Paseando por el Cafetero and other Touristy adventures

This past weekend, I have been in el Cafetero, Colombia´s mountainous coffee-region, primarily for a run I was taking part in on Sunday. At the time of writing, I am actually trying to ascertain whether I will receive any prize money for a third-placed finish….fingers crossed. The run set off and finished in Pereira, the capital of el Eje Cafetero, and took in the surrounding mountains. Indeed, the first 12km felt like a continuous ascent until we reached around 2000m (we started at around 1300 or 1400m, not sea level!) in increasing heat. It did mean, however, that the views were stunning and that the last 15km was pretty much downhill – or at least flat – the whole way home.

Arriving in Santa Rosa de Cabal on Friday evening, after experiencing a delayed and windy journey from Medellín, I was able to take in the local thermal springs on Saturday. It was perfect preparation for Sunday´s race and ensured I turned up in Pereira relaxed and cleansed.

The rest of the past couple of weeks has been relaxed and I´ve had the chance to do things that I haven´t since arriving, like taking the cable car from Medellín to Parque Arví, an extensive nature park on the outskirts of the city. I did a distinctly average walking-tour of Medellín with Emanuel, a student from UCO, and I was also able to take in Medellín´s impressive alumbrados (Christmas Lights). Focusing on biodiversity as a theme, the lights on show in the city´s Parque Norte celebrated all of the flora and fauna that Colombia has to offer. Talking of lights, the 7^th of December also marked Día de las Velitas (Candles) in Rionegro, and all over Colombia. Celebrating the Immaculate Conception, households spill out onto the streets to show off their candle displays. The area of Porvenir was particularly impressive. Its narrow streets provide the perfect stage for the light displays, as all cars are forced to play second fiddle to the candles. Día de los Velitas also happens to coincide with Rionegro´s annual fiestas. This year, the main square staged 4 nights of live music, with a different genre each night. Andrés and I headed to the first night – salsa – with Colombia´s answer to Barry Manilow belting out some seemingly well-known hits…

I also checked out Rionegro´s Modern Art Museum again, as its currently hosting an exhibition displaying entries into the town´s 25th International Caricature Competition, which takes place at the end of November. The festival commemorates Ricardo Rendón through its promotion of current artists´work. Rendón was born and raised in Rionegro, before rising to fame (and making a lot of money) as Colombia´s foremost caricaturist, working for some of Colombia´s most important publications. Tragically, he committed suicide at the age of 37, but he had already received international acclaim for his work.

 

 

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Off to Santa Marta now for the rest of the week. Tomorrow, I start the Lost City trek, which traverses what I have been promised is a bug-ridden rainforest. I fly back to Rionegro on the 23^rd, before possibly heading to Calí for fiestas. My only hesitation at this point is putting myself back through another lengthy and inevitably-delayed Colombian bus ride.

Winding down for Xmas

I made it. Fourteen years after that fateful January day in the Pantanal, Brasil, I managed to successfully mount, navigate and dismount a horse. Back in 2005, when my horse saw home and decided to bolt, I ended up face down in a snake-infested swamp and was lucky to not suffer any longer-term injuries, aside from the mental scars. Thus when Mike´s fiancé, Paula, mentioned that we were going on a ´Cabalgata´ to celebrate Mike´s 32^nd birthday, my enthusiasm was somewhat muted. Cabalgatas are, I have learned, a very Colombian thing; a mixture of a wholesome outdoor pursuit with an excuse to get a bit merry during the day. Groups of friends rent horses for around three or four hours, ride out into the hills of Antioquia, stop halfway for some grub and then return, slightly half-cut if you´re not careful. Indeed, on our ride, the aguardiente kept flowing, as did the stunning vistas and typical ranchera music. For me, the experience was positive, largely thanks to my ´mansito´ horse who, to her credit, remained calm and mild-mannered despite being ridden by a clueless, aguardiente-swigging novice. Content to stay in first and second gear, she´s gone some way in helping me banish my fear of horse-riding. Andres´ horse was a whole different story; in fact, I think he may be giving up the English teaching next year to concentrate on becoming a cowboy. If I had been on his horse, pretty sure I wouldn´t be writing this blog today!

