Colombia

The flights to Toronto and then on to Winnipeg were uneventful. Tim met us at the airport and we were home by 8:30 p.m.

Here’s a list of things we will and will not miss about Colombia:

Rudy’s list:

What I will miss/not miss about the Colombia trip:

Not miss:

• Putting used toilet paper into a small stinky waste basket
• Tiny bathrooms where I have to pull down my pants BEFORE entering because it’s just too small to do that once you’re in.
• ‘Mountain view’ location where you can just barely make out the mountain silhouette between a wall-to-wall view of super-high-rise hotels and apartments.
• No hot water, only ‘lukecold’ showers
• No kettle for making tea
• A drawer full of used and abused knives, none of which can slice a bun
• Severely worn-out beds and terrible pillows
• Incredible heat starting at 9:00am and lasting until the evening shadows make it uncomfortable, if not necessarily unsafe, to go out.
• No dish towels, no dish detergent, no hand towels, no microwave, no floor rug next to the bed
• No salt & pepper & sugar, no tee towels, no garbage bags
• One key for two people, so if one person leaves the other is obliged to stay in, keys that need to be inserted into the wall slot so that the lights and A/C  go on — saves energy but because you need to take the key with you when you leave, when you get back the apartment it will for sure be HOT!
• TVs that only have Spanish language channels, 
• no light switch next to the bed, no outlets in convenient locations to recharge your phones
• Hauling gallon containers of drinking and tooth-brushing water a few blocks and up a few flights of stairs
• ATMs that charge huge fees, limit the withdrawal amount, and want to charge you their own inflated exchange rates. 
• Terrible sidewalks, if any
• Cars, taxis, and buses that drive through intersections and too close to  pedestrians
• Restaurant margaritas that taste like water with a bit of tequila 
• Line-ups everywhere. (Grocery stores, ATMs, ice cream shops, etc — and move VERY slowly)

Miss (most of this list applies to Medellin, our favourite city):

• Lovely restaurants nearby, with great breakfasts and fine dinners
• Colombian coffee, especially the cappuccinos
• Fresh pineapples
• Interesting fruit juices
• Good (and very cheap) beers
• Clean sidewalks 
• Clean streets 
• Beautiful parks, some just outside our door
• River walks
• Surprisingly beautiful malls
• Waking up to birds, motorcycles roaring by, an occasional huge jet flying right over our place, the tsk, tsk, tsk, of the men raking the leaves in the park just outside our window
• Tostadas Francesas and a cappuccino every morning — at Proyecto Café
• A kitchen counter and dining room table full of books, art paper, brushes and paints, pencil crayons, coloured markers, a couple of drinking glasses with dirty paint brushes in them, a mug of cold tea
• No sweater or jacket or socks and shoes needed — ever, no matter the time of day or night
• No thermostat needed — day or night — never cold, never hot
• “Airplaying” Winnipeg Jets hockey games to big tv on the wall (not just in medellin, other places too)
• Watching the Jets games and 2 seasons of Severance with Naomi
• Homemade nachos and margaritas in the afternoons
• Hearing the little melody that is Naomi’s WhatsApp phone ringtone for when one of her kids call — and watching and hearing her visit with the girls and their young children — at least 5 days a week, often for an hour or more.

Naomi’s List (I will just add on a few more of my own)

Things that weren’t so great:

• unbearable heat along the coast
• dog poop on the sidewalk

Things I loved:

• Morning coffee and tea (or hot chocolate) in open air restaurants
• Incredible Walking Tours of Medellin with our guide. I learned so much about the city.
• Parques del Río where I could sit and draw and read
• A Huge Table  to draw and paint on
• Massive Pool at La Mansion in Rodadero. I could spend hours there every day
• House Garden in Minca. It was so magical and lush and had incredible birds in it.
• birdsong (all the time)
• Fish in creamy garlic sauce at our favourite Santa Marta restaurant
• Quiet walks to the first waterfall in Minca
• Hummus at the Arabic Restaurant in Minca (I have never tasted such good hummus)
• Trees, Shrubs, and Flowers in the Parks of Laureles
• fresh fruit ALL THE TIME

It is time to say farewell to Medellin. If I were a poet I might create something as an ode to our time here. But alas, I am not. So, instead I will make a list of somethings  I am experiencing for the last time this morning.

