North Colombia with Warmth

Colombia: a country that covers 1,141,748 sq km and has 44 million inhabitants.

The western part, almost half of the total territory, is mountainous, with three Andean chains.

A number of peaks are over 5000m, making them higher then anything in the continental United States. The other half of the country is a vast lowland which is generally divided into the open savannah to the North and the Amazon, which is thick rainforest crisscrossed by rivers, to the South.

Because of a lack of roads in this Eastern part, and the dangers that this land beholds called guerrillas and paramilitaries, you only travel in the mountainous Cordillera and the sweltering Caribbean coastlines of the North. 

With the different altitudes, landscapes, animal and plant life and the Pacific and Caribbean coasts, comes a people of all sorts. From lazy atmospheres in the warm and coastal areas, to hard working campesinos (farmers) in the highlands. From world business and fashion in Bogota and Medellin to local dress and no running water or electricity in far away pueblos. 

Like so many Latin American countries it's astonishing to experience a part of the population ravaged by the ongoing civil war while others bath in the stability of the developed urban centers.

At this moment Colombia is in a super-run to overtake what it had to do without for so many years. All horror stories about the unsafe and crime-stricken past are being buried under an ever present Ejercito Nacional de Colombia and the police who control all highways, mountain roads and city streets. The guerrilla who had the overhand only 6 years ago, are now nowhere in sight because of the intense security sins the presidency of Alvaro Uribe, a president who will probably get elected again because he's the only one with pants (balls) as I've heard said. 

When I ask the people what the difference is between now and six years ago it seems to be nothing. There has always been enough food and never a fear to go into the streets. The Guerrilla and paramilitaries have always been far away in the mountains in certain parts, and only made hammock when the Ejercito and Military tried to capture them, at those times Campesinos came in danger because of mines, battle and theft of food. 

Of course there is a lot more going on, I still learn every day about motives and reasons, it's not a simple problem that has been happening for so many years.

Another myth is of course the abundance of Coke. It's a given fact that Colombia is the world's largest producer of cocaine, controlling 80% to 90% of the global market. And I won't lie that it's easy to get and very cheap (for $15 you can be good for one night). But hardly anybody uses. Only in Cartagena are the streets full with offers from every corner. In the last six weeks travel I have not had any inclinations about it from any family, friend, street person or dans partner in the disco. 

Marihuana on the other hand, is dead cheap (for less then a dollar you can roll two nice joints), good and in use with many. It also seems to be not too illegal. It's oke to have 5 grams in your pocket and nothing will be asked when the police would walk by while you just hit the pipe. 

The fight against the cocaine trade has caused problems for the national parks who are safe grounds for the coca farmers. After they have been sprayed off their previous lands, the farmers just move deeper into the jungle of protected parks where strict environmental laws rule: a safe haven from which to work.

In my travels I have only met a gregarious, enthusiastic, open minded and hospitable people who are more then willing to embrace all you want to share. They love to know who you are, where you go, how they can help you and what they can teach you. It has taken all my efforts to struggle with a minimum of time through the open doors where people get attached to the new face in less then one night. My ankle is decorated with so many more friendship-bands, my handbag is heavy with other trinklets and my backpack contains more trades or gifts then I would like. Everybody wants to be a part of this life that walked into the door and I feel more then blessed with my personality, my improvement in Spanish and the road that seems to never end. 

Mompox is the town where I last wrote for this page. 

Just relaxing in the park after dismounting the motor on which I came, a town-guide found me, and although I did not get a tour with him he did guide me to Yair and his family (cause he had a garden for a tent) where eventually I got invited to sleep in the bed of one of the children. This happened most of the time. One of the kids would sleep with mum and/or dad and a total bed was given to me. Sometimes I would sleep with the child or with the mother (never with the father, hahaha).

Yair, Maria Teresa, Mirith and Luis Mario in traditional Mompox Rocking Chairs. 

It was luck that this family made Queso de Capa. A special cheese only here in Monpox. The first morning I followed and tasted the whole procedure. 

Mompox is a pueblo with casas blancas, lots of bikes, a specialty of making wood furniture (particularly rocking chairs which are renowned nationwide) and a simmering heat. 

The next stop was Bucaramanga. Aready in the bus I met my new host; when I explained that I would sleep at the bus station to wait for a bus the next morning (it would only be six hours), mother Carmen-Elena was called and I was invited by Fernando, 22, to stay with his family.

On arrival I met the whole family who were originally waiting for Fernando who had not been home in some weeks.

The first day we went shoe-hunting and ended in a bar where we played Mecha. A game where you throw a tejo (a heavy piece of led) in a tub with clay while trying to hit a little pouch with gunpowder so you provoke a bang. 

One lunch Fernando grilled the meat behind the house.

The shower/toilet is to left, the house straight in front and the kitchen to the right. 

In the street you can buy Hormigas Culonas (ants with big behinds). They are roasted and ready to eat. Nothing really special: crispy and a little dry.

Marcela, Fernando's sister, had a friend who takes people on a little parapente adventure. He made a nice price for me, and so I flew with free feet above Bucaramanga.