The group

The Cowboy with the two Kentish lads

Proof that I got on the horse

Proof that I stayed on the horses

Awesome views at the mid-way point

There has been excitement in Rionegro over the past few weeks, as its football team reached the semi-finals of the closing championship play-offs. Here in Colombia, the top eight teams inexplicably go into a play-off to decide the overall winner at the end of what has already been a long, hard-fought season. Despite finishing seventh – an achievement in itself for a team that does not charge fans for entry and which has a fraction of the resources of its rich Medellín neighbours – Rionegro Aguilas had a chance of winning the closing season. After progressing against Once Caldas, winning me a cool 25 grand (pesos, sadly) in the process, Rionegro just came up short against Junior, of Baranquilla. As the cliché goes, they left themselves with too much to do as a valiant 1-1 draw in Baranquilla was not enough to overturn the 3-2 defeat they suffered at home. Still, qualification for the Copa Sudamericana will mean some tasty away trips next season….

I missed both play-off home games, the first through illness and the second due to the fact that I went to see ´Bohemian Rhapsody´ and had to travel all the way to Medellín to watch it in original version. Why more cinemas don´t show original version films here is beyond me, especially when Rionegro is currently promoting its ´Rionegro Bilingue´ programme! I´m glad I made the effort, though, and I´m quite glad I hadn’t read all the mixed reviews I have heard it´s been getting at home. I thought it was excellent, however many truths may have been dramatized, exaggerated or ignored; that´s cinema and the artistic license it affords. For me, the film still portrayed the intended message and paid homage to a truly great artist and fascinating individual. It even moved my Colombian friend to tears….that´s not saying much, though.

´Christmas´ has now also begun in Rionegro. The lights are up, and were turned on as soon as December arrived, and things have wound down even more so than they would have done in the UK. I have hardly had any classes for two weeks, with the students now gone for what is their long holiday (they return in early February). Sara and I have run Immersion Days for English Teachers and UCO employees but the contact time is now limited. Instead, I´ll be spending the next week making educational videos with my lovely British accent. Plans are also afoot for my seven week holiday, which starts this Friday….January is taken care of, with visits from Matthew, Jon and George over three weeks and trips to el Cafetero and Sapzurro in the diary.  December is still a bit in the air but doing something semi-productive, while allowing myself enough time to enjoy an authentically Colombian Christmas, is the priority.

Hasta la próxima…..

Catching Shingles and Visiting Bog

The last couple of weeks have been quiet, largely owing to the fact that I managed to contract Shingles. What I first thought was a mosquito bite on my head soon turned into a really attractive full-blown rash over one side of my face and a persistent, dull ache in my left eye. However, although I was dreading it and tried put it off, my first visit to a Colombian hospital was surprisingly easy. I was seen to within minutes and my diagnosis and prescription was complete within ten. My doctor´s bedside manner could arguably use some work – confirming my diagnosis with a range of grizzly google images is probably not in the Hippocratic Oath, I´m guessing – but his efficiency was second-to-none. I haven´t really been ill as such but I have noticed a severe drop in my energy levels and although I haven’t missed class, I haven’t exercised for three weeks (almost unheard of) and barely touched beer for two (also unheard of).

Away from illness, one highlight of the past two and a bit weeks has to be seeing Atlético Nacional lifting La Copa Aguila in Medellín with El Jefe, Andrés. Even though it took us nearly an hour to get into the stadium (classic Colombian organisation), causing us to miss most of the first half, we saw all three goals, the first of which arrived as we took our seats. Once Caldas piled on the pressure in the second half and got an equaliser but, as the game looked as it was headed into extra-time meaning a frantic rush for us to catch the last bus back to Rionegro, Nacional clinched the (controversial) winner, via a free-kick. Indeed, although ´saved´ by the Caldas goalkeeper, the ball was adjudged to have crossed the line and thus Nacional´s fourth Copa, and a place in next season´s Copa Libertadores (South America´s Champions´ League), was secured. Cue wild celebrations and a sportsmanlike attempted assault on the referee by the Caldas ´keeper. If only they had invested in goal-line technology…..