• Waking early to the roar of jets overhead
• The sound of the scritch scratch of rakes as the workers clean the leaves in the park beside our window
• The frantic rush of bikes along the bike path commute
• The yellow, green, and orange birds on the palm outside the dining window and the brown and grey, purple-headed doves pecking in the dirt along the path
• The hum of traffic on the roadway
• Morning sun glinting off the car and motorcycles parked in front of our building
• The chipper chirping of birds
• The ancient moss covered tree outside our kitchen window. Its gigantic above ground roots taking up as much real estate on the ground as its far reaching canopy does in the sky
• People walking briskly off to work along the sidewalks
• Motorcycles laden with plastic crates (or sacks, or big box-shaped “DoorDash” delivery bags, or stacked with too many people) zipping down the roadway
• The sour taste of Lulo on my tongue and the sweet sugary taste of pineapple.
• Smoothing our sheets on last time on our super comfortable bed
• Exiting our building and stepping off the last small step on our front entrance where Rudy and I have occasionally tripped and stumbled
• One last walk down the sidewalk and park outside our apartment. Many of the concrete pads sit at rakish angles, heaved up by massive roots of the enormous trees
• Dogs wandering and running through the park. (French bulldogs, huskies, border collies and Heinz 57s)
• Past the 6-foot-high hibiscus bush that seems to produce dozens of new blossoms each day
• And finally one last cup of cappuccino and French toast with fruit at our favourite restaurant.

Our flight to Bogota was supposed to leave at 4 p.m. We left at 1 from our apartment and took the short uber ride to the airport bus pickup and the long ride to the airport to arrive at 2. At the check in desk we were informed that our flight was delayed until 9 pm. We weren’t that happy but I reacted in a Stobbe type way which basically means I smiled and accepted it and Rudy behaved in the assertive Nikkel way which means questioning and confronting and trying to get something worked out. When that didn’t work he spent quite a bit of time going back and forth between the various airlines to see if he could book another flight. I said we should wait to find out if it work out and, if at 9 it still was delayed, we could wait till morning to catch a very early flight to Bogota to catch our flight home to Winnipeg. As it turned out the airline fed us supper at the airport and then we left at 9 pm and actually made it to Bogota in record time (about 30min.). Once in Bogota we got an Uber and headed toward our “hotel”. Some time into the ride Rudy realized he had given the wrong address so we had to turn around and head back. Finally we arrived at the weird hotel  which was basically some sort of building with apartments. We pressed a key code into the building, went to our floor and opened a lock box to get the key to let us in. The area of town seemed seedy but I suspect that it was just because it was late at night. We finally got to sleep about midnight and then were wakened by our alarm at 4 a.m. to head back to the airport to fly home.

Today is a day to pack my suitcase, clear up my art supplies, use the last of the milk and sugar for a final cup of tea and enjoy the neighbourhood for the last time. Tomorrow we catch a plane to Bogota and then on Wednesday we are up early for our flight back to Winnipeg.

We wanted to have on last breakfast at our favourite restaurant but when we got there it was closed. There were no chairs or tables on the little patio and when we consulted google we were informed that it was temporarily closed. For how long? Would we not be able to say goodbye to the two young men whom we had got to know there (the ones we named Che Gueva and Ryan Plett) or the woman who cooks there (Tante Marie)? We were very disappointed. We headed to our to other neighbourhood place called Pan y Cafe. It is fine but larger and we are not recognized as beloved regulars there but rather just the bumbling foreigners who can’t communicate very well.

Back at our apartment Rudy worked on computer stuff and I did another self portrait. This one I did quickly to try to get a “feeling” rather than an exact likeness. I liked what I got and it was a good experiment.

For lunch we weren’t that hungry but decided the hole in the wall restaurant that we discovered the first day we arrived in Medellin was a fitting place to visit. Ug, it was closed and we ended up going to the mall to the food court and after some aborted attempts at ordering we managed to get a hotdog. Not only was it too expensive but it really was not that good. Rudy’s fountain drink was some sort of red sugary liquid that I am sure RFK would either tout as a vaccine alternative or as a symptom of big cooperation take over of the nation’s food choices. Either of these options seem a good way to characterize the disgusting drink.

In the afternoon I slept and finished my Isabel Allende book and Rudy caught up on the Severance series. Supper was another cup of cappuccino and a ham and cheese croissant. And then back home for more Severance. This TV watching was periodically interrupted by Gus and James house sale updates and then the final celebration of the sale of the Victor Street house that the girls bought together 11 years ago. It marks the end of an era but excitement for a new place for Gus and James and the boys.

The list of things that we did today are numerous, but nothing was really all that important.

