Closing On Columbia

When I first talked of going to Columbia, the comments I got, especially from those who had been there, were all about how beautiful it is and be careful, mindful, play-it-safe and don't-go-out-alone-at-night. Some of this I've heard before but never to this extent. It didn't stop me from finding out for myself. Yes, Bogota, big city, and what can one expect, after all. But the rest of Columbia is full of people who are friendly and helpful. often without being asked. The following photos wrap up my journey.


A sausage vendor in Villa de Leyva

Breakfast!

In Villa de Leyva.

A Guambiano woman in Casique.



 

Buying and selling cell phone minutes is big business in Columbia.



On the road to San Augustin.

 

A backyard horno, or oven, in San Augustin.

 

Zipaquira

An incredible wall sculpture in Bogota.

 

More wall art in Bogota.

 

 

 

Bogota's Green Men

In my Lonely Planet guidebook I found a little blue block suggesting that travelers to Bogota's Candalerio district should take the time to look up as they carefully step around dog messes and missing pothole covers. Up is where the green men are, or green people, as not all of them are men. So I did just that and found several.

 

The artist to be credited with this project is Jorge Olave whose work is sort of a social commentary. Some of the green people are made of resin, others of recycled materials. I found them in surprising places and for blocks there would be none at all and then I would come to an intersection, look down an insignificant little street and there they were, two or three of them. 

 

So I was curious and went to the internet. The first thing I found was an article stating that Jorge Olave was found dead in his studio of an apparent homicide in October of 2013. What a loss.

 



Zipaquira, Columbia

On my last full day in Columbia I joined a group from the hostel for a trip to Zipaquira, about an hour from Bogota, where there is a salt mine turned cathedral. They call it the Salt Cathedral to attract tourists during the week but on Sunday it actually attracts a large number of worshipers even though it is not technically a church.

Inside the old mine are a series of crosses carved from the halite rock with blue lighting. I got bored pretty quickly with them as they didn't seem to vary. The claim is that the biggest underground cross is there but I didn't think it to be so impressive. There were pews in one section and statues of marble brought in from the outside. I saw only one carving that impressed me. A small drift was made up to look like an old emerald mine and there a small theater where one can watch the video explaining it all. For those with shopping on their minds, a fairly large section is dedicated to display cases full of emerald jewelry, icons and tourist stuff. Outside there are a statues, a playground and more shops.

I was actually more impressed with the café where we ate lunch in the town itself. This was not an inside dining area, it was  open but under a roof. The décor was an interesting assortment of antiques  on display as well as old posters and ads. We ate the usual almuerza, the lunch special, starting with a bowl of soup, then a plate of meat, rice, a small potato, yucca and plantain with a frutas naturales drink. Good food but way too much for me.

We ended our journey by driving to both of Zipaquira's squares to get out and take photos. Town  squares are starting to all look very similar, a sign that I've been there too long. One girl asked our guide why so many of the buildings have blue and reddish trim. The answer was that some politicos have colors, much like schools in the US.

Desierto de la Tatacoa

To get from San Augustin to Villavieja I had to take a bus to Neiva and transfer. I was immediately assaulted by countless people trying to sell me a ticket to Bogota on theirparticular busline. One fellow followed me persistently, chattering away, even after I informed him I didn't speak Spanish. I finally told him loudly and firmly, "No hable!" which made all the other drivers laugh but turned him off once and for all. I finally found a little rattletrap minivan to Villavieja with a slightly sleazy driver and a group of teenage boys, one of who tried to offer me his manly services as if I wasn't old enough to be his grandmother. No, I was not impressed with Neiva.

Villavieja is a dusty little desert town of one story buildings, many with bands of color painted on the lower portion and sometimes around doors and windows. I think the little church on the square is the tallest building around. In that square is the strangest statue I've ever seen grace a square anywhere. Yet, this was a very friendly little town and it comes to life in the evening. A woman selling the best empanadas for only 500 pesos from a little stand in her doorway broke into a huge smile when she saw coming for more.



This statue could be a cross between a bear and a dinosaur.

I found a little eating establishment, four stools big with a couple small tables out front and a sign that advertised 'jugos naturales' in several flavors. In my very basic Spanish, we discussed which ones might be good mixed with milk and I opted for one with a fruit I didn't know. She proceeded to scrape the slimy insides out of a fruit with yellow, withered-looking skin, added it to the milk, then took a long form of ice out of the freezer, picked up a rounded rock and bashed pieces off it to go in the blender. I laughed aloud which led to an attempted discussion about the cleanliness of the rock, then a more successful one about our lives and children.

The people where I rented a room called a friend to be my driver and guide to Desierto de la Tatacoa, my objective. His name is Gustavo and he drove an old Renault that had a passenger door needing to be opened from the outside which he did in a very gentlemanly manner every time I wanted to get out for a photo. It also failed to restart a time or two until he would get out under the hood and pound the battery terminal with a rock. After that, it didn't want to go into first gear several times...and a good time was had by all.