I also made it to Bogotá last weekend, my first trip outside of Antioquia since arriving. Although I don´t think I´d like to live in Colombia´s capital, it being too similar to London in terms of sheer size and frenetic pace, it did look to have a lot going for it, certainly for a weekend tourist like me. I stayed in El Chapinero, a bohemian area full of students, restaurants, bars and the odd yoga studio and, despite it predictably having its fair share of tourists, it didn’t appear to be as saturated as El Poblado in Medellín, for example, where the common language seems to be English. The city tour I did on Sunday, was excellent, too. The free tour took in the cobbled streets of La Candelaria – the oldest part of Bogotá – famous for its chica-selling cafes and impressive graffiti murals, Plaza Bolívar, home of Colombia´s Congress and Courts of Justice and the Botero Museum, where our guide, Hector, explained that Botero did not just paint fat people; he played with proportions. On Saturday, I took in Guatavita, from where the Spanish legend of El Dorado originates. As our city tour guide subsequently explained on Sunday, indigenous tribes had thrown gold offerings into Lago Guatavita as an offering to Mother Earth. When the Spanish conquistadores got wind of this, they obviously wanted a piece and they proceeded to cut through one side of the mountain in order to drain the water and extract the gold, which they then melted down and sent back to Europe. To give some idea of the magnitude of riches found by the Spanish; the Gold Museum in Bogotá houses around 55,000 pieces of gold taken from the area, which were not seized by the Spanish. However, this represents only 2% of the gold that was originally deposited in the lake.* Despite not being able to offer gold to today´s visitors, and the long journey to get there, Guatavita is still well-worth a visit.

Returning to Medellín on the overnight bus, I managed to coincide with, and finally meet, Josh and his girlfriend, Cami. Josh, a friend of my brother Matthew, had done the British Council programme in Bucuramanga and ended up staying for two years. Prior to my arrival back in July, Josh had already given me the lowdown on Colombia and the British Council. This time, he gave me Custard Creams and Bourbons, an equally valuable resource.

*my source was my tour guide. Thus, I accept no responsibility for any inaccuracy. Basically, there was a s***load of gold in the lake.

Above the clouds, on the return home to Antioquia

Nights in with Harry Styles

New blog post, check. New hobby, check. I am now the proud owner of a piano, in another attempt to resurrect/develop that creative streak within. As is so typical of Antioqueñan hospitality, my lovely Spanish teacher, Sandra, and her husband lent me the piano after I told them I had enrolled in classes with a fellow teacher who, it turns out, does have a musical background and picks things up rather quickly. Not wanting to be left behind, since acquiring aforementioned piano, I have spent many an evening ´juiciosamente´ trying to replicate the musical genius of Harry Styles´ ´Sign of the Times.´ Who´d have thought…..

The last two weeks has also seen two of the most important events in the university´s calendar – English Language Teachers´ Conference and UCO Fest. The former, which I co-hosted with a teacher from the Centre of Languages, did what it said on the tin. The latter was a more informal celebration of the various cultures that accompany all the languages that la UCO offer. Indeed, although the featured language and culture this year was Portuguese – cue Salsa classes and fado murals – there were stalls running activities in French, German, English, Latin, as well as selling products associated with their respective cultures. The turnout was impressive; not only amongst students, but from the wider community too. For our part, Sara and I ran a little stall which demonstrated the difference between American and the Queen´s English (pics below), which was awesome/quality…..depending on which one of us you ask.

I have seen a little more of Rionegro, too. My two student friends, Juanita and Emanuel, took me to the Casa de Convención on our day off. Although the museum is affected by the nearby construction, seemingly like everywhere in Rionegro, and therefore has a slightly reduced collection, it remains an enchanting place to visit. Aside from being an important architectural structure which contains artefacts up to 500 years old and portraits of various central figures from Colombia´s past, it also houses the table at which Colombia´s first national Constitution was signed, in 1863, and a copy of the document itself. We had a personal guided tour of the museum from local lawyer and history enthusiast, Francisco, before retiring to Rionegro´s famous Los Lagos (The Lakes), which should really be called ´El Lago.´ Pues nada….

