We made one last stop in Costa Rica. When we went there for our honeymoon, we made a day trip to Volcan Arenal, one of the most active volcanoes in the world. We did not realize you could not see the lava until it was dark and we werent able to stick around. So we decided to stay a night or two in the area this go round. Both days we had great views of the volcano , and then as the sun just started to set, thick clouds descended upon the volcano, making it impossible to see any of the lava. Apparently there was no flow at the bottom to see, so it may not have been very active at the time anyways. This area is very touristy and extremely expensive, so we spent our days trying to find free things to do. Mostly, playing with the locals by swinging from trees into rivers and hiking trails up until the point where they ask you for 10 bucks and turning around.
We crossed into Nicaragua through a small boat on the Rio Frio. About a 2 hour boat ride led us into San Carlos, Nicaragua. A smoltering hot town full of warm Nicraguan people.
Our next stop needs a bit of history to realize its significance. One of the reasons I (Adam) became interested in Latin America and was easily talked into going to study in Guatemala (thanks Aaron) is because I had begun to read some things about Liberation Theology. This is a movement out of Latin America that began from the poor in the churches reading the Bible and challenging the conventional wisdom that their poverty was deserved and should be tolerated and instead understand the Bible to tell them that they are created in ´the image of God and God suffers when the poor suffer (it goes a great deal deeper than this, so go read more about it). The movement became a powerful force and was considered to be a threat by the powerful in Latin American countries and in the high ranks of its neighbors, especially the big powerful neighbor to the North. One of the leaders of this movement was a man named Ernesto Cardenal. Cardenal studied under Thomas Merton for a time in the United States before returning to Nicaragua and starting a community in a small archipelago called Solentiname.
Our next stop, thus, was Solentiname. A beautiful little archipelago in the southern end of Lago Nicaragua (a freshwater lake that contains freshwater shrimp, and even more impressive, freshwater sharks!). The islands are well known around the world for their artisans. Wood carvers and painters on these islands have become well known for their unique style that is referred to as being "primitivist." There is little to do on the islands aside from reading and admiring the beauty and talking to the local people. The island contains a library and we were able to pick up copies of "The Gospel in Solentiname" and read the conversations had by poor campesinos on this land about the implications of the life of Jesus for poor people like themselves. We were also able to speak with people around the island who knew the people in these books and were able to learn about there current whereabouts. Many of the people who we read in these books making profound observations about the Gospels, we would learn after reading, were tragically and violently killed during the 80´s in the war. We highly recomend that all try to pick up a copy of this book as we found it to be a wonderful read, especially being in its setting. On that note, we also recomend that folks read up on Nicaraguan history, as it is a history that is full of lessons that must be learned, but that, it would seem, have certainly not yet been learned.
Tomorrow we leave on a slow boat for another island in Lake Nicaragua and then to Granada where we will celebrate Semana Santa (Holy Week). These festivities are supposed to be a big deal, so we look forward to witnessing them, participating in them, and sharing them.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
Panama City, Santa Catalina, David and into Costa Rica
We really should update this more often.
We last left off somewhere around Panama City. We spent a few days enjoying the city. A strange place that was enjoyable on some levels. We stayed in an older part of town that was enjoyable and felt very Panamanian. But it does not take long to wander into the Panama City where Donald Trump is building skyscrapers and ex-pats are running you over in their BMW SUVs. We were also able to visit on of the locks on the Panama Canal. A very impressive piece of engineering. We were not aware, but the canal is not just a long area where a hole was dug to let ships pass. It actually connects large inland bodies of water with the oceans through shorter segments of big holes. The problem for the engineers was that the inland bodies of water were at a higher elevation that the sea on either side. So the locks were built to raise and lower the ships to the various elevations.
From there we went to Santa Catalina. We expected a rather remote coastal town with a nice beach and some coastal culture. What we got was an expensive town with a gringo local ratio of 3:1. The beach was nice, but only stuck around for a day as the college spring breakers were just too much for us.
