Thursday, February 22, 2018
Cuba, a land of it's own
The day has finally come after so much anticipation and guessing. Looking at signs at the airport or seeing billboards and having an image of Cuba. Watching movies, reading Wikipedia and different articles about Cuba. Cuba- the land that is deeply guarded from us on paper but incredibly easy once you buy your ticket. The land that was stuck in time and you can't decide if it's a good thing or a bad thing. Everything is on the verge of falling but is incredibly photogenic and beautiful. The land where everyone is literate and educated but no one is working. The land where it doesn't seem like class exists and that everyone has equally as little as everyone else. The place where rubble piles gather throughout the city from crumbling buildings but the cars are scratchless classics. The land that you'll never be able to understand fully what the life is like unless you grew up here. I'm walking around trying to make sense of this and everything that's going on around me but I can't. I can't because I'm not part of it. I didn't grow up in a socialist dictatorship. I didn't grow up going to school for free or getting pensions or food rations. I didn't grow idolizing war heroes or my parents always being home and not working. I didn't grow up surrounded by everyone being outside instead of inside. I didn't grow up without technology, television, cell phones. I didn't grow up in a warm climate isolated from the world in the Caribbean. I didn't grow up never leaving my barrio. I didn't grow up with nothing better to do than sit around and talk. I didn't grow up without structure. What were the castros and Che's vision? What did they ultimately want for Cuba and have they been able to achieve this. Is this how they envisioned it? If not, what don't they? Everyone is educated but by whom and how well? I love it here. So different from home. The Burma of the west. Glad we're here now
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
Sweet sweet south
France is flying by on this EF trip. The first day that all three groups arrived (2 separate groups from Ohio and 1 group from Pittsburgh area) we headed towards something that you cannot find in the USA, a hanging vilage named La Chapelle saint-pierre. The hanging villages (translation from French) were formed to escape the pirates. They made villages that were high enough and far back enough from the sea with the sea still being in sight where the pirates would not bother them. This village has stone roads and winding narrow alleyways lined up with shops, sculptures, coffee shops and restaurants. Although it is a bit touristy it's a great place to spend an afternoon.
After this we spent time in the much cooler, humbler and beautiful Hollywood of France: Cannes. Cannes like Nice has a great promenade full of yachts, walkers and ice cream stands. Everyone was out walking around licking a scoop of their melting ice cream which was the best advertisement for an ice cream stand. It is surprising that everyone is skinny from what I've seen in Europe. People aren't walking around in exercise clothing like we do all over the states. You can't go anywhere without seeing someone who is wearing clothes that makes it seems like they just worked out. In France everybody is on the streets wearing dresses, sports coats or colored shirts with an ice cream in their hand yet they are the slender ones in comparison. They amount of walking they do everyday is what I've concluded is the main difference. Most people have to find time to exercise because we are not exercising in our day to day lifes. They are not exersizing because they move plenty in their daily life. Not only is walking the main difference but the portion sizes are as well. The portion sizes are smaller and the people seem to eat less. As a skinny kid who eats like a fat kid this has been difficult for me. I've found a way to make up for it though and that is through ice cream. I've been limiting myself to at least 1 cone/day.
Anyways, they handled jetlag with the best possible medicine of the Mediterranean sea. The coastline is interesting here as it is very rocky and difficult to find places to swim. The few small beaches that exist are full of people soaking up the sun, tops optional, and splashing around in the surprisingly cold water. I have been swimming at every opportunity but it has been surprisingly cold even though the blue in the pictures make it look tropical. I think because it is so close to the Atlantic that the water hasn't become a salty bathing pool as it is the further east you get into the Mediterranean.
The next day we woke up early to head to one of the smallest and richest countries in the world, Monaco. Fiats turned into Ferraris and thousands turned into millions in when crossing the border. The modern prince Albert is one of the few remaining princes in the world with nothing to really do but be a public figure. Like people like to do they try to separate the 0.1% and the 0.01% of wealth by having something around an $100,000 application fee to apply to be a member of this country club. This fee is non refundable of course- the prince has to pay the yacht bills.
Since we couldn't go to nice due to the attacks our amazing Tour Director Marguerite who I think was a grandmother of mine in another life took us to San Remo, Italy. The tightly packed development of mansions and yachts along the coastline of Monaco turned into the country side of Italy. Greenhouses and gardens filled the rolling hills leading up to the rocky cliffs of the Mediterranean. First stop in italy? Gelato. We spent 3 hours in Italy and for every hour I had 2 scoops of gelato. The more scoops you got the cheaper it was! I wasn't worried about the price though, just about trying as many flavors of this delicacy I haven't had in its homeland since I was 12. Italy is funny because all the restaurants in Italy are Italian restaurants. Everything is from there because why would they eat other food when they mastered their own? Everywhere else you go in the world is full of Italian restaurants. It's hard to go somewhere and not find pizza and pasta. Same thing with Irish pubs. You could be in almost any part of the world and find an Irish pub.
3 countries in 1 day? It was a good day.
Thursday, October 29, 2015
Own your name
Every time I travel I wait to find what part of me is going to give me access to parts of the country unknown by most. In Israel it was my heritage. In Turkey it was me having a Turkish friend I got to stay with and me stumbling into an essentially abandoned hostel. In China it was having a Chinese friend who I got to stay with. In Thailand & Burma it was meeting someone at the right place at the right time. In Japan it was reciprocation for hosting an exchange student. In Argentina it was my taxi driver. In Peru it was having a Peruvian girlfriend.