Us with Francisco

This past weekend, I was in El Poblado, Medellín, once more to meet the sister of a friend I made on el Camino, Caroline. Julia, Caroline´s older sister, is spending a couple of months travelling around all parts of Colombia and although I was the supposed ´local,´ my dearth of Medellín knowledge and her wealth of experiences in just 10 days in Colombia made it look the very opposite. Either way, we took advantage of ´happy hour´ and I joined her and her friends for what now seems like an expensive dinner (about  $12), before I literally had to run for the last bus back to Rionegro. Luckily, after the marathon, I know how to run these streets…..

Meanwhile, Julia´s trip continues, and I return to my Antioqueñan Paradise.

Showing off Antioquia

The Guided became Guide this weekend, as I welcomed my first visitor to Rionegro. Emma, a fellow British Council Language Assistant, came from Bogotá to experience the delights of Antioquia and I revelled in sharing my love for Rionegro. We drank rum and Michaeladas in a Frida Kahlo-themed bar in San Antonio, listened to various performances celebrating youth creativity in the area, in the square next to Teatro Inmigrantes, and ate at a superb vegetarian restaurant to which I will be returning.

I also visted Guatape and Peñol for the first, with my northern companion, both of which were breath-taking. The walk up to La Piedra de Peñol, a 70 million year old rock formation, is challenging but well manageable, especially with the promise of ice-cold Michaeladas at either end. The view from the 200 metre high summit also allows one to fully appreciate the vast scale of Guatape´s hydroelectric complex, built in the 1970s to become one of Colombia´s primary energy-producing centres. Well-oiled and aching, we descended and caught one of the many (over-priced) tuk-tuks to the centre of Guatape. I was expecting a Gap-Yah paradise, full of Tillies and Charlies ´doing Colombia.´ However, I was pleasantly surprised. Yes, Guatape is touristy and is undoubtedly more polished than many other Antioquian towns of a similar size, as a result. Yet, its shiny exterior has not come at the expense of inauthenticity, at least for the time being, and there seemed to be a core local population which easily outnumbered the gringos. The cobbled streets and multi-coloured houses provided a perfect background for a chilled afternoon of sipping coffee and general meandering. So enamoured were we with the town that we almost cancelled our Medellín reservation for that night and stayed in Guatape.

Views from the top of La Piedra

What lay ahead

Hydration was paramount

Coffee Demonstration

The streets of Guatape

The night out in El Poblado, Medellín´s traveller district was heavier than expected (5.30 finish), largely due to the fact that we bumped into another couple of Language Assistants who had come from Baranquilla to spend the holiday weekend, but good fun. It made for a chilled Sunday, prior to Emma´s departure.

Since the last update, I have also spent a night in Santa Fe de Antioquia, Antioquia´s capital until Medellín took its place in 1826. One and a half hours along a less-than-perfect road from Medellín (after one hour from Rionegro), Santa Fe is a bit of a trek. Nevertheless, it´s the perfect location for a lazy Sunday afternoon. As with Guatape, it is polished, owing to its popularity with tourists, but not too much. Its museum houses the table at which the Antioquian Independence Declaration was signed in 1813 and the town is surrounded on all sides by beautiful scenery. With only 24 hours there, I did not have time to visit a lot of the sights, including the Puente de Oriente, which links the municipalities of Santa Fe and Olaya and which was the world´s seventh (ok, not that impressive) biggest suspension bridge when it was built (1887), but I know enough to justify a return when more visitors arrive.

Santa Fe´s Cathedral

Independence Table

El Parque

Any update wouldn´t be complete without the mention of a newly-discovered hiking route. Much of what I like so far about Medellín is its geographical setting, nestled in a valley, which provides spectacular views as you enter and leave the metropolis. One can the climb the surrounding hills and mountains, walking the numerous trails which lead directly from the city. One of these hills is Cerro de los Tres Cruces. A half-hour sharp and unforgiving incline is well-compensated by the views afforded at the top (see below).

 

El Maratón, Salsa and Granada´s Example

Since the last update, I have completed marathon number 17 (14 marathons, 3 ultras, really), hiked some more, become an accomplished Salsa dancer* and visited Granada, a nearby town that still bears the scars from Colombia´s devastating internal struggles.