We then got on a bus to head to another slightly more remote beach/island on the Pacific coast. However, we had some difficulty getting busses along the way and then we learned of a festival occurring in the city of David. So we switched our destination to David and settled in there for a few days.
The festival in David was much better than any beach we could have hit. It was almost identical to the NC State Fair. Livestock judging, produce competitions, agricultural displays, street food vendors (hot dogs and drinks for $1, kabobs for .50, but no deep fried twinkies and no blooming onions to puke up after a few poorly constructed rides (Sorry, Emily!)), tractors galore, music, cultural events, etc. We ended up hanging out at the fair each of the three days we were in David.
We finally stuffed our stomachs full of enough fair food and went into town and got our final fresh fruit snow cone (street vendors sell these heavenly treats everywhere for $0.30) and headed to Costa Rica. The border agent gave us a stern look when we told him we did not have a ticket to leave the country. He explained that this was a requirement and that we would need to go to the internet and buy an onward ticket and print it out and bring it to him...long pause...next time we cross the border into Costa Rica. We agreed that we would do this. (oh, side note. I hinted at border issues in Panama. We did immigration in Puerto Obaldia, but when we flew into Panama City, the immigration folks looked bored and we looked white, so they decided maybe it would be fun to do it again. Well US citizens as well as Aussies and a few others have to purchase a tourist card. We knew this and planned to do so at the airport. Well the immigration agent was kind enough to sell us a card for $10, despite the fact that it is widely known that they cost $5 and it says on the card that it should only cost $5. I questioned her on it a couple of times and asked for a receipt, which of course was not available. My bag had still not been searched and we were not in the clear, so I decided it was not worth it to keep pushing the issue and acted like I bought her lame story. Once we got through, I asked an official in the airport if it is normal for a tourist card to cost $10. I just wanted to express my frustration. This turned in to me being on the phone to the head immigration office, making a police report and being surrounded by multiple police officers. They took our passports and toursit cards back to make copies of them. The immigration officers wanted us to return the next day since the lady who sold them to us had left for the day. Since a taxi to and from the airport would have cost way more than the $10 we lost, we told them we could not do this and we wanted to either resolve it then or just forget it and leave and act like nothing happened. So with the police on one side angry at the immigration officers and the immigration officers extremely angry at me for opening my mouth and our passports somewhere in the airport, we stood around for 2 and a half hours. Finally an immigration officer showed up and had another lame story about what had occurred, gave us $10 dollars out of her purse and told the police she would resolve the issue with her staff member. She was able to retrieve our passports and cards and we finally went on our way. We half expected for our photos to be in up in the office where we exited the country, but we left without a problem. To be fair, we do think this was an isolated thing and the fact that the police took the incident way more seriously than we ever intended for it to be is a credit to the countries desire to keep corruption out of their officials.)
We made it to the Caribbean town of Cahuita (pronounced cow-eetah). The locals in Cahuita are of African descent and mainly speak English. This is a very Caribbean English and is still difficult to understand, but it is really interesting to see little pockets that speak different languages from various historical events. We were told that the village used to be called Cow Eaters, as the village raised cattle and ate a lot of it. However, as things became more official in the country, a more spanish name was needed and given the Caribbean accent, Cahuita was essentially the same name. We dont know if this is true, but we love the story. This is a really nice, laid back village, but it is quickly being flooded with ex-pats, making the local culture a bit harder to see.
A local National Park in Cahuita houses a large coral reef. We set up a morning of snorkeling to try to enjoy the reef. We ended up being the only ones on the reef, with our guide, meaning the reef was full of life. During the morning we saw lots of coral of various colors, thousands of fish that were brightly colored, many swimming in schools by the hundreds, an octopus, a giant lobster, a sting ray, a giant brightly colored, spotted flounder, spider star fish, conchs, and a 4 foot nurse shark. The shark was large, but it was resting completely still on the bottom. We assume he was no danger as we got pretty close to him and really could not have cared less. We were dropped off on the other side of the national park to hike back. The guide warned us that we may have to scare some monkeys away so they dont try to steal our stuff or bite us. The fun part was that he was right. The monkeys were quite daring in trying to inspect us to see if we had any food. We saw several species of monkeys in the trees, sloths, a Palm Eyelash Viper, racoons, butterflies, lizards, brightly colored birds, and probably even more.