But what was it going to be Colombia? Because it was surely going to be something.
Macabee. To some a powerful name, to others a religious name, to others a name they've never heard before and to many difficult to pronounce! But it grabs your attention upon introduction and inspires deeper conversation.
I can always tell whose Jewish because when I tell a Jew, especially an Israeli my name their yamaka just about falls off. Immediately, we have a stronger connection and they are drawn to me. Laughing and asking questions and soon enough I'm getting ID'd to show them that yes, my name is indeed Macabee. "That's like my name being Lakers or Bulls or something". With the younger generation they love it because in Israel all of their favorite sports teams are Maccabi- Tel-Avia or Maccabi Haifa. They are Maccabi something or other. When I was in Israel I was walking through the markets and people were trying to sell my t-shirts with my name on it (just spelled differently). I was even drinking myself while I was there, Maccabee beer. It was delicious, you should try! These experiences were very funny and thrilling and helped establish the pride I have for my name. The Israelis I was meeting were immediately grabbing their phones and sending texts to their friends telling them they meet an American named Macabee!
Growing up non-religious but celebrating Christmas and Hanukah, mostly Christmas, I didn't have that much dignity in being Jewish. I was non-religious so to me it was more of a name then a subject of pride. However, after growing up, traveling and going to Israel I am certainly more prideful on my name and my heritage. It is something to embrace not to reject.
I randomly picked up an outdated Lonely Planet book and read "Lago Calima, great year round winds for Kiting and Windsurfing". Those words alone were enough to make sure I would be there. This sentence lead me to being dropped off in front of a warehouse on a desolate road in the dark. With some butterflies in my stomach I began knocking on the gates of what turned out to be heaven. Fold out chairs, a nice TV, video games, DirectTv, kitesurfing boards and kites, windsurfing sails, a nice clean bathroom, tents with mattresses inside a beautiful porch overlooking the lake that I would be kiting on for the next 3 days and a warehouse full of kitesurfing junkies! I had arrived and I was smiling. The community of kiters was amazing. Those next 3 days everyone who came in was family. We ate fresh trout daily, kited and joked around. It was a kiting frat house.
The owner of the place who they called Pescao, which essentially means fish in the water or lover of water, was a great guy. He was a Colombian who was a former professional windsurfer living in San Andres (A Colombian island east of Nicaragua). It sounded like he was a playboy windsurfing pro living in this Caribbean paradise having the time of his life. People were wishing they could be him. Until an unfortunate day that would change the course of the rest of his life. He got into a car accident and lost the movement in his legs for the rest of his life. I can't even begin to think about everything he went through after that. Thoughts all over the spectrum from how could this have happened to me to I'm so lucky I'm still alive. Even though Pescao could not be on the water, he was able to assist people getting in the water and he was still around the sport that he loved and will always love. He was inspirational in this sense and everybody who spent time there had a deep-rooted respect for him.
The hammer. That's what Macabee means in Hebrew. It hammered me right through the door into the Jewish community in Colombia. Yes, I didn't know it either but Colombia does have a Jewish community and I know just about all of them. The day I was leaving to go to Cali, Colombia I met a Colombian Jew and next thing you know I was staying at his apartment and hanging out in Jewish country clubs, club Shalom. My friend whose place I was staying with grew up in Israel and moved to Colombia when he was 13 years old (now 32). He had an uncle who moved to Colombia and his parents shortly followed to open a clothing business. This business was successful and they lived a nice life in Colombia. Maybe one that would not have been able to in Israel, who knows. His family weren't the only ones doing this at the time. There was a large community of Jews from Israel who moved to Colombia to start businesses and they're all members at club Shalom. It was a very interesting a fun cultural day hanging out with Colombian Jews and they were all very welcoming and happy to have me there.
As fate had it Yom Kippur was beginning the day that I left. As I was racing out of his apartment to catch up flight to the north of Colombia I met a Rabbi in the staircase. We stopped and had a conversation and it turned out he was from New York and had moved to Colombia, married the daughter of a Colombian Rabbi and lived in the apartment across the hall from where I was staying! What a coincidence right? In the basement of a parking lot in Cali, Colombia the morning before the start of Yom Kippur in the evening the Rabbi wrapped me up in Tefillin and had me recite a prayer. The only other time I've worn a Tefillin was at the wailing wall in Jerusalem. We said our goodbyes and off we split. I had the local Jewish experience in Cali that I could have never planned for and for that it was one of the most exciting unknown parts of my trip.
Moral of the story, introduce yourself.
But what was it going to be Colombia? Because it was surely going to be something.
Macabee. To some a powerful name, to others a religious name, to others a name they've never heard before and to many difficult to pronounce! But it grabs your attention upon introduction and inspires deeper conversation.
Growing up non-religious but celebrating Christmas and Hanukah, mostly Christmas, I didn't have that much dignity in being Jewish. I was non-religious so to me it was more of a name then a subject of pride. However, after growing up, traveling and going to Israel I am certainly more prideful on my name and my heritage. It is something to embrace not to reject.
I randomly picked up an outdated Lonely Planet book and read "Lago Calima, great year round winds for Kiting and Windsurfing". Those words alone were enough to make sure I would be there. This sentence lead me to being dropped off in front of a warehouse on a desolate road in the dark. With some butterflies in my stomach I began knocking on the gates of what turned out to be heaven. Fold out chairs, a nice TV, video games, DirectTv, kitesurfing boards and kites, windsurfing sails, a nice clean bathroom, tents with mattresses inside a beautiful porch overlooking the lake that I would be kiting on for the next 3 days and a warehouse full of kitesurfing junkies! I had arrived and I was smiling. The community of kiters was amazing. Those next 3 days everyone who came in was family. We ate fresh trout daily, kited and joked around. It was a kiting frat house.
