Murphy's Law

You know, the one that says if something can go wrong it will?  Yep.  That's the one that pretty much controls my life, and today is just another example of it.  All I wanted to do was to get home to Chicago after finishing my year teaching abroad (more reflections on said year to come), that's not too much to ask, is it?  Apparently, it is, because the Travel Gods certainly did not make are not making things easy today. 

I knew starting today, that the 1 hour and 55 minute window I gave myself to catch a connecting flight from Miami to Tampa was cutting it close, but several people assured me this shouldn't be a problem (I won't name names, but I have a Facebook status as support).  It shouldn't have been a problem, except that our flight from Cali to Miami took an extra 25 minutes.  Ut oh.  This left me racing as fast I could from my seat in 27A through the plane, up stairs and escalators, running passed and bumping into people while shouting "Que pena!" to the English speaking couple that sat next to me on the plane.  I got to Passport Control, cut a bunch of people missionary group (I know what you're thinking..."karma") to catch up to David who was ahead in line.  Then when it came time to choose the passport line, it turns out I picked the line with the slowest officer ever, who I later saw type one fingered to enter in the information for the girl ahead of me who also happened to have filled out her paperwork out wrong.  Awesome.  At that point, people who had been behind me and had not run and cut lines had in fact gotten in and out of passport control at least 4 people ahead of me.  Damn.  Off to the races again to get luggage, go through customs, recheck bag, go through security again and book it to my gate with about 40 minutes left.  Of course 5 different airport workers told me 5 different places to recheck my bag before I could continue running to security.  I made it through all of that with about 10-15 minutes before plane was scheduled to take off and continued to run until I found the flight information board to find my gate, I was goign to make it after all.  Then I find that my flight had been delayed 45 minutes.  At this point the dripping sweat and ridiculously red face felt really unnecessary, even more so when the flight was delayed another 20 minutes, so a grabbed a wrap from Au Bon Pain, sent a few "I'm here!" texts, and watched Obama's speech on immigration.

Flight to Tampa boarded and the stewardess gleefully stated several times that our short 35 minute flight to Tampa should be pleasant and apologized for the delays.  Except that when we were descending, there was "VIP action" in Tampa, and we didn't have clearance to land.  Turns out Obama was in Tampa, costing me another 15-20 minutes in the air, and getting my landing time way too close to my 4:30 take off from Tampa to Chicago.  Luckily, I was in 10B this time, not so lucky that I was stuck between the bronchitis brothers who hacked their way through our flight while I tried to read Harry Potter y la piedra filosofal.  I got off the plane pretty quick to find that my gate to Chicago was right next to the one I cam out of.  Perfect.  Delayed to 4:45.  Kind of perfect since I was cutting it close anyway, and now I can board with ease.  Except, no one else is boarding yet, and the plane doesn't appear to be here...hmmmm.  That would see to make it difficult to take off in 25 minutes.  As I went to check that I hadn't missed anything and that my baggage would make it to the plane, I overheard the woman at the counter tell someone else that there would be further delays and she would make an announcement soon.  The estimated departure time sneakily changed to 6:00pm and about 10 minutes later we were informed our plane was in Ft. Meyers due to storms approaching Tampa.  Great.  Guess I have time for a coffee and parfait from Starbucks.

And theeeeennnnn they got my order wrong at Starbucks.  Shocking.  Six months since I have had Starbucks, I'm the only person in the place, and they manage to get it wrong.  Sheesh.  It wasn't worth complaining so I attempting to slurp on what they made me and embraced the free WiFi at Tampa International.  And now as I have written this, the delay has extended another 45 minutes, a total of 2.25 hours late, as of now.  Who knows when I will actually make it home, but one thing's for sure I know it will be damn worth the wait.