We are now in San Jose as a strike has the roads blocked and we werent able to catch our second bus. Hopefully we head out tomorrow to continue north.
Here are a few pictures from our past couple of weeks.
Miraflores Locks on the Panama Canal:
Casco Viejo in Panama City:
Big, modern, Panama City:
The David "State Fair":
Snow Cones. We ate our weight in these things. Made with fresh fruit juice and topped with sweetened condensed milk.
This is the rodeo-esque event we went to at the Fair. If you closed your eyes and smelled the grilling sausages and hot dogs and listened to the Allan Jackson Greatest Hits CD playing during the event, you might think you were back in the southeastern USA.
Snorkeling at Cahuita National Park in the Caribbean.
Monkeys. We had a stand off with one on the trail. He wanted to check us for food. We wanted him not to bite us. He showed his teeth, we showed ours and we both moved on.
This is the eyelash viper. We were told we would have a good hour to get to a hospital if it bit us (it is venomous), so we figured we should get close enough for a good picture.
The Colonel puts the moves on Tracy in San Jose, Costa Rica. He thinks he is smooth with his greasy fingers and his nasty chicken and biscuits (which are actually tortillas here, first country so far with tortillas). Tracy wasn´t having it.
We last left off somewhere around Panama City. We spent a few days enjoying the city. A strange place that was enjoyable on some levels. We stayed in an older part of town that was enjoyable and felt very Panamanian. But it does not take long to wander into the Panama City where Donald Trump is building skyscrapers and ex-pats are running you over in their BMW SUVs. We were also able to visit on of the locks on the Panama Canal. A very impressive piece of engineering. We were not aware, but the canal is not just a long area where a hole was dug to let ships pass. It actually connects large inland bodies of water with the oceans through shorter segments of big holes. The problem for the engineers was that the inland bodies of water were at a higher elevation that the sea on either side. So the locks were built to raise and lower the ships to the various elevations.
From there we went to Santa Catalina. We expected a rather remote coastal town with a nice beach and some coastal culture. What we got was an expensive town with a gringo local ratio of 3:1. The beach was nice, but only stuck around for a day as the college spring breakers were just too much for us.
We then got on a bus to head to another slightly more remote beach/island on the Pacific coast. However, we had some difficulty getting busses along the way and then we learned of a festival occurring in the city of David. So we switched our destination to David and settled in there for a few days.
The festival in David was much better than any beach we could have hit. It was almost identical to the NC State Fair. Livestock judging, produce competitions, agricultural displays, street food vendors (hot dogs and drinks for $1, kabobs for .50, but no deep fried twinkies and no blooming onions to puke up after a few poorly constructed rides (Sorry, Emily!)), tractors galore, music, cultural events, etc. We ended up hanging out at the fair each of the three days we were in David.
