Our trip to Bogota was just as adventurous as the previous one to Medellin, meeting lots of people on the road. We got a ride with a big name business man, a capitalist whose big fear was that Venezuela will get its way and invade Colombia to create La Gran Colombia. Everyday he reads the newspaper praying that his nightmare is far from being a reality. Dani and Nani picked us up next with their pet Morpho butterfly revealing large turquoise wings. Dani had given the butterfly to Nani as a birthday present and they were now releasing it back into the wild (very frail and on its last legs by this point). Quite an eccentric couple in certain ways, with a lot of passion for each other, Dani with a devil sense of humour and Nani soft spoken and gentle. They were both concerned about the environment, designing t-shirts with environmental slogans and setting up a foundation around their business. We learnt a lot about butterflies while winding our way down to Rio Claro (a natural reserve that’s renowned for holding a crystal clear river), being a passion of Nani’s. The Morpho butterfly lives for approximately 2 to 3 weeks and is one of the largest butterflies around. Colombia within its very rich ecosystem (it has the most plant and animal species per unit than any other country), holds a very large variety of butterflies (3100, the world’s third highest number of species of butterflies). There are also many migrating butterflies that come through Colombia every year and stop by at Rio Claro. There are many rare species including the hard-to-see transparent butterflies.
Along our drive down to Rio Claro, we were delayed by an hour after coming across an accident between a truck and a bus. Fresh blood marked the windscreen of the bus, the only sign of injury around. Arriving at Rio Claro, Dani and Nani invited us to lunch, along with their friends they were to meet there. Our last slice of the journey to Bogota, we went with a bloke named Omar, who thought we were two Argentinians who he had picked up a few weeks back. We slowly crawled up a windy mountain road that many were following in the stormy dusk, stuck behind slower trucks that we couldn’t overtake but happy to be inside, out of the torrential rain. My main reason for wanting to go to Bogota was to visit a few social organizations that I had been in contact with through my old job with SEARCH. I visited three in total and if you want to find out more, read the above entry. Ironically, where we stayed in Bogota was right next to a military school for young cadets who chanted in the mornings and all dressed uniformly, in white t-shirts and jeans. There were 100’s of them, all very young and all boys.
We took advantage of being in the Capital to visit the famous gold museum which told the history of gold in Colombia, how it was worked by different ancient, indigenous groups and the cultural significance that gold held for each tribe. It’s by far one of my favourite museums I have visited, concisely explained with great examples of gold work and a very good description of the spiritual and ritual aspect of gold within indigenous cultures. With Carlos, our Bogota CS’s younger brother and his girlfriend (who he’d met over facebook!) we also visited the tallest building in Bogota and saw the city span out extensively on all sides, with modern buildings sticking out noticeably.
Leaving Bogota showed to be a mission. The day we left was when all buses in the city were on strike requesting that the bus fares be raised. The transmilenium (the tram) was chock-a-block full but we managed to squeeze in with our backpacks, taking up double space. To get off was a nightmare. Agustin got off first and I thought that we had lost each other, me not being able to get off. Luckily I shouted out to be let through and people stopped trying to get on for a second and helped me out before the doors closed.
Through a combination of taxis (public and private) we made it to the highway toll with the aim of heading to Cali, another 8 hour drive. From there, we went with a fellow called Fernando who was relatively young (for a trucky) and who was quiet in comparison to previous drivers who we’d ridden with. He did have a stereo though and a good compilation of music that we happily drummed and hummed to for most of the journey. We snaked our way up ‘La linea’, a notorious road that zigzags up and over mountains for many kilometres and which is definitely high stress for any driver, especially one who drives a large truck, with 180 degree sharp turns that don’t leave any room for error.
With these huge rolling mountains, it’s no surprise that bicycles latch onto trucks for free rides up the steep hills. I had high expectations for Cali, as I was told that it’s the capital of salsa and also where Boogaloo originates from (a dance that is a mixture of jive, funk and swing which I had learnt a little when living in Palenque). We stayed at a CS’s place who lived in a large apartment complex with a pool and a big rooftop terrace – luxury! As she had a lot of work on (being an eco-tour guide), she left us the apartment for a few days while she went travelling. A couch surfer had offered to teach us some Cali salsa and so we had two classes with him which were fun and gave us an idea of a few of the steps involved. He was very proud of the ability of Cali salsa dancers and to be truthful, they have repeatedly won many worldwide championships and have a reason to be proud! They dance much faster than other salsa dancers, with rapid foot work and lots of shines. He was passionate about salsa and talked about dancing in the Cali clubs as if it was a competition, everyone checking each others moves, new steps and style. We went to a salsa club and watched couples glide around the dance floor in a very rhythmic and graceful manner, obviously all experienced salsa dancers making us look awkward and uncoordinated. But it was amusing to watch everyone leave the dance floor in a flash, as soon as the song was finished and sit down for literally 3 seconds until the next song came on, at which point the boys proceeded to ask girls to dance and back to the dance floor they went!
