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Showing posts with label adventure. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adventure. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Minka: The Preview

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If this seems oddly familiar, it's because several weeks ago I embarked on a weekend trip to a nearby town called Taganga and spent an entire week blogging about it, starting with a post called Taganga: The Trailer. I just had a 4-day weekend, surprisingly unrelated to Canadian Thanksgiving, and took a trip to another nearby town, this one a mountain village in the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta. I don't think I have a week of blog entries in me this time, but at least a couple of days.

Anyway, one of the first things that happened on the trip was mosquitoes. Tonight, I decided to count all the bites I was left with. Below is photo documentation of my methodology.



I counted 147.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Taganga Episode VII: Wrap-Up

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This week is "Taganga Week" at Xave's Xlog. Check it out:

What a week at the old Xlog! How did I stretch one weekend out of town into 7 full days of blogging, you ask? Well, it takes a special talent. I just have a knack for finding the boring in everything. Anyway, today's post is devoted to mentioning smaller things that weren't worthy of their own full post.

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I don't eat fish. Or any seafood. The reason is simply that I don't like it. However, I've never liked seafood, so I eat it so rarely I don't even know what some things taste like. Therefore, I've made it my mission to try some seafood while I'm living on a coast. So, on Saturday night, I had this for dinner:


This is a very common meal 'round these parts: fish (I don't know what kind), with lime to squeeze on top, coconut rice, patacones (fried green plantains - green meaning they're not sweet plantains), and a salad consisting mostly of lettuce and onions.

And at the risk of sounding totally cliché, it wasn't that bad! I almost ate the whole fish. I probably ate parts I wasn't supposed to eat, too.

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Anticipating I would do some hiking while in Taganga, I brought my running shoes along in addition to my sandals. But I forgot to bring socks. Good work, Dave. So, as it turns out, climbing a steep foothill with no paths while wearing sandals isn't the greatest idea. There were several occasions in which I nearly became an avalanche. H

Speaking of avalanches, here's a formation I found which I assumed to be the work of avalanches.


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I had a fun time getting home on Sunday. First I took a small bus from Taganga to Santa Marta, followed by a moto-taxi to the bus terminal in Santa Marta, followed by an inter-city bus to Barranquilla. All of these things were documented yesterday.

That wasn't the end of the journey, though. After retrieving my iPod, I was determined to figure out how to take the bus back to my part of Barranquilla rather than paying for a more expensive taxi. This proved difficult, as I got wildly varying opinions from the locals.

After a cat and mouse game of seeing the bus go by on the other side of the street and going to that side only to watch a bus zip by where I had just been standing, I decided to see how much the moto would cost. The first guy I asked flat out refused to go to where I wanted to go. The second guy quoted a price that was almost as high as taking a cab. Soon, I somehow found myself among a group moto drivers, asking all of them simultaneously if they would take me where I wanted to go at the price I wanted to pay. This was an unproductive bargaining session, because I just kept saying my price, and I'm pretty sure their response was something completely incongruous. Here is how the conversation might have gone (honestly, I have no idea):

Me: I need to go to Buena Vista.

Them: We don't go to Buena Vista.

Me: How about 5000 (pesos)?

Them: That's way lower than we would accept, even if we did drive people to Buena Vista. Generally, if you're trying to convince someone to perform a service for you that is outside of their regular duties, it's not a good idea to make your offer less attractive in an attempt to convince them to perform said service.

Me: What if I paid you 5000?

Them: You already said that.

Me: 5000? Yes? No?

Them (to each other): Maybe he means 5000 dollars? I wouldn't put it past this guy to actually pay us 5000 dollars.

Me: Do you go to Buena Vista? What about for 5000?

One of Them: okay, just get on, I'll take you to, umm, Buena Vista, yeah, haha, that's right. Cough.

Me: 5000, right?

That Guy: yeah, um, right.

So anyway, That Guy drove me a few blocks (for 2000 - $1), and then waited with me for, I assumed, a bus. Turned out he was waiting for a new form of transportation I hadn't even been on yet - a taxi with a little trailer on the back of it, and several people already in the taxi, so it was really carrying like 8 people. The moto guy said something to the driver, so I assumed I'd be taken to Buena Vista.

