Falling in love with Colombia

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So we arrived at the top of the hill, or small mountain, if you will, and could see all of Bucaramanga and its mountains. There was a large zone fenced off for the take off and landing of parapenters, and they were dozens swirling in the air above.

So you gonna jump? You’re going to do it? -said the eager voices of Ramon and Jorge. My initial thought and response was no way!!! Did I really need to fly off the edge of a mountain??

I knew I wanted to try it someday, just to do it, but not because it was something I always wanted to do. The two of them kept insisting, especially Ramon, do it, do it, do it. It really didn’t persuade me. It was not just that I was afraid, I could conquer that. It was the sad feeling of knowing I would be taking away one more bit of the mystery of life, as if I would be using up more of its limited magic, eating one of the few last chocolates, and worst of all I would be doing it alone. More than to kill the curiosity or fulfill the desire to fly of the side of a mountain, which no longer seemed quite so extraordinary to me anyways, I wanted to experience the feeling of comradery, of conquering a challenge, a fear, of doing the extraordinary, together with someone, as I had done with many friends in Canada.

I told Ramon, I wanted to wait to jump, when I bring tourists or Luzma here. At least that way I could jump with others that have never jumped before, and afterwards we could all celebrate and relish in our glory and conquest together.

He said but we are here, but the problem was they were not jumping with me.

I went to the bathroom and it occurred to me, I was totally fine with passing up this chance and coming back to do it another day, but then it occurred to me. This is not Vivian. I take the opportunities when I have them, I do not know the opportunities of tomorrow, I take advantage of the present, and fear is not a factor to stop me. I thought to myself, I need a change, I need to be me, its not tooooo dangerous, but most of all, I let go. I’ll put my faith into something else, and let go of the reigns and see where it takes me, because only with this kind of courage can I jump of the side of a mountain. I’ve let go before, in fragile moments, in tired moments, in desperate moments, and in moments of ecstasy, and everytime I landed in the right place, a renewed, rejuvenated me.

Ok! I’m doing it! Sign me up. Within 10 minutes I was on the take off field with guys strapping me in. Was my harness tight enough? Was my helmet good? Was I strapped well to the instructor? Would something give way? This was the point when real fear kicked in, but there was nothing left to do but just go on and deal with it.

Ahhhhhhhhhh!!! We going!! My feet are lifting!! -and within seconds up, up, and away, we started lifting up above the field, and at the same time quickly swooshing forward, and at about the same time I noticed my feet were no longer touching I noticed we were off the edge to the mountain, hundreds of meters high. We lifted higher, and higher, and higher, until it seemed like I had come from an airplane and not the ground.... I began to laugh uncontrollably with excitement and happiness.

Wow... how beautiful. Look, said Juan Pablo, my instructor. What? Look at the at the hawk. There was a hawk flying at our left wing, at the same speed, so close!! Wow!! This was the first time I had actually flown with the birds!!

I began to talk to Juan, and ask him about his experience, and where he was from, and what were the challenges and dangers with parapenting, and he asked me what I was doing in Colombia, and I told him, and then we decided to do a crazy manoeuvre in which we go really high and spin downwards many times in a spiral to lose lots of altitude rapidly. I’m not sure how high we were, but I would guess 2000 ft (from my skydiving experience). So we went up a little higher, and then rapidly began to spiral downwards!! Wow, the pressure, the dizziness, it was disorienting but fun, and intense!

After losing altitude we began to fly only meters above the trees on the mountain side. It was exhilarating. I began to laugh with happiness and excitement. I felt like a bird, and for the first time in my life I had their view, and almost their power- well the instructor that was controlling the parapent did.

After 20 minutes of fun and circles, and darling close swirls to the ground, down and up, we finally landed- but I didn’t want to. I want to keep swilling and laughing, and playing in the skies.