We finally stuffed our stomachs full of enough fair food and went into town and got our final fresh fruit snow cone (street vendors sell these heavenly treats everywhere for $0.30) and headed to Costa Rica. The border agent gave us a stern look when we told him we did not have a ticket to leave the country. He explained that this was a requirement and that we would need to go to the internet and buy an onward ticket and print it out and bring it to him...long pause...next time we cross the border into Costa Rica. We agreed that we would do this. (oh, side note. I hinted at border issues in Panama. We did immigration in Puerto Obaldia, but when we flew into Panama City, the immigration folks looked bored and we looked white, so they decided maybe it would be fun to do it again. Well US citizens as well as Aussies and a few others have to purchase a tourist card. We knew this and planned to do so at the airport. Well the immigration agent was kind enough to sell us a card for $10, despite the fact that it is widely known that they cost $5 and it says on the card that it should only cost $5. I questioned her on it a couple of times and asked for a receipt, which of course was not available. My bag had still not been searched and we were not in the clear, so I decided it was not worth it to keep pushing the issue and acted like I bought her lame story. Once we got through, I asked an official in the airport if it is normal for a tourist card to cost $10. I just wanted to express my frustration. This turned in to me being on the phone to the head immigration office, making a police report and being surrounded by multiple police officers. They took our passports and toursit cards back to make copies of them. The immigration officers wanted us to return the next day since the lady who sold them to us had left for the day. Since a taxi to and from the airport would have cost way more than the $10 we lost, we told them we could not do this and we wanted to either resolve it then or just forget it and leave and act like nothing happened. So with the police on one side angry at the immigration officers and the immigration officers extremely angry at me for opening my mouth and our passports somewhere in the airport, we stood around for 2 and a half hours. Finally an immigration officer showed up and had another lame story about what had occurred, gave us $10 dollars out of her purse and told the police she would resolve the issue with her staff member. She was able to retrieve our passports and cards and we finally went on our way. We half expected for our photos to be in up in the office where we exited the country, but we left without a problem. To be fair, we do think this was an isolated thing and the fact that the police took the incident way more seriously than we ever intended for it to be is a credit to the countries desire to keep corruption out of their officials.)
We made it to the Caribbean town of Cahuita (pronounced cow-eetah). The locals in Cahuita are of African descent and mainly speak English. This is a very Caribbean English and is still difficult to understand, but it is really interesting to see little pockets that speak different languages from various historical events. We were told that the village used to be called Cow Eaters, as the village raised cattle and ate a lot of it. However, as things became more official in the country, a more spanish name was needed and given the Caribbean accent, Cahuita was essentially the same name. We dont know if this is true, but we love the story. This is a really nice, laid back village, but it is quickly being flooded with ex-pats, making the local culture a bit harder to see.
A local National Park in Cahuita houses a large coral reef. We set up a morning of snorkeling to try to enjoy the reef. We ended up being the only ones on the reef, with our guide, meaning the reef was full of life. During the morning we saw lots of coral of various colors, thousands of fish that were brightly colored, many swimming in schools by the hundreds, an octopus, a giant lobster, a sting ray, a giant brightly colored, spotted flounder, spider star fish, conchs, and a 4 foot nurse shark. The shark was large, but it was resting completely still on the bottom. We assume he was no danger as we got pretty close to him and really could not have cared less. We were dropped off on the other side of the national park to hike back. The guide warned us that we may have to scare some monkeys away so they dont try to steal our stuff or bite us. The fun part was that he was right. The monkeys were quite daring in trying to inspect us to see if we had any food. We saw several species of monkeys in the trees, sloths, a Palm Eyelash Viper, racoons, butterflies, lizards, brightly colored birds, and probably even more.
We are now in San Jose as a strike has the roads blocked and we werent able to catch our second bus. Hopefully we head out tomorrow to continue north.
Here are a few pictures from our past couple of weeks.
Miraflores Locks on the Panama Canal:
Casco Viejo in Panama City:
Big, modern, Panama City:
The David "State Fair":
Snow Cones. We ate our weight in these things. Made with fresh fruit juice and topped with sweetened condensed milk.
This is the rodeo-esque event we went to at the Fair. If you closed your eyes and smelled the grilling sausages and hot dogs and listened to the Allan Jackson Greatest Hits CD playing during the event, you might think you were back in the southeastern USA.
Snorkeling at Cahuita National Park in the Caribbean.
Monkeys. We had a stand off with one on the trail. He wanted to check us for food. We wanted him not to bite us. He showed his teeth, we showed ours and we both moved on.
This is the eyelash viper. We were told we would have a good hour to get to a hospital if it bit us (it is venomous), so we figured we should get close enough for a good picture.