Nope. I got about halfway there, but not before one of the guys in the trailer almost got in a fight with the driver over, well, I have no idea, obviously. But I did exchange eye rolls with the guy beside me. Even if I didn't know what was going on, I played the social situation to a tee. Smooth, Dave.

Anyway, I had no idea where I was when the cab driver told me he wasn't going any farther (i.e. when he kicked me out), so I just found a cab, which was the thing I was trying to avoid in the first place.

In the end, in getting from door to door, I took a small bus, a moto, a big bus, another moto, a shared taxi, and a private taxi. 6 things! That's a lot.

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E and K (twice) both blogged about Taganga, so if you just haven't gotten enough over the past seven days and 8 million words here at XX, check them out. We didn't spend much time together over the weekend, so they have lots of different stuff.

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This isn't Taganga-related, but sometime in the last couple days, the little visitor counter on the right side (if you scroll down) crossed the 1000 mark! Sweet, thanks guys! (And that's just 1000 since I installed the counter, which was 3 or 4 weeks ago.) I'm sure most of those are mom and me though.

Also, after a 2 or 3 week absence, I finally got internet at home today. So that means lots more bloggggggg!

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Finally, here are some more pictures from Taganga.


Upon climbing the foothills beside Taganga, I was amazed to discover I could see Santa Marta. I suppose I shouldn't have been so surprised since I knew it was only about 5km away, but I was so disoriented when we arrived I had no idea which direction we had come from, so suddenly seeing a huge city just over the hills was a pretty startling sight.

It thought this house looked like Lego.

A shot of Taganga from above.

A cool tree.

Triangle hills.


Saturday, September 19, 2009

Taganga Episode VI: The Recovery

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This week is "Taganga Week" at Xave's Xlog. Check it out:

After Sunday's activities I took a quick swim in the hostel pool, then packed up my stuff and headed out in search of a bus stop. I quickly found myself on a little van bus, sitting in a seat directly next to the door which stayed open (or didn't exist?) throughout the winding, somewhat mountainous drive back to Santa Marta. Eventually, after everyone else had exodused, the bus driver told me to get off, assuring me the bus station was nearby, and I'd just have to take a cheap moto-taxi. I had never taken one before, but it was fast, and fun, and soon I was on a bus back to Barranquilla. (note: these buses have air conditioning, a TV constantly going, and drinks/snacks available, and cost less than a $5, and this is a 2 hour trip we're talking about. Greyhound could learn a thing or two)

After watching the news cycle a couple of times, I got bored, despite the fact that I probably needed a few more watches to understand what was going on, so I got out my iPod which I had brought along precisely for this situation. In the summer, I discovered eBooks on my iPod, so I flipped open to my current iPod book (I do most of my reading on my computer, so I've got 2 books going simultaneously - the iPod one is more of a long-term effort since I don't use it often), Les Miserables. I read for most of the trip, but as we entered Barranquilla I set it down so I could try to figure out where we were/where to get off.

Of course, I should have realized that since the bus comes into a part of the city I am totally unfamiliar with, my decision about when to get off would likely be spur of the moment, triggered by the first thing I recognize. This is exactly what happened, and as you can probably guess, I left my iPod sitting right there on the seat.

Naturally, I didn't realize what I had done at first since I was pre-occupied trying to figure out where the bus back to my part of the city stopped. Eventually I figured out the guys were telling me I was in the right place, I just might have to wait a few minutes since it was Sunday night, hence infrequent service.

(I could have just taken a taxi and avoided all this hassle, but buses are cheaper, and I like taking them anyway, I find it's one of the best ways to learn a city. In the end, it's a very good thing I didn't hop in the first taxi I found.)

That's when I remembered the last place I had put my iPod.

I panicked, but when I looked down the street, the bus was, miraculously, still within eyeshot. So I started sprinting after it as it pulled away from the curb and turned onto some sort of on-ramp. I followed the bus' future path and discovered it was about to a complete 180 on a sort of cloverleaf construction. I still had hope! I could simply run across and cut the bus off.

Unfortunately, it was a little too quick - I shouted and waved, but wasn't quite at the other side when the bus passed in front of me. Once again, I didn't give up - I looked to where the bus was headed next in hopes that I could attempt a similar maneuver.

This time, though, the outlook was bleak. There was no cloverleaf, and no bus stop that I could see nearby. It was on a fairly major street, too, with little traffic. It looked like it would just blast straight down the road, into the horizon, and out of my hopes and dreams.

