Santa Marta - Part 2/2

May 12 - 17

After a long day out at Playa Cristal on Saturday (and, let's admit, a bit of a hangover...) I relaxed a bit around the homestay on Sunday and went down to the Santa Marta beachfront in the afternoon with Nicole for a swim to relieve the humidity. In the evening, being a Sunday, most of the restaurants were all closed, but Nicole directed me to a little street where all the local street vendors set up their stalls to sell dinner and freshly squeezed juices. It was super cheap and yummy (though maybe not very healthy?!) and I got a jugo de tomate de arbol con leche - a tree tomato juice with milk base. A tree tomato, apparently is another name for a tamarillo.

Cheap street food and juices were one of my favourite things about South America

The Monday was a public holiday in Colombia, so there was no school and I took the opportunity to head up to a little village called Minca up in the jungle. I took a collectivo (a car that waits until full to go) to get there, and took the chance just to wander around in the jungle a bit by myself, enjoying the tranquility. I made my way to a swimming area called Pozo Azul and sat down for a bit of lunch and read my book with my feet in the river. There were lots of locals around who'd come up from Santa Marta for the day on their motorbikes, having picnics and doing lots of jumps into the water. I also spotted a few neat little birds along the way.

Cute bird #1

Cute bird #2

On the way back, the collectivo was nowhere to be seen - so I got a helmet handed to me and went back on the back of a motorbike! This is quite common in Colombia - these "taxis" ride around with their spare helmet on one arm and will take you just about anywhere. I was a bit sceptical, but the guy got me back to Santa Marta in one piece pretty safely.

After a very relaxing long weekend, I then headed back to the small school run by Fundacion Marisposas Amarillas. This was my first day "teaching", as such, since Thursday and Friday had both been pretty relaxed.

There's a reasonable variation in the abililty of these kids. Some of them, especially the youngest, were very shy and didn't recognise letters at all, certainly were not able to read or write - while others knew quite a bit. Some were just able to count to 5 or 10, while others would confidently get past 40. Regardless, there was a much greater need to really try and teach them things.

Tuesday's class ended up being a bit of a disaster - I'd expected Helga to be there, and possibly another local who sometimes came to help out. But it ended up being just me with 12 kids of greatly varying abilities. I had thought I'd been prepared but it was very hard to set exercises in their books as all the other kids would get distracted very quickly. Thankfully after a couple of hours, Susan (who'd been at Playa Cristal with us on Saturday) arrived to teach Ampara computer classes and agreed to help me out with the kids instead.

I spent the afternoon preparing some more exercises for the kids so I would have a better chance on Wednesday if I was alone again. When I arrived, though, Helga was there with three new volunteers, Megan (a Canadian now living in Australia), Allie and Stu (both Australians). The ability to split the class up between the brighter kids and the more challenged kids helped a lot, and we managed to have a pretty productive class. It was quite a relief and I enjoyed lunch and later a beer on the beach and dinner with the others.

Some games with the kids as a break from numbers and letters

Cutting and pasting exercise to learn about the letter sounds

Thursday was, of course, another sports day and we had lots of fun running around with all the kids again. The hot and humid climate made it pretty tiring though, and towards the end a lot of us were seeking the shade.

One of my favourite little kids - Luis Miguel, or Luismi for short!

I'd then agreed to have lunch with Ampara and Ricardo - it was a good way for Ampara to make a little bit of money - and Ampara explained I had to paint a New Zealand flag on the wall. There was an American, German, French, Swiss, British, Japanese and several other flags on the wall, but no NZ flag, so I was thrilled to be able to paint one (and before an Australian flag too!!).

My attempt at an NZ flag on the wall

Later in the afternoon I headed down to the beach with Nicole for a couple of beers. Nicole had befriended Eduardo, who puts up little shelters on the beach and charges people to use them, but also sold beers to people, and we enjoyed talking to him and his wife who ran a hair stylist operation on the beach too.

Santa Marta beachfront in the evening

Santa Marta beachfront in the evening

My last day at the school, Friday, was quite relaxed, and after having lunch made by Ampara again, her son Ricardo gave me a painting he'd done for me as a thanks for helping out at the school. It was very impressively painted and quite a special gift to get.

Ricardo and I with the awesome painting he made for me

The afternoon was spent getting ready for a 5-day trek to Ciudad Perdida, which I was leaving for the next morning. It would be my last night in Santa Marta, except for a quick stay after the trek, and Nicole's last night there too, so we enjoyed a few beers at a popular local plaza, where lots of people walked around with chilly bins full of beers, selling them to you where you sat for just 2,000 pesos (about NZ$1.30). Then we hit the town and danced the night away with the locals!

It was kinda sad to be leaving Santa Marta - I'd come to really enjoy my time there, and was even starting to get used to the humidity. However the trek to Ciudad Perdida promised to be really interesting, and was going to be the last major thing I did in South America, as I was due to fly out the following Friday. Time to make the most of my last week!