1. There was a huge football match here in Medellin today between the two Medellin teams. This is a huge rivalry that goes way back and when they play each other in their home stadium (home to both teams) it is a huge event. We even looked into getting tickets or joining a tour event of the game but in the end Rudy’s lack of enthusiasm for the game of soccer and my penny pinching ways clinched the deal and we will not attend. And therefore  it wasn’t a very important event, at least to us.
2. At breakfast, at our favourite restaurant, the two waiters, each wearing the team colours of opposing teams were amicable with each other despite who they cheer for. So nothing exciting or important happened there unless you count our delicious cappuccinos not important. Well I guess I take that back. They were a very important. Especially for Rudy.
3. I planned a walk to the Parques del Rio today (as I had hugely enjoyed last Sunday in the park) but really nothing important happened there either. However, some annoying things did.  A jolly, but slightly drunk man harassed me about my drawing for way too long. Also there were way too many French Bulldogs around. (They seem to be the dog of choice here.)
4. The Jets played the Buffalo Sabres in the afternoon and that definitely wasn’t good and therefore I deem it unimportant. The Jets lost 5 to 3.
5. I had a million phone calls with some of my relatives (my sister and some of my offspring). Important to me. But less so to you, the reader.
6. And finally supper. We had pasta. Does anyone care?  (crickets) I guess it’s not that important.

And that was our day.

Today we have no adventure plans and it feels great to think of a whole day ahead of me to do whatever I want. I have a real slow morning cuddled up with a cup of tea and a pencil crayon drawing I have been working on. Rudy is anxious to go for breakfast and me, I have fallen into my happy space and don’t want to leave.. But luckily he gets busy with something and by the time I have finished the picture we are both hungry and ready to go.  There is some disagreement as to where we should go but in the end it is back to our favourite place, for our favourite breakfast, sitting side by side on the very comfy couch on the patio.

Once we are back in our place I settled in on my drawing experiment from yesterday.  I had attempted  a self portrait. Today I thought I should continue on. Trying to hone my observation skills, I approached the task from a different angle. It was loads better than yesterday but probably the best part was getting a critique from Rudy. He has a real talent for observing shape and line, and a great spacial awareness that results in photo-like reproduction of images.  As a result of these keen observation skills, he was able to point out inconsistencies in my drawings that I had not seen. I am definitely going to keep on practicing drawing portraits. It is a good exercise and my thought is that I can only get better.

After all that strenuous work I packed up my kindle and headed to Parques del Rio to read. I settled in the corner of a concrete bench and sunk into my Isabel Allende, A Long Petal of the Sea. I totally lost myself and before I knew it, it was time for supper. On my way home I ran into some live music further along the river walk and texted Rudy to join me. From there we searched out an eating place on the other side of the river and had Lemonade con Coco and Lemonade con Maracuya. We also shared a Colombian version of poutine (French fries, aioli, some kind of red sauce, cayenne pepper, mozzarella cheese,  and shredded pork). Mmm… delicious.

As per usual,  walking home through the cool, dark streets in our neighbourhood is magical.

Today we planned on going up to the top of the mountains that surround the city to visit a huge nature park. Parque Arvi is 16,000 hectares with loads of hiking and biking trails and lots of wilderness. We wanted to experience a bit of it  but Rudy had read some discouraging reviews the night before so wasn’t that keen. But we did some more research and decided that, despite apprehensions and perhaps feeling a bit lazy, we would venture forth.

It was a bit of a journey. First a 15 minute walk to the SurAmerica metro station. Then a ride down 3 stops and a transfer onto another metro line for a longer journey. At the end of this line we took a cable car to the top of a mountain. And then we boarded the last cable car to the Parque Arvi.

The temperature was cooler on top of the mountain but the sweaters we had brought along still were not necessary. Once we got down into the trees and along the trails the air was cool and fresh and everything felt a little damp. The trails were well marked and had English (as well as Spanish, of course) on most signs and so we were able to figure out what to look for. Basically the park is filled with 72 of varieties of butterflies, 70 species of birds, and 19 species of mammals. (Not to mention the coral snake which we did not see. I was very relieved about this.) Although we did not see all of these living creatures, Rudy sure did have a lot of fun trying to run around and take pictures of each of the different butterflies that we saw (he only got one  good picture). I also enjoyed watching him run, squat, and crawl around.

After our glorious walk through the woods, looking at and learning about all kinds of flowers (orchids, bromeliads, anturiums), we climbed back up to the park entrance.

Before our visit to the park, Rudy had read a review where the writer raved about a restaurant near the park that served the best Arepa con Choclo (corn arepa). After finishing our hike we got directions as to where to find this restaurant. It was a 10-minute walk out of the park, down the mountain. When we got there we were hot and sweaty and Rudy, true to form, tried to use his Spanglish to relay his wants. Usually the exchange is cringy and awkward, but today he ramped it up a notch or two. He initially tried to communicate to the waiter that he had read in a review that this restaurant served the best arepas in the world. The waiter clearly did not understand. Rudy took his phone and spoke into his translation app and handed his phone to the waiter. The look on the waiter’s face was priceless. He shook his head somewhat disgustedly, handed back the phone, and went to get our food. We were perplexed by the waiter’s reaction, so Rudy pasted the Spanish text back into the translator and got this message:: (click to read).
Wow, that truly explained the waiter’s confused look.

When we got home we showered and went out for a fine meal at an Italian restaurant a few blocks from our place. After we got back from dinner it was early to bed — it had been another long and interesting day in Medellin.

Today was a nothing day. We had an adventure planned but decided to just enjoy time around our place and push our activity to tomorrow.  So off we went  to our favourite breakfast place. Rudy has named the lovely old woman who cooks there, Oma. I call her Tante Marie. But despite disagreeing on her name we both agree that you could easily transport this woman to behind the deli counter at Main Bread and Butter in Steinbach and she would fit right in. Cafe Proyecto is a hot spot in the neighbourhood and is often full at desayuno and almerzo. We arrived to find one table free. We ordered our usual French toast and a cappucchino for Rudy and a chai latte for me.  On the way home it started to rain and we tucked in under a covered doorway and waited out the worst of it.  I absolutely love the fact that it rains almost every day. Some days the rain comes at night and other times just a few minutes (or up to a half hour) in the morning or afternoon.

The rest of the morning and afternoon was spent drawing and painting. Really nothing to report there. No masterpieces were made. But it was good to be doing it after a few days away from my sketchbook. Rudy read all the news in the world, did the Thursday crossword puzzle, and created banners for the blog.

We headed out early afternoon to have almuerzo. We had spotted a place that offered the menu del dia for 10Mil ($3.50 Cdn). I wasn’t feeling that hungry but Rudy ordered the lunch meal which consisted of rice, chicken, arepa, salad, baked beans, and a fried plantain.

In the evening I tried something new. I have a friend that I went to U of W theatre with years ago. Heidi has shifted her creative energies away from acting to visual art and writing. I have been on her emailing list for quite some time after I went to one of her art events and have always thought I should join in on some of her art challenges or zoom lessons. So… I plucked up my courage and signed up for a writing workshop and from 6:30 to 7:45 I wrote. It was certainly enjoyable and I may make this a habit.

So now, we are watching the Jets play the Edmonton Oilers.  Watching Jets hockey with Rudy is getting to be a habit. Mostly I can handle the stress and if I can’t I just pace around the apartment. So far the score is 2 to 2. I guess I will put this blog away and concentrate on the game.

 

Today was cleaning day at our apartment so we left at 8 am to go for coffee so that the cleaning woman could do her work. We sat in the sun in a coffee shop and talked politics and Augusta and her boys video chatted a bit with us. We arrived home to the smell of clean that we have come to associate with any Central or South American country that we have visited. LAVENDER! Or at least the smell of lavender floor cleaning solution. It is STRONG. But strangely when I am away from it and then catch a whiff of it I am always nostalgic. I think it always brings me back to our time in Guatemala (and then of course all the other times we have been in these southern countries).

Today we decided to venture to the Museum of Modern Art. It was about a 45 minute walk and we managed to get there without losing our way (at least not very much). By the time we we were there we were hot and thirsty so stopped for some freshly squeezed juice and shared a sandwich plate.

We didn’t know what to expect and was hard to appreciate some of the art. Is it really art just because it is in an art museum? Here are a few weird pieces that we saw. They are all some sort of comment on technology. The centre one is done by a Canadian. This is proof that we too produce strange art.

One massive room was totally dedicated to an artist named Juan Fernando Herran. He is a local artist and most of the stuff was interesting, but sometimes hard to appreciate. The exhibition was called materials (as in construction materials) and constellations. There was a huge structure that was all about stairs. Aside from the huge structures, there was a wall that chronicled the photos, drawings, and models that he made in exploring the idea. For someone like me it helped put context to the idea and actually made it much more accessible. I actually liked the concept and loved the exploration of materials and lines.

He also made a film about motorcycles and power and gangs. In it he interviewed individuals and they told about the allure of power and how they accessed it through motor bikes and drugs and violence. It was actually fascinating to get an insight into the adrenaline that comes from power. And then the addiction to that power.

Another gallery exhibition was about women and I found that interesting.

The last exhibition was art that was produced during one (of many) period of incredible government corruption.