I kept going in the bus' direction, but slowed to a walk, having given up. I half-heartedly checked my bag just to make sure I hadn't subconsciously thrown it in there in my haste to get off the bus, but I knew in my heart (well, really in my head) that the search was fruitless. It was over: the hardly used iPod Touch I had been given by a friend this past summer was gone forever.

But then, I saw the bus stop some 200m ahead of me. Once again, I broke into a dead run, and this time, luckily, whatever the bus had stopped for was taking its sweet time, and I managed to catch up before it headed off again! Relief swept over me like a broom over a floor (get it?).

But when I returned to my seat, there was nothing there. I turned to the girls across the aisle to ask them if they had seen anything, but all I could do in my panicky state was attempt to translate sign language into Spanish, which resulted in confused stares.

Just then, the bus operator (different from bus driver) emerged from the cabin (yeah) and handed me the iPod.

Success! I had left something valuable on a bus, and knowing there was likely no other way of retrieving it, had literally chased the bus down. Nice work, Dave. Tu eres el hombre. (As you can probably guess, this translates to 'you are the man', which isn't a thing in Spanish, but I'm trying to get in the habit of directly translating English slang into Spanish, because it's fun)

Friday, September 18, 2009

Taganga Episode V: Sunday

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This week is "Taganga Week" at Xave's Xlog. Check it out:

Upon arriving at my hostel last Friday, the owner informed us (the two American guys, John and Brian, I had met on the bus, and me) that he organized trips into nearby Tayrona National Park every couple days. He explained that his trips went in by boat, and because we were sneaking around the back, we didn't have to pay the park entrance fee of $32,000 pesos (16 bucks), or the cost of transportation into the park. In addition, the day included fishing, snorkeling, wakeboarding, breakfast and a BBQ lunch. The total cost was $90,000, so after mulling it over for a few seconds, we figured it was worth the extra 29 bucks for all those activities and meals and fun times! We found a couple more hostelers interested on Saturday, so on Sunday morning the 8 of us (the 5 guests, the owner Santiago, his 9ish year old son Santiago (Santi), and a teenager Santiago is training to run these trips whose name I forget), headed out for a day of awesome.


I'm on a boat, mother f***er!

After a 15 minute boat ride and a bit of unsuccessful fishing (which was to be expected, though I was kind of disappointed, because on Saturday the Santiago trip had returned with a fish that was seriously like THIS BIG (I'm holding my arms up really wide right now)), we arrived at our almost-private cove. First we had to pay off the other dudes who (work? live?) in the cove with several huge jugs of water (a precious resource when you're surrounded by salt water, I guess) (just to be clear, we paid off the guys with water, the guys don't live with water. Confusing grammar, sorry). I didn't get a great photo of the exchange, but it's something:





And here are a couple photos of the cove:




After the bribe, we headed across to the other side of the bay and set up camp. John, Brian and the Filipino woman whose name I forget headed out for snorkeling. The Irish guy whose name I also forget and I stayed back because there was only enough gear for 3 people. So we took that opportunity to eat our breakfast of sandwiches, fruit, chips and many other little things:



After breakfast, Santiago suggested we go check out the natural salt mine nearby (nearby turned out to mean like less than a 100 meters away). Here's what it looks like:




When we got there, Santi (i.e. little Santiago) dared us to step in the pink stuff (objects in picture are pinker then they appear). Turns out, under the white and pink surface is extremely thick mud:




Also, it was incredibly hot! For the second day in a row I pulled a jumping around going ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow. Note: the first time we went we weren't wearing shoes. The above pictures are from the second trip.

The second time, Santi decided it would be a good idea to actually cross the salt mine, because there was a path to the beach on the other side. I had worn shoes, so I didn't object. Irishguy did, after watching me run across the first part in quite a bit of pain despite the sandals. So he headed back, but Santi was all for it. Since he wasn't wearing shoes, he instructed me to catch him at the end of his run:



For the rest of the trip we skirted around the outside, avoiding all the intense foot heat. We came out several hundred meters down the beach, and on the way back Santi caught a crab by digging it out of its hole. Coolest kid ever.


Crab Series #4: Santi-y

Sandwiched between our salt mine trips, it had been our turn to snorkel. Oh, and I forgot to mention: our time snorkeling included the use of a spear-fishing gun. This is me practicing my technique:



Because that's the stance you normally use when in water with a snorkel shooting at fish.