The Colonel puts the moves on Tracy in San Jose, Costa Rica. He thinks he is smooth with his greasy fingers and his nasty chicken and biscuits (which are actually tortillas here, first country so far with tortillas). Tracy wasn´t having it.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Stranded on a Not-So-Deserted Island
When we last posted, we were just about to leave Colombia and head to Panama. One of our goals for this trip was to avoid air travel, so we have been trying to find alternative ways to travel between these two countries. The Pan-American Highway exists in very nice condition through Chile, Peru, Ecuador and Colombia, however it ends in Northern Colombia and does not begin again until Panama, on the other side of a land mass called the Darien Gap. The Darien Gap along the border has a well deserved reputation for robberies, violence, kidnapping and other undesireable things, so walking this 100 mile stretch while possible, would be very unwise.
We learned of an option of taking a sail boat from Cartagena to mainland Panama where we could then get on a bus. The problem was that this would have cost us nearly 800 dollars and it seemed there might be other alternatives that might be cheaper and where one could see more along the way. We then learned that it would be possible to jump between a few villages in Colombia, only accessible by boat, into a Panamanian town only accessible by boat and from there we could find a cargo boat headed north that might carry us the remainder of the way. We heard this from a couple of reliable sources and decided it would be worth having extra patience to wait out a cargo boat. So this is how our journey went---
We left last Wednesday from Cartagen and took a bus to Monteria. From there we took a pick-up truck to a town called Turbo. Unfortunately, no seats remained in the pickup, and we had to ride on a bench in the back. The other unfortunate part about this was that we could hear the tires screeching around the curves and when approaching potholes (of which there were many). We finally arrived with white knuckles and checked in to a little hospedaje off the main square. We mingled with the interesting array of locals in the square and asked for more information about the next part of our trip.
On Thursday we hopped a water taxi to the town of Capurgana, one of the northern most towns in Colombia, and only accessible by boat. For two hours we sped through the water, literrally catching air off of many of the large waves and slamming our backsides against the fiberglass seat. All the while getting soaked by the water flying into the boat. Another rather firghtening 2 hours, but we once again arrived and began to get settled and ask around for more info about the next leg of our journey.
The following day we woke up and saw the sea still churning and looking really rough. We had met a traveler from Finland who was hoping to accomplish a similar overland/water crossing as us and so together we organized a boat to the next town in Panama, Puerto Obaldia. This boat was considerably smaller and we would have been dryer had we swam the 5 miles to Puerto Obaldia, but we made in considerably less pain that the previous two rides.
In Puerto Obaldia we settled into the only small guest house in the town, ate dinner at one of the two small restaurants and wandered the 5 or 6 streets, asking locals about cargo boats and when they might come. The more we asked, the more we learned that the sea conditions were not just something we would have to get used to, but were actually the reason that no cargo boats were at Puerto Obaldia and were the reason it was unlikely any would arrive for perhaps one to two weeks. That evening we began chatting with 2 other Colombians and a Swiss cyclist (who has covered more or less the same ground as us, but on a bicycle) and organized a small boat with a big motor to take us to another, supposedly larger town where we were told we would be much more likely to find a cargo boat. After making these plans a few locals got wind of our plans and began pulling us aside to tell us that this would be stupid to leave in these conditions and we were risking our lives going into the ocean on a small boat. After hearing this from many people, we decided we would need to find a way out. Tracy feigned illness and we told them we could not go on with them and would wait in Puerto Obaldia. Unfortunately, everyone took great pity and decided to just postpone the whole trip a day. Unable to continue the acting job the whole day, Tracy eventually felt better. The following day we were set to leave again and were told that the sea had calmed to a condition that would be very uncomfortable, but not necessarily dangerous. However, another set of circumstances prevented our departure. Finally on day number 4 in Puerto Obaldia, town of 150, we departed. We had read a bit about Puerto Obaldia, most people saying it was very dirty and unfriendly and it was best to take an immediate airplane out of the place. Having spent 4 days walking the streets and having nothing to do but chat with the locals, we found it to be a very friendly place. The forced boredom was also a welcome time of relaxation after months of going non stop, trying to absorb as much as possible every day.
