Once upon a time in Colombia

Shortly after my arrival to Colombia I felt the usual urge for climbing. And so I went to Suesca, a place about 60 km north of Bogota. There is a massive crag along a neglected railway track with established 400 sport and trad routes, including some multi-pitch climbing too. I have made friends with some local climbers as soon as I reached the crag, with whom I have climbed many times ever since. I slept on a beautiful ledge within the crag my first night which proved very pleasant. And so we climbed and enjoyed it as ever. The following night the 4 of us squeezed in a Miguel’s little room just to rest before leaving for another nice climbing spot in Suta Tauza where there is plenty of boulder problems surrounded by the magnificent scenery, green and rocky valley. The night after we stayed at a friend’s parents’ “finca” indulging ourselves in a hot Jacuzzi bath which was my first experience of this kind. I also cooked with “tomates de arbol” which I found growing in the garden, I added them to the morning omelet which was interesting but I learned that they taste better in a jugo (pronounced /hugo/)… 

A week or so later… I was moving from my first CS host to another, from northern part of Bogotá to the central one. It was all happening later in the evening as the circumstances didn’t allow it any earlier. When I got off the Transmilenio bus (local transportation system) I guessed my way through. It is not that difficult here as they use the grid street system where the streets and avenues are numbered. The trouble began when the little alley I was walking through got narrower. As started to think that this might be a little bit dodgy, a guy, who I noticed with the corner of my sight, started to follow me. He soon got very close to me and started saying repeatedly “celular” (mobile phone). When I looked at him he was holding a knife blade right next to my face, threatening me with it.

Honestly, I didn’t have a clue what to do, it felt unreal and I was scared as hell, unable to run fast with 20kg on my back. I kept telling him I didn’t understand him and kept going my way while he was pulling me back into the dodgy alley. At this point I realised that my escape was only about 20 meters ahead of me, at the main road. In the meantime a young woman entered the little street and, when she saw what was happening, she started banging on one of the metal gates. This made the robber step back and gave me enough time to escape. 

Shaken but happy that I survived such situation scratchless I reached my destination. I stood there ringing the bell but no one answered. The light in the apartment seemed to be on, I even tried to speak to the neighbour but I think my Spanish wasn’t sufficient to explain my situation. Then, suddenly, a car pulled over about 30 metres above the entrance where I was standing. Two lads came out and started walking towards me. I greeted them hoping they might let me in. Instead, one of them pulled out a knife and the other one grabbed my bag and started to run with it towards the car. “What the fuck”, I thought aloud. It took me about 3 seconds to wake up again. I caught up with “the other guy” who was already inside on the back seats with my backpack but he didn’t manage to close the door yet. I grabbed hold of him trying to pull him and my luggage out and asking him all along, and not very kindly, to return my property. But he sat there quietly not letting go of whatever he was holding onto. Menwhile, the other guy and his weapon, also slightly taken with my sudden reaction, tripped over and dropped his “gun”. Then he quickly got into the car while “the other guy” held on even tighter. The car started to move. I started to walk. It speeded up. I started to run. And soon enough it was going too fast for me to keep up so I let go. That was it, all gone. Well except my passport, debit card, a bit of cash, broken mobile phone, pocket knife, the clothes I was wearing and my lovely boots! They almost robbed me of all my enthusiasm too, but it kept burning and, thanks to all my dear friends, it is now back to its full blaze! It wasn’t easy, in my head there was  a proper turmoil going on. But few days later I got a teaching job and people looked after me. And going out in Bogotá may be fun too… 

Especially if you go to the underground salsa club and you are not sober, accompanied with some alike crazy people. Everybody dances like there was no tomorrow, aguardiende is drunk straight from the bottle, sweat condenses on the ceiling and rains back onto people. Spectacular! The other time I went out was again with my dear doctor and some more of her friends and two bottles of Famous Grouse. We made it to a private party in an old and huge apartment downtown. We danced, we drunk, we had tons of fun until, and that I don’t remember, we left. Apparently we took a taxi. Apparently I opened the door before the taxi managed to stop and I started walking. Then I remember this glimpse of a struggle to find my way around even though I was nearby and it’s usually very easy. There are the signs with street and avenue numbers on almost each corner of the block. But by the time I got to the next corner I couldn’t remember what the previous one said… I woke up in the morning, in my bed, very thirsty and with some blood on my trousers which wasn’t my. Who knows. Not me. 

