Our home for 2015, Barranquilla
We are home. After a year in Colombia, a month in Peru and a few days in New York City, I am back in Johannesburg, wondering what to do next. Instead of concentrating on the future, however, I find myself reflecting more on the year that has passed. And I have to admit: Colombia, I miss you. Continue reading
After living in Colombia, or Barranquilla more specifically, for almost a year now, I feel like I’ve mostly assimilated to the Costeño attitude and lifestyle. While I still stand out like a sore thumb due to my low level of Spanish and Gringo appearance, I’ve probably become as laid back and carefree as most of the coast-dwelling folk. With that said, I still get frustrated with some of (a lot of, actually) the ways they do things. Some frustrations I can acredit to cultural differences, but many things appear completely illogical. On my year long adventure, I’ve noticed many idiosyncrasies and I’ve compiled a list of those most infuriating. Now, this does have to come with a disclaimer so that I don’t offend or give anyone the wrong idea. I see things from my sheltered, South African perspective, so many of these examples may seem pretty ordinary to you.
Cali, the capital of Colombia’s Valle del Cauca department, is a city full of character and spirit. It was the last stop on our June trip, where we spent just two days before flying back to Barranquilla. The country’s Afro-Colombian heritage is really evident in Cali, where the people are warm and passionate, and the city buzzes with a seductive energy. Continue reading
Our two-week escape from the Colombian coast feels like an eternity ago. Well, it really has been ages now, since I’ve been quite useless when it comes to keeping this blog updated. Continue reading
After five days in Medellín, we left the big city and set out for the Colombian countryside. On our two hour bus ride, we watched lush green hills roll past the windows before arriving in the small town of Guatapé. This pueblo is built along the banks of a reservoir, created when the government flooded the area in the 1970s. Apparently, at the bottom of the lake somewhere lies the original town of Guatapé – a casualty of the nation’s hydroelectric power needs.
A two week vacation recently marked the halfway point of this year-long Colombian adventure. It was a holiday that I desperately needed after all the work I’d been doing last semester. Hah.
This trip saw us venturing inland, leaving the costeños behind and travelling to the land of the paisas. We hopped on an early flight to Medellín on June 20th with the low-cost airline Viva Colombia, and flew back from Cali fourteen days later. Stepping off the plane, we were instantly relieved to escape the suffocating heat and humidity of the coast, and from there things just kept getting better. Continue reading
Source: 7deadlymag.com
There is one aspect of life in Colombia that is driving me crazy: street harassment. It might be an issue all over the world (although I’ve never had any real problem in South Africa), but here in Colombia it is unbelievably ubiquitous and is impossible to ignore.
In the short time I’ve been living in here, I’ve come to dread going anywhere alone. When I do have to walk down the street on my own, almost every man I pass feels entitled to stare, hiss, or call out to me. They whistle at you from their cars, hoot as you walk past, open their windows to make kissing noises and hiss “princessa”. Often the cat-calling is “harmless” – although clearly it’s not, since I feel so angry and violated – but sometimes the tone of their voice and glare in their eye is challenging and aggressive. And in a country where sexism and sexual violence are a major problem, it’s indicative of a mentality that will always dismiss the idea of gender equality.
Although I have yet to do any real work in Barranquilla, we recently had our first week of holiday. There are so many places we want to visit in Colombia, but for the week of Semana Santa we decided to keep things local and explore the coastal region.
Last Saturday morning, five of us volunteers met at the bus station and left for Santa Marta. It was a relatively uneventful experience, although we had underestimated the queues of people we would find at the station, as everyone fled the city in search of sun and sea in Santa Marta. Once we’d hopped off the bus, we dawdled on the side of the road for a few minutes deliberating on how best to get to Taganga – a small village about fifteen minutes outside the city. We decided that a taxi between us would amount to the same as a bus, and so the five of us squashed in and off we went.
It’s still somewhat surreal.
During orientation, sequestered as we were at an isolated hotel forty-five minutes outside of Bogotá, it was easy to forget that after travelling for twenty-four hours, we had ended up on the other side of the world. We spent two weeks at Hotel Xué Sabana where we brushed up on our teaching skills, got to know some of the other volunteers, and learned a bit about Colombian culture.
escaping stasis 