Quien lo Vive, es Quien lo Goza: Carnaval de Barranquilla

I couldn't have said it better myself Barranquilla.  Translated as "Who lives it, is who enjoys it," this serves as the slogan mantra for Carnaval de Barranquilla and seems to fit just about perfectly.  Every year Barranquilla hosts one of the world's oldest and largest celebrations to kick off the Lenten season, starting four days before Ash Wednesday.  We got lucky this year since because 1. we had a three day weekend the same time as carnaval and 2. we are friends with Kristin & Kelsi.  While I had absolutely no idea that Barranquilla had a very large and very popular carnival every year, Kelsi & Kristin have been trying to go for the last two years that they have been in Colombia.  Learning from past experience, they got on top of things in September with booking flights and hotel and were gracious enough to invite everyone else to join in the fun; we ended up having a group of 10 in total. 

 

Colorful and fun shoes I wanted to buy.
Unfortunately 8 is not a common size.

After what seemed to be an endless day of teaching, we flew out from Cali at 7pm on Thursday and spent our first night walking around close to our hotel before calling it a night.  Friday called for some very necessary poolside time and reading before we made our way out in search of some costume wear for the parade on Saturday.  There was plenty to choose from with so many traditional parade costumes, like the Marimonda: a long nosed, floppy earred, bright vest and suspender wearing character.  This is typically the most popular since it is unique to Barranquilla.  There was street after street of costumes, it was a bit overwhelming.  In the end, most of us decided on crazy neon shirts cut and retied so be extra obnoxious.  Needless to say, this was a great addition to my hot pink shorts I was sure to pack.

Traditional carnaval costumes turned into purses!



Jeep decked out as a Marimonda

Friday night after dinner we found ourselves a cumbia (pronounced (kūm'bē-ə not kum-ba-ya as my brain seems to always revert to.  Embarrassing.) concert in a very large open field; yeah, I judged it too when I first realized I was standing in a big open field, but it was actually a lot of fun.  We eventually made it to the very front near the stage, which I thought would be a nightmare, but as it turns out, Colombians are pretty tranquilo; there was no pushing or fighting for space, everyone was simply there to live it, enjoy it and have a good time.  The cumbia music was practically non-stop the entire night; the shrill sound of the flute takes some getting used to, but the music is really quite beautiful and one can't help but move to the rhythmic beats.  Here is a clip of some of the music, not the best quality, but its all I have to offer.

When Saturday morning rolled around, it was time to prep for the big parade, the Batalla de las Flores (Battle of the Flowers).  After breakfast, we gathered our things and eventually the girls left without the boys as they had things to attend to.  Later we learned they had made shirts with their picture on them and couldn't pick them up until 11.  After about a 15-20 minute walk we made it to the line to go through security into the parade area.  After waiting and walking in the sun, I got a little sass when some women tried to cut us in line somethings along the lines of "Hay una fila.  El fin es por alla" (dramatic point).  As you can imagine that got little reaction and then I decided to give up on being frustrated, which is good considering how much more difficult getting to our mini-palco seats would be. 

Although the carnaval is a massive event that practically shuts the entire city down, it was difficult to find anyone who could actually tell us where our seats were located, since obviously the cross streets on the tickets were inaccurate.  Of course.  After wandering down countless crowded streets I selflessly offered to the group "I have no problem if we start telling people I can't walk and we need to get to our seats ASAP".  This is because I was sporting a lovely hinged knee brace due to a very special fall during my volcano hike which may have left me with a torn MCL.  I digress.  So we started telling police officers a parade people I couldn't walk and they had to take us to our seats NOW.  Didn't really work.  Eventually we did find a very large, very helpful military man, who delegated to a significantly smaller badged security officer who escorted us to our seats.  This resulted in a gringa parade for all those already in their seats as we walked the parade route to minipalcos 46 & 47.  Por fin.  And then about 10 minutes later the boys joined, who ALSO had to have an escort because no one could tell them how to get to the seats either.  Go figure. 

Once the parade started, nothing else mattered; it was full of entertaining dances and music, extravagant costumes with absolutely gorgeous colors and patterns.  Not to mention that all of this went on for five hours.   Marathon parade.  I could continue my attempts at describing the event, but I think pictures do a better job in this case.

The sanitation men of Barranquilla, one of the best performances!

What a costume!