The owner of the place who they called Pescao, which essentially means fish in the water or lover of water, was a great guy. He was a Colombian who was a former professional windsurfer living in San Andres (A Colombian island east of Nicaragua). It sounded like he was a playboy windsurfing pro living in this Caribbean paradise having the time of his life. People were wishing they could be him. Until an unfortunate day that would change the course of the rest of his life. He got into a car accident and lost the movement in his legs for the rest of his life. I can't even begin to think about everything he went through after that. Thoughts all over the spectrum from how could this have happened to me to I'm so lucky I'm still alive. Even though Pescao could not be on the water, he was able to assist people getting in the water and he was still around the sport that he loved and will always love. He was inspirational in this sense and everybody who spent time there had a deep-rooted respect for him.
The hammer. That's what Macabee means in Hebrew. It hammered me right through the door into the Jewish community in Colombia. Yes, I didn't know it either but Colombia does have a Jewish community and I know just about all of them. The day I was leaving to go to Cali, Colombia I met a Colombian Jew and next thing you know I was staying at his apartment and hanging out in Jewish country clubs, club Shalom. My friend whose place I was staying with grew up in Israel and moved to Colombia when he was 13 years old (now 32). He had an uncle who moved to Colombia and his parents shortly followed to open a clothing business. This business was successful and they lived a nice life in Colombia. Maybe one that would not have been able to in Israel, who knows. His family weren't the only ones doing this at the time. There was a large community of Jews from Israel who moved to Colombia to start businesses and they're all members at club Shalom. It was a very interesting a fun cultural day hanging out with Colombian Jews and they were all very welcoming and happy to have me there.
As fate had it Yom Kippur was beginning the day that I left. As I was racing out of his apartment to catch up flight to the north of Colombia I met a Rabbi in the staircase. We stopped and had a conversation and it turned out he was from New York and had moved to Colombia, married the daughter of a Colombian Rabbi and lived in the apartment across the hall from where I was staying! What a coincidence right? In the basement of a parking lot in Cali, Colombia the morning before the start of Yom Kippur in the evening the Rabbi wrapped me up in Tefillin and had me recite a prayer. The only other time I've worn a Tefillin was at the wailing wall in Jerusalem. We said our goodbyes and off we split. I had the local Jewish experience in Cali that I could have never planned for and for that it was one of the most exciting unknown parts of my trip.
Moral of the story, introduce yourself.
Thursday, October 8, 2015
Zona Cafetera
I had to spend Friday night in Medellin. I couldn't be in that city and not see what the night life on weekends was like. It didn't disappoint. I met up with a guy I know from University who has been teaching there for the past 8 months so I had him show me the ropes. Which ended up being the same ropes that every gringo knows. Parque Lleras, about a 15 minute walk from most hostels is a true public space. It is one that is transformed from a place to sit down and talk on a sunny day to a place to pre-game for people from every part of the world. It is legal to drink in public spaces and the liquor stores across the streets make it easy on you. The park was the most fun party I went to all night as people are friendly and having a fun time. It was a nice sprinkling of gringos and Colombians. It was like a UN conference being held in Parque Lleras and everyone was in a good mood. If this was how political conferences were held they might actually get things done. While, at least if they remembered it!
It is first come first serve as far as sitting room goes. After that, which is a no reservation type of deal, it a a make-your-own seat or standing room only. This scene of drinking, smoking, talking, street performances and dancing is happening until 4 am until everything is closing down. YES! In a public park. It was amazing. The park is surrounded by bars and clubs whose music is mixing together until it arrives to your ears in the park where it is hard to distinguish which song is coming from where. But you know that it is from all 360 degrees around you. If I had more time to discover the other clubs I'm sure I wouldn't have been disappointed. Any choice you make was going to be a fun one, even if your choice was to stay in the park all night. About a 5 minute walk from this park, depending if your walking straight or swerving, named Parque Poblado (Poblado is the neighborhood). In this park you will encounter a similar scene. Only the 5 minute walk attracts more locals than tourists for a reason I do not know.
After a few hours of passing out, not sleep, it was check-out time and I knew that I wanted to keep my travels moving even though my body was telling me otherwise. I met a Chilean and we were going to go together even though we were feeling the same way. We mustered up the courage and strength and next thing we knew we were leaving the beautiful city of Medellin. A warning would have been nice that the roads were as winding as the coils of a slinky. We only bought one seat each, even though his food and drinks decided to join us in the back corner of a small 10 person shuttle bus. Luckily I was able to hold mine back, barely.
We arrived in the Coffee Region to a town named Salento. Here it was a little cooler, light jacket weather, as we were a little higher up in the green mountains where Coffee grows best. This was a little cute town with a plaza and one main boulevard which reminded me of Guatape with its colorful buildings and spanish balconies. Just because it was small did not mean it was quite. Everybody was outside enjoying their Saturday night. Shopping, eating, drinking and dancing. That is a pretty good summary of a typical night in Latin America. From ages 16 until death.
In Salento, we went on a horseback ride to the different Coffee plantations and to a waterfall. Typically, I do not drink coffee. I find it to be something that people become reliant on to be awake and expensive. That being said, I vowed to myself to drink coffee while in Colombia. If I was ever going to drink coffee now was the time. As I was in the coffee region of one the most famed places for coffee it was time! As one of my roommates in college always asks me when we talk "Are you a man yet?" Me: "Yes, my balls have dropped" Him: "Do you drink coffee yet?". I was going to earn my manhood. It also helped that it was only $1-2 USD a cup.
Salento is the launching point for the must see Valle de Cocora. From Salento we took a 'Willy' aka a Jeep with bench seats and people holding on from the back, me, to the Valle. It is a beautiful Valley that has Colombia's national tree, the Wax Palm Tree. It is an odd looking tree as it is neck-hurtingly tall and huggingly skinny. Yes, I just made up that word. But it is a great tree for tree huggers! Most people from here do the 3 hour loop trail that takes you through the Wax Palm forests and up on the mountain to get a great viewpoint. This was something we wanted to do with the additional 3 hour trek to another waterfall. So we made the easy decision to stay at a little refugio in the mountains called 'la casa de colibrà (house of the hummingbird). This was not a random name as this classic refugio was full of colorful flowers and diverse hummingbirds. An abundance of hummingbirds like overweight people in the Ft.Wayne zoo. This was our jumping point to do a side-trek usually missed by tourists. The trek lead us to great viewpoints as well as dense parts of the forest. Overall, it was worth it just to wake up in the mountains after the coldest night I would ever experience in Colombia (discounting rooms with AC). The next morning we trekked out, but not before walking through these Dr. Seuss trees and enjoying a nice garden grown cup of coffee.
Before leaving Salento I stopped at a place I stumbled across walking back to the hostel. A restaurant that was owned by a guy from Portland and had American food! What is American food? Let me tell you. Hamburgers, chicken wings, sandwiches, brownies, milk shakes and PEANUT BUTTER. Yes, homemade peanut butter. This was a type of heaven for me as Colombian food is well known for being atrocious and fried. If body image weren't one of the most important things to Colombians I'm sure they would all be fat. At least based off of the food in most restaurants. Speaking of fat, I pigged out on the best chicken wings on the planet and bought a peanut butter jar to go. He makes his own homemade peanut butter in Colombia. That is like finding water on Mars. When I travel, I travel with a jar of peanut butter. Mine had run out about a month prior and I was forced, by myself, to buy a shitty jar in a grocery store. This man saved me. Thank you. What a cool guy, so Oregon to move somewhere and make your own PB. His job when he lived in Oregon was 'Inventor'. Great people Oregonians.
Pictures to come once my computer loosens up a bit and accepts my camera.
Salento is the launching point for the must see Valle de Cocora. From Salento we took a 'Willy' aka a Jeep with bench seats and people holding on from the back, me, to the Valle. It is a beautiful Valley that has Colombia's national tree, the Wax Palm Tree. It is an odd looking tree as it is neck-hurtingly tall and huggingly skinny. Yes, I just made up that word. But it is a great tree for tree huggers! Most people from here do the 3 hour loop trail that takes you through the Wax Palm forests and up on the mountain to get a great viewpoint. This was something we wanted to do with the additional 3 hour trek to another waterfall. So we made the easy decision to stay at a little refugio in the mountains called 'la casa de colibrà (house of the hummingbird). This was not a random name as this classic refugio was full of colorful flowers and diverse hummingbirds. An abundance of hummingbirds like overweight people in the Ft.Wayne zoo. This was our jumping point to do a side-trek usually missed by tourists. The trek lead us to great viewpoints as well as dense parts of the forest. Overall, it was worth it just to wake up in the mountains after the coldest night I would ever experience in Colombia (discounting rooms with AC). The next morning we trekked out, but not before walking through these Dr. Seuss trees and enjoying a nice garden grown cup of coffee.
Before leaving Salento I stopped at a place I stumbled across walking back to the hostel. A restaurant that was owned by a guy from Portland and had American food! What is American food? Let me tell you. Hamburgers, chicken wings, sandwiches, brownies, milk shakes and PEANUT BUTTER. Yes, homemade peanut butter. This was a type of heaven for me as Colombian food is well known for being atrocious and fried. If body image weren't one of the most important things to Colombians I'm sure they would all be fat. At least based off of the food in most restaurants. Speaking of fat, I pigged out on the best chicken wings on the planet and bought a peanut butter jar to go. He makes his own homemade peanut butter in Colombia. That is like finding water on Mars. When I travel, I travel with a jar of peanut butter. Mine had run out about a month prior and I was forced, by myself, to buy a shitty jar in a grocery store. This man saved me. Thank you. What a cool guy, so Oregon to move somewhere and make your own PB. His job when he lived in Oregon was 'Inventor'. Great people Oregonians.
Pictures to come once my computer loosens up a bit and accepts my camera.
Overnight trip to Guatape
An hour bus ride from Medellin you arrive to Guatape. After a short moto-taxi ride and a 740 steps up a giant rock, La Piedra del Penol, you are on top of the world. Or so it feels from the rock. You are looking at what appears to be a Monet painting with the turquoise finger lake wrapping around and consuming little pieces of jungle land. Your not quite sure what your looking at, but it appears as a lake with little islands everywhere. Or is the land connected are they islands? The lake goes on for as long as your eyes can see. At the turquoise water line the orange earth takes where it roots the trees that soon become dense green jungle. The colors are amazing, no paintbrush necessary! Just the wonders of earth. This town is full of adventure and color. Not only did mother earth paint the scenery to be colorful, but man painted the town to be so. There are little murals painted all over decrypting different people of Colombia as well as animals, rainbows, you name it. You can spend a day just wandering the little town looking at all the different pictures. Not only that, but the buildings in the town look like a magical skittles commercial because they are all colors of the rainbow. I was outside a cafe here drinking a coffee (I had to b/c I was in Colombia) and enjoying the colors when a group of Colombian teenagers on a school trip sat down and befriended me. We talked and took pictures away as they fought to take solo-pictures with me (instead of group) until their teachers had to drag them away to continue there day!
