people from Medellin and the region around it): the Pueblito Paisa (tourist trap, but cute), the Plazoleta Botero (really cool sculptures by one of Colombia’s most famous artists), the Parque de la Luz, and another famous work, Monumento a la Raza by a guy named Betancourt. And of course, those were only a fraction of the options.
The best, best, best, part of the whole extended weekend, however, was our introduction to the world of parasailing. Bought a ticket, hiked up on a hill where two tandem pilots were waiting for us. They strapped us each into a chute, strapped themselves to us, and instructed us to run off the side of the cliff. It was the best thrill I’ve ever had – the closest thing to flying I think you could possibly feel. We were alongside the birds, swooping over waterfalls and bright green pastures. Amazing. I’ve found a new hobby.
We could have stayed in Medellin a few more days, but time and money drove us back to rainy Bogotá. It is still raining to this day. Now, Andres has left, and I’m back to work, taking videos, translating, keeping up correspondences, and always meeting someone new with a wonderful and worthy cause. I only have one month left now to finish my projects and see what more I can, and I plan to make the most of it.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
The Dead, the Living, and the Living Dead
This week was the Day of the Dead, in Mexico. Colombians, however, are more into Halloween. Either way, my experiences of the past couple weeks have allowed me to remember some long-dead Colombian inhabitants, and to experience the country’s ever-fantastic life and spirit.
Took a hint from the Bogotanos two weeks ago and got out of the city, to Villa de Leyva, a small colonial town/popular weekend getaway. Besides its cobblestone streets, wonderfully-preserved 16th century town square, and rows of simple white, clay tile-roofed shops, the town is known, of all things, for fossils. In prehistoric times, the area was covered by ocean, and to this day it’s wrought with fossils, homes are adorned with them, and you can of course see the best ones in museums. The guesthouse we stayed in – I went with Andres – even had one randomly embedded among the stones in the courtyard.
We passed the weekend wandering the streets, embarrassing ourselves trying to fit into a truly talented Saturday night salsa crowd, and falling into tourist traps. We saw what’s know as THE fossil – huge skeleton of some monstrous sea-dwelling dinosaur, a rare find, so we were told. Also checked out a ritual site of the area’s ancient inhabitants the Muisca people. Spanish missionaries named the place “El Infiernito” or “Little Hell,” in an effort to make people afraid of pagan worship. Consists of several stone pillars lined up, which created a sort of calendar for the people to keep track of the growing seasons. It’s advertise as “Colombia’s Stonehenge,” and coming in with that level of expectation, we were disappointed. But take away the comparison and it’s pretty neat. Even more amusing to me were the other ancient remnants surrounding the Infiernito – dozens of 5, 6, 7 feet high, crudely-sculpted, upright-toward-the-sky penises. How could you not giggle at least a little? The Muisca people followed a cult of fertility, hence the statues. For worship, and rituals. But come on. They ought to rent out Colombia’s Stonehenge for bachelorette parties.
Besides a bunch of really old rocks, we got a look at the natural beauty around Villa de Leyva. Saw the Pozos Azules (“Blue Wells”) – amazingly bright blue pools, super out of place in their dry, rocky setting. A thousand times more wonderous though was El Sanctuario de Flora y Fauna de Iguaque, a nature preserve/true fantasy land. Literally a site of mythical beauty. The standard hike – NOT an easy one by any means – takes you up a mountain on a steep, slippery, muddy path, first through thick, wet jungle, until you emerge into the drier, rockier, elevated landscape. But a landscape unlike any I’d ever seen, covered in shallow, pale greenery, with the oddest plantlife, the strangest flowers. And the mountains all around you, farms in the distance below but so far away it seemed they weren’t even connected to this place. If that feeling weren’t enough, the end of the trail brings you to the Lagunas de Iguaque – a series of lakes where Muisca legend says human life originated. It was easy to see why they thought there were gods here. The flowery, plant-covered cliffs dropping to the water’s edge, thick white mist billowing over the tops of them and falling down on us, the peaceful quiet. It really felt magical. One hundred percent worth the hike.