People in Cali were extremely friendly with us to the point where we found it hard to leave after asking for directions. Having asked a man eating an Arepa on the side of the road for the closest market, another man stopped and waited his turn to join into the conversation and give his two cents worth. The other man proceeded to ask us where we had been in Colombia, where we were from, what we liked about the country, etc, etc, etc! People were almost fighting over each other to help us and give us advice on anything! They would argue with each other over the easiest route to a certain street or which bus to catch to go to the city centre. At times we had an entire bus disagreeing with each other over the way to a particular address, everyone getting involved and passionately arguing with each other.
On one of the days that we were in Cali, we went to a nearby village called San Cipriano, a black community, who had improvised quite ingeniously with the train tracks that cut through the middle of their village. They had built wooden carts with wheels to fit the tracks, attached to a motorbike. With this creation they rode on the tracks and carried passengers and goods back and forth. It’s an entertaining ride, wind blowing in your face as you breeze through forest on either side.
The only issue is when you’re faced with an opposing cart and one has to obviously give way to the other. Many arguments occurred sometimes lasting a good few minutes until finally someone ceded and went through the laborious task of moving the cart and motorbike off the tracks. The village is situated close by to a breathtaking tropical rain forest which has copious amounts of crystal clear pools connected to a beautifully clear river. The rocks at the bottom of the river glimmered and sparkled from the suns shine, which made me take numerous photos to try and capture the beauty that I could see. Unfortunately it wasn’t possible (or not with my skills!). On another day we went to the theatre and saw a great play called ojos bonitos cuadros feos about a teacher and an artist who commits suicide after feeling as if she’s unable to make it. It was captivating and engaging unlike the Alice in Wonderland movie that I nearly fell asleep to (partly due to the glass of wine that I’d had before!), the story being quite bland and typical Hollywood. We also went to see some electronic tango along with an Argentinean photography exhibition by some amateur photographers which introduced me a little to Buenos Aires and its people.
Many people that we have spoken to have a very negative impression of Colombia which we haven’t found to be at all true in our experiences. In the month that we were there, we were very warmly welcomed, helped with extreme enthusiasm (sometimes without us even looking for any assistance), chatted to and told stories as well as being looked out for. Of course there are dangers, just like in any country, and we may have had someone looking over us, making sure we were safe. But Colombia is not the horrendously dangerous place that many people make it sound like. The FARC (the guerrillas who have been around for 50 years) have greatly reduced their struggle (or the government has reduced it for them). Colombia is the biggest producer of Cocaine and is known for its notorious drug cartels but unless you go searching for it, you shouldn’t find yourself face-to-face with drug traffickers.
Our last stop in Colombia was Pasto. The ride there was amusing, meeting Mario who was off to see his family, as he does every Sunday, a total of 56 people who all get together at the families finca. Our travels bought back memories to Mario of his youth, when he had travelled to Ecuador and Peru the same way as we are. He pointed to all the sugarcane fields on either side of us and described how harmful it was to the environment, burning the wildlife within the sugarcane and emitting a lot of greenhouse gases and air pollution into the atmosphere (they burn the sugarcane so as to make it easier to harvest and decrease the volume of material to be processed), polluting waterways and deforesting on a massive scale. We tried Guarapo (sugarcane juice), with lemon juice, which was absolutely amazing!
Our next interesting encounter was with two guys who held a little business together, one who was a serious cyclist (you have to be to cycle up the amazingly hilly roads in Colombia!) and who had ridden to where we were standing. They gave us a lift halfway to Pasto and were intrigued by our travels but more interestingly, Jose related stories of having being kidnapped three times by the guerrilla, Jose’s experiences of black women, Leonardo’s battle with his weight and were invited to a Sancocho (a soup with potato, banana, pumpkin, casaba and fish) as well as a special type of creamy yoghurt that comes from a small village near Mojarra.
They dropped us off in La Mojarra, bordering the road to Pasto. Daylight was diminishing and we had little hope to get out of the village before the next day but with luck on our side, a truck stopped and told us to jump in. He (Orlando) wanted company as he had driven all night and all day, mostly without pause (apart from a couple of hours), and wanted help to stay awake. We managed to squeeze in the front with our backpacks jammed in, one underneath our legs and one over us, squashed as I had never been before and overheating from the snugness of it all. We chatted to him profusely, learning about his family of seven and his daughter who had (in his eyes) run away from home at the age of 22, him feeling a little hopeless with the situation. He asked us many questions including if we thought that young people (especially from our countries) were more liberal and don’t commit to each other as before. I think this had a little to do with his daughter’s situation. Agus was in the middle and acted as intermediary, not being able to hear very much from the noise of the engine. He appeared quite conscious about environmental issues asking what we thought about the global warming crisis. He stated that the temperatures in the mountains had increased dramatically in the last few years and that this was partly caused by the disastrous deforestation which the government had undertaken with the excuse of searching for the guerrilla. He also talked about politics (being a hot issue with the upcoming elections), telling us that the government buys votes and paramilitaries threaten people with death if they don’t vote for the government. He relayed that there have been quite a few left wing senate candidates who have been assassinated. He also said (as the organizations I visited had also stated), that paramilitaries have displaced many in the name of multinationals. He recounted that he had been robbed three times last year, once by guerrillas who had ridden up to the passenger side of the truck with a motorbike and a gun and had taken the entire truck along with ten others. He told us about people setting up pretend accidents at nighttime, stopping drivers and then mugging them. A few minutes after he’d told us this, we were stopped by an accident, but this time it was genuine, where a small truck and a car had collided.
The question of the night was when he asked Agus what he was thinking in a moment of silence. Agus was speechless; shocked that once again he had to share his thoughts, but this time with a stranger! At 11pm he admitted that he couldn’t continue any further for fear of falling asleep at the wheel (his attempts at finding a coffee in the land of coffee had been futile). He felt guilty for promising a ride to Pasto that night and not making it but we reassured him that we much preferred for him to rest than continue and risk an accident (especially after he had told us about the worst accident he’d had where an oncoming minibus driver had fallen asleep and had crashed, his vain attempt to miss the bus had failed – all passengers of the minibus died). He offered us a motel room for the night and to take us to Pasto the next morning, which we gladly accepted, both of us also quite exhausted from the journey-full day. Pasto, called the surprise town, as you can’t see it coming from afar until you stumble across it in the mountains, is surrounded by agricultural land and is located at the base of the Galeras volcano (which is currently active and where tourists have died when it erupted a few years back). We stayed with a couch surfer who’s in his 60’s (quite rare in Couch Surfer world) and who is planning a big trip around South America in 2012. He lives in a beautiful part of Pasto, 5 minutes out of town by bus and surrounded by nature. His apartment has large windows that let a lot of light in but most importantly, give a picturesque view of nature, making you want to stay there all day and miss out on visiting Pasto. But we didn’t. We visited Laguna de la Cocha, a beautiful lake that has a small island with dense forest situated on it. The views are breathtaking and the tranquility on the water as you sit on the gondola style powerboats, is re-energizing. Our boat driver described how there had been an abundance of trouts back in his father’s day but since locals discovered tourists taste for the fish, they over fished the lake and there are now few left. We also went on a trip to Volcan Azufral, an extinct volcano that has a gorgeous turquoise coloured lake in its crater. As we were leaving Colombia in a day, we didn’t want to exchange more money therefore we had to try and make it with what we had. We arose early and hiked an hour across the city so as to head to the volcano. During the trip there, we met a couple that were heading to Tuquerres, close by to the volcano. They were like kids with new pets, wanting to take us everywhere and show us all the highlights of their part of the country, taking photos with us at every stop and asking for our facebook details. Finally, we made it to Tuquerres and one minibus ride later, we were in the countryside heading up the path to the volcano. We passed a small but charming village, many people greeting us very politely as we passed by. Up and up we rose amongst the extensive valleys, lit up gloriously by the suns rays. With a quick pace we made it up the volcano in two hours, a little strenuous, as we got higher and higher and the altitude and the cold started to sink in at 4070 metres. Clouds and mist covered our view and we were doubtful that we would be able to see anything. Over the edge, we caught a glimpse of the lake and were blown away by its majestic beauty, making the trip all the while worth it.
We sat looking at the vastness of the volcano, the lake and the mountains surrounding us, in awe at the beauty of nature. Our travel experience in Colombia opened us up to a world to truckies and the lives that they lead while being on the road. It’s a solitary life, many weeks away from their families, a double life, the road and the family being separate, kids growing up without their fathers around and wives lonely. They work many hours with sometimes very little sleep, having to adhere to the transit laws and regulations in place and if they work for themselves they’re on call for the next shipment even while at home. They are much more subjected to danger, accidents from night-time driving along mountainous road, micro-sleep as well as muggings. Many choose the trade out of obligation or because they grew up driving trucks and that’s what they know. One may have a stereotype image of a trucky being rough, tough and uninterested in society but this proved to be very untrue, meeting a lot of truckies who were concerned by the world around them, wanting to travel, were conscious about social issues and worried about where it was all leading to. They picked us up for different reasons I’m sure, but mostly I would say, would be for some company on their long trips, someone to talk to and share stories with.
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