Anyway, I was unsuccessful at the spear-fishing, as was Irishguy, but Santi, once again, re-affirmed his status as coolest kid ever.



The last activity before lunch was wake-boarding. I had never wake-boarded before, but it couldn't be that hard, right? Well, this is probably the closest I ever got to succeeding:



Also: it is really hard work. I only tried 5 times, and my arms are still sore. It is now Friday, and this was on Sunday. It could just be that wake-boarding uses muscles I never use (bottom of your forearm - I don't even know what to call that). Anyway, nobody else (including Santi) got up either, so I didn't feel too pathetic.

After a BBQ lunch of steak, chorizo sausage, chips and other stuff, we headed out, tried a bit more fishing, and then went over to one of the main camp sites of Tayrona to drop off John, Brian and Filipinochick. On the way, we saw flying fish! I'm not sure I've ever seen flying fish before, but they are so weird.

Anyway, I don't have much to tell about the Tayrona site - yesterday I showed you a couple picture of animals I saw there, and that was about all I did. But here's a nice picture:



Before we go, just a couple more quick words on Santi. That kid could do everything. He drove the boat, he set up the fishing lines, he caught crabs, he shot a fish, he even spoke pretty decent English (I'm assuming he doesn't go to an English school given the size of Taganga). Obviously it helps when your dad does all that stuff for a living, but still, he was a very impressive grade 5.

Anyway, it was a great day. I guess it goes to show that when you travel, don't over-plan. I didn't know the hostel offered these day trips - hell, I didn't even know what hostel I was staying at. We just asked the cab driver to take us to a hostel. If I had set a detailed itinerary, I wouldn't have done all this fun stuff. Alright, later!




Thursday, September 17, 2009

Taganga Episode IV: Cacti

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This week is "Taganga Week" at Xave's Xlog. Check it out:

As I mentioned yesterday, on Saturday I decided to go for a hike in the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta - one of the many mountain ranges in the world called Sierra Nevada (it translates to "snow covered mountain range"). It's the highest coastal mountain range in the world, reaching an altitude of about 5700m, though that part is a little more inland. Here's a view of the foothills surrounding Taganga.

There certainly weren't any official trails, and the trails that did exist, presumably used by locals for everyday life, which includes leading their pack animals around, as I surmised by all the 

around, were few and far between. It was pretty exhausting in the 30˚ heat, but luckily it was a cloudy day, making the temperature a little more bearable. I saw lots of great animals, and also some excellent scenery. Including cacti. Look at all the cacti!



There is a dude in this cacti! Look in the middle. He must not have been comfortable. But he must have also been like "dude, I'm sitting on a cactus, this makes me a MAN." Maybe it's a rite of passage around here.
This looks like a cactus and a stick got in a fight and then at the end they got their clothes tangled up and now it's just awkward.


Aww, a baby cactus! I wonder what its first words were. Probably "guys, this is a really painful existence. I would not recommend being a cactus"
This is a cactus that I sat on. Obviously, this caused my butt to suddenly expand to 8 times its normal size, caused me to instantly leap 3 meters in the air while my legs made a fast running motion in the air, yell "ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-owwwwwwww" and then upon landing run around in circles until I found a pond where I extinguished my butt which was suddenly also on fire for some reason.


A cactus farm! I think that every morning the farmers get up at first light and milk the cacti. This is why there is such a high rate of hand injury among Colombian farmers. This is also why all the milk in Colombia is green. (the milk in Colombia is not green.)
Okay, that's all the cactus pictures/stories I have. Seeya tomorrow for Taganga Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back. Or something.


Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Taganga Episode III: Wildlife

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This week is "Taganga Week" at Xave's Xlog. Check it out:
Taganga Episode II: The Town

I took lots of pictures of animals this weekend. Animals are cool! Check them out.


This was the view from my hostel balcony to the next yard over. Not pictured: a lot more goats and one extremely loud donkey.

On Saturday, I spent a few hours hiking in the hills surrounding Taganga. This was not something I was supposed to be doing, I think, given the lack of trails. Not that anyone cared. It was probably less against the rules and more why would anyone do that because there's a national park with hiking trails right beside Taganga you idiot xave.

"Long day? Take a load off. What'll it be?"