Got back to reality, and then back to Bogotá just in time to throw something together for Halloween. Although head-to-toe costumes were hard to find, street corner wig/animal ear vendors had popped up all over the city, and we went with a Nightmare Before Christmas getup – super fun. Nearly got run over by a parade of zombies Friday night – they terrorized sausages stands and even stormed the transmilenio, stopping it in its tracks. Brilliant. Saturday night was the big party, though, the full costume event. Like in the States, bars and clubs are a nightmare, super crowded, hard to get into, and mad expensive. We went with a party bus option – flat rate, cheap booze, and automatic transport and entry into 4 different places. Madness. Departing from the Candelaria, our bus was mostly a hostel crowd, internationals going nuts on rum/vodka/tequila shots, and the bars of course were what you would expect: lights, loud music, scores of drunks dancing and screaming. We couldn’t have had a better time.
And life couldn’t be more wonderful. =)
Took a hint from the Bogotanos two weeks ago and got out of the city, to Villa de Leyva, a small colonial town/popular weekend getaway. Besides its cobblestone streets, wonderfully-preserved 16th century town square, and rows of simple white, clay tile-roofed shops, the town is known, of all things, for fossils. In prehistoric times, the area was covered by ocean, and to this day it’s wrought with fossils, homes are adorned with them, and you can of course see the best ones in museums. The guesthouse we stayed in – I went with Andres – even had one randomly embedded among the stones in the courtyard.
We passed the weekend wandering the streets, embarrassing ourselves trying to fit into a truly talented Saturday night salsa crowd, and falling into tourist traps. We saw what’s know as THE fossil – huge skeleton of some monstrous sea-dwelling dinosaur, a rare find, so we were told. Also checked out a ritual site of the area’s ancient inhabitants the Muisca people. Spanish missionaries named the place “El Infiernito” or “Little Hell,” in an effort to make people afraid of pagan worship. Consists of several stone pillars lined up, which created a sort of calendar for the people to keep track of the growing seasons. It’s advertise as “Colombia’s Stonehenge,” and coming in with that level of expectation, we were disappointed. But take away the comparison and it’s pretty neat. Even more amusing to me were the other ancient remnants surrounding the Infiernito – dozens of 5, 6, 7 feet high, crudely-sculpted, upright-toward-the-sky penises. How could you not giggle at least a little? The Muisca people followed a cult of fertility, hence the statues. For worship, and rituals. But come on. They ought to rent out Colombia’s Stonehenge for bachelorette parties.
Besides a bunch of really old rocks, we got a look at the natural beauty around Villa de Leyva. Saw the Pozos Azules (“Blue Wells”) – amazingly bright blue pools, super out of place in their dry, rocky setting. A thousand times more wonderous though was El Sanctuario de Flora y Fauna de Iguaque, a nature preserve/true fantasy land. Literally a site of mythical beauty. The standard hike – NOT an easy one by any means – takes you up a mountain on a steep, slippery, muddy path, first through thick, wet jungle, until you emerge into the drier, rockier, elevated landscape. But a landscape unlike any I’d ever seen, covered in shallow, pale greenery, with the oddest plantlife, the strangest flowers. And the mountains all around you, farms in the distance below but so far away it seemed they weren’t even connected to this place. If that feeling weren’t enough, the end of the trail brings you to the Lagunas de Iguaque – a series of lakes where Muisca legend says human life originated. It was easy to see why they thought there were gods here. The flowery, plant-covered cliffs dropping to the water’s edge, thick white mist billowing over the tops of them and falling down on us, the peaceful quiet. It really felt magical. One hundred percent worth the hike.
Got back to reality, and then back to Bogotá just in time to throw something together for Halloween. Although head-to-toe costumes were hard to find, street corner wig/animal ear vendors had popped up all over the city, and we went with a Nightmare Before Christmas getup – super fun. Nearly got run over by a parade of zombies Friday night – they terrorized sausages stands and even stormed the transmilenio, stopping it in its tracks. Brilliant. Saturday night was the big party, though, the full costume event. Like in the States, bars and clubs are a nightmare, super crowded, hard to get into, and mad expensive. We went with a party bus option – flat rate, cheap booze, and automatic transport and entry into 4 different places. Madness. Departing from the Candelaria, our bus was mostly a hostel crowd, internationals going nuts on rum/vodka/tequila shots, and the bars of course were what you would expect: lights, loud music, scores of drunks dancing and screaming. We couldn’t have had a better time.
And life couldn’t be more wonderful. =)
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