We arrived at Mulatupu. The trip may have been safe, I am not sure, but it was not comfortable by any definition of the word. No words can describe bouncing over 15 foot waves the way that we did this day. At risk of being crass and providing too much information, Adam currently sports two scabs on his posterior from where the repeated bouncing actually broke the skin (this is NO exaggeration). Mulatupu is 2 hours from Puerto Obaldia in boat, but it is a whole new world. Mulatupu is an island that is home to a indigenous group called the Kuna. The Kuna live in bamboo huts on the island. The southeastern half of the Caribbean coast of Panama is lined with islands inhabited by this indigenous groups. It is thought to be one of the most powerful indigenous groups in the world as they are fully autonomous. The Panama coast guard and drug enforcement and any other government agency is not allowed to patrol the areas where the Kuna live. The women wear a very beautiful and well known clothing called a mola. This is a hand stitched design of a geometric pattern or a picture of a local animal (turtles, monkeys, etc.). On the arms and legs of the women they wear beaded bracelets that cover the length of the forearm and the calf. The beads also have various goemetric shapes. The Kuna speak a Kuna language as well as Spanish.
When we got off the boat in Mulatupu, we were greeted excitedly by all of the children who were grabbing our hands and shouting greetings and smiling at us. We received a similarly warm welcome from the adults in the village. We were shown to a small room with a few beds, shown to the home of a local man who would be cooking for us during our stay (they were unaware of our arrival until 4 gringos arrived in the boat that very day) and showed us the bathroom, which is a small outhouse built on the end of a dock with a hole going into the water. We would spend the next few days wandering about the small village and continuing to be greeted, smiled at (mostly) and chatting with the locals who were very curious about us. This island is not easily accessible from either direction, and thus receives very few outsiders. The one source of friction, from our perspective, was that we were unable to live up to our reputation. White people who visit the islands in the northern part of the islands tend to spend mountains of money. We had not seen an atm in many days and had no idea when the next one would come, leaving us unable to go much beyond our usual, tiny budget. We only ate once or twice a day and we could not afford to eat foods other than that which the locals ate. We sensed that this was a big disappointment, which was hard for us, but we tried to make up for it with friendliness and by spending time chatting and getting know people in town.
Decision making in a Kuna village is a very unique process. There is a chief in the village and all decisions must go through him. So when our group found out that cargo boats were still docked and the one that was planning to leave was going in the wrong direction, we started asking about renting another small boat to go a bit further in the islands where we hoped to have better luck (no worries, Adam had planned to take additional padding for this boat ride). A few locals agreed to a reasonable price, however, the village cheif felt the sea would be too dangerous and the idea of any boat leaving the village was vetoed. We waited the sea out for another day, but it continued to give no signs of letting up. Locals stated it could be another week or even two before it might be possible to make the trip. Somewhat defeated, we decided we should go ahead an book a ticket on the next airplane, which would leave on Thursday.
After a couple more days in Mulatupu, we loaded our bags onto a dugout wooden canoe and made the trip to another small island where a tiny airstrip was located. We waited about a half hour in the open-air, thatch-roof hut terminal and finally boarded the plane for Panama City. The 12 seater plane makes occassional flights to several of the islands. We sat right behind the pilot and co-pilot and watched them read their magazines and newspapers while we flew (Gail, is this normal?).
So now we sit, in Panama City. We thought we would feel disappointed about flying, but 1) flying a 12 seater from an island air strip out of the bamboo terminal is not the same as just flying and 2) instead of booking multiple boats, we were forced to sit still and get to know a really fascinating village and a really fascinating culture. No internet, 1 telephone in the whole town, etc. It was a really beautiful and memorable time.
We have many more side stories, as we do with any time of travel, but especially with this trip, so hopefully they will come up, but we can only tell so many things at one time. (I will tell you why we had to spend 2 extra hours with immigration and the poilce at the airport some other time)
We were unable to take many picutres in the Kuna village as photography is a very sensitive thing for the culture. We were not even able to get a photo with the resident monkey at our restaurant/house. But, here are a few photos from the Colombia-Panama crossing.
Capurgana, Colombia. Beautiful beach town, mostly used by upper class Colombians for vacationing.
The only possible lodging in Puerto Obaldia, Panama. Luckily, Cande charges a fair price of $5 per night.