On my hike, I ran into a lot of these little dudes. I didn't get a great shot of this guy's underbelly, but it was bright yellowy green (you can kind of see it in the next shot). Some of them also had shockingly blue tails and faces, but I didn't manage to get a good picture.

Here's a picture of a really weird bee-like thing.

And his butt.

"Hey George, one of those giant things is here! 
Better show it the traditional peace offering!"

Near the end of my hike, I heard a high-pitched scream recurring every 10 seconds or so. Whatever was happening to this thing sounded really painful. It sounded like what would have happened if Nick Jonas had entered my classroom today (today is Nick Jonas' birthday, as I recently found out).

Eventually I spotted what was making the noise. I guess I can't blame for screaming, since it was standing on a cactus. Then when I got close enough to take a picture, it flew away... and stood on another cactus. Stupid bird.

Crab Series #1: Camouflagey

After my hike I went for a swim some 2 or 3 coves over from Taganga, which is where I had naturally ended up. I walked home through the shallows along the coast, and in one little cavey area I saw some crabs. They were really hard to capture, not because they kept running away, but because they were so camouflagey when I looked away to look through the camera I kept losing them.


On Sunday, I spent the day with a few people from my hostel on a day trip run by Santiago, the hostel owner. At the end of the day, we popped over to one of the camping areas of Tayrona Park to drop off 3 of the people who had come on the trip, as they were staying overnight in the park. We spent 30 or 40 minutes relaxing on the beach before heading back to Taganga, and I found some more animals, including the birds above.

 Crab Series #2: Blue
Crab Series #3: Red

Here are some more birds.

"Robert, we need to talk about our relationship. 
Robert! Robert, look at me."
Some other wildlife I saw but didn't manage to capture cameraly:
  • a literally neon yellow butterfly
  • many fish while snorkeling, including one that might have been an eel and one that might have been a republican
  • a bigfoot (I swear!)
  • a crazy guy who kept growling and then pinched K's butt

Monday, September 14, 2009

Taganga: The Trailer

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You might have noticed a lack of blogging this weekend. You probably didn't, because you don't exist, since I'm talking to nobody. But anyway, whether you noticed or not, there was a lack of blogging this weekend. This is because I took off for the weekend, to a small village of about 5000 people called Taganga, which is very close to the much larger city of Santa Marta. Taganga is also right beside a National Park called Tayrona that is pretty famous around here.

The weekend was great, and I have much to tell/show about it. I think this whole week will be dedicated to blogging about various aspects of the weekend.

My idea was to have a sort of movie trailer ready for today, giving you a glimpse of what's in store for the rest of the week. Unfortunately, I forgot to upload the pictures on to my computer, and I don't have internet at home, so I have to post this before I leave school. So I'll just tell you some of the things you can look forward to this week, and I'll leave it up to you to imagine the accompanying images and deep voiced movie trailer dude.

"Xave was a normal guy. He worked 8 hours a day, paid his bills, and his pride and joy was a 5 foot tall, 1.5 foot-diameter, Hercules electric fan. Until one day, he went to... Taganga!

Taganga showed Xave a side of life he had never seen before. He stayed in a room with no air conditioning! He ate food! He walked... down the street! Now Xave's life is upside down, and he doesn't know if he can ever go back! All thanks to... Taganga!"

Seriously, though, I did these things:
  • snorkeled
  • ate a fish
  • met the coolest kid ever
  • wakeboarded
  • climbed a mountain on which there were no trails and many shrubberies
  • got a sun burn
  • took 6 different vehicles for 1 trip
  • fished
  • got in a fight with a cactus
  • took close up pictures of animals
  • bribed
  • saw a flaming torch juggling unicycle show that almost catastrophized
  • chased a bus around a highway clover leaf on foot
Does this sound like something you want to read about? If you answered YES or NO to the previous question, be sure to stay tuned for the rest of the week!

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Another Getting-To-School Adventure

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To you, my beloved readers, this tale is simply "A Getting-To-School Adventure", since I never told you about the first one (it wasn't that interesting, really), but I like to direct my headlines at myself, since I assume that I'm my only audience.

This morning, I arrived at the bus stop around 6:20 AM, which was a little later than I usually aim for (and by 'usually', I mean the one day of school prior to this morning). This meant that I missed my fellow teacher (and math department head, coincidentally) who takes the same bus. No big deal - after several days of training and the first day of school, I've got the bus figured out.