If you are ever in Medellin Guatape is a must!
If you are ever in Medellin Guatape is a must!
Wednesday, October 7, 2015
Colombia: Misunderstood
Cocaine, Violence, Pablo Escobar, War on Drugs, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Political Instability, Smuggling, Women, Rebel Groups, Coffee, Cartels, James Rodriguez
These are some things that might come to mind when one thinks about Colombia. Actually these are the things that the world thinks about when they hear about Colombia. Especially Cocaine, Pablo Escobar and Violence. Yes, Pablo Escobar did live in Colombia and he is the main reason cocaine has been exported around the world and it is a part of modern day culture. Violence summarized most of his reign as the "King of Cocaine" as he was somebody whose bad side you didn't want to be on, unless you didn't value your life. However, to some people he was seen in a greater light. Usually the poorer people. As he was known for buying houses for poorer people and help renovate underdeveloped areas. There are stories still floating around Medellin, where he ruled from, about him buying kids cars and bikes for almost no reason at all. However, this doesn't take away from any of the people he killed or the fear that most people lived in throughout the 80's and 90's as Colombia, the epicenter being in Medellin, became the murder capital of the world.
In 2015, twenty-two years after the head of the snake, Pablo Escobar, was announced dead Colombia still has the reputation of drugs and violence. Having most of these thoughts in my head I was a little wary to travel through Colombia. As most travelers going through South America tend to skip Colombia, making it all the more intriguing as well. I was expecting Colombia to be much more undeveloped than Peru & Argentina. Both of which I have spent significant time in and attract bundles of tourists year-round. Mainly due to the wonders of Machu Picchu and Patagonia.
Stepping out of the airport doors and into the wild mayhem of South America is usually full of many people yelling at you to get in their cabs showing you their name tags to try to inform you that they are a formal, safe taxi service. It is like throwing food into a pond full of fishes and having them all fight for a nibble. As the food, it is very overwhelming and you don't know who to trust or how much of the "gringo price" they are giving you, because they are surely raising the price. As I prepped myself to walking through the door putting on my game face, trying to pretend I was Argentinean I shocked. No one came up to me. I wasn't being surrounded. What was wrong? I smelled my air pits and they still smelled like Old Spice. Was I in the wrong place? It turns out that they are organized and friendly with other cab drivers. They have a line and the first in line takes the first driver etc. etc. They also have collectivos, which are shared taxis (The US has finally caught on with UberPool) where you pay much less and wait until the taxi is full and then off you go. On the 45 minute drive to Medellin the roads were spectacular. Some of the nicest, smoothet paved roads I had ever been on. Maybe my perception was a little skewed as I had been driving on narrow rocky informal roads for the past 4 months. Even so they were amazing. But most surprising of all the drivers actually obeyed the laws. WHERE WAS I? Because it sure wasn't like anywhere else I had ever been in South America. Red meant stop and green meant go. Cars weren't passing each other at random times with cars in the oncoming lane approaching as if you were going to have a head-on showdown. As we approached the crest of the valley of Medellin we looked down on the shining orange lights of the city nice Schwin, Trek, Specialized & Giant road bikes were going up the valley in abundance. The kind of bikes that you only see in privileged parts of the US. Now I was really curious where I was because this wasn't the Colombia, especially not the Medellin that I've heard about on the news or by the preceding reputation of Colombia.
Los Paisas, the people from Medellin, are extremely proud to be from Medellin (pronounced Medejin). The are very regionalistic and believe that they are the most developed, the best looking and the most successful and from the most beautiful part of Colombia. They love their city. Let me tell you something else that Colombia is famous for that you might not have known. They're famous for having the second happiest people in the world (behind Brazil). Not only are they happy but they're so friendly you feel like they have some kind of angle or are going to ask you for money for the help. City people around the world have reputations for being more in a rush and non-personable. Medellin doesn't fit that stereotype either as they are the second biggest city in Colombia with 2 million people but they go out of there way to talk to you and ask you where you're from and if you're enjoying yourself in Colombia. On multiple occasions I was lost and looking for something and not only did people give me directions they walked me to where I was going to ensure my safety and to get to know me.
Like I said earlier, Medellin used to live up to its reputation as the capital of cocaine and violence. People were scared in their own city that they love so much because of Escobar's operations. Not only were Escobar and other cartels making them live in fear, but fighting Marxist rebel groups would have acts of violence such as various bombings and shooting that occurred in Medellin and around the country. Los Paisas were desperate for change. A strong symbol of this group mentality for change was a metro train that one mayor ordered to be built. As the city was growing at a rapid rate due to immigration from the Colombia countryside the city was disconnected and violence ensued from lack of/access to formal jobs. Thus, they got caught up in gangs and drug life. The mayor called for the construction of a Metro during these rough times in Medellin and boy was it a great idea! The train has been running in 1995 and is incredibly well-respected by the locals. It is spotless. I would much rather lick the floors of that metro than I would the floors of most houses. It connects the entire city north south and east and west. Ending long commutes for workers, making the city more accessible to everybody rich and poor. While at the same time allowing for tourist infrastructure. It is nicer and cheaper than any train I have ever been on in my life. Latin America is notorious for traffic and being disorganized but this city goes against yet another reputation.