The local kids enjoy fishing in Puerto Obaldia. This whopper was caught with a string wrapped around a bottle, a hook and a piece of banana.
This is our taxi to the airport. The small structure at the end of the dock is a bathroom.
Food was very expensive in the village, so we often had to supplement our meals with a snack or two. Yummy, Pork and Beans!
The island of Mulatupu.
Dont worry, buddy, this plane can probably fly itself.
Panama City.
For those who are curious, a Google image search will likely reveal lots of photos of Kuna arts and people that we were unable to photograph.
We learned of an option of taking a sail boat from Cartagena to mainland Panama where we could then get on a bus. The problem was that this would have cost us nearly 800 dollars and it seemed there might be other alternatives that might be cheaper and where one could see more along the way. We then learned that it would be possible to jump between a few villages in Colombia, only accessible by boat, into a Panamanian town only accessible by boat and from there we could find a cargo boat headed north that might carry us the remainder of the way. We heard this from a couple of reliable sources and decided it would be worth having extra patience to wait out a cargo boat. So this is how our journey went---
We left last Wednesday from Cartagen and took a bus to Monteria. From there we took a pick-up truck to a town called Turbo. Unfortunately, no seats remained in the pickup, and we had to ride on a bench in the back. The other unfortunate part about this was that we could hear the tires screeching around the curves and when approaching potholes (of which there were many). We finally arrived with white knuckles and checked in to a little hospedaje off the main square. We mingled with the interesting array of locals in the square and asked for more information about the next part of our trip.
On Thursday we hopped a water taxi to the town of Capurgana, one of the northern most towns in Colombia, and only accessible by boat. For two hours we sped through the water, literrally catching air off of many of the large waves and slamming our backsides against the fiberglass seat. All the while getting soaked by the water flying into the boat. Another rather firghtening 2 hours, but we once again arrived and began to get settled and ask around for more info about the next leg of our journey.
The following day we woke up and saw the sea still churning and looking really rough. We had met a traveler from Finland who was hoping to accomplish a similar overland/water crossing as us and so together we organized a boat to the next town in Panama, Puerto Obaldia. This boat was considerably smaller and we would have been dryer had we swam the 5 miles to Puerto Obaldia, but we made in considerably less pain that the previous two rides.
In Puerto Obaldia we settled into the only small guest house in the town, ate dinner at one of the two small restaurants and wandered the 5 or 6 streets, asking locals about cargo boats and when they might come. The more we asked, the more we learned that the sea conditions were not just something we would have to get used to, but were actually the reason that no cargo boats were at Puerto Obaldia and were the reason it was unlikely any would arrive for perhaps one to two weeks. That evening we began chatting with 2 other Colombians and a Swiss cyclist (who has covered more or less the same ground as us, but on a bicycle) and organized a small boat with a big motor to take us to another, supposedly larger town where we were told we would be much more likely to find a cargo boat. After making these plans a few locals got wind of our plans and began pulling us aside to tell us that this would be stupid to leave in these conditions and we were risking our lives going into the ocean on a small boat. After hearing this from many people, we decided we would need to find a way out. Tracy feigned illness and we told them we could not go on with them and would wait in Puerto Obaldia. Unfortunately, everyone took great pity and decided to just postpone the whole trip a day. Unable to continue the acting job the whole day, Tracy eventually felt better. The following day we were set to leave again and were told that the sea had calmed to a condition that would be very uncomfortable, but not necessarily dangerous. However, another set of circumstances prevented our departure. Finally on day number 4 in Puerto Obaldia, town of 150, we departed. We had read a bit about Puerto Obaldia, most people saying it was very dirty and unfriendly and it was best to take an immediate airplane out of the place. Having spent 4 days walking the streets and having nothing to do but chat with the locals, we found it to be a very friendly place. The forced boredom was also a welcome time of relaxation after months of going non stop, trying to absorb as much as possible every day.
We arrived at Mulatupu. The trip may have been safe, I am not sure, but it was not comfortable by any definition of the word. