Colombia
I came back from Colombia a few days ago. It's getting really hard for me to come back to NY... It's hard to come to concrete and asphalt after walking on sand and earth for a while... I decided that the reason why I like Goa in India and Tyrona in Colombia so much is that I am not enclosed by walls there. In Goa I slept in a coco hut and in Tyrona I slept on a hammock with a roof made from coco leaves. So this must be what I crave - a way to live outside, all the time, day and night, being surrounded by nature instead of other buildings... Regarding the details:
It took me 18 hours to get to Santa Marta by bus. Most of it I slept but I watched the sunrise on the bus and the places we passed on the way were beautiful. The road in some places was really rough. Not as bad as the road from Diu to Bombay/Mumbai but almost as bad... But the bus had the airconditioning so that made the 18 hours pleasant. When we arrived in Santa Marta and left the ac'ed bus the heat wave hit me... it was really hot, hot and dry. I got a collectivo to the city center, which is basically around the beach and port, and I found the Mira Mar hostel which was recommended in the Footprint guidebook. I got a bed in the dorm, showered and ate, went for a walk around the city, walking very slowly in that heat, and after I came back I met Arava, a girl from Israel, who shared the dorm room with me. Arava got back from the hike to the Lost City and was covered by mosquito bites. I decided, even before I saw Arava's legs bitten to the limits, that I would not do the trail. It was six days, six days of walking up and down the mountains, and I thought I was just not feeling like walking a lot this time... I just felt like spending time on the beach and I decided then that I would stay in Tyrona if the beaches were as nice as people were telling me they were. The next day the hostel arranged a taxi for Arava and I, and also Susanne and Oliver from Germany, to take us the 35 kilometers to the entrance of the park where we got our tickets and then the extra 5 km to the absolute end of the road. From there we walked the trail in the jungle another few km to the coast and we reached Arrecifes - a very nice campground with hammocks to rent, a restuarant, bathrooms and showers. We decided to go another few km to the other campground, Cabo de San Juan de Guia, which we heard had beautiful beach and which had a more of a backpackers' atmosphere. All the beaches and little bays we passed along the way were breathtaking. Midway between Arrecifes and Cabo is La Piscina - a natural pool - the rocks block the waves so la piscina is calm and the currents are not as strong as the ones close to Arrecifes. La Piscina is a great place for snorkling and I spent a lot of time doing that there, observing all kinds of fish and corrals. When we reached Cabo I felt like home. Everything was very basic there: bathrooms, cold-water showers ("coeducational" and without any walls so you eaither take a shower nude or in a swimming suit), and restaurant. Hammocks are $5 a night and the tent space is about the same. Living conditions are basic at Cabo but the beaches are beautiful and atmosphere is great - it's one of these places which attracts people who like nature and quietness and the company of other such globtrotters who don't care for luxury so much as for the spirit of adventure. Arava decided to go back the next day since she had other places to visit and Suzy and Ollie also returned to Santa Marta because it was almost the end of their trip in Colombia. I was sad to see them leave so soon - we had wonderful conversations and enjoyed eath others company - but the day they left I met Leiner, who works as a guide in the park, and also Alvaro and Gordo from Bogota and Nestor from a city I forgot the name of but which is close to the border with Venezuela. The next day I also met Narciso and Carlos, also from Bogota. We spent a lot of time together. The first day we went on a small hike to Pueblito - remains of the village of one of the indigenous groups. We walked up the mountain first in humid heat, then in the tropical rain. The ruins are small but the atmosphere of the place is wonderful. The indians still live there and operate a small store with some artesanias and cold drinks. Along the way in the mountains we saw some monkeys of the makkak family, lizards, birds and lush vegetation. My plan was to just lie flat on the beach all the time but the first few days were a lot about walking, the hills, the trails in the jungle, the rocks along the beaches. The first walk on rocks was like rock climbing and it was so difficult that at one point I asked Leiner if a helicopter could just take me from there (we both laughed) because I got to the point where I thought I would not be able to go forward and thinking of going back the same way was eqaully scarry... but I made the big step over the abyss of 7 meters (Leiner measured it with a rope - I think he knows every pebble and every crevice