During this particular visit I did have a camera- of the poorest quality. The two children in the home where I stayed couldn’t get enough of taking photos of themselves and their mother. Then turing it around to see themselves on the digital screen. I didn’t make it out of the Laguna with that camera, but I hope they have been able to document many more smiling faces and family memories. Here is the entry from August 19, 2011, my first excursion in Colombia.
Yesterday I arrived in Colombia. I’ve been dreading this border crossing. So many people told me stories of their buses hiding in pullouts on the side of the road, waiting for the gunfire to subside further up. Its not uncommon for buses to get commandeered by thugs on this route, and that’s the last things I need. ( the Guerrilla is still very prevalent in this part of Colombia). I made it safely to Pastos though. I think it was just a little bit of my own nerves, but my first few hours in this city were pretty stressful. This place never sees tourist. Luckily, I found a nice hotel , and the woman is very protective. I appreciate this so much while traveling alone.
This week in Pastos is the cultural festival for the Narino provence. At their cultural center they have art displayed from all regions of the provence. Exhibits of intricately carved musical instruments, and colorfully woven bags. Against the hotel receptionist advice I went to the central plaza where there was a concert of different Narino region music. They had Andino music- like I heard in Bolivia. Very heavy on the wind instruments. This was different & better because they added more rhythm to it. Cumbia and Afro-Colombiano groups performed too. Everyone was dancing and enjoying the liveliness of the evening. I’d heard this about Colombia- “in Colombia you are always dancing” other travelers told me.
I made friends with three Colombians in the plaza. They were drinking this terrible alcoholic beverage, aquadiente, a type of street hooch that a woman was selling out of a 5 Qt pot. It was warm and stronger than any of the other street beverages I’ve had. Ooo, to be polite I drank my cup. Then, one of the guys tried to teach me how to salsa in the plaza and we all decided it was past time to get to the salsa club.
At the club they ordered a pitcher of the horrible hooch. It just wasn’t in me to drink any more of it. Mary and her boyfriend ( my hosts) were excellent salsa dancers. They were patient teaching me the basics. I didn’t think I’d be 12 hours in Colombia and already dancing salsa. It was now time for me to leave, and Mary insisted she escort me by taxi to my hotel 4 blocks away. It was too risky to walk alone across the plaza. Sometimes I think I’ve become too comfortable in my independence while traveling.
The next morning I got in the combi bus that took me to the Laguna. A spectacular drive through the southern Colombian mountains landed me in a picturesque village. There was one narrow dirt road through town, and the length of it could be walked in 10 mins. Homes line the narrow inlet channel that is serviced by water taxis providing transportation to other communities across the lake. Connecting the channel are quaint foot bridges that give access to those living on the other side. I found the most rustic of accommodations ( I mean a bed made of hay), but the lack of amenities was compensated by generosity and little people giggles.
In the morning I took a taxi ride out to the Island in the middle of the lake. I was lucky to share my boat with a group of tourists from Bogata who were patient with my new understanding of Colombian dialect, and thrilled to pieces I was there to see their country! They bombarded me with questions, and told me over and again how much I would love Colombia. In addition to the warnings given to me by fellow travelers about Colombians always “bailando” they told me of their over whelming kindness. I feel it already! They say the only risk in going to Colombia is not wanting to leave.... I’m in danger!