Medellin, like most Latin cities has informal shanty town called 'invasiones' on the hills. These areas are flooded with violence and poverty. As they have no economy and live to far away to reach the city. Even with the creation of the metro they live in the hills where the metro does not reach. With the great success of the Metro and the reform of Medellin they decided to build cable cars that start at a metro stop and go all the way up into the hills. This could have either been a great idea, as it gave these people access to the city and opportunity. Or it could have been a horrible idea as they were giving gangsters access to the city. Los paisas were so ready for a change that this has been amazing for the city and they have now built two cable cars and are planning on building more. They have also built a moving escalator, like in airports, however this one is outside and goes from the bottom of the valley to the top. It is one of a kind. They are an example for the rest of South America and they have been recognized. Other countries such as Brazil and Peru are looking to build cable cars and are hoping it is as successful as it has been in Medellin.
They have also built world-class libraries in these shanty towns and state of the art sports fields. It is an amazing contrast that could not have worked had the people not wanted change. Everybody was so sick and tired of living in fear that they have made it work. Because it is up to the citizens to make the change. The infrastructure was built for them and they chose to use it for good rather than for evil.
Yes, there is still Cocaine in Medellin. Supply wouldn't exist without demand. The demand mostly sits in the USA and Europe and that is apparent when you are in Colombia. The tourists are the ones running around coked out of their heads, not the locals.
Picture from the top of one of the cable cars.
These are some things that might come to mind when one thinks about Colombia. Actually these are the things that the world thinks about when they hear about Colombia. Especially Cocaine, Pablo Escobar and Violence. Yes, Pablo Escobar did live in Colombia and he is the main reason cocaine has been exported around the world and it is a part of modern day culture. Violence summarized most of his reign as the "King of Cocaine" as he was somebody whose bad side you didn't want to be on, unless you didn't value your life. However, to some people he was seen in a greater light. Usually the poorer people. As he was known for buying houses for poorer people and help renovate underdeveloped areas. There are stories still floating around Medellin, where he ruled from, about him buying kids cars and bikes for almost no reason at all. However, this doesn't take away from any of the people he killed or the fear that most people lived in throughout the 80's and 90's as Colombia, the epicenter being in Medellin, became the murder capital of the world.
In 2015, twenty-two years after the head of the snake, Pablo Escobar, was announced dead Colombia still has the reputation of drugs and violence. Having most of these thoughts in my head I was a little wary to travel through Colombia. As most travelers going through South America tend to skip Colombia, making it all the more intriguing as well. I was expecting Colombia to be much more undeveloped than Peru & Argentina. Both of which I have spent significant time in and attract bundles of tourists year-round. Mainly due to the wonders of Machu Picchu and Patagonia.
Stepping out of the airport doors and into the wild mayhem of South America is usually full of many people yelling at you to get in their cabs showing you their name tags to try to inform you that they are a formal, safe taxi service. It is like throwing food into a pond full of fishes and having them all fight for a nibble. As the food, it is very overwhelming and you don't know who to trust or how much of the "gringo price" they are giving you, because they are surely raising the price. As I prepped myself to walking through the door putting on my game face, trying to pretend I was Argentinean I shocked. No one came up to me. I wasn't being surrounded. What was wrong? I smelled my air pits and they still smelled like Old Spice. Was I in the wrong place? It turns out that they are organized and friendly with other cab drivers. They have a line and the first in line takes the first driver etc. etc. They also have collectivos, which are shared taxis (The US has finally caught on with UberPool) where you pay much less and wait until the taxi is full and then off you go. On the 45 minute drive to Medellin the roads were spectacular. Some of the nicest, smoothet paved roads I had ever been on. Maybe my perception was a little skewed as I had been driving on narrow rocky informal roads for the past 4 months. Even so they were amazing. But most surprising of all the drivers actually obeyed the laws. WHERE WAS I? Because it sure wasn't like anywhere else I had ever been in South America. Red meant stop and green meant go. Cars weren't passing each other at random times with cars in the oncoming lane approaching as if you were going to have a head-on showdown. As we approached the crest of the valley of Medellin we looked down on the shining orange lights of the city nice Schwin, Trek, Specialized & Giant road bikes were going up the valley in abundance. The kind of bikes that you only see in privileged parts of the US. Now I was really curious where I was because this wasn't the Colombia, especially not the Medellin that I've heard about on the news or by the preceding reputation of Colombia.
Los Paisas, the people from Medellin, are extremely proud to be from Medellin (pronounced Medejin). The are very regionalistic and believe that they are the most developed, the best looking and the most successful and from the most beautiful part of Colombia. They love their city. Let me tell you something else that Colombia is famous for that you might not have known. They're famous for having the second happiest people in the world (behind Brazil). Not only are they happy but they're so friendly you feel like they have some kind of angle or are going to ask you for money for the help. City people around the world have reputations for being more in a rush and non-personable. Medellin doesn't fit that stereotype either as they are the second biggest city in Colombia with 2 million people but they go out of there way to talk to you and ask you where you're from and if you're enjoying yourself in Colombia. On multiple occasions I was lost and looking for something and not only did people give me directions they walked me to where I was going to ensure my safety and to get to know me.