in that park) between the rocks and it got easier. I think any type of mountain and rock climbing is good for that sense that things which seem impossible to do, are possible to do when you overcome the fear. And the satisfaction after you've done it is immense. So after the first few days my legs were full of bruises and scratches from walking and snorkling (hitting the rocks and corrals). Then Leiner took Alvaro, Gordo and I and also Abu who works at Cabo, to a place at the other side of the park called Chengue - a bay full of corrals and fish which seems like another fin del mundo. The only way to get there is walking through the mountains or taking a boat from a fishing village, which we did. It's a beautiful but very desolate place. There's a small camp there and a few people run it. Senora Sobeida seems to be the only woman there. She is a licensed masseur and was showing us the massage technigues on Leiner. There is a kind of kitchen there, a table and a roof of plam leaves to hang hammocks under. We stayed there for two days, snorkled and slept during the hot time of the day - the heat is profound and I had a hard time coping with it. There's no fresh water there so anything for drinking or cooking has to be brought from other places. We had some food and were thinking of cooking but, gracias de Dios, the people cooked for us so we eate wonderful dishes prepared mostly of rice, corn flour, fish and other sea food. Everything was delicious and it's incredible that you can cook so well having such limitted cooking facilities (and little water). The animals which were part of that little "farm" were very curious when we got there: the chickens came and jumped on our backpacks, the skinny cat came to get a pat (we were feeding him to fatten him up a little), not to mention all the ants who were climbing our legs in great numbers... I also found a scorpion in my hat but told him to go away - I prefer to be his friend from afar... I think he was hiding in my hat from the rain as that night there was a big thunderstorm, which was nice because it cooled down the air a little. On one of the beaches closer to Cabo I also saw a beautifully green iquana and then in the jungle a small alligator and around everywhere lots and lots of big red and blue crabs. Crabs are very interesting creatures. I observed them many times coming back to Cabo, looking at me, one eye this way, the other that way, walking sideways, jumping in their holes in the sand... A few times we also met the indigenous persons belonging to the Kogui family. They live in the mountains and try to preserve the way they have lived for a very very long time... They farm, live in palm huts, make their own clothing (white pants and shirts and stripped bags), and sometimes come down to exchange goods. They are tiny and lean people. Their knowledge of Spanish is limited - they speak their own language. Once when Alvaro and I met a Kogui young man Alvaro asked him how old he was and he said "I think about 20". Time is not something that preoccupies the minds of the truly free people... Looking into the eyes of a Kogui person is seeing a different reality, the reality of honesty and innocence. The evening I spent in Santa Marta I went to the beach and I met Edouardo who is an older person and who was telling me how he and other seven kids were the only survivors of a massacre on his village a long time ago, during the "war with the Colombian government" as he called it. He lost his village and his family and was wandering around for some time, looking for a way to live. Now, being older, he found his peace and his home in the mountains not far away from Santa Marta. He makes jewellery and sells it on the beach and enjoys his life "in between", being part of the modern society but keeping his indigenous values... He is a very wise man. His education is his life's experience and I believe it is the best education - it makes a person modest and compassionate. Spending time among people honest and free from fear (basically if you have nothing, there's nothing to loose and so there's no fear of loosing anything... not even a notion of loosing your face which so precoupies the Western minds seems to exist there...) makes it hard to come back to NY - a city of fake smiles and lots of fear... but coming back to school is wonderful. I met with my group and my teachers and my heart is expanding again, with admiration and appreciation, and gratitude to be part of this wonderful school and group. This semester we are beginning observation in our school clinic and checking the pulses and tongues of REAL patients and doing assassment and proposing methods of treatment so I am very excited. Yesterday my classmates Autumn and Shoan and I went to get our white lab coats and it seemed like a big thing to me. I am going to write more soon about my various thoughts. I am going to school now for the first internal anatomy class with a wonderful Ms. Linda Puckett who will make it fun and easy to digest.