I heard the children yelling, Vivi! Vivi! Ya, Vivi!! Little Daniel and Sabastian. What joy, they were cheering for me. I came back and hugged Jorge and Ramon. I had conquered the challenge, and fulfilled the part that makes me me. I felt good, I felt great, I felt happy, I felt joy, I felt relaxed, exhilarated, and calm.

Ramon had been so kind to me and he had wanted so much to show me a good time, to make me happy, that I wanted so much to return the favour, but couldn’t. I tried to get him to jump, knowing it would make him feel the way I was feeling, but he was too scared.

We had a celebratory beer and top of the mountain, with the kids all around, and in the afternoon sun we watched the daredevil skateborders and rollerbladers on the skatepark they had constructed. I guess they figured daredevil sports go hand in hand, and so they did.

On the way back from the mountain the kids began to peep. We want to go to the farm!! We want to go to the farm!! Ramon- yes??? Vivian do you want to come?? Well... I would love to but first I need to call Avianca to see if I can change my flight. Listo.

I called, and for only two dollars I postponed my flight to the end of the week. Hurry! Let’s pack our bags!! It was already almost 6 pm! I put my ipod on and danced my clothes into my backpack within minutes, and off we went. After a short grocery we exited Bucaranmanga on the most spectacular road I have ever seen. A mountain side road, weaving left and right, rising and falling into the canyons. I had been on this road in the day, so I had seen all the beauty it had to offer, but the night experience, although I could not see as far was beautiful too.

As we listened to the latin beats of Colombia, and the boys sang along to the romantic salsa rhythms, I felt a sense of calm sleepiness take over me, like late nights driving around in cottage country. I felt relaxed, fulfilled, happy, complete. There was nothing that I lacked in that moment, and I loved every person in the car.

It took us about 3 hours to reach the farm. We pulled up to a large steel gate and Jorge got out to open it. When he opened the door, the soft sweet smell of hay, animals, and earth filled the car, reminding me of every moment I had ever spent on a farm. It was delightful and comforting.

We then pulled up to the ancient farm house. It was a massive one-story house, with at least 5 or 6 bed rooms, excluding the kitchen and dining room, and it was constructed of tapia or adobe, painted white, with an orange clay shell roof. You could tell the house was very old, and was surrounded by terraces, tiled with old clay stones, and enlaced by wooden banisters. The house was beautiful and spelt country. There were places to feed the horses in the front and back of the house, and you could even tie them up in the courtyard adjacent to the dining room. Yes this did mean the whole place was covered in manure, but it was ok, the animals breathed life and character into this delightful place. There were saddles hung up on the walls, and even an old lasso made of hide, that they still used to heard the cattle- not to mention the wood burning stove used to cook all the meals on open flame. Wow, this place was as authentic and rustic as it gets.

Thankfully, Ramon did not skimp out on modern conveniences where the bathroom was concerned. There was a fully functioning normal toilet and a shower with HOT water!

It was long before everybody went off to bed, and after a brief session of taichi in the starlit courtyard, I had my hot shower and went off to bed too.

I woke late, and can’t say I had a very good sleep; the bed was extremely hard. Nancy, the cook and wife of one of the workers on the farm (Ramon had 200 hectares of farm, with sugar cane, cattle, and coffee), prepared a delicious traditional Santander breakfast, with soup, hot chocolate, bread, fried bananas and cheese.

After breakfast it was time to saddle up. I got the pregnant mare, but as my horse luck would have it, she was NOT slow, nor eager to keep from running. I had to hold the girl back for most of the time, to keep from galloping between the thickets of trees, but she was perfect for me. She had spirit, and a drive, a passion to run, but at the same time she listened. -and I wanted to let her go almost as much as she wanted to go, but the mountainous terrain was rough, often without trail and often steeply sloping down on rocky ground. The vista of the country side was indescribably beautiful. Everything you could ever dream of and more. Gorgeous green rolling mountains, forests of every kind of tree, including tropical palms and trees that resembled weeping willows, covered in large leafy vines. There were wild flowers, and grasslands interspersed with orchards of lemon, orange, and guyaba trees, all of which filled the air with sweet citrus smells. The climate was warm, but not hot and the sun, bright but soft. I could seriously say that when I was a child and had heard my pastor read from the bible and describe heaven or the garden of adam and eve, that I had conjured up images just like the ones before me, and I had not seen a place so beautiful in my life beforehand. I had literally rode into heaven, and all at once I knew why Colombia was passion. Why so many people had fallen hopelessly in love with this land, apart from the people which complemented it so perfectly, for maybe people born in heaven were angels?