Like I said earlier, Medellin used to live up to its reputation as the capital of cocaine and violence. People were scared in their own city that they love so much because of Escobar's operations. Not only were Escobar and other cartels making them live in fear, but fighting Marxist rebel groups would have acts of violence such as various bombings and shooting that occurred in Medellin and around the country. Los Paisas were desperate for change. A strong symbol of this group mentality for change was a metro train that one mayor ordered to be built. As the city was growing at a rapid rate due to immigration from the Colombia countryside the city was disconnected and violence ensued from lack of/access to formal jobs. Thus, they got caught up in gangs and drug life. The mayor called for the construction of a Metro during these rough times in Medellin and boy was it a great idea! The train has been running in 1995 and is incredibly well-respected by the locals. It is spotless. I would much rather lick the floors of that metro than I would the floors of most houses. It connects the entire city north south and east and west. Ending long commutes for workers, making the city more accessible to everybody rich and poor. While at the same time allowing for tourist infrastructure. It is nicer and cheaper than any train I have ever been on in my life. Latin America is notorious for traffic and being disorganized but this city goes against yet another reputation.
Medellin, like most Latin cities has informal shanty town called 'invasiones' on the hills. These areas are flooded with violence and poverty. As they have no economy and live to far away to reach the city. Even with the creation of the metro they live in the hills where the metro does not reach. With the great success of the Metro and the reform of Medellin they decided to build cable cars that start at a metro stop and go all the way up into the hills. This could have either been a great idea, as it gave these people access to the city and opportunity. Or it could have been a horrible idea as they were giving gangsters access to the city. Los paisas were so ready for a change that this has been amazing for the city and they have now built two cable cars and are planning on building more. They have also built a moving escalator, like in airports, however this one is outside and goes from the bottom of the valley to the top. It is one of a kind. They are an example for the rest of South America and they have been recognized. Other countries such as Brazil and Peru are looking to build cable cars and are hoping it is as successful as it has been in Medellin.
They have also built world-class libraries in these shanty towns and state of the art sports fields. It is an amazing contrast that could not have worked had the people not wanted change. Everybody was so sick and tired of living in fear that they have made it work. Because it is up to the citizens to make the change. The infrastructure was built for them and they chose to use it for good rather than for evil.
Yes, there is still Cocaine in Medellin. Supply wouldn't exist without demand. The demand mostly sits in the USA and Europe and that is apparent when you are in Colombia. The tourists are the ones running around coked out of their heads, not the locals.
Picture from the top of one of the cable cars.
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
To see or not to see?
After finishing up my summer job at Rustic Pathways in Peru this summer I made sure to book my ticket at least a month after my end date for some imperative traveling, after a summer where all I did was travel. Yes, I was wiped out and tired after 60 days of nonstop traveling while being in charge of groups of 20 dependent, vulnerable, horny, non-stop question asking, high maintenance teenagers. It is a job where you are technically working 24 hours a day, however when you are whitewater rafting, zip-lining, bungee jumping and visiting some of the worlds most renowned historical sites it doesn't always feel like a job. However, when you are herding kids like sheep in foreign countries where they don't speak the language, translating, arranging meals, taking care of injuries and answering the barrage of questions about what we will be doing every minute for the next 15 days it can feel like a job.
Anyways, after these memorable 60 days I needed to jet-set myself and I only had a little over a month to decide where I was going to parade around in South America. My only restriction was my flight was leaving out of Medellin and that I was in Lima, Peru at the time. To some people this can seem like a daunting task. How will I get to Medellin? Where will I stay? Isn't Colombia dangerous? Is it safe for an American to go there alone? Most people would consider me relaxed in this aspect as I prefer to travel in this fashion and thrive doing so. In my eyes my trip was already a little restricted because I had a return ticket and I had to be in Medellin by a certain date. I enjoy the thrill of a showing up in a city or a pueblo by myself in the night time with my backpack and getting off the bus with everybody staring at me wondering why I am there. Judging me curiously with my sunkissed (or furiously burnt) face, my sleeveless shirt demonstrating my white gumby like arms, my light colored long hair tied back into a ponytail and my shorts. If these clues weren't obvious enough to demonstrate that I was a gringo surely my 35lbs backpack shooting above my head like a linebackers neck protection and my smaller backpack on my frontside were. Not having anywhere to go and not knowing anybody in the town add an excitement as well. It is a great way to get a feel for the people are you speak to them and ask them if they know of any cheap hostels nearby. This is a great indicator of the people of the city and even the people from the country. There willingness to talk to a lost stranger and their receptive manner to this. So, as much as they are judging me, I am not only judging them, but their entire population. For this reason it is important that I do this often to get as many subjects as I can to have more of a wholesome experiment. It would be unfair if I judged all of Peru based off of the one person who was late for a date at 10pm on a Tuesday (and yes, chances are everyone is late, don't forget I'm in Latin America).
With a little over a month to myself and after visiting the two sites in Peru I had to before I left Peru (Huaraz & Iquitos) I was debating whether I should split my time between Ecuador and Colombia or just get to know Colombia really well. This is a tuff debate for a traveler and really depends on the type of traveler that you are. Also, of course, your budget. Should you see more countries and go to all of the places that you would think of going to on a pre-mediated trip, more of the tourist route (i.e. for Peru Machu Picchu, Lake Titicaca, Arequipa). OR, do you go to a country and really get a good feel for it. Not rushing through it and having time to visit small pueblos that you wouldn't have time to do. I don't like to rush, in most aspects of life, so I choose Colombia and only Colombia. This meant leaving from Iquitos (where the Amazon river basin begins), which is only reachable my plane or boat, I would have to fly into Colombia or take a boat. Distance wise it should be easy to fly to Colombia, but because Peru is so centralized it is cheaper to fly to Lima and the fly to Colombia than it is to fly directly to Colombia. I choose the boat ride 10 hours in speedboat rather than 3 days in slow boat further down the Amazon to Leticia, Colombia.