After bettering ourselves and expanding our intellect :), we headed home. It was still early so we chose to continue our artistic education and watched the movie, The Brutalist. Adrian Brody won an Oscar for best actor and it certainly was powerful and also an education into Brutalist architecture and the social pressures of that time.

Tomorrow we will probably take a down day.

I feel like I should give a trigger warning before this post. It is not like I am going to go into great detail but there are certainly violent acts that I will write about.

Today we had a leisurely morning eating pancakes and fresh fruit at our place before we headed off to the House of Memory. This museum is a state-of-the-art place where the history of Colombia and of Medellin is kept. This huge building is three floors high and the top two floors are library and archives and study area. There was quite a bit of English (both written and subtitles) in this museum so we were able to follow a lot of it. Basically the idea behind this museum was keeping alive the diverse stories from the past. Although the museum went into the history of pre-colonial and colonial times (and this gave context to the present), it mostly focused on stories from the last 40 years. Both Rudy and I sat for a long time at a story slideshow that told individual stories about life in Colombia through the 70s to the present day. There were stories of activists and of regular people. The activists often told of the deaths of their friends and fellow activists but others told of random violent acts that occurred out of nowhere and the loss of friends in the everyday events of grabbing a drink  at a bar after a day of university. A woman told the story of her rape by paramilitary persons when she was 11 and when her mother went to the authorities to report it, the mother was shot to death. But there was an element of truth and reconciliation because in recent years when this woman was gathering stories in an effort to foster healing amongst all sorts of people she traded stories with a man who had been in the paramilitary and had committed those same crimes as she was victim to. I will certainly carry these stories with me when I leave this place. This memory museum is an incredible national project filled with so much pain and so much hope for the future.

Today we planned to go on a tour of Comuna 13, a district of Medellin that has experienced so much pain in the past and is now moving towards regeneration. It has only been in the last 20 years that things have begun to change. Not long ago the community was one of the poorest and most violent communities in Medellin. Originally, the people who moved to the hillsides around Medellin were displaced people, and the city of Medellin never recognized them as citizens. They were provided no services—no schools, roads, water, or electricity—and to this day there are no roads on the side of the mountain. The are just houses stacked one upon the other. In the past,  the people here had to deal with the narcotics cartel of Pablo Escobar. After he was killed in 1993, they were terrorized by guerrillas. In an effort to combat the guerrillas, the government supported a paramilitary group, which only continued the violence. Alejandro, our tour guide, was born in 1996 and at the age of 6 (in 2002) he remembers the paramilitary coming in with huge guns, helicopters, and hundreds of soldiers. Supposedly they were sent to kill guerrillas, but in actual fact they gunned down people indiscriminately (some who may have been guerrillas). The paramilitary effort was backed by the United States and the world applauded their “success”. Alejandro’s uncle was killed by them, as were two of his cousins, ages 6 and 7.  How could 6 and 7-year-old kids be ‘guerrillas’? Alejandro shared more about the many bodies of the dead that were never surrendered to the families (although it was promised that they would be delivered within 24 hours) and how, to this day, mothers carry pictures of their slain family members in cards around their necks.

But Alejandro also talked about transformation. In 2005  Mayor Sergio Fajardo started an initiative to change things in crime ridden neighbourhoods such as Comuna 13 through education and culture. Within 6 years (2005 to 2011) the city built library parks (10 of them) and lots of schools. Alejandro, who is from the neighbourhood, said that education changed his life from what it might have been. In 2009 (and completed in 2012) the city of Medellin built escalators up the side of the mountain in order for people to more easily travel  to and from work, etc. After studying the problem of how to make the community more accessible without demolishing many homes, the government settled on an idea (borrowed from Asia) and built numerous long  escalators up the mountainside.

Alejandro said that through art, music, and dance, the community was transitioning and away from its violent past and has been given a voice. Over the last 10 or so years, the changes, particularly the many beautiful murals, have attracted thousands of tourists; people come to visit Comuna 13 and see the rejuvenation of this area. Alejandro was passionate about telling the world about the transformation of Comuna13; he invited all of us to tell our friends and neighbours back home that Medellin, once the most dangerous city in the world, is that no longer.

On the way home we decided to take the metro as our first tour guide Juli had said that it was a “must do” in Medellin. She said that it was a huge object of pride for the people here, as one of the signs of the change that has happened in the city. And just like she described, it was pristine. No garbage, no graffiti, and the people were quiet and well-mannered. Quite something in this country where often the music blares loudly, the people interact enthusiastically, and the garbage is plentiful.