So the first bus ambled up, looking rather full. I didn't quite catch which bus it was, so I walked towards it with the intention of peeking around at the front, where the route is generally listed. Upon making this several-meter trek, I encountered a man who I took for a bus employee - around here, there's the driver, and there's the guy who collects your money, and when the bus stops, he's usually hanging out the door to make sure everyone who wants to get on gets on before the driver takes off, which, by the way, doesn't usually happen, and more than once now I've entered/exited a moving bus, so anyway, this guy was hanging off the side as the bus approached, hence my assumption he was the money collector guy - and this guy surprised me by asking "(name of my school)?".

How did he know where I was going? Many buses pass by this bus stop, going to many destinations, and even the ones that take me the right way stop first at Barranquilla's most populous university, which is a much more popular stop on the route. Lots of people around here (including transportation personnel, as I discovered in my first getting-to-school adventure) don't even know what I'm talking about it when I tell them the school's name.

In any case, I got on the bus, since this guy seemed to know what he was talking about, even though I was pretty sure this bus wouldn't get me all the way to school. It was absolutely jam packed, to the point where I was the one hanging out the entrance as we drove away, which was pretty exhilarating. After driving for several minutes, the bus came to a stop in a weird place (which isn't uncommon - passengers just tell the driver when they want to stop). Apparently, my guide had requested the stop, and at this point he hopped off and motioned for me to hop off at the same time. I had no idea where we were, but once again, this guy knew his stuff, so I followed.

By the way, astute readers (and since, as previously mentioned, the readership of this blog most likely consists exclusively of the writership of this blog, it is a fair assumption that 100% of the readers are in fact astute) should now be realizing that my assumption that this guy was the money collector of the bus had just been proven false, since he had exited the bus and therefore was now unable to collect money from anyone on the bus. (also, speaking of money collection, my precarious position of only being about 40% inside the bus had seemingly exempted me from having to pay!)

So who was he? I didn't recognize him, and I had already had a week of training plus one day of regular school. I was almost positive he wasn't a staff member, but that positivity was now weakening with the newfound knowledge that he was not a bus dude.

Anyway, he led me over to a nearby corner, where there were a few people who looked like they were also waiting for buses (good sign!) as well as a few people who were just hanging out. One of the hangers was a coffee vendor - there are many portable coffee vendors around here, they carry around this rack of thermoses sort of thing - and shortly my guide was thrusting a thimble sized cup (another peculiarity that is common around here) of Caffe Tinto (black coffee with sugar, the default in Barranquilla) into my hands, free of charge (I didn't notice if he had paid for me, or if it was just on the house).

After a few minutes of socializing (him, not me - not many English speakers around this corner), he whisked me off to the other side of the street to catch our next bus. Also, our party had gained another member - a woman who, according to her garb, was a nurse. I didn't recognize her either, but I didn't think much of it, because there is also a hospital on the way to the school, so I just assumed that's where she was headed.

The first bus that came our way wasn't much of a bus at all - more of a van. But I've been on buses of varying sizes here, so once again this was something I didn't think much of - especially since, as I've now mentioned three times, my good friend seemed to know what he was doing. Upon hopping into the van and sitting down, though, I noticed something odd - the 4 passengers who had already been seated inside were children, all wearing uniforms from my school. This was a school van. (They don't do school buses around here, instead they have a fleet of these 10ish person vans.)

At this point, my surety that Mr. Busandcoffee wasn't a member of the staff was beginning to severely wane. (I was now also forced to assume that my new nurse friend was a school nurse, even though I had met the school nurse the previous week at training, and I thought there was only one.) And my incorrectness was confirmed when the van drove non-stop to the school, and upon arrival everyone dutifully filed out.

I guess I was just wrong - my transportation hero does work at the school. It was embarrassing that I didn't know him, though our lack of ability to communicate probably masked some of that. In any case, I won't be forgetting him any time soon. After getting out of the bus I thanked him, and began toward my classroom.