The fourth and last night in this big city Fernando and I went to the circus. It was nothing spectacular, but very entertaining, dogs playing football with a balloon, monkeys on bikes, tigers through fire-hoops and acrobatic stunts with fake almost-mistakes. Tutti-Frutti, the clown, was definably the best hit and made us laugh like crazy.

A typical desauno (lunch): Bandega Paisa.

Lunch is the biggest meal of the day and is eaten between 12 and 5pm.

With roads that finally showed mountains, green hills, farming country, colder temperatures and agriculture mixed with cows, I took a ride to Pamplona, still one of the most beautiful towns I've been to here in Colombia because of it's location in the verdant hills.

It only took some admiring of the jewelry made of seeds, stones and intricate knotting work of the artesanistas in the main plaza to find my new house. Those fellows lived in one house way up the slope and I was welcome to put my mattress and sleeping bag on their floor for a few nights.

With a group of youngsters I played Ultimate-frisbee for the first time in my life. It's a game I always wanted to try and indeed I loved it. The higher altitude made me short of breath real quick, and although the fresh air (maybe 12C) was cool at first, quickly we were sweating. 

One of the boys, Daniel, and his brother took me along afterwards for a quick spin up the hill to see the town lights by night.

One of the artesanistas, Alejandro, was merried with Melissa and they had a very tough and brave little daughter called Julieta. Here she shows one of the puppets her parents make.

Jhon-Hans, 17, was one of the friends who hang around with this group of artesanistas. He studies here in Pamplona but is originally from Arauca, a department nine hours to the East.

We walked around town one morning, looking for some adventure, which we found with new friends and a hippy-kind-of-house where the strange lady sold Guarapo, a homemade alcohol from fruits. It can be good, but for two dollars a soda bottle full you can't ask for much.  

The third day in this climate-changing town we took a long hike to Pamplonita, a smaller town in another valley. Normally it would take three hours to get there, but we had the pleasure of Melissa, who is seven months pregnant and two year old Julieta as our company. And so it became a truly enjoyable walk of six or seven hours. Starting in town.........

......... we walked into the gorgeous hills and I really enjoyed not being sweaty but cool and fresh. Julieta was incredible, she walked so much. To return to Pamplona we hitched a ride with a truck.

The only nasty thing of this day was a discovery the next morning. Juan-Carlos, a friend from Alejandro, only here for a few weeks visit from Bogata, had taken off with $150 and my I-pod. Both had been in my handbag in the room were we both slept. Nobody had thought this. When we called him the next morning he answered drunk that he was in the bus station. Probably he had partied all night with the money and was ready to take a bus back home with some good music. Let's hope he'll enjoy the music as much as I did.

Melissa on the stairs to the house.

So, when Jhon-Hans told me he was going back to Arauca for a two week holiday with his family, I asked what it was like over there. A department with nothing else then Savannah, new animals, he had a motor to go around, pink dolphins in the Rio Arauca, friends and lots of swimming. Mmmm, why not, lets take this nine hour bus and see what's there. Again mum was called just to inform (permission was not needed) and another trip began.

Jhon-Hans, his little brother and his mother.

It would become a week of crazy stuff. We walked between the lines of many possibilities, we laughed incredible much, I highly enjoyed Jhon-Hans' story-telling, I met some of his crazy crazy friends, they took me on the back of the 125kp scooters, drove way too loco, made high wheelies while I did not hold-on tight enough.........

Our 'day' started around 5pm, when the youngsters would start calling around, we would hang out, make wild plans and undertake some of them. So we climd the towns highest water tower to have great views of town all around.

Yes, it was funny. Because Jhon-Hans not helped his mum with carrying a water bottle, and he got pretty bold besides it, she locked him up inside and left. For once the bars were not only for thieves to get in, but also for naughty sons to get out. For three hours all friends stayed put and played Mancala. 

Another night we climd the fence of a pretty laguna to camp with three tents and six people. In the morning we had the guardian running down with the motor: 'O really, we can not camp here?'

With four on one scooter is the most normal thing you do. It scared the shit out of me.

Another laguna where we swam with cocodrilos. Yes, they are really there, as well as anacondas, but who cares.....

We also camped here. This time we made a fire, roasted marsh mellows and I showed my poi. 

With Jhon-Hans I also took a day trip to Venezuela, nothing much interesting or different, besides that it seemed a little more poor. It was exciting to cross the boarded though, because Jhon-Hans did not have the right papers. With tons of luck we had a military control who only had eye for my foreign passport and totally skipped the others in the bus.

The first night out, the day we arrived, the police took notice of me, and at two in the morning they came up when we were talking in the park and asked about my motives. Arauca is not a place for tourist, and really you can say that not more then five per year visit this place. So me being there was a little weird. Jhon-Hans had to go home with some ones scooter to get my passport, while I cheerfully kept talking about my travels.

In this town it is tradition to go to the pool on Sundays, so that's what we did...... never again. It was full.... with brown eyed, brown skinned, brown haired locals. I DEFINABLY felt different in bikini that day.

There was enough reason to stay one week in Arauca, and maybe more. My time with Jhon-Hans was extremely pleasurable and tranquil. I learned so much Spanish because of his patient character and the food his mum made was just delicious. 

But time ticks on and the moment came to move on. Of course we stretched this for another two days, but finally, after eight days, I took a bus into new events......