We continued our spectacular ride and I let my mare run when there were uphill or cross-hill parts, as oppose to downhill, which was just too hard for me. I could feel her joy when she jumped off the sections of dirt and onto the soft grass. She ran between trees, galloping with impressive force, and although listening to my direction, she took quick decisions to leap across holes, and up mounds, navigating the rocky terrain with wild perfection. I was so impressed by her natural perfection, in awe of the beauty of her machine. I felt myself travel back in time imagining the days of when these beautiful beasts covered the land, and rode freely. What a spectacular site it would be to see packs of wild horses...

After a couple hours we came to thick jungle where the horses could not pass and continued on foot. The walk was equally spectacular, and reminded me of the story of the secret garden. If it had not happened before, it was happing now. I was falling in love with Colombia.

We finally arrived at gorgeous water fall, of about maybe 40 meters in height. We changed and began to bath in its cold, exhilarating waters. The boys laughed and played, and we all had fun as the cool water rained down on us with a force that when in its center, was disorienting.

We spent the rest of the day climbing up and down the rivers smaller waterfalls, swimming in the pools, and just exploring. I was stunned to look up and see the cattle had been driven in to the zone surrounding the base of the large waterfall upstream, where we had started our bathing session. The sight was hysterically comical and breathtakingly beautiful at the same time. More than a dozen of wide-eyed cuties looking down at me from the top of a small waterfall, and beneath the large waterfall, surrounded by rocky, jungle magic. What a sight!!

After all the wet fun, we climbed back through the jungle paradise to our horses and mounted once again. This time I let my girl gallop most of the way home to the point I nearly fell. She was eager to run, and even more so to go home, but I had her do circles, doubling back as to wait for the others that were slow.

One unfortunate event did occur, as she was running, there were cattle everywhere, usually running out of the way, but then there were two little calves, which she, nor I, could manage to avoid in the scuffle. She ran over one of the small preciouses and into the mother in nearly full speed. I of course tried to stop her but it was too late. We were fine, but I think she injured the little calf's leg, and I saw him limping afterwards; it made me feel bad.

Eventually we all made it back to the farm to enjoy our large late lunch, it was more like dinner time now. Soup, meat, potatoes, rice, salad, friend bananas, and fresh mandarin juice from the mandarins that were picked that morning.

We later took a walk to the stable where I entered the pen of about a dozen calves and was surrounded by love. At first they were terrified, but there was one that wanted to snuggle. He wanted me to pet him and I did, and then another came, and another, until I had three little calves nuzzling and sniffing me, and one be can to lick me. He licked my hand and then my arm, and then my neck, and then my hair, and then he tried to chew my forearm, and back to lick my neck, while the other calf sniffed my nose. It was incredibly enchanting and adorable, I could not stop myself from laughing and giggling.

This had been one of the best days of my life.

After that I had the displeasure of them brutally slaughter a turkey, and several chickens for the Colombian picnic we were going to have the next day.

I then did a little light yoga to stretch out the days soreness, and after a pleasant shower, I had a beer and a quick bite to eat with my new friends and the farm hands, before heading off to bed. My sleep was better that night.

The following morning after a quick breakfast we were on the move. Everybody piled into the truck, and I mean everybody. There were about 10 in the actual car, and at least another 10 or 15 on the outside in the back. We were heading out for our picnic, we stopped in Chima, a tiny picturesque town, where farmers still pulled up in horses, and where the old courtyard in the town center, in front of the old church, was filled with giant ceiba trees with hanging vines. This place was so lovely, so tranquil, like travelling decades back in time...