Creepy/Crazy/Cool

Two of the more traditional Carnaval costumes

Lots of people dressed as animals and/or warriors

Plenty of extravagant floats as well.

After we lost some friends to the parade (not casualties, they jumped in) we made our way back to the hotel and then found a sushi/pizza restaurant.  I'm sorry, I meant heaven.  My too favorite foods in one convenient location?  I think I love you Barranquilla.  After cleaning up, some of use headed to a a street party, but I didn't last long.  The day had taken its toll and I was definitely ready for some sleep.  Sunday we had an afternoon flight and therefore would miss the parades and activities for the day, so we spent the morning doing more street browsing and shopping.  I left Barranquilla with a new Wayuu handcrafted mochila, three art pieces for our apartment, a beaded necklace, a woven compact mirror turned earring holder, some sunglasses and of course my fancy carnaval t-shirt and bow. 

Typical artisan stand

Of course a great weekend can never just be great, we ended up with a 2 hour delayed flight in Barranquilla that led to us missing our connecting flight in Bogota by about 2 minutes, which meant we didn't get home until 1 am Sunday night, and had to teach the next morning.  Woof.  Regardless, it was a great weekend and there is definitely talk of going back next year.

Slow and Steady Wins the Race OR To Hell and Back: Hiking Volcán Puracé

This past weekend Amanda, Mandi, Jessica and Stetson set off to hike Volcán Puracé just outside of Popáyan, about a 3-4 hour drive south of Cali.  Some co-workers had completed the hike last year with Bicivan Tours and although we all felt slightly unprepared, we were ready to take on the challenge.  We thought the most difficult part would be the fact that Puracé is about 4,800 meters about sea level, or about 2.5 miles.  We met the vans that we'd be taking outside a store near my apartment in the south at about 4:30 Saturday morning and after meeting up with the vans from the north, set out toward Popáyan. 

 

After a few coffee and bathroom stops later we made it to the condor lookout cliffs, the first part of excursion in Purace National Natural Park. A guide put out meat to attract the condors and we waited quite some time for them to decide to swoop down and eat. In the 1990s they found the condor counts to be low so they took condors to the US to reproduce and then the San Diego Zoo reintroduced them in the park.  Condors mate are monogamous and only lay one egg every two years, which may add to their low numbers.  When they finally swooped in, I was shocked by their massive size and wingspan (compare the condor to the no so small vulture next to it). Watching their flight patterns was impressive as well; at most time their wings did not flap, rather they simply let the wind carry them and would make small adjustments in their wings or feet to change direction as the circled the rock. The pictures certainly do not do it justice.

The next stop on day one was to a waterfall and then we were off to the Termales de San Juan.  This river is said to be one of the most beautiful in Colombia, second only to Caño Cristales, or the river of seven colors. It was by far one of the most beautiful and unique places I have seen yet, and even though it stunk of sulfur and rotten eggs, we took our time exploring everything before us. 

 

When we finally got to our home for the night, we chatted with a new friend and talked about our countries, travels and weather, most of us saying how we could never live in cold weather here despite our Midwestern upbringings; lack of central heating really changes the game and its not one we're willing to play.  A little walking and exploration, some hot soup and one presentation later, we were heading back to our cabin to pack for the next morning and attempt to get some shut eye. 

Our 4am wake up call came all too soon and we quickly found out how unprepared we might be.  We thought we would be taking the vans to our step-off point, instead it turns out our hike started in the pitch black morning at 5am shortly after breakfast.  Due to our lack of headlamps, we had to keep up with other more advanced hikers and blindly climb fences and start our ascent through the fields, passed cows and over small streams and bridges.  We were all just waiting for day light to break.  After the blind ascent, the sun finally rose an we could see our way through the slightly muddy trenches to even muddier land and then to the land of mossy-false-ground where every step was questionable and success relied heavily on one's jumping skills.  Needless to say I walked away from this area with a severe case of wet foot, despite the plastic bags covering my socks.  We stopped off at a shelter to take a break, sip some coffee and refuel for the remaining 2.5-3 hours that would be the most difficult and grueling portion of the hike.

While the first half of the hike was filled with greenery, the second offered nothing but ash and rocks.  The wind was strong and scary, the temperatures were quite low and visibility was less than 50 yards I would say: not quite what we expected based on the photos of other trips.  Later we were told that these were some of the worst conditions they had seen, usually common in August when they don't do trips.  Lucky us.  Eventually 3 of us (Stetson, Mandi and Jessica) made it to the top and later admitted and shared with hikers who were behind us "No vale la pena"-its not worth it.  Amanda and I trekked on despite wanting to turn around several time because of the fierce winds and ultimately made it within about 300-400 meters of the summit: close enough for us as we saw our friends coming back down.  Then we started the adventure back which was at times harder than the ascent due to slipping rocks and severe fatigue from 5 hours of high altitude climbing. 

About 8 or 9 hours after we set out, we had finally made it back to low ground and our cabin.  A little worse for the wear (some worse than others) I think we all agreed it was one of, if not the, most difficult thing we had ever done.  Given the chance, I would do it again, if I could get some guarantee of good weather, which is completely impossible to do at the top of a volcano, so I guess I wouldn't. 

Leaving Colombia is Hard

Photo credit

No, I don't mean it was emotionally difficult; physically getting out of the country is difficult, or at least the process of getting through security is. Upon the advice of our wise friend Wojteich, we left for our 8:15am flight at 4:30 to get to the airport by 5:00am. It started off normal, an attendant helped us check into our flight (he even spoke English) and we proceeded to the line where we could check our bags. Another woman, who also spoke English then wanted to play 20 questions in regards to our luggage: Are you travelling alone? Who owns the luggage? Who packed the luggage? When was it packed? (Oops, lied on this one. I said they were packed the night before, but David packed his on Sunday! I'm now on the watch list.) Has it left our sight since it was packed? Any electronics? Have they been out of our possession for repair recently? Don't accept anything from anyone.  Keep your belongings with you.  Don't let them leave your sight.  Oh and have a nice flight. On to the ticket counter. After my luggage was weighed I was sent around the corner to some man behind a window (but David wasn't...) and the conversation there went something like this:

Man behind window: Cuando llegaste? (I thought he was asking when I was returning. Note to self: study Spanish verbs over break)

Me: Tres de Enero

Man behind window: Enero? Solo Diciembre...

Me: Oooooh sí, sí, Augusto

Man behind window: (shows me my immigration stamp that says July 31) Julio?

Me: ....Sí, 31 de Julio pero....que pena, comiencé trabajar en augusto

Man behind window: Tienes tu cedula de extranjeria?
Me: Si, aca
Man behind window: Es el Español, siempre tan difícil para usted?
Me: No. Pero es muy temprano y no duerme mucho, que pena. Gracias.

And so I returned to the original counter with a new stamp in my passport, the same David got from the woman AT the counter. Then we were asked if we'd sit in the exit row and agreed before we actually realized what she was asking us. Then we went down to the security checkpoint. Great news about security in Colombia, you don't have to take off your shoes. But they WILL feel you up and search your carry on bags thoroughly; I'd rather lose the shoes. I'm not kidding (I rarely do), female officer hands under my shirts and brushing the waistline of my yoga pants. Good morning to you too ma'am. And then the kind police officer went through both my carry on bags, asking questions, to which I had to respond each and every time with "como?" so he could repeat and I could get a second chance to understand. He opened my computer case and smelled my laptop, which was weird. Guess that's a common place to hide your cocaine? Just FYI: they know. And then he proceeded to go through my clothes bag and rifle through my belongings from extra coat and last minute packed purse down to my underwear (that I always hide at the bottom). After all, my grandparents did teach me to always pack the necessities in my carry on. Embarrassing, and slightly violating.

THEN we had to go to the emigration counter to get our passports looked at again and our fingerprints scanned, and our passports stamped again.  Sheesh.

Finally we were at our gate and after a two hour wait, ready to board.  But not before they randomly searched bags again (not ours thankfully) and asked yet again if I had accepted anything from anyone.  Apparently Blondie looks like a good target for drug traffickers.

Salento

After leaving San Vicente, it took a little work for David and I to get to Salento, mostly because we chose to stay in the termales until the afternoon.  Leaving SanVicente, we had 45-60 minute jeep ride, including a flat tire change, a 30 minute bus ride from Santa Rosa to Pereira, another hour bus ride to Armenia were we could catch our 40-45 minute ride to Salento.  Whew.  It was a lot.  Regardless, we got there around 7pm, had a slice of pizza and walked around the square bit after checking into our hostel. We* went on a hunt to play pool, only to discover strange hole less tables with only three balls (I later discovered that I think this is Carom?) and then back to our hostel for a little reading and slumber.  In the morning we had breakfast at the hostel, where Mary Elena the sweet woman who owns the hostel convince David to have some coffee, because we were after all in the coffee region. 

Pretty garden area

Breakfast nook

Mary Elena was great.  She spent many years in the states so she knew English but only used it when clarification was needed, which basically meant we were getting Spanish lessons all weekend.  She told us about getting a jeep to Valle de Cocora and even drew a little map for us.  We made our way to the jeeps in the square where there were 6 other travelers waiting to go to the valley as well, so also seriously doubted, and even started to argue with, the driver about getting 8 people in the jeep.  Clearly they had never seen these jeeps before, sometime with 15 people in them.  Amateurs.  We were on our way, and shared a nice conversation with a woman from Vancouver who had been travelling in South America for 6 months and said that Colombia by far was the most beautiful country she had been in.  Ever.  I have to agree with her, although my travels are far less extensive than hers.  When we got to Valle de Cocora we found a guide and got on some horses to start our trek through the valley.  Often people hike up to the peek, but it being the rainy season it can get very muddy and several friends suggested the horses because it offers you a slightly better view and experience.  I loved it.  David, not so much.  Being his first time on horse, it was a little scary to be climbing steep rocks and crossing rivers and creeks (which I said before we went, but of course nobody* listens.  Our guide Norbe took pictures for us along the way, and I swear the man was a horse whisperer, clicking and whistling and making other randoms noises at the horses to keep them in line.

Oh, David found a friend.

Cowboy!

At the end of our ascent we stopped at a natural reserve where we paid $3.000 for a drink, like hot chocolate and $500 for the bathroom.  There were SO many hummingbirds fluttering around it was unreal and so beautiful.

On our way back down, I took my camera back from Norbe to grab some shot of my own.  That's right, I was riding the horse and taking pictures.  I'm a little more confident now than my first horse experience in Colombia.  Speaking of which, Amanda later went back and rode the same horse I was on that day and got bucked off; it wasn't just me, Serpentina was crazy.  Anyway, Valle de Cocora is home to these amazingly tall trees called wax palms that pop up around the mountainside and are quite the contrast to some of the farm land below.  Beautiful.

Real cowboys

When we got from our three hour ride, we stopped in the restaurant and I ate more trout before another jeep left to head back to Salento.  It was a little rainy when we got back, but we eventually made it out to explore the Calle Real, the main street in Salento with countless shops where we did the majority of our Christmas shopping. 

After our shopping we grabbed dinner at a place Mary Elena suggested, Alegria for some Italian type food and then found ourselves at a tienda turned bar/cafe for some live music.  David also introduced some Colombians to a Ruso Blanco (White Russian) as opposed to a Ruso Negro without cream or milk; they were very confused.  We planned on heading out by 10am on Sunday so we got to bed so we could get up early to check out the view from Alto de la Cruz, a 250 stair climb marked with the stations of the cross.  From there we were offered more breathtaking views of the mountainside.

And after checking out with Mary Elena we made our way to the square to catch a bus, argued (or attempted to since it was in Spanish) about the quickest way back to Cali, decided to do it his way and got on a bus to Armenia and finally back to our home sweet home in Cali.  This is a place I would love to go again and try my hand at the hike and of course do a little more shopping whenever I get the chance.

*David

Thanksgiving in San Vicente

As I mentioned before, one of the perks of teaching at a bilingual school is that we get off for Colombian holidays, as well as a select few American holidays like Thanksgiving.  This gave us a four day weekend at the end of November.  Now having already had two Thanksgiving celebrations, most teachers head out of town for a long weekend.  A big group of our friends were planning a trip to an island in the Caribbean, San Andres, and while warm(er) weather and beaches and all you can eat and drink was appealing, my over-my-head in debt self decided a smaller (and cheaper) excursion was a bit more financially responsible.  I also think I was looking for something a little quieter, and there were a couple places in the coffee region, not too far from Cali that we were interested in visiting.  With not many plans made, David and I set off Thursday morning with two other primary & pre-primary teachers, Lauren and Carlos.  We all shared a cab to the the bus terminal where we got a bus to Pereira for $22.000 (about $11 USD) where we could then get a bus to Santa Rosa.  We were planning on going to the natural hot springs (termales) in Santa Rosa where some friends had spent some time during Semana de Receso.  From Santa Rosa we found a jeep that was advertising his services to the termales.  When we got in Carlos asked our driver his opinion on the two different locations with termales and after going back and forth a couple times, we decided to change our original plans and actually head to San Vicente to spent the day and night, the same place our 8th graders go for their field trip.

The ride was a little scary to start, with the repairs of recent mudslides and other construction along the way, but that was over quickly and then we spent the 45 minutes ride taking in the beautiful views of the Zona Cafetera from the back of the jeep.

After a somewhat chilly and rainy (but gorgeous nonetheless) ride up, we wasted little time deciding which room we were going to stay in, put some food in our bellys and made our way to the thermal pools. After the initial feeling that I may have just willing given myself third degree burns by stepping into scorching water, it felt wonderful; it was the prefect combination of cool air and cozy warm water. As is now normal here, there were little Colombian children asking us to speak English and responding with the few phrases they know like "How are you?" and "I love you". Weird. We explored some of the other pools (there were five in total), some of which were only for people who were staying, as opposed to those who come just for the day. This allowed us the relaxing solitude I think we were all hoping for on our mini vacation.

 



We hung out in the thermal pools and the natural saunas until after the sun went down, when we finally decided it was time to go to dinner.  After some delicious trout, we had them light the chimney in our room, in hopes that it would warm our now shivering selves.  It didn't.  And so we all fell asleep curled under our blankets and in sweatshirts pretty early.  But this allowed us to get up early and enjoy the wonderful sun and made for great opportunity to take some morning pictures.

View from the back patio on our cabana

Our Cabana: Siete Cuervos

After breakfast we decided to go canopying (zip lining) with our guides David and Felipe.  Turns out, I was the only one in our group of four that had ever gone before.  There were only two towers on this canopy.  One of our guides set off in front of us to the first stop so he could be there waiting for us and went flying without holding on hanging upside down.  The rest of us followed, in the normal seated position and made it safely across.  On the second leg of it, they informed us we could go sailing across "como un murcielago" (like a bat) too.  David and Carlos promptly declined the offer and Lauren went zipping across upside down.  I tried the position out before I went across and although my brain was perfectly willing to let me fly across with no fear, we body just wouldn't trust it enough to kick my legs up and drop my upper body to the position I needed, so I went across the normal way again too. 

The afternoon left more time for warming up in the termales and some appointments with the spa.  David and I decide to try out the Baño Peeling first, a hot sand (arena) peeling near one of the natural pools and sauna.

Then we had time for another massage, deciding on the honey and oatmeal (miel y avena) treatment.  Sounds weird, felt a little weird but also very relaxing and after these two, my skin felt great.  We rinsed off in a thermal pool, showered, packed up, got one last meal and were headed back to Santa Rosa with our jeep driver, with a little setback on the way. 

Churrasco

Bandeja Paisa

Fixing our flat tire

When we got the bus back to Pereira Carlos stayed there the spend time with his family, Lauren was headed back to Cali to teach her Body Combat class and David and I were off to our next stop of the trip in Salento.