Santa Marta - Part 1/2

May 8 - 11

After a 3.5 hour bus trip, I arrived at a small resort called El Rodadero where I'd booked a hostel for a night. While it was nice, the resort was actually 10 minutes drive from Santa Marta proper, which I hadn't realised. I caught up on a bit of relaxing and emails, got in touch with the volunteering foundation and agreed to meet Helga, their local coordinator, in town the next day, when I moved to a hostel in town, just a couple of blocks from the beach.

I spent the afternoon exploring the central town, which was much less touristy than Cartagena and with lots of locals out and about, with a cool little vibe in town. Santa Marta was actually where Simón Bolívar died, one of the main leaders of the revolutionary movement in South America, and the first president of Colombia. Bolivia is, of course, named after him.

Simón Bolívar
Nació en Caracas el 24 de Julio de 1783
Murió en Santa Marta el 17 de Diciembre 1830

One of the other volunteers, Emma, was staying at the same hostel, so I met her the next morning to catch the bus to the school. Fundación Mariposas Amarillas (the "Yellow Butterflies Foundation" - www.fmacolombia.weebly.com) runs two schools for children in poorer areas of Santa Marta, each with some 15 kids between about 4-10 years old. They also have a couple of other programmes, such as teaching English to adults. They'd got me to help out at their Barrio Fundadores school, where we arrived after half an hour on a bumpy minivan labelled "Directo Bastidas", right on the edge of town.

Fundación Mariposas Amarillas logo on the side of the schoolhouse

It was a pretty poor sort of area, and us two gringos definitely stood out, although I think the locals were pretty used to seeing the little school's "teachers" come past. I made sure to keep my watch and camera out of sight though. The school had a couple of small rooms with a no-glass window to let in the wind as a relief from the heat and humidity (you needed it). In another back room, Ampara and her son Ricardo lived together, supported by the foundation. While he didn't attend the school, Ricardo sometimes came along for sports and was a very talented artist. Ampara would make us a cup of coffee each morning and sometimes help out a little in the school.

Lining up to get a banana at breaktime outside the school

The kids were just as gorgeous and photogenic as those I'd met in Cusco, and just as happy to see their teachers arrive. However for these kids, this school is the only place they learn any thing, as they didn't attend a state-run school. It meant the focus was much more on teaching, and just teaching the basics at that. However, my first day was a Thursday - sports day. So after enough of the kids arrived, we walked down to a small, sandy, dusty sports area. Sports was very popular, as at Cusco, and they enjoyed playing a few simple games such as bullrush (tag, not tackle!) and a "duck, duck, chicken" variant. They then headed back to the school a bit earlier than usual to make Mothers Day cards (how cute!).

Two of the gorgeous girls at sports day

That night I went out for dinner with the two other volunteers, both of whom were ending their stints at the school the next day, Friday. It was also quite a casual day, as the mothers all came along, got a bit of cake and the cards the kids had made the day before, and Helga talked to them a bit about the school, reinforcing the importance of the kids arriving on time etc.

Then of course it was the weekend! I'd organised to move in to a homestay for the next week, which would give me a much more genuine local experience than the hostel. The other volunteer at the school, Nicole, was also staying there and asked if I'd like to go with her and a couple of friends she knew (2 of them Colombians) to Playa Blanca in Parque Nacional de Tayrona, which is quite famous for it's lovely beaches and landscape. Unfortunately, the government charge an extortionate 37,500 pesos (about NZ$23) for foreigners just to enter the park, and only 14,000 pesos for locals - but our friends' attempt to get us through for the locals price was thwarted by my blonde hair...

After another hour or so of driving on a very pot-hole ridden road, we arrived at another beach from where you had to take a boat or walk. We eventually decided to walk, and it ended up being only just over half an hour. Playa Blanca is quite popular with Samarios (people from Santa Marta) in the weekend, with companies providing a bus and boat service, so it was packed with people, but understandably so - it was a lovely spot. We enjoyed the small picnic lunch we'd brought, lounged in the sun, swam in the crystal clear water for which the beach is named, and chatted about the world in general - all in Spanish, which was a good test for me, and which I mostly understood!

Nice spot huh? Playa Cristal, Carribean coast of Colombia - after the crowds had left

The crystal-clear waters for which the beach is named made for some good snorkelling and views of a few brightly-decorated fish

Juan Carlos, Nicole and I debating the world in Spanish

About 4.30pm, all the boats took everyone back to the end of the road - but because we'd come in on a private car, we were about to stay a while longer and enjoy the now-empty beach to ourselves. We walked back to the car around 5.30pm, catching a glorious sunset across the water as we walked...

Glorious much?

Jealous yet?