After picking up some more food we headed off down the windy mountain roads, passing secret magic corners of the earth, until finally we arrived to a river.

I set up my hammock between two trees above the river bank, and Ramon and Jorge came by so attentive as usual, asking me which of my two husbands would I like to serve me. Would I like a beers is there anything I need? Service made for a princess, could it get better??..

But besides that, everybody at the picnic was really kind and attentive- I suppose the definition of Colombian is hospitable. So nice, so generous, so considerate, so.... no hay palabras.

I went for a walk in the stunning paradise. There really are no words that can do justice to the perfect beauty of what I saw. I was in the garden of eden with its gentlest stewards.

Later on I went for a swim in the rapid current of the river, well really I just hand on to a rock while the water swirled around my body. I then climbed a hot rock in the middle of the warm paradise and fell asleep. I was only woken when one of my stewards came to over me yet another beverage.

Maybe I forgot to mention of what a Colombian bbq or rather picnic consists of. Well, basically parts of I don’t know how many animals are put into a large pot with water and vegetables- and when I saw large I mean large!!! Much more than enough to feed 25 persons. We had killed several animals last night, and then bought a few more on the way. The soup was ready and it was time to eat. Most of the meat tasted gamy, with a wild taste that I was not use to. I tried to eat it but soon noticed that I really didn’t like it. In fact I found the taste quite disgusting but the rest of the gang seemed to love it.

So all in all we spent the day, drinking, eating, basking in the sun, and swimming in the river. The most notable thing about the day, besides the exquisite beauty of the landscape, was the incredibly warm hospitality of these Colombians. Remarkably attentive, thoughtful, and generous.
Anyways, as the sun started to set we packed up and all 25 plus piled onto the truck. A few of the boys were so drunk that they fell off the truck I think about 6 or 7 or maybe 8 times. We had to keep stopping to pick them up, and the next day you better believe they were limping and hobbling around.

On the way back we stopped in Chima (the small town), because Ramon being, the above and beyond host, wanted to show me a traditional Colombian game called.... tejo or something, where you throw clay disks in order to try to explode little packets of gunpowder in order to get points. -and then came more rounds of beer... no please!!!

In truth I was exhausted and just wanted to go to sleep, as much as I appreciated all the fussing over
trying to show me the best time. -and its true that these days with Jorge, Ramon and his family, were
fast becoming my happiest, most fulfilling days in Colombia. These guys had given me so much more
then they were aware of, and I was so grateful, in a way I could not express.


When I said I was tired- bamn, we left and went home- wow, I was stunned. Service fit for a queen, but
with such love that could only be explained in some spiritual realm, for it wasn’t romantic or associated with an agenda, or provoked by anything I had done, in fact it wasn’t even a special love just for me, it was the love that made Colombia so special, it was a love born from some natural place in a world where it was normal to LOVE your neighbour as described in the bible. -and I was feeling this secret love, not just from my friends but nearly everyone I met, an incredible feeling! If there was such a thing as God’s country, one certainly got the impression that this was it - but of course this was only the Colombia I was getting to know, excluding the notorious history of violence that has accompanied this great country’s past, and continues to live on in remote parts.

Nevertheless, I was beginning to fall in love with this place, looking at the luscious rolling mountains as if they were my lover’s eyes, caressing them with my gaze in the same way I would run my fingers through his hair.
The next day was the beginning of another heavenly experience. We went horse ridding again. They put me on the mare Jorge had rode last time and it made me a little nervous, for I knew she was a nervous girl. However, soon I got the hand of her, and realized she was a well-tempered beast with a smoother gait, force to run, but patience to hold back and walk. We went on a elaborate walk through the country side passing all the gayaba, lemon, and orange orchards, until we came to a farm, where the trail turned into a narrow path marked by large stones. As we moved along the large stones began to drop forming a rather steep long staircase that zig-zagged down between thick jungle a few hundred meters or so before reaching a small gate that opened up to rolling valleys, broken up by trees, gulleys, and creeks. The horses had a little trouble slipping their way down the stairs, but none the less I was impressed how well they negotiated the terrain, despite their obvious fear.

