Anyone for Chi-Cha and a tattoo or 5?
Trip Start
Dec 26, 2006
1
32
90
Trip End
Dec 25, 2007
Tierradentro,
Colombia
Monday, May 7, 2007
Deciding to ignore the "Going Soft with the Lonley Planet" warnings on "guerilla presence, killings and kidnappings of locals" as in reality there appeared as much chance of that as a restaurant recommended in the LP being still open for business, I headed across from Popoyan to Tierradentro. One feature of the Colombian bus trip is the obligatory stop at a roadside diner for food. This trip saw us stop on a high mountaintop road at a house in the middle of nowehere where we all got off, chugged down the soup and mystery meat, used the toilet as I have yet to ride a Colombian bus that had a key to the toilet (think desert, think oasis, think torture) and for that matter an overhead light that worked. And in case anyone is curious, the trip had more sheer drops down ridiculously green valleys and the odd waterfall or five making the road crossing that bit more challenging for the driver
01 - Popoyan to Tierradentro, is anyone home?
. Another feature of any bus ride in Colombia (and the trip so far) is the influx of locals peddling food and drink at any stop. La Plata was no exception as the locals ambushed the bus with empanada´s, icecreams, drinks, homemade potato chips, fruit salads and pretty much anything else that could be carried on. It is not uncommon for two or three locals all vying to sell the same thing, surrounding you with baskets of empanadas and making you either refuse them all or undertake the awkward task of choosing one over the rest. This results in a happy vendor and two others cursing under their breath. Arriving in El Cruce de San Andreas and trekking into Tierradentro for half an hour saw me arrive at Nan and Pop´s accomodation, Residencias Lucerna just as they were in the process of drying the last of their coffee beans, or were they really coffee beans I asked myself as I became familiar with their attack dog named Condor! Deciding to leave Nan and Pop to their illicit operation I headed up into the hills to grab some sun and admire the archaelogical site known as Tierradentro. Why so famous, well it has the only examples of underground burial chamers in the whole of the Americas, dug out on the slopes and tops of the hills. The dome-like chambers are suppoerted by massive pillars and the detail inside in both red (life) and black (death) is remarkably well preserved. It helps when you are seemingly the only tourist in
town and the guide gives you an in-depth tour of the place, even if it did mean interrupting his game of dominoes with his amigo
02 - And with more endurance than a donkey!
. After walking back down to town with the guides at the end of the day, my 8th day without sighting another traveller, or for that matter, speaking English, I decided to head up the hill to San Andreas de Pisimbala, home of the sole restaurant in the area. Being the only foreigner in a town in Colombia is a cue for the local kids to gather around and start to pick your brans about everything from who you are, where you come from, where is your wife (at home minding the kids of course!), what do you think of Colombia, what soccer team do you follow and why are you not working. San Andreas no exception as the four young lads playing football noticed the tall, white guy taking photos of their town and quickly came to investigate. Like kids anywhere they are really inquisitive and cannot get the words of the questions out fast enough, a problem I do not suffer from when responding to them in Spanish. An hour later, after their mums came and got them for dinner I realised it was time to do the same for my stomach and decided on a romantic dinner for one, complete with candle! One soon became two as the cooks husband came home and joined me for dinner, and in true Colombian style both Leonardo and his wife fussed over me like I was one of their children, albeit an older, unmarried version of their children. And with electricity at a premium, I walked the half hour back by torchlight down the hill to Nan and Pop who had by now removed all evidence of their illicit activities, however Condor still barked randomly at anything that moved, including this 6ft 2 traveller.
Sunday saw me grab the standard juice, mora y banano con leche from the little old lady across the road before tackling El Aguacate, a burial sight high on the mountain ridge
03 - And to think "Mingas" were an ancient race!
. And as I took the first of many stops to catch my breath at altitude I spotted the first traveller for days, and here was hoping they had english as a first, second or third language. And so it was I met Niamh from Ireland, and yes, she spoke English as well as damn fine Spanish...and so it was that the only two tourists in the whole area climbed El Aguacate together. Half expecting to come across coca crops guarded by rabid attack dogs, the reality was far less exciting, a family washing in the river as we struggled to find a path heading back into town. And what is Sunday afternoon in Colombia without an invitation from the locals to share in their love of chi-cha, fermented maize with an alcoholic kick. So there we were in the main street of San Andreas with ten of our new local amigo´s sharing in the tradition that is chi-cha. The stuff is poured into a big plastic bowl and if you are holding the bowl it is your job to distribute the chi-cha amongst the local men, women and children. Sharing a couple of plastic cups is the go and the technique is a quick skull leaving a little in the bottom to throw back onto the ground before passing the cup back. When there happen to be about four bowls of chi-cha on the go and a dozen people, you are lucky if you go five minutes without chuggng back the chi-cha. And after two hours of skulling chi-ha, while not the most alcoholic drink going around, the effects start from the head down to the shaky legs. The locals were fantastic company and could not stop smiling, a cue to bring out the camera. The smiles then turned into laughter as they all lined up to have their photo´s taken with us. The best was Arcenio and his wife, he of the straight face and she off the cheeky, infectious laugh everytime the shutter snapped. Gold!
It was while under the influence of chi-cha that I decided to do what I have wanted to get done for back home for ages, a tattoo
04 - Stairway to heaven
. Except not being able to decide on one design I instead opted for five from the local tattoo artists, who whilst young appeared to know exactly what they were doing which was very reassuring. I opted for a couple on the left arm and three on the right in what looked like the perfect combination. And so it came to be that I had a dolphin, toucan and heart with dagger on the right and what appeared to be (in my chi-cha induced haze) Shaggy lying in a hammock and a beetle on my left arm. The colours and detail looked absolutely amazing due to the correct application of spit and pressure administered by the local kids, as they madly chewed on the gum from which the tattoos had been obtained. And just like the grown-ups they insisted of photos, about an hours worth of photos as Niamh and I cracked up every time the kids ran back to view themselves, their faces lighting up as they in turn cracked up with laughter, before running back to assume another crazy position, and yes, rabbit ears above another kids head is a universal Kodak moment. Our day finished like the one previous, by candlelight, except Niamh had taken the place of Leonardo, although at one stage he did pull up a chair to make dinner for three seem a distinct possibility. So after farewelling Leonardo and his great chef of a wife (can you tell I have no idea what her name was?) it was grab the torch for our return journey down the hill, say farewell to Niamh and thank god for my rabies shots as I negotiated a town of stray dogs, the craziest waiting for me at Nan and Pop´s place.
Days like these with the people of Colombia make Colombia the amazing place that it is.
