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Published: January 29th 2008
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I really had no idea that Colombia would be so beautiful, lively, cultured and modern at the same time. I had a vague idea about Bolivia even though it turned out to be so much more, but thinking back I don't remember seeing any images or descriptions of Columbia before coming here, I guess the world is just discovering it.
I spent another few days in Taganga and another few nights in El Garage before deciding to go with Karen, Marlien, Bruno and Nelson (two locals) to a beach near the village of Palomino where Nelsons uncle ‘El Negro’ has a finca. Its quite isolated and has no electricity or water so I spent a day with Nelson and Bruno stocking up on supplies like candles and drinking water in Santa Marta before we headed off on the bus.
There seems to be a cultural custom here which is a bit hard to swallow. If you invite someone to do something or go somewhere with you then you basically foot the bill for the duration. Mayra’s brother Antonio had invited her to Taganga and so therefore he was paying for everything including her accommodation, so when he left her and she
stayed on with Gary (something she conveniently avoided to mention to him!) he was expected to pay for her. Gary got fed up of her and she left in a huff just before we went off to Palomino ....but I get back to that later.
Anyway the long and short of it is that even though we didn't strictly invite Bruno and Nelson to come with us, it was more kind of a coincidence as they were going anyway, as gringos we were the ones who were paying. I am kind of struggling with this as obviously its not really fair, but then again nor is it fair that their economy is so poor and we can all come in and throw our money around for a year, then swan off back home and find another job. Also in a place like Columbia, being under the wing of a local ‘friend’ is very reassuring even if it is only psychological, and you do get to experience their lifestyles and go to places that you wouldn’t find otherwise. So I think I will have to think of it as buying their services. If I don't want to pay then I just
wont make any Colombian friends.
So anyway we spent 3 days at the finca just hanging out, cooking dinner on the fire etc. And it was a beautiful place....but there was a strange kind of atmosphere. Maybe it was a product of the money situation but also Nelson was in a strange mood and left after one day, and I maybe just needed some time to myself after the hecticness of the last few weeks. Nelsons uncle Fransisco was an odd type too and there was also a crazy french guy called Fabian who was left in charge when Fransisco went back to Taganga. All together it added up to a strange tension which kind of spoilt what should have been a tranquil haven.
I spent my birthday there and Karen and Marlien made me breakfast and I got some earrings and a lolly pop for my present. I spent most of the day on the beach doing crochet and then we had a fire on the beach and we all sat around trying listen to another french guy who was really good on the drums while the Colombians all bashed out crazy rhythms on saucepans and sang gangsta rap.
They didn't quite get it.
In fact they don't quite get the pleasure of relaxing music in the background here. Its all massive stereo systems playing reggeton and crap pop at full volume at any hour of the day or night! For such a culturally amazing country in terms of music its amazing how terrible it can be sometimes. The street outside the apartment in Taganga seemed to be full of families trying to outdo each other in terms of speaker volume and the music often started at 4 am and went on till midday!
On our return to Santa Marta I left the others in order to do some souvenir shopping and take a few last photos of the place. I have been having a bit of a nightmare with shopping here, I have got to the point in my travels where my clothes are falling apart and my underwear is all grey so I have been trying to replace some of them, but no bras or bikinis here seem to go up to my size (or at least none of the ones I would be seen dead in - they have a penchant for neon day glow colours
and horrendous patterns here),
I finally found some nice white bras in the huge supermarket here called Exito which means Success in Spanish (hows that for suggestive marketing), but just the next day whilst reading my book on the beach somebody stole the plastic shopping bag with my clothes and new flip flops in!! I couldn't believe it I was literally right there next to them, I wasn't even in the water. I had to walk back to my landlady's house with my towel round me and borrow some of her flip flops to get up the hill to the apartment. So now I’m back down to one white bra again and I need some new shorts now!! I think I might win the prize for tourist robbed in the strangest ways here.
So we had just one more night out at El Garage before I finally managed to get back on the road and drag myself to Cartagena, it was a bittersweet parting but jeez I needed some peace and quiet for a while.
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