When we reached the gate, I saw a beautiful small grey horse that seemed wild and free, no reigns or nothing. A couple of the ranch hands got off their horses and went over to him. They grabbed his main and saddled him up with an extra saddle they had brought. Jorge told me this horse was a male, and not a mare, and had never been neutered and so that’s why he was acting strange, sniffing and making funny faces. I asked if it was dangerous to ride him, and he said, no, as long as there is no mare in heat in sight.

The next thing I knew they were calling for me- apparently he was the horse I was going to ride now. No way!! I was too scared, what if he went crazy, what if this... what if that... No! After protesting for a while they finally gave in and Jorge got on, but I soon realized what they said was true. The fabulous creature had an amazingly even gate, and what they called here, paso fino. He seemed incredibly docile to ride. Ok, I’m sorry, give him back!! I want to ride him!

No too bad, Jorge said, teasing me. We descended the mountain and crossed a small valley and creek, until we passed a gate where the cattle were. “Jorge, give me the horse, please... please... I want to try him...” “no, no, no”, but it wasn’t a moment later until, to my delight, Ramon instructed Jorge to give me the horse, almost like a refree between children, but rather like the powerful owner of all the horses, cattle, and land. “Vivian’s going to heard the cattle, give her the horse”. WOW! Really? How?

I mounted the sweet creature and his pace was so fine I could barely feel the rocky uneven terrain. Off we started towards the cattle, myself with the other cowboys. My dream was finally coming true!! I was a cow girl, wow!

“Go take that side, and bring that stray in over there!,” one of the cowboys instructed me. -and off we went at first in a quick trot (but smooth), however when my graceful beast felt us nearing in on the cattle, his spirit changed, and his power grew. His stride quickened into an incredibly smooth and powerful gallop. We thundered down one hill, and up across the next. He weaved the terrain so seamlessly, and quickly, that I barely noticed the massive ditch that he leaped across, ridding the air better than he rode the ground. Wow, wee!!! How cool was this! Woouuuuw, there, slow down big guy, before we fly into the thicket of trees..

We turned the corner and stared into the big stray bull’s eyes. The bull instantly filled with panic and ran in the direction we wanted, and my horse picked up his pace. We chased the bull towards the heard, jumping the gulley’s and rocks, dodging the trees and bushes. WOW! -and up, up, up, the steep mountain side, up the rocks, up, up, ok slow down beauty!!! Wow, what a ride! But the precious listened. He had power, he had grace, he had spirit, he had passion, he had speed, and impressive skill, what an animal. I absolutely fell in LOVE with this horse.

After herding the cattle to take them to a salt lick, we started our journey back. My horse and I ran off, leaving the group. We ran up the mountain, and across, and up, until his breath became heavy and forced. I pull the reigns in and gave him a rest, but we were running according to his will. Maybe I had this horse ridding thing backwards but I wanted to make him happy. He was so cute, and good! We continued up and then doubled back to join the group. Eventually, we all clamoured back up the steep stairs- how exotic! We got to the top and began the long ride back to the farm.

They put little Sebastian (Ramon’s son, age 8) and an old veteran horse with no brake in his mouth, and his other son, Danny (age 6) and a mule. Danny was managing his mule so well it made me laugh, as it was quite cute, however poor Sebastian was having more than a difficult time. It wasn’t long before his horse galloped far off ahead and out of sight (with him up top and out of control). No one was around to help, as Ramon was way back on foot, and Jorge was going was too slow, and the ranch hands were out of sight, so I took it upon myself to save the little bugger. “heeahhh!”- it was something like a movie, as I galloped up the winding dirt road at top speed, negotiating the sharp turns, going up, up, and up, faster, faster, with the galloping sounds and the wind, and everything, until finally after about 5 minutes I reached Sebastian on his horse that was now trotting, with him weeping tears of fear in a full out hysteric. Sebastian! Give me your reigns! Give me your reigns! Finally, I got a hold of the short reigns and pulled his horse in with my right arm strong, and mine with the left, using my horse to stop the old beast that didn’t even have a mouth bit (the thing you use to brake them)! Wow.... We came to full stop, Sebastian sobbing away, Vivian, Vivian, save me, help me, don’t leave me, Vivian, I almost fell, I was holding his hair, he wouldn’t stop... etc. I consoled the little bugger and held the horse until others FINALY came, like after about 15 minutes.

We then continued home, and after a few more wild gallops I dismounted and hugged my horse. I snuggled my face to his face, and he seemed so soft and gentle, like a teddy bear. It seemed as if he liked it. Oh how I would wish and dream for a horse like this!

I think I realized why I loved horse riding so much (with the right horse). Because I myself had discovered (only in the past year), the joy of running. I use to hate it, but finally when I reached the condition that running didn’t physically annoy me, it became for me, something like, when I started to run, the more I wanted to run, the faster, the more objects I had to jump over, and weave through, the better, I could feel my spirit being free, in its natural state, my heart beating fast, my whole body coordinating like a wonderful machine, coordinating to move me faster, and faster, and with each coordinated movement, the ground rushing backwards beneath my feat, the wind in my hair, the sun on my body, and everything pumping and circulating within my body with such vitality and awesome ruggedness. When I was on top of a beast, a big and beautiful beast, that loved to run, I could feel that crazy spirit that drives that animal to run, that gives it joy, that indescribable feeling of releasing the explosion that’s suppressed within, and with some horses, like this one I could almost feel a connection, as if we were running together, and both our hearts were singing with joy. Plus there was also the added component of fear and adrenaline, of not quite knowing what my animal was thinking or what he would do, and of knowing that despite my supposed control, he really had all the power, and that as much as I needed to control him, I also had to let go and trust him, just like jumping of the cliff to go parapenting.

Well anyways, after a beautiful day’s ridding, we bathed the horses. It was now dark and the perfect time to sneak away and practice karate, but it wasn’t long before the kids found me and begged for lessons... ahhh... the story of my travelling life... ok. Sebastian, I will instruct you four basic kicks and two punches, ok?

An hour later, and was pleased with my studious, talented, and obedient pupil. I felt sorry for him too, because he really showed talent and great enthusiasm to learn, but I knew his parents would never send him to karate class. -and when he tried to show his new moves to his father, he was ignored, as he was most of the time (probably an explanation for his otherwise bratty behaviour). Up until that point I suppose I had favoured the cute and cuddly Danny, (6 year old) who was incredibly considerate and kind for his age- a perfect child. Sabastian (8) was usually disobedient and annoying, but here we had made our first bond and things would now be different. He asked me to make him one of my famous large sandwiches that were filled with vegetables, and I told him I would do so in the morning (which I did).

I had left overs for dinner, a few beers and turned in.

Early next morning I made Sebastian his sandwich, and felt so good about how much it pleased him. He really enjoyed it as he was not use to fresh vegetables, and loved them. Wow, can adopt you?? I actually felt I could adopt both boys, they were such good kids, well Danny was, but I was up for Sebastian’s challenge, he would come around with the right attention, and more consistent parenting. -Anyways, after a long ride back to Bucaramanga, a quick coffee stop in San Gill, (Jorge got out in Curriti along the way) Ramon and the kids dropped me at the airport, as I was going to Cali. We had a couple of last minute obleas (incredible sweet caramilk treats, typical of the region), and said goodbye.

Thank you so much Ramon, for an incredible, incredible time. Immense hospitality!

Leaving Bucaramanga, I knew I had fallen helplessly in love with Colombia, and in particular, Santander.

Now- off to Cali, where nights are spent dancing hot and heavy salsa!

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