Bogotá is full of homeless people who are often drug addicts or “recycladores” (people who collect the street refuse and take it to the recycling collection points and so earn some pennies) or both. The later ones are my personal heroes. They can often be seen pulling a two-wheel cart, piled up high with rubbish, right through the crazy Bogotá traffic. Once I approached one of these guys and asked if I could help him pulling his cart. He was hesitant but, when I insisted, he agreed. And so I pulled and he collected. I think we must have made a good team as we got some attention from the onlookers, while we were stuck in traffic (with the trolley, ridiculous). It’s hard to survive

in Bogotá doing this. Once I was walking home when I saw another recyclador loading his trolley so quickly and skillfully that I had to pause. I shared some bread and water with him and helped him to finish it off. This is, by the way, how I pay the taxes here, directly to the hungriest, with food.

Once upon a time, when coming back to the “Colombian capital of chaos” from Suesca, I found out about a trash metal concert. So I went. It was a good one, sound bands, reasonably priced beer but not very lively audience. I had to mosh alone. After the gig I didn’t have enough money to pay the taxi all the way home so I went looking for someone to share it with. The first guy I asked was up for it but in the end we took a bus because he knew how. I invested the spared capital into a slice of naughty pizza and even naughtier beer. And here comes the cherry: My landlady locked me out of the house (“she thought I was not coming home that night?!”). When no one answered my loud-enough-to-wake-the-neighbours-up knocking I put on my climbing shoes and guess what… I wasn’t very sober and my mother won’t be happy… Some serious urban free solo climbing took place before the dodgy roof traversing and down-climbing the other side. 

Truth, it was alright to live this family but things changed. First I lived with a girl, her father and another girl who was renting like me. After about a month or so I came home and the renting girl said she was sad. Why? Because the other two had left. Where? Buenos Aires. Really? Really! Funny, I told them two off for making noise moving the furniture after midnight the night before. A mother (of the girl who left with her father) moved in. With her boyfriend who didn’t like me. And his son who was quite funny but I didn’t understand him. They were alright too and they tried my birthday space flapjack but apparently didn’t feel anything. Except the son who thought that someone was touching his feet all night long. I got high too, the ladder must have had many steps because it took me a while to get back down...

Some interesting projects I have come across so far:

Educational institute for children from a poor neighbourhood in

Bogotá: http://www.nidodelgufo.org/site.php?site=co&lang=spanish&section=sede

Food for homeless people in Bogotá:

http://aguapanelita.org/

Homestay for mentally disabled adults near Bogotá:

http://www.agualinda.org/

Organic coffee farm near Armenia:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nNnBAMbM6-U

Organic and spiritual farmstay near Armenia:

http://ecoaldeaanthakarana.blogspot.com/

Some things I learned about the country in which I've lived for past 8 months

On 8th April last year I flew from Willemstadt to Medellín, the second major city in Colombia. It's told to have about 3.7 million habitants and it's located in Aburrá Valley, a central range of Andes. The city's recent history is closely related to the infamous drug-lord Pablo Escobar who, apparently, helped a lot to develop it in the 80's and early 90's. He used to reward people for killing policemen but also built many schools and hospitals, one time even offering to pay off the Colombian external debt. He was feared and loathed and loved at the same time.

The climate of Colombia and its flora and fauna are some of the most diverse in the world. Colombians claim to have the largest amount of plant and animal species which are not to be found anywhere else in the world, the big part of which lives/grows in the thick jungle of Amazon. There are some isolated tribes too who would certainly preferred to remain this way but, unfortunately, the trends of civilised outer world is difficult to convince and of a diametrically opposite interest.