To start with the marathon: firstly, it was the earliest race I´ve ever run and also the first one I´ve very nearly missed. I had told my ´fans´ that the race was to begin at 8.30, only to discover at the Expo that it was actually a 6.30 start. Needless to say, none of my ´fans´ were hard-core enough for such an early start and, to be honest, I thought twice! Not many Medellinenses made it out onto the streets either, which made it a long (and wet) 3 hours and 39 minutes. I finished, however, and the early start did mean I had plenty time to return to Rionegro and celebrate with some Pilsens, with Mike and the family.

The Medal

The Real Prize

I have been taken out on more hikes, too. One of my students took me to a spot called Cimarrones, half-way between Rionegro and Marinilla (my previous spelling and subsequent pronounciation was incorrect, I learned this week), and which overlooks the former. Another student took me on a hike up into the hills above El Carmen, a town famous for its ceramics. This hike was topped off with a homemade lunch of beans, chicharrón, potatoes and fresh pineapple juice, which I enjoyed with him and his family.

On the way to Cimarrones

Looking down on El Carmen

My visit to Granada deserves the biggest mention, however. My colleague and flatmate, Sara, has been volunteering for a Foundation called ´Granada es Nuestra´ (Granada is Ours) in Granada for a number of months now, having also done some work there last summer. With time on my hands, I have wanted to get involved in some local projects and this particular organisation represents the perfect opportunity. Granada, located about an hour by bus from Rionegro, was ripped apart by Colombia´s various internal conflicts, owing to its strategically favourable position as a gateway to other towns and villages in the region. The FARC and paramilitaries fought over the town from the start of the 1980s until around 2007, with thousands of civilians disappearing or being killed in the process. Now, the community is rebuilding: last year, leading members of the FARC returned to Granada to ask for forgiveness and my visit coincided with the year anniversary of this symbolic act. We attended part of a forum to mark the anniversary, the slogan of which read ´Perdonar lo imperdonable´ (Forgive the Unforgivable). In a community so scarred by the violence, the prevailing message is ´forgive and move on together.´ ´Granada es Nuestra´ aims to facilitate this process and I hope to join Sara soon in giving English classes or even trying to translate some of the material from the Memorial Centre, so that Granada´s story and, more importantly its example, can be heard more widely. Rarely have I seen first-hand what an impact History (with a big ´H´) can have and how recounting events from the past can educate and help us overcome past struggles, together.

A poignant day was finished off with a visit to one of the group leader´s fincas, in the hills above Granada. Rubiela had given us a comprehensive tour of Granada and her finca was the perfect location from which to reflect on what we had heard and seen, and to meet another of the project´s leaders, Jaque. I hope to get to know both them and Granada better over the coming months.

Colombia continues to be kind to me. The español is ticking along, as is the salsa, which I am loving. I haven´t been let loose on a public dance floor yet…..but it won´t be too long 😉

*this blog is prone to slight manipulation of the truth

 

New pad, new pets, new hobbies

Since April, I have become quite accustomed to making a home wherever I lay my hat (any one of my numerous hats). However, I hope that my latest move (last Saturday) will prove to be my last….at least until next June. I was happy staying in Elisabeth´s house with her and her son, Juan Pablo. Yet, as she herself made clear from day one, she had ´rules.´ Thus, it was time to fly the nest…..

I am now living with four females (2 of them cats), at the bottom of the famous and unforgiving ´falda,´ which leads up to the main university entrance. My room is like an oven but the company is good; I live with Sara, my Fullbright colleague, and Hajla, an Estonian who speaks and teaches half of Europe´s languages, it seems. I am even uncovering an affection for cats, which I never thought possible after my experiences with our former neighbour´s cats, who liked to leave ´little gifts´ all over our back garden.

I finally made it to Maranilla last weekend. Various students have been flying its flag for the past couple of weeks; “es que, es mucho más cultural que Rionegro.” True enough, it is more cultural, and cooler, than my ´hometown.´ I went to see a play with a teacher from la UCO, in a theatre that wouldn´t have looked out of place in Peckham and Shoreditch; full of beards, chairs made from crates and (relatively) over-priced coffee cocktails. I felt at home. The play, ´Citas a Ciegas´(´Blind Dates´) was excellent and, thankfully, easy to understand, due to the superb acting as much as the simple dialogue and my adept comprehension. I even got the jokes.