As we drove back, we spotted a number of dark spots on the road - and realised they were crabs, who I guess were crawling back to their night spots. It was unavoidable not to drive over some of them - and some were quite big, making a rather sickening crunch!

We got back to Santa Marta with a bit of a party mood, and so headed over to Taganga, 10 minutes north of Santa Marta over a little hill (as I tried to explain to the others that the kiwi is a flightless bird native to NZ, and not a fruit!). Taganga used to be a small fishing village that is now the gringo central of Santa Marta, with lots of hostels and beachfront bars and restaurants. We got various fish dishes (how could you get anything else?!) and a couple of beers, grabbed a cocktail and then headed to The Mirador - a rather awesome club up on the hill. It was open air, and had a lovely view down over the little town and bay - and lots of partying gringos and locals alike till well into the early hours...

I had a few other adventures in Santa Marta too - the rest of the long weekend, and a week volunteering at the school - but this post is getting a bit long, so it'll have to wait.

Cartagena - the walled city

May 4 - 7

After over a week in the Amazonian jungle of Iquitos and Leticia, I flew from Leticia to Cartagena, on the Caribbean coast of Colombia.

Cartagena (officially Cartagena de Indias, to distinguish it from the Spanish city) was a very contested city for many years, often attacked by various pirates and conquerors, despite the forbidding walls that surround what is now known as the old city. It was also the first Latin American city to declare independence from Spain and was where Simon Bolivar's campaigning for independence was started. These days it is a very popular tourist destination for everyone from backpackers to cruise ship passengers. The central city architecture is very colonial in style, with lots of bright colours, narrow streets and cute balconies - and very photogenic.

Cartagena felt like a very relaxed, laid-back city, and was just as hot and humid as the jungle. I arrived late on a Saturday evening, and after realising I'd left my phone in the taxi from the airport (bugger!), headed around the corner to a small square for dinner from one of the many street stalls. The square was the "place to be", with lots of people sitting around drinking the local beer, Aguila - and also a very serious chess game going on!

The next day I headed into the old city to have a look around. I wandered around a few of the city walls, and spotted a rather unusual place for a baseball game...

A very serious (umpired!) baseball game on a closed off street

The city's colonial buildings were something I quite wanted to see, and I wasn't disappointed - some very gorgeously coloured buildings, with lovely narrow balconies... Well, see for yourself:

Typical street just around from my hostel

Narrow street within the old city

Another street within the old city, with the Cathedral behind

One of the churches had some cool little metal people outside it, set up for art:

Cool little metal artworks

And there were some more impressive city walls:

Looking out over the city walls, up to 12 m high and 18 m thick

Perching atop the walls...

I went back to the same square for dinner that night, to be presented with something quite different - an open-air, free zumba class, with some 100-odd people dancing in the square! Everyone was having a great time, and really getting into the Colombian party spirit. I was semi-tempted to join in - but the thought of exercising in that humidity was too much!

Free open-air zumba classes - probably to Gagnam Style (again - groan!)

The next day I headed up to the Castillo de San Felipe, which was part of the city's defences along with it's walls, situated across a narrow strait from the walled city. It's a huge stone fort built up on a hill with a very commanding view over the old city, with some interesting tunnels and a massive Colombian flag flying from the top.

Castillo de San Felipe from the old city across the strait

Some of the fort's battlements 

The commanding view and the Colombian flag

More flag - when the wind caught it better! 

More battlements with a mock cannon

That afternoon, I headed to the Mercado Bazurto, the locals market about 45 minutes walk out of the main town centre. I was very noticeably the only gringo around, but I always liked wandering through the local markets and just observing everything around me. What was most noticeable, though, was the massive difference to the very Westernized shopping mall that was basically nextdoor - I thought this highlighted the wealth difference that exists very clearly.

I have to mention the British guy that stayed in my dorm room in Cartagena. Probably in his 50s, this was his last stop, having travelled from Ushuaia, on the very southern tip of Argentina, through Chile, Bolovia, Peru and Ecuador by land the whole way - and had finally arrived at the north coast. I thought this was a pretty impressive achievement! He was called Peter - maybe that was trying to tell me something...

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There were a few noticeable differences about Colombia compared to where I'd spent most of my time, in Peru:

• The ethnic mix was quite different, with a decent proportion of people of African descent, due to slave trading in the Caribbean.
• The Spanish pronunciation was a little bit different - and harder for me to understand being used to Peruvian Spanish - with the end "s" of words often being barely pronounced, more like an "h", and a few different words and mannerisms:
• "Avocado" is palta in Peru, but aguacate in Colombia
• "Pull" (i.e. on a door) is jale in Peru, but hale in Colombia
• In Colombia, shopkeepers, touts etc will say a la orden to you a lot, meaning something like "at your service" - which I never heard in Peru
• The Colombians like to play loud music in the streets - a lot!
• The infrastructure was noticeably more developed - the water is safe to drink, for starters, but also the roads were better quality and better signposted.