Desierto d la Tatacoa is an unusual landscape for Columbia, a very green country. I understand that the mountains surrounding it take all the rain, leaving it a dry but sculpted landscape, as if a little piece of Utah was dropped into it settled in. The formations come in red and white, sandy, and graced with several different kinds of cactus. There are an a couple campgrounds, an observatory and a pool fed by a one of the few springs where people go for a dip. I think it is to have some sort of good luck cleansing quality but can't be positive due to the language barrier. A stairway of rubber auto tires leads down to it. Cattle also roam this desert, skinny ones with big, floppy ears, a hump and a long wattle under their necks.

It is hot, hot, hot in Villaviejo. I developed a serious headache and hopped a bus to cooler climates early the next morning.

San Augustin, Columbia

San Augustin is my favorite place in Columbia so far. It isn't that this town has a unique look about it because it doesn't. In town the buildings are one, maybe two story stories of the usual variety. There are panaderias, resturantes, stores that sell basic needs, always a market, a few artisan shops...it could be one of many small towns in Columbia. The difference is the people.

 

My hostel was on a dirt road outside of town, a road that is unpaved starting maybe a hundred feet from the square but we were not that close in. People walk and everyone greets with a "buenas dias" and a smile. Some rode into town in horse drawn carts, mostly single axle with auto tires. Outside the market, the horses stood patiently like so many diagonally parked cars while their masters sold their produce or shopped. Of course some people have cars but not as many in this end of town, and many a motorcycle whizzed by me.

 

 

 

 One woman told my friend Niko that up until two years ago San Augustin was full of guerilla fighters but it is safe now. It feels quite safe to me. A woman on the square was making a panela of fresh squeezed sugar cane rendered with gelatin from fresh hooves. She would scoop this mix from a pan beneath a post rigged on her cart. Then she would work it rather forcefully all around and it would get thick and stretchy almost like pulling taffy. When it got too thick she scooped more. She was in constant motion all day and was rewarded with many customers. It was much too sweet for my taste. Another woman I walked a distance with, told me how she had come from Germany with her children, found a nice house to rent, married and settled in. I could be tempted to settle there myself.

 

  

San Augustin has a big archaeological park with many burial sites and stone statues. They date starting around 800 AD. It was apparently the in place to be buried for a fairly long period of time. I couldn't find mention of a particular people, they are simply called indigenous people. There were a few mounds excavated in the park, a spring area with stones carved and laid out in some significant manner and a beautiful bamboo bridge. There was an overlook site that I thought was not worth the long, heart-thumping climb. Another area , Bosque de las Estatuas, is a trail with about thirty statues said to be recovered from grave robbers. Bogota decided they needed a large number for a permanent exposition. The townspeople were outraged and blocked off the road to the park. Now, along the trail, there are several flat replicas made of something like foam-core with signs under them explaining that they are in a Bogota exhibit. I noticed the noun 'to be' is the temporary state and hope that is the sign of a small victory.

 



A cutout of a missing statue.

 

I have to confess that I am totally enamored with some of the plant life I found in the area. Bamboo grows to be easily five inches in diameter and is used in all kinds of construction projects.. The shoots can be taller than I am and still be called shoots while the adult plants tower overhead. Air plants root themselves in trees and something similar but smaller attaches to power lines in town. And the flowers, oh! the flowers....

A bamboo bridge at the park.

 

 

 

Popayan, Columbia

I can't say that I was particularly enamored with Popayan. It is known as 'the white city' because it is just that, white. I am in love with color. This is a Colonial city with very plain architecture, red tiled roofing and paved streets. Some of the balconies are nice but, to me, just another city. It was much more fun under the streetlights with a good camera. I wandered, peeked into churches and drew some pictures on the Parque Calore. In the afternoon, I hiked up the hill to an overlook with a hero-on-a-horse statue and ran into Niko taking photos. Perched on the statue was a beautiful bright yellow bird. I saw a huge black bird in a tree near the university and an unusual black-white-brown one on the path to the statue. Otherwise, there are plenty of pigeons perched on the church in the square. I am not seeing the bird-life that I expected in this country. There was a demonstration in the square, a very short march with two banners carried by a small crowd of enthusiastic college-aged participants and, against the wall, a long row of police with riot shields. It happened, few paid attention, and it ended and was immediately forgotten. The most exciting part of my Popayan visit was leaving it. Our short bus careened along high ridge roads, through beautiful spring-green grasslands where I saw a couple long-drop waterfalls. Next was a high rain forest, not an incredibly tall canopy full of chattering monkeys, but a lower, dense growth of plants that you don't see every day. There were clusters of deep red trumpet flowers, large, bright yellow daisy-shaped flowered trees, huge dagger-type grasses, elephant ears, ferns, fern, and more ferns, huge ones. There are no people living here. When I looked out the other side of the bus it was all dense clouds. It’s a good thing because that sheer drop can be very scary at high speed on a rutted dirt road. Miles later, we dropped down into cropland of coffee and sugarcane. In a village alongside a river we were transferred to the back of a pickup truck filled with people, huge sacks of oranges and with a bunch of bananas tied on top. Onward to San Augustin.

Mountain bus stop on a drizzly day.

So close to the edge!

Another good traveling companion.