Look at a map of Leticia, Colombia to see that right there is where Colombia, Peru and Brazil border. It is interesting because more than really belonging to these countries these people belong to the amazon. They have beautiful, smooth, naturally moisturized mocha skin. The men don't have facial hair as an evolutionary trait of living in the Amazon. It is too humid to have hair in the amazon and I can confirm that statement with my ponytail and my Jewish, Italian genes having spent a good amount of time in the Amazon. Genetics are amazing and mine definitely do not come from there! Even though these people are more Amazonian than anything they still have a ton of pride for their own respective countries, especially in matters as important as futbol. On the day that Colombia played Brazil in the 2014 World Cup they closed land border shared between them that is typically free to cross. I'm sure this was necessary as they are both loquito for their teams. The border between Peru and Colombia has to be crossed by boat but between Colombia and Brazil it can be easily crossed by foot. I crossed in the Brazil just for fun while I was there and it is amazing how much 10 yards can make. All of a sudden things were in a different language, the people looked different, they were listening to Samba music, eating different food and drinking different beer! It is amazing to see the difference between 3 countries all within a confined area. This women I talked with in Brazil told me that most people there don't speak Spanish but that they understand it and visa versa with the Colombians and Peruvians. They cross the borders to buy things in the other countries such as electronics and clothes which are cheaper in Colombia and Peru than in Brazil.
Anyways, after these memorable 60 days I needed to jet-set myself and I only had a little over a month to decide where I was going to parade around in South America. My only restriction was my flight was leaving out of Medellin and that I was in Lima, Peru at the time. To some people this can seem like a daunting task. How will I get to Medellin? Where will I stay? Isn't Colombia dangerous? Is it safe for an American to go there alone? Most people would consider me relaxed in this aspect as I prefer to travel in this fashion and thrive doing so. In my eyes my trip was already a little restricted because I had a return ticket and I had to be in Medellin by a certain date. I enjoy the thrill of a showing up in a city or a pueblo by myself in the night time with my backpack and getting off the bus with everybody staring at me wondering why I am there. Judging me curiously with my sunkissed (or furiously burnt) face, my sleeveless shirt demonstrating my white gumby like arms, my light colored long hair tied back into a ponytail and my shorts. If these clues weren't obvious enough to demonstrate that I was a gringo surely my 35lbs backpack shooting above my head like a linebackers neck protection and my smaller backpack on my frontside were. Not having anywhere to go and not knowing anybody in the town add an excitement as well. It is a great way to get a feel for the people are you speak to them and ask them if they know of any cheap hostels nearby. This is a great indicator of the people of the city and even the people from the country. There willingness to talk to a lost stranger and their receptive manner to this. So, as much as they are judging me, I am not only judging them, but their entire population. For this reason it is important that I do this often to get as many subjects as I can to have more of a wholesome experiment. It would be unfair if I judged all of Peru based off of the one person who was late for a date at 10pm on a Tuesday (and yes, chances are everyone is late, don't forget I'm in Latin America).
With a little over a month to myself and after visiting the two sites in Peru I had to before I left Peru (Huaraz & Iquitos) I was debating whether I should split my time between Ecuador and Colombia or just get to know Colombia really well. This is a tuff debate for a traveler and really depends on the type of traveler that you are. Also, of course, your budget. Should you see more countries and go to all of the places that you would think of going to on a pre-mediated trip, more of the tourist route (i.e. for Peru Machu Picchu, Lake Titicaca, Arequipa). OR, do you go to a country and really get a good feel for it. Not rushing through it and having time to visit small pueblos that you wouldn't have time to do. I don't like to rush, in most aspects of life, so I choose Colombia and only Colombia. This meant leaving from Iquitos (where the Amazon river basin begins), which is only reachable my plane or boat, I would have to fly into Colombia or take a boat. Distance wise it should be easy to fly to Colombia, but because Peru is so centralized it is cheaper to fly to Lima and the fly to Colombia than it is to fly directly to Colombia. I choose the boat ride 10 hours in speedboat rather than 3 days in slow boat further down the Amazon to Leticia, Colombia.
Look at a map of Leticia, Colombia to see that right there is where Colombia, Peru and Brazil border. It is interesting because more than really belonging to these countries these people belong to the amazon. They have beautiful, smooth, naturally moisturized mocha skin. The men don't have facial hair as an evolutionary trait of living in the Amazon. It is too humid to have hair in the amazon and I can confirm that statement with my ponytail and my Jewish, Italian genes having spent a good amount of time in the Amazon. Genetics are amazing and mine definitely do not come from there! Even though these people are more Amazonian than anything they still have a ton of pride for their own respective countries, especially in matters as important as futbol. On the day that Colombia played Brazil in the 2014 World Cup they closed land border shared between them that is typically free to cross. I'm sure this was necessary as they are both loquito for their teams. The border between Peru and Colombia has to be crossed by boat but between Colombia and Brazil it can be easily crossed by foot. I crossed in the Brazil just for fun while I was there and it is amazing how much 10 yards can make. All of a sudden things were in a different language, the people looked different, they were listening to Samba music, eating different food and drinking different beer! It is amazing to see the difference between 3 countries all within a confined area. This women I talked with in Brazil told me that most people there don't speak Spanish but that they understand it and visa versa with the Colombians and Peruvians. They cross the borders to buy things in the other countries such as electronics and clothes which are cheaper in Colombia and Peru than in Brazil.
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