People say the Colombians are friendlier than Peruvians too, although I didn't really notice this too much - maybe a bit more willing to help. They also say Colombians have the most beautiful women - but I wouldn't dare comment on that!

After spending almost a month staying no more than 3 nights in the same bed, I was missing the long-term feel of staying in Cusco, staying and spending time with some locals, and doing a bit of good by volunteering. With that in mind, I'd been in contact with an organisation in Santa Marta, a city some 3-4 hours east along the coast. I'd organised to spend a week and a half helping out at one of their little schools, so packed my things again and headed off there.

The 3-way border in the Amazon

May 1 - 4

After a very enjoyable jungle trip, I had to get up very early to catch a mototaxi down to the dock in Iquitos, to catch the rápido (speedboat) for the 8-hour trip down the Amazon River to the 3-way border between Colombia, Peru and Brazil. The loading up was quite amusing, with some Peruvians loading an incredible amount of luggage onto the top of the boat - including one guy with a massive (probably 3-4m diameter) satellite dish!

The trip itself was pretty boring, going too quickly to really see anything - especially when the rain set in and the captain was struggling to see out the window in front of him. Thankfully the Amazon River has a lot of manoeuvring room! They served up a pretty ordinary lunch and I had to put up with the mother and 3-yr old kid squeezed into the seat next to me for the whole trip.

Eventually, about 3.30pm, several hours late, we arrived at the small village of Santa Rosa, which is still in Peru, on an island in the middle of the river. Leticia (Colombia) and Tabatinga (Brazil) sit across the border on the eastern bank of the river:

Three-way border - Peru to the west, Colombia to the north, Brazil to the east.

Everyone piles off the boat, collects their bags (and satellite dishes), and those who are leaving the country wander across to the little immigration office. It was opened especially for us, as we tip-toed across a wooden board to get in - half the village was under a shallow amount of river water due to the high season.

After adding up that I'd spent 89 of my allowable 90 days in Peru, the very casual immigration officer stamped my passport, and we headed back to the dock for the 5-minute ferry ride across to Leticia. By the time I found somewhere to stay, struggling around with my big pack in the humidity, it was too late to go to their little immigration office - no matter - you get up to 24 hours in limbo!

View back up the Amazon River as we crossed over to Colombia

In the morning I walked up to Leticia airport to get admitted to Colombia, and wandered around the small riverfront, which doubled as a wee market out of the dug-out canoes - bananas and fish being the most popular items to sell...

Locals selling their wares on the riverfront

Bananas anyone?

Santa Rosa was really nothing much more than a border village, but Leticia and Tabatinga are both reasonable sized towns and share a land border, so the Colombian Peso and the Brazilian Real are both accepted in many places in those two towns. The Colombian Peso is a bit stronger though (ignoring the factor of 1000!), so many places will offer to accept reals "1 x 1" ("1 for 1"), and give a "discount" for paying in pesos.

Typical shop sign accepting reals and pesos

That afternoon, I decided to head across to Tabatinga, just to say I'd been to Brazil, and for the novelty of having eaten lunch in Peru, dinner in Colombia and lunch in Brazil in the space of about 24 hours. There are no border controls immediately between the 3 towns, but if you try and leave any of the 3 towns you get your passport checked to ensure you're legally in the right country. So, I was free to wander across to Brazil for a few hours! It was a very non-descript border, with just one small sign announcing the border... In Portuguese!

The small border crossing sign into Brazil

Despite having learnt a fair bit of Spanish, it was virtually useless once you cross over the little imaginary line into Brazil. I could not understand a single word when a guy tried to talk to me in a little bar where I got myself a Brazilian beer later on, despite a lot of the words being somewhat similar (e.g. the bottom statement would probably be Tabatinga le recibe con brazos abiertos in Spanish - Tabatinga receives you with open arms). It was slightly unnerving not being able to speak the local language all of a sudden - Tabatinga is definitely not a typical tourist destination, so there was certainly no English around!

I did manage to find a good spot to see all three countries at once though...

The three countries in the middle of the Amazon

There wasn't a lot else to do in Leticia, since I'd already done a jungle trip out of Iquitos. I caught up on emails and generally tried to avoid the oppressive heat and humidity - a bit of a struggle as it was everywhere, all day long.

However, Leticia was my gateway to the rest of Colombia - a domestic flight out of here into the rest of the country was much cheaper than an international flight into Colombia. (There was no chance of heading over land into Colombia - while Leticia is considered safe, the regions north of here are still very much coca-growing areas and dominated by guerrillas). So, after a couple of days relaxing there, I caught a flight to Cartagena, on Colombia's northern Carribean coast, to continue my adventures...