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Published: June 26th 2008
There should be a Kids book.
My first Border Crossing.
Lord knows I needed a guide.
Well fellow folk, I have left Venezuela and made it to Colombia, though not without incident. I can see why the European Union was a good idea if for no other reason than to curb the rampant corruption and frustration at the border. Not to mention the currency. I am confused about that too...
I am happy to say that I was not picked on for anything because (as explained by the locals) ¨Soy Negro...¨ Gotta love reverse racism.
Bas wasn´t so lucky. He got put into a small room/cell twice and was forced to pay a small ¨entrance fee¨ of about $5 dollars. That sucked. And I (as a true friend) sat there and looked like I didn´t know him.
Because, Y´know, I´m Colombian and can´t be dealing with those Gringo Turistos.
I did feel bad though as Bas had pretty much funded my way across the border to keep me from having to pay another ATM fee and carry more Venezuelan Bolívares...which are pretty much useless 15 minutes from the Venezuelan Border. To you American Gringos, be glad that your Dollar is, as my British Friend Liam put it, ¨Bloody
Fisher Kids
At least one brought back lunch.useful currency¨. Still I refrained from paying the border agents in Dollars. That just didn´t seem to be the
intelligent course of action.
We ended up making it through with the help of a nice Colombiana named Solana. She told me to keep my mouth shut and say I was from Valencia if asked. She claimed Bas as her friend and tried to keep the Border agents looking the other way.
In the end, I´d come up with a story how I was a student from the States (where I live with my father), but my Mother´s family lives in Barranquilla and I was going to visit them and learn about my roots.
Lying to border control agents should be illegal.
Oh. Right. It is.
Anywho...
18 hours, three buses, one cab and a short walk later, I find myself on a Beach that would have been deserted if not for the hordes of Israeli travellers. It was still beautiful.
Taganga, Colombia
It was apparent crossing the border that Colombia was cleaner than Venezuela, but the lack of trash on the street in no way prepared me for the warmth of the people here. Everyone talks, chats and laughs. It´s a stark contrast from Venezuela where it was
Open Air Butchery
This Was a Restaurant.
I ate here. hard to start a conversation, or even get a ¨hola¨ nod in return.
So far I have been offered drugs (both green and white) by a Circus clown, gotten a 10 dollar beach massage and drunk (multiple) bottles of rum on the street corner till dawn with locals.
I think I am going to like it here.
Tomorrow I am going to get lost in the Jungle. Well hopefully not literally, but I am going to for trek (for 6 days!) to Ciudad Perdida aka the Lost City. I am gonna get my Indy Jones on!
Now where the hell in Taganga can I find a Bull whip and fedora?
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Monette
non-member comment
I'm not hatin', really
You're making it hard to keep to my settled, suburban, two-kids-and-the-house life, brother man. Please, every day, say, "This one's for mo." Ok?