I have also met a Colombian footballing hero, in the form of Tino Asprilla. Andrés (of first blog post fame), Sara and I had been to see Atletico Nacional crash out of La Copa Libertadores against Argentinian side Tucumán, and we were chatting to friends outside the stadium when the big man appeared. A previously forlorn Andrés sprang into life, beckoning Tino over to have a photo with me….and a bunch of others, it turned out, as fans piled in from all angles to record their magic moment. Although the atmosphere inside the stadium was again electric, Nacional´s exit meant that meeting Asprilla was the highlight of the night for me.

This past Wednesday, Sara and I also attended Salsa classes in Rionegro. At around 3 quid a pop, classes are very reasonable, although I suspect prices may rise when they discover the work that their latest student needs. ´Listen to the music,´ was our instructor´s mantra, which I had taken as a given anyway, to be honest. ´Sin pausa´ (´don´t pause´), she repeated again and again. I didn´t think I was! Anyway, I will continue with the classes; even if I don´t reach the ´not-too-embarrassed-to-salsa-in-public´ stage, I enjoyed the first class and it does give me a good, wholesome mid-week activity, which doesn´t involve Pilsen. And, since I only have one weekend to go until the Medellín Marathon, Pilsen should be off the menu.

This weekend, my intention was to have a tranquilo couple of days and while it´s been far from crazy, it wouldn´t have been complete without a few coerced aguardientes with Don Fabio and Miriam, in front of the football.  This time, it was la selección de Colombia. Scoring in the last minute to secure a 2-1 victory over Venezuela, Yimmi Chará dashed mine and Mike´s betting hopes for the evening. Oh well, there´s always another game….

Over the past couple of weeks, I have also got to know Rionegro even better. There is building work everywhere you look at the moment, as the town continues to modernise. One of my students took me to the new Art Museum last Wednesday and, although not officially open yet, it does have a temporary exhibition which focuses on all the new renovation and construction projects taking place. Rionegro will soon have its own Light Rail, for example.  Given that it is home to Medellín Airport – the second largest in Colombia -, Rionegro´s infrastructure is, indeed, in urgent need of development. However, as well as the urban side of Rionegro, I have also got to know some of the greener parts of the region, going on a hike around ´Ojo de Agua.´ I am still unsure as to what the ´Eye of the Water´ actually is but the walk was pleasant and the views over the surrounding Antioquian towns and countryside were stunning.

Dos Semanas Más….

Another fortnight passed, another flower parade, an Empanada Festival and a weekend spent alongside what are, apparently, the world´s most beautiful ´charcos´ (literally meaning puddles*), in the world. Such is life in Antioquia.

Weekends now always begin with a conversation class at la UCO. Although I am interesting, for my novelty factor above all else, I am still flattered that around 15 students have come to each of my first three conversation classes, which start at 8am on Saturday mornings. Yep, my students get up at the crack of dawn at the weekend to come and converse with me! Although I cursed having to teach on a Saturday morning when I was first given my timetable, this class really has begun to represent a lively and entertaining start to the weekend.

Last weekend´s flower parade in nearby La Ceja, which also included an extensive classic car procession, was, in some ways, even more impressive than Medellín´s headliner a week before, merely due to La Ceja´s size compared to the Antioquian capital. Kicking off at 2pm, the parade didn´t reach me, sitting on a stretch just off the main square, until just before 3. Now well familiar with the sight of a silletero, I spotted the artists´ blooms hundreds of metres away and, as they passed – many on bikes – alongside more dancing troupes and brass bands, what struck me was the celebration of diversity on show. The mixture of ages, abilities, creed and colour, performing as one, was warming to see.

Not to be outdone, Rionegro also threw its own party last weekend, with the trusty empanada forming the centrepiece of its three day celebration. Prior to the festival, many of my students had asked me if I had ever had an empanada. I thus felt obliged to give them all an article detailing the origins of the Cornish Pasty, which date back to the thirteenth century. So yes, I had tried an empanada before, albeit baked rather than fried! Nevertheless, the sheer range of empanadas on show in Parque San Antonio – Rionegro´s undisputed champion of nightlife – was something to behold. Even dogs were not left out, with a stand especially devoted to canine customers.

This weekend was another memorable one, spent in another beautiful part of Antioquia. San Rafael had been, until around fifteen years ago, badly affected by the Civil War in Colombia and was a dangerous place to enter. As is often the case, the cooling of hostilities and the signing of a peace treaty, which has recently resurfaced as a controversial matter of debate here, opened the door to tourism and revealed the region´s beauty. And so it came to be that my adopted Colombian family, including the aforementioned grandmother who drank me under the table, invited me to spend twenty four hours in their house in the hills above San Rafael.

Mike, my link to the family, came to Rionegro nine years ago and ended up staying. He, his fiancé, Paula, their lovely daughter Antonella, and Paula´s parents have been central figures in most of my weekends so far and have helped make me feel well at home here. Watching football with Mike and Don Fabio, swimming in the ´charcos´ with Mike, Paula and Antonella, and being waited on hand and foot by Miriam, in a truly stunning setting, made for a dreamy twenty four hours. Fishing a (dead) tarantula out of the washing machine was indeed an initiation well worth enduring for the prize on offer.

The weekend was topped off with a Sunday evening visit to what is now my favourite nearby town. Forty five minutes bus ride from Rionegro, El Retiro, with its cobbled streets and bustling town square complete with obligatory, imposing Church building, was the perfect place to overcome another rum-induced hangover (marathon training is going well) and prepare for the coming week with a café con leche.

Some top weekends, coupled with my new official status (I finally have my foreign ID card and bank account!), mean that things are ticking along very nicely indeed. A month in and, although the adventure has already begun, it is really starting to gather pace now….

*Used in this context to describe the pools of crystal clear water dotted along the Río Guatape, popular for swimming.

Me Voy Para Medellín

As promised/threatened, there´s more….my weekend in Medellín certainly warrants another post. I was in the ´City of Eternal Spring´ to see the closing parade of the 61^st Fería de las Flores, an annual celebration of the flower cultivation which carpets the hills of nearby Santa Elena. What a spectacle it proved to be. Choosing to watch the parade over participating in the La Ceja Half Marathon was, in the cold light or, more accurately, stifling heat of day, never going to be a decision I was going to regret.

Arriving early Sunday morning and positioning myself close to the start of the parade route, I was befriended by a local within minutes. I was to spend the next five hours chatting to this ebullient sixty-something Colombian lady and her slightly more reserved daughter. In exchange for answering her questions – can you travel from London to Madrid by metro? Have you got a Colombian girlfriend? (in three weeks? Give me a chance, love!) – she plied me with biscuits and used her umbrella to shield my ´blanquito´ skin from the unforgiving midday sun.

Two Pilsens, countless biscuits and a characteristically bit of ´Brit-abroad´ sunburn later, it was time for the parade to begin. It was truly the most impressive parade I have ever seen, not just for the artistic brilliance of the hundreds of silleteros, old and young, but also for the sheer resilience of these craftsmen, some of whom were well into their 80s. In the searing heat, 510 silleteros carried flower displays weighing anything from 50 to 120kg a total distance of 1.4 miles. Any words written here simply cannot do the silleteros justice. Please just see below. In between flower displays from entries in varying categories, we were also treated to performances from numerous dance groups, bands and other costumed entertainers. The seemingly hugely popular mayor also paid a visit to greet the crowd and join in the festivities. Thus, although the flowers quite rightly took centre stage, the parade also represented a chance for locals and tourists to revel in all things Medellín.

Part 2 of my day showcased another one of the city´s institutions, in the form of Atletico Nacional, Colombia´s most famous football team. Despite the match being a ´clasico,´ against Millionarios from Bogotá, the football itself was average, at best. The ´show,´ as a whole, on the other hand, was something else. Accompanying Diego, my landlady´s son, and his friends, I was led to where the hardcore ´sit.´ The South Stand had already begun to warm up for what was to be  the most carefully choreographed display of terrace support I have ever seen. Nigh on 200 musicians passed through the upper tier moments before kick-off and were relentless in belting out fans´ favourites throughout the match, whilst the most daring ´hinchas´ perched precariously on the ledge overlooking an equally partisan following below. The chants started innocently enough before the Atletico fans began referencing the ´hijos de puta´ in blue, from Bogota, and the other ´boys in blue,´ who they quite like to fight, apparently. A forgettable match ended 1-1, with Millionarios equalising moments from the end. “The coach will be gone soon,” Diego assured me as we exited the stadium. Once the crowd have made their mind up, there´s no going back. With such a passionate and powerful demonstration of support for their team, it is easy to see why.

 

Rionegro, Te quiero

Three weeks down, sitting in the bedroom of my Antioquian homestay, a mere forty-five minute bus ride through the mountains from Medellín, those mid-morning, over-priced, pre-flight whiskies at Heathrow seem a world away….

In reality, the Rionegro experience is only just over a fortnight young – I spent the first week in a Bogotan hotel taking part in British Council induction activities – but what a fortnight it has been.

For one, the welcome at UCO (Universidad Católica de Oriente), the University at which I and an American Fullbrighter, Sara, are teaching, has been truly memorable. Although everybody in the Language Centre is a dream, Head of the Welcome Party has been Andrés Bodoya, an English Teacher at UCO and our ´go-to´ man for the year. ´Message me any time´ were Andres´ exact words on day one and I have gladly accepted the challenge. Whatever the time of day, or issue at hand – Colombian SIM card procurement, lesson planning or resolving in which part of the stadium Atletico Nacional Ultras actually sit (they never sit, it turns out) – Andrés has always replied within minutes with the kind of local knowledge that a Mastercard simply cannot buy. My landlady, Elisabeth, has of course also had a starring role in my first few weeks. Despite having to employ my best guesswork at times to decipher her Paisa code and regularly coming unstuck – choosing to nod and agree when it´s clear from her resultant confused expression that simple affirmation will not suffice – the warmth she emits transcends linguistic boundaries and cannot be misunderstood. At times, I have felt like her adopted English son. Lucky lady.

Students, too, have welcomed us with open arms. The Facebook friend requests have been rolling in. Early indications suggest I may double or even treble my ´friend´ tally for the year (I´ll keep you updated). Some have offered Spanish classes or intercambios, while others have invited me for dinner or sought to bend my ear about Premiership football, which I have obviously relished. The students´ thirst to find out more about us and our cultures, coupled with their desire to make us feel amañado at UCO and in Rionegro generally, has helped me settle quickly, in what I now consider to be ´home,´ at least for the next ten months. Indeed, although I am sure living in Medellín would have been muy chévere, I am so glad to be in Rionegro, a little less overwhelming and much more tranquilo than the big city.

As with any new cultural experience, there has been a strangeness factor, which has been exciting, at times frustrating, but often humorous. Being invited to down shots of rum while doing a milk run at the local convenience store beats getting 100 Nectar Points hands down, while being breathalysed before attempting to board a log flume was another novel, if less enriching, experience. Not being allowed to ride the flume has obviously served to merely heighten my anticipation for next time. I´ve learnt that the ´tinto´ here doesn´t accompany steak quite so well as it does in Spain, ´tinto´ meaning black coffee in Colombia, as opposed to red wine; and that you really do have to jump for the buses that continuously leave for Medellín, with conventional bus stops yet to arrive on these shores. Shopping in the local Centro Comercial has at times been stressful, too. I am accustomed to shopping in a silence punctuated only by the occasional grunt from shopping assistants. Here, not so. “Buen pueda,” “a la orden,” “como le ayudo?” And me, “nada,” “estoy mirando, gracias,” *mutters* “leave me alone.” “No you can´t bloody ´ayudame.´” My grumpiness in the face of such attentive service probably says more about my Britishness rather than any fault of theirs and besides, if the price of such warmth from the locals is a little harassment from shop assistants, I can certainly live with that.

There is so much more to mention – the fresh papaya, the arepas, the stunning vistas from my street, being drunk under the table by a Colombian grandmother, the beautiful people etc – but I´ll leave it there for now. Although this little intro merely scratches the surface of the rich experiences I´ve enjoyed so far, it hopefully gives a little insight into my new Antioquian life.

And the only way to finish? As any true Paisa would end a sentence….´pues.´