Cartagena by Day

January 11th

Unlike the crowded, bustling night life, by day, Cartagena sizzles, and not in a good way.  It is hot and humid!  Due to our late night carousing, we are often out in that heat just as it peaks!   A typical day begins with us applying the cologne of the day, “Toilette de Off”, to keep the mosquitos from attacking us when we leave the safety of our room.  I have discovered that there is a dense jungle- like forest next to our hotel that is no doubt their breeding ground.  We have our breakfast in a little dining area near the pool (open to the jungle), and here is where we are often attacked.  We only seem to be bothered by these tiny elements of torture here at our hotel.  As much as I would like to spend time on our balcony and open the room to the cool night air, I don’t dare. The vampires live out there!

Wednesday, in the midday heat (of course), we took another tour bus packed to the rafters with tourists.  We were the last to squeeze on and had to sit in different rows.  I was lucky enough to sit with three beautiful and sweet young ladies who happened to be from a place near Bogota.  They spoke a little English and were unusually polite, inquisitive and conversational for their young ages. Immediately they welcomed me, asked my name, introduced themselves, and tried to keep me engaged in conversation.  Even though we didn’t speak the same language, they were able to bridge that gap and helped me understand their questions.  The ten year old asked questions typical of a child her age who would engage someone else. She asked things like how old I was, when my birthday was, and so forth.  Then, when we stopped to see certain sites, she followed me around.  Their father wanted me to pose with them for several pictures and I complimented him on his wonderful daughters.  We exchanged e-mail information, and the ten year old asked if I’d become Facebook friends.  Young or old, we are finding that Columbians are wonderful people. 

Another crazy thing we do in the heat is walk the narrow streets next to buildings that absorb the heat that radiates back into our path. But the shops are compelling and it is interesting to see the typical Columbian products sold here.  Many of the stores sell Mochila bags made of natural fiber wool or more recently, heavy colorful cotton thread woven into beautiful designs. I read that these are made by a dwindling population of Columbian Wayuu Indian tribes found mostly in La Guajira. These bags are worn by both sexes and take one woman 60-100 hours or more to make. Due to their scarcity and growing world-wide popularity, the prices are quite high. Depending upon the design, fiber used, and size, they range in price between forty-five dollars to several hundreds of dollars.  I am forever searching for just the right size, color and reasonable price range.  Needless to say I am still searching! 

Another Columbian commodity is an emerald that is found here. Many stores sell this beautiful gem. For safety reasons, I was cautioned to leave my rings at home. But we feel very safe in our walled enclosure, and a simple, inexpensive silver ring caught my eye and begged to be worn on my empty finger.  Since our suitcases are small and filled to the brim, we are limited in the number of things we can comfortably carry home.  In Panama, I picked up a few colorful Molas made by the Kuna Indians of the San Blas Islands.  These cloth pictures are made by layering many different colored cloth pieces, which are then sewn to represent Aztec designs or pictures of indigenous animals, birds or fish. I hope to make pillow covers with mine. I am waiting for Bogota to select a Mochila.  I feel that it is important to support the local culture by purchasing things that will remind me of the places we’ve been. If you Google these items you will see why I wish I could bring more of these Mochila’s and Molas home.

We are becoming more comfortable trying the Columbian street food and so far our digestive system is fine. We have discovered that there are many ways to cook plantains. The ones here are bland and starchy tasting, and we don’t like them that much. Corn meal is used to make delicious fried empanadas that are stuffed with various fillings. Several fruit carts sell fresh, ripe fruit. There are many small bakeries selling flakey pastries filled with melted cheese and ham or other fillings. They are simply delicious.  On every street there are several restaurants that sell pizza, ceviche, or tasty fish dishes. Rice and beans are always served on the side.  Last night we ate in a small cafeteria inside a large grocery store. We have even had a few mid-day picnics in the middle of our bed with food we bought at the grocery store-- a way to escape the afternoon heat.

Today we found the best way to escape the heat of the day is to go to a beach on a nearby island called Baru. It is a 45 minute speedboat ride away and well worth the trip. Along the way Michael couldn’t keep his eyes off eight of the most beautiful 25-26 year old Argentinean beauties who sat with us.  They were all former school classmates who have kept in touch by meeting weekly and going on trips together. They gave us a lot of pointers for what to see and do in Argentina. This was their third trip the island, so they suggested we join them on the beach away from the crowds. 

The beach, Playa Blanca, is aptly named with beautiful white sand the consistency of flour. The water is a beautiful green-blue with the most perfect, refreshing temperature! However, the downside of being in paradise is fending off a constant parade of vendors who bug you to buy something in 3-4 minute intervals. But in the water, they leave you alone!  Included in the trip is a typical Columbian fried fish lunch, which Michael loved so much he cleaned it to the bone! Every day by 4 pm the wind picks up around here.  It is a wonderful relief if you are in the city, but get in a speedboat and endure the 45 minutes of terror as the boat literally flies back over the waves--not fun!  After one 3-4 second launch into the air and pounding return to the sea, a fellow passenger looked around and asked: “Are all the babies still here?” I worried that with the abuse the boat was taking, it might break in half.  The girls from Argentina were used to the ride and egged the driver on by putting their hands in the air as if going down the slope of a rollercoaster!  This was a white knuckle experience for me and not one I would ever like to repeat!  Michael, on the other hand, can’t wait to get to Argentina!!