But then something weird happened - he turned around and headed the other way, toward the school gate. Was I right all along? Did he not work at the school? Did he just go to all that trouble to make sure I got to school okay??! (other questions abound: once again, how did he know where I wanted to go? How did he know that nurse?) Needless to say, I was mighty confused, as I watched my hero saunter off into the sunset. (it wasn't sunset, it was like 6:45AM)

**************

Fast-forward to 12PM. (Classes end at 12PM this week - because it's the first week of school, we're trying to ease the students into it, thus the short day.) Every day this week, after school ends, I have rehearsal with the newly formed teacher band. The band consists of the two music teachers on piano and bass, an English teacher on guitar, yours truly on drums, and the religion teacher on vocals. The purpose of these rehearsals is to prepare for mass on Friday, at which we will be performing several religious songs.

Setting up for rehearsals is somewhat luxurious - after years of playing in student groups in which the band sets everything up, and often has to transport the equipment great distances from the storage space to the rehearsal space, the teacher band has a whole maintenance crew at our disposal, who apparently have nothing else to do at 12:15 than haul equipment up one flight of stairs for us.

It was during this set-up process that something caught my eye. A face I recognized but couldn't place. Maybe just one of those faces - that reminds you of someone else, you know? But then the face smiled at me and waved, and that's when it hit me - there was my guy! He was wearing different clothes, which was why I hadn't immediately recognized him. It was like something out of a movie - except usually the guy in the movies who you recognize-but-can't-place-because-he's-now-wearing-different-clothes-and-particularly-maintenance-clothes is a bad guy who you figure out the identity of one knife-slash too late.

**************

As of the writing of this story, I have no reason to believe he's a bad guy, so the tale has a happy ending. And also a clears-up-so-much-confusion ending! I wouldn't recognize him, because the maintenance crew wasn't at training. Good on him for recognizing me in the early morning, since we had probably only seen each other around school a couple times and never spoken, but I guess I stand out a little more around here. But now it's him that stands out, not me - as a shining pillar of grace, kindness, and heroism.


Sunday, August 9, 2009

The Volcano

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After arriving in Colombia on Wednesday and then spending Thursday meeting some school people, touring the school and seeing a bit of the city, the school set us (and when I say 'us', I mean the two other North American teachers, who we will refer to as K and E, K's mom C, who is visiting for the first week or two, and me) up with a trip to Cartagena, the 5th largest city in Colombia (right behind my hometown Barranquilla), and is about 100 km west, along the Caribbean coast. Cartagena (Carta-hay-na) is known for its old city, which dates back to the 1500s, and was the target of several famous pirate attacks!

I'm not going to tell you about Cartagena today, though - rather, I'd like to tell you about something we did on the way. Namely, we bathed in a volcano.

There's the volcano! Okay, it's not that impressive as far as volcanoes go.

There were literally no other tourists at this place when we got there, even though there were something lke 30 or 40 employees ('employees' is a loose term - lots of them were just hanging out, and somehow I doubt there was any sort of pay structure, employment insurance or union).

So we had the place to ourselves. As soon as we had figured out how to pay, we changed, and started up the rickety staircase. Soon enough, I was climbing down into the hot, molten lava.



Wait, actually I forgot, we weren't bathing in hot, molten lava. It was a mud volcano.

And it was so weird.

It was the most buoyant substance I've ever been in, so when we lay down we were actually lying on top of the mud. The funniest part was when the guys organized us into a row of mud people; they first oriented us correctly, and then slid each one of us into our proper slot, like they were parking us. Being the last one of the four in, I had the privilege of seeing this process in action. Below is the result.



After we were shuttled into our places, the three guys spent about half an hour giving us massages. They also had to periodically wipe mud out of our ears and eyes. It was probably more effective than trying to hop on one leg, though given the density of the mud (the guys weren't standing on anything), we probably could actually have hopped.

About halfway through, we were flipped over so that the dudes could work our backs...


Lower... lower... too low! Lower...

After the dudes finished with the massages, we got to play around for a while. I spelled my name and drew pictures on the surface, a testament to how thick that stuff was. When upright, we came to equilibrium when the mud was about at our belly buttons, and it was almost impossible to go down any further without someone pushing us down. Not that there wasn't anywhere to go; apparently, the thing is 2300 meters deep!

Eventually we were forced out because the next group arrived.

Um, they had a lot of people.

Whereas we spent more than 30 minutes getting massaged and generally frolicking, they got about 5 minutes, if that. And many of them didn't get massages. Also, there were at least as many people waiting in line as you can see in that picture.

The early bird gets the mud volcano massage, I guess.