Most of the country's area is covered with wast flatlands but these are contrasted with some serious mountains such as Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta which reaches up to almost 6000 metres making it the highest coastal mountain range in the world (forbidden to enter due to its sacredness and coca cultivation). And, of course, the Andes mountains, western, central and eastern range. Bogotá is located at its western range at the altitude of 2600 metres.

The political situation, even though it's dramatically improved in recent years (or so they say), is still a bit tense. There is still a civil war on fuelled by certain armed groups (FARC) who are disobedient to the local laws and free to operate in the areas with difficult access though tackled by one of the toughest armies in the world. Such situation may make locals a little bit cautious.

A drug business which wouldn't exist so much without the buying force of the U.S. but which is bombarded under pressure of the U.S., punishing a few unlucky people and the innocent nature is the one that the most uninterested non-Colombians would recognise.

People of Colombia, them I find generally warmer and more open-hearted, more straightforward. I think it's easy to engage with them but one might also be met with some prejudice in a way that every foreigner is a rich gringo (the history of this expression is actually quite funny; during the Mexican - American War in the 19^th century the US soldiers wore green uniforms and the Mexican ones used to shout at them “Green, go” (home, supposedly)), which I'd ignore most of the time. The negative encounters are immediately balanced by good-heartedness. For instance, after a crazy party with a Czech guy I met in Bogotá, I stopped at a small restaurant (there are many restaurants everywhere in Colombia) on my way home and had breakfast, during which I was interrogated by the restaurants owner, cook and server, who, satisfied with my limited answers in my even more limited Spanish, didn't let me pay and said that I was welcome any time I was hungry. I had difficulties disguising my emotions.

By now I think I established myself well among a few communities I happened to infiltrate, I found some good friends who helped me a lot and without who I would probably be back in Europe already. I met a lot of local climbers and mountaineers and I am trying to learn as much as possible from them; the teachers who help me with my teaching techniques and finding new students; I even have my personal doctor who didn't hesitate to come and visit me when I felt unwell and from who I learn a lot not only about health related issues; people who have their homes open for me any time I need it. Travelling really opens such doors for me, love to all those involved and those to be involved in future!

And what about food? The two main meals of the day are “desayuno” (breakfast) and “almuerzo” (lunch). There's a lot of typical stuff around and it varies from region to region. The typical full breakfast would consist of “caldo” which is a simple beef or fish broth with some potatoes and coriander plus “huevos al gusto” plus a chocolate drink with bread, it's sufficient to fill me up well and it can be as cheap as 4000 COP (2USD). Other favourite breakfast option is “tamal” which is rice, peas, a piece of chicken and a hard boiled egg all cooked inside a banana leaf. Then there are all kinds of “arepas” and “empanadas” with even more kinds of fillings. Lunch would normally have two parts, soup (usually “crema” or “sancocho”) and the main dish which is rice, meat(often grilled or “asado”), pulses of the day, a fried platano aka “patacon” and maybe a salad too. All this you can wash down with a tasty “jugo”(pronounced /hugo/) - the fresh fruit juice/smoothie or lemonade. My favourite dishes are “ajiaco” and “bandeja paisa”. In general, the local food is of rather mild flavours but of high nutritional values. People drink a lot of coffee which is usually not very strong and sweet, “aguapanela” (raw cane sugar dissolved in water, doping for the nation-representing cyclists), chocolate drink, jugo, “aromatica” but also alcoholic beverage such as beer, “aguardiente”(sugar cane distillate with an anise flavour), “chicha”(panela and corn flour fermented drink) and “guarapo”(peels of any fruit but most often of pineapple and panela fermented together). And lots of fruits you have never seen in your life. I'm well fed here.

The culture comes with music and it can be heard from many corners – salsa, merenge, regeton, vallenato and more, people love to dance and they seem to have a certain predisposition for this activity. That makes it hard for me to learn (salsa) because I feel like a trunk of hardwood tree next to them.

Another interesting observations: the ability to sell and advertise, they can be very “approachful” which is something unthinkable in Europe; punctuality is a rare phenomenon in Colombia and it took me a while to adapt.