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Published: September 25th 2009
It's 11pm and we're exhausted from a long day of flying and driving to our destination of Claraibeth's hometown in Boyaca. We settle in under many layers of blankets in bed; it will get down to 48 degrees tonight.
It's 12:30am. Reggaeton music pulses in the background as the central square to the small town is one street over, and there is a festival this weekend. A d.j. on stage keeps the crowd going strong. I try to fall back asleep.
It's 2:30am. The d.j. makes one last announcement to end his set on stage. I wake up momentarily to the short speech on the microphone. Back to sleep.
POP! POP, POP, POP! CRACK! WHIZ, POP, POP, POP! It's 4:15am. Is someone hammering metal on the roof of the house? Are we being attacked? Should I grab Monte's arm and hit the floor? It takes me a few seconds to remember that Claraibeth said before bed, "Oh, yeah... you might hear some fireworks from drunk people at the festival." And luckily for us, the beautiful mountains surrounding the town provide excellent echoing acoustics for such firecrackers. It's oppressively loud. We lie in bed almost laughing in disbelief at
Purple corn
I've never tried so many different types of corn and potatoes as I have in Colombia.the crazy sounds of Cerinza in the night. At 4:30am, the firecrackers finally cease.
It's 6am. The sun is rising, and a marching band begins a parade through the streets to ring in the morning. I am in awe that a town celebrates the sun coming up. It's our first night in Cerinza and I have to wonder, does anyone ever sleep here?
Yesterday, we took the short flight from Medellin to Bogota where an entourage of Boadas (Claraibeth's parents, siblings, nieces, and nephews) awaited our arrival. A rented bus transported our crowd of 16 on the 4 hour drive to the countryside. A hearty meal of massive grilled steaks, corn, potatoes, and
platanos maduros at a restaurant near the airport started our trip out on the right foot. We were entertained on the bus by a dvd of Michael Jackson music videos. Monte rolled his eyes; I loved it. The kids aged 3-13 were mesmerized into silence by Smooth Criminal and Billie Jean.
We arrived after nightfall to Cerinza, population approx. 11,000. Maybe 3/4 of that population is out celebrating in the streets, mainly in the central plaza, around a stage. We wrapped ourselves up in sweaters
and ruanas (a poncho like wrap) to walk to the square and check out the festival. Some of the familiar music almost made me want to dance, but I was so tired.
Mr and Mrs. Boada's house (Maruja and Ignacio) is right behind the town's school and in the center is a greenhouse full of plants and flowers. Maruja is an avid gardener and an amazing seamstress, who's work can be seen all throughout the house from crocheted tablecloths, to pillows, and even the adorable ruanas, hats, and scarves her granddaughters wear when it's cold at night. I was lucky to get a scarf and hat to take home with me. Ignacio is technically retired, but you wouldn't know it since he wakes up by 4:30am everyday to tend to his nearby land and livestock. In fact, by the time we sit down for breakfast, he is almost finshed with a day's work on the land. He has many acres and many cows to keep him busy on a daily basis. No one is safe from his good natured joking and teasing. Even the language barrier does not hinder our understanding of his playful sense of humor.
We
Michael Jackson's Video Library
Watching dvds on the bus to Cerinza started out today with a different type of breakfast. Hot chocolate is more common here than coffee in the morning, and the traditional way to serve it is with a thick slice of white cheese melting into gooeyness at the bottom of the mug. It seems weird, but the saltiness of the otherwise mild farmer's cheese (similar to mozzarella) really creates a taste effect not unlike a chocolate-covered pretzel. Along with the beverage was a cheese bread called
pandebono, and scrambled eggs with corn (one of Monte's favorites so far).
The rest of the afternoon and morning consisted of touring
pequeñas ciudades bonitas, cute little towns, in the surrounding area of Boyaca. Most of these little towns had the same set-up: a central plaza or square with a fountain, a cathedral, benches and flowering trees, encircled by narrow streets of artisans and craftsmen selling handmade hammocks, ruanas, decorations, and trinkets. We found great gifts to take home and sampled all sorts of specialty treats along the way like
feijoa candies,
bocadillos,
platanos asados con bocadillos y queso,
lulo (naranjilla) juice, and sabajon (I can't even find a good link, but it's like an eggnog with brandy. Traditionally it's flavored with feijoa or coffee. I thought
The town of Cerinza
The town's name is native Indian in origin. It's colonial history includes hosting the great liberator Simon Bolivar for a night on his way to fight for independence. it tasted like Bailey's).
Our tour took us through Belen, Duitama, Nobsa, Tibasosa, and Paipa. In the last stop we took a dip in the thermal springs pool for which the town is famous. Claraibeth and I were excited about mineral mud facials, but the spa part was closed that night.
Talking about the hot springs pool reminds me of an observation Monte and I have made throughout the trip. As a cultural difference, we noticed Colombians are much more into public displays of affection. This takes some getting used to for us prim and modest Americans. Everyone here hugs and kisses hello and goodbye and there's a much smaller
space bubble in general. People at the pool were just making out like they were in their own home, and even the locker room was for everyone altogether. We probably come off as rather prudish.
After the thermal springs pool, we stopped at a cafe to get warm pandebonos and similar cheese breads called
pandeyuca and
almojabanas. I am going to try to recreate all these breads when I get home. I can find them frozen sometimes at specialty markets, but there's no comparison to fresh baked.
The Boada House
You can tell this is Maruja's house because there are beautiful flowers everywhere. Back at the house we sipped on hot beverages to warm up before bed. I could see myself taking this habit home with me too for the winter. There is a picture of Claraibeth's brother, Renee, in our bedroom. He is currently working abroad in Africa, so we won't meet him, but Monte has nicknamed him Big Pun, and we jokingly like to think he will be watching over us in our sleep tonight, hopefully without too many loud interruptions...
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