And a little note to all wonderful people whom I met in Cabo and who are reading my blog: greetings and many hugs to you dear new friends! The memory of the place and our time spent together will be with me for ever. Until we sea each other again muchos besos.
It took me 18 hours to get to Santa Marta by bus. Most of it I slept but I watched the sunrise on the bus and the places we passed on the way were beautiful. The road in some places was really rough. Not as bad as the road from Diu to Bombay/Mumbai but almost as bad... But the bus had the airconditioning so that made the 18 hours pleasant. When we arrived in Santa Marta and left the ac'ed bus the heat wave hit me... it was really hot, hot and dry. I got a collectivo to the city center, which is basically around the beach and port, and I found the Mira Mar hostel which was recommended in the Footprint guidebook. I got a bed in the dorm, showered and ate, went for a walk around the city, walking very slowly in that heat, and after I came back I met Arava, a girl from Israel, who shared the dorm room with me. Arava got back from the hike to the Lost City and was covered by mosquito bites. I decided, even before I saw Arava's legs bitten to the limits, that I would not do the trail. It was six days, six days of walking up and down the mountains, and I thought I was just not feeling like walking a lot this time... I just felt like spending time on the beach and I decided then that I would stay in Tyrona if the beaches were as nice as people were telling me they were. The next day the hostel arranged a taxi for Arava and I, and also Susanne and Oliver from Germany, to take us the 35 kilometers to the entrance of the park where we got our tickets and then the extra 5 km to the absolute end of the road. From there we walked the trail in the jungle another few km to the coast and we reached Arrecifes - a very nice campground with hammocks to rent, a restuarant, bathrooms and showers. We decided to go another few km to the other campground, Cabo de San Juan de Guia, which we heard had beautiful beach and which had a more of a backpackers' atmosphere. All the beaches and little bays we passed along the way were breathtaking. Midway between Arrecifes and Cabo is La Piscina - a natural pool - the rocks block the waves so la piscina is calm and the currents are not as strong as the ones close to Arrecifes. La Piscina is a great place for snorkling and I spent a lot of time doing that there, observing all kinds of fish and corrals. When we reached Cabo I felt like home. Everything was very basic there: bathrooms, cold-water showers ("coeducational" and without any walls so you eaither take a shower nude or in a swimming suit), and restaurant. Hammocks are $5 a night and the tent space is about the same. Living conditions are basic at Cabo but the beaches are beautiful and atmosphere is great - it's one of these places which attracts people who like nature and quietness and the company of other such globtrotters who don't care for luxury so much as for the spirit of adventure. Arava decided to go back the next day since she had other places to visit and Suzy and Ollie also returned to Santa Marta because it was almost the end of their trip in Colombia. I was sad to see them leave so soon - we had wonderful conversations and enjoyed eath others company - but the day they left I met Leiner, who works as a guide in the park, and also Alvaro and Gordo from Bogota and Nestor from a city I forgot the name of but which is close to the border with Venezuela. The next day I also met Narciso and Carlos, also from Bogota. We spent a lot of time together. The first day we went on a small hike to Pueblito - remains of the village of one of the indigenous groups. We walked up the mountain first in humid heat, then in the tropical rain. The ruins are small but the atmosphere of the place is wonderful. The indians still live there and operate a small store with some artesanias and cold drinks. Along the way in the mountains we saw some monkeys of the makkak family, lizards, birds and lush vegetation. My plan was to just lie flat on the beach all the time but the first few days were a lot about walking, the hills, the trails in the jungle, the rocks along the beaches. The first walk on rocks was like rock climbing and it was so difficult that at one point I asked Leiner if a helicopter could just take me from there (we both laughed) because I got to the point where I thought I would not be able to go forward and thinking of going back the same way was eqaully scarry... but I made the big step over the abyss of 7 meters (Leiner measured it with a rope - I think he knows every pebble and every crevice in that park) between the rocks and it got easier. I think any type of mountain and rock climbing is good for that sense that things which seem impossible to do, are possible to do when you overcome the fear. And the satisfaction after you've done it is immense. So after the first few days my legs were full of bruises and scratches from walking and snorkling (hitting the rocks and corrals). Then Leiner took Alvaro, Gordo and I and also Abu who works at Cabo, to a place at the other side of the park called Chengue - a bay full of corrals and fish which seems like another fin del mundo. The only way to get there is walking through the mountains or taking a boat from a fishing village, which we did. It's a beautiful but very desolate place. There's a small camp there and a few people run it. Senora Sobeida seems to be the only woman there. She is a licensed masseur and was showing us the massage technigues on Leiner. There is a kind of kitchen there, a table and a roof of plam leaves to hang hammocks under. We stayed there for two days, snorkled and slept during the hot time of the day - the heat is profound and I had a hard time coping with it. There's no fresh water there so anything for drinking or cooking has to be brought from other places. We had some food and were thinking of cooking but, gracias de Dios, the people cooked for us so we eate wonderful dishes prepared mostly of rice, corn flour, fish and other sea food. Everything was delicious and it's incredible that you can cook so well having such limitted cooking facilities (and little water). The animals which were part of that little "farm" were very curious when we got there: the chickens came and jumped on our backpacks, the skinny cat came to get a pat (we were feeding him to fatten him up a little), not to mention all the ants who were climbing our legs in great numbers... I also found a scorpion in my hat but told him to go away - I prefer to be his friend from afar... I think he was hiding in my hat from the rain as that night there was a big thunderstorm, which was nice because it cooled down the air a little. On one of the beaches closer to Cabo I also saw a beautifully green iquana and then in the jungle a small alligator and around everywhere lots and lots of big red and blue crabs. Crabs are very interesting creatures. I observed them many times coming back to Cabo, looking at me, one eye this way, the other that way, walking sideways, jumping in their holes in the sand... A few times we also met the indigenous persons belonging to the Kogui family. They live in the mountains and try to preserve the way they have lived for a very very long time... They farm, live in palm huts, make their own clothing (white pants and shirts and stripped bags), and sometimes come down to exchange goods. They are tiny and lean people. Their knowledge of Spanish is limited - they speak their own language. Once when Alvaro and I met a Kogui young man Alvaro asked him how old he was and he said "I think about 20". Time is not something that preoccupies the minds of the truly free people... Looking into the eyes of a Kogui person is seeing a different reality, the reality of honesty and innocence. The evening I spent in Santa Marta I went to the beach and I met Edouardo who is an older person and who was telling me how he and other seven kids were the only survivors of a massacre on his village a long time ago, during the "war with the Colombian government" as he called it. He lost his village and his family and was wandering around for some time, looking for a way to live. Now, being older, he found his peace and his home in the mountains not far away from Santa Marta. He makes jewellery and sells it on the beach and enjoys his life "in between", being part of the modern society but keeping his indigenous values... He is a very wise man. His education is his life's experience and I believe it is the best education - it makes a person modest and compassionate. Spending time among people honest and free from fear (basically if you have nothing, there's nothing to loose and so there's no fear of loosing anything... not even a notion of loosing your face which so precoupies the Western minds seems to exist there...) makes it hard to come back to NY - a city of fake smiles and lots of fear... but coming back to school is wonderful. I met with my group and my teachers and my heart is expanding again, with admiration and appreciation, and gratitude to be part of this wonderful school and group. This semester we are beginning observation in our school clinic and checking the pulses and tongues of REAL patients and doing assassment and proposing methods of treatment so I am very excited. Yesterday my classmates Autumn and Shoan and I went to get our white lab coats and it seemed like a big thing to me. I am going to write more soon about my various thoughts. I am going to school now for the first internal anatomy class with a wonderful Ms. Linda Puckett who will make it fun and easy to digest.
And a little note to all wonderful people whom I met in Cabo and who are reading my blog: greetings and many hugs to you dear new friends! The memory of the place and our time spent together will be with me for ever. Until we sea each other again muchos besos.
posted by Asia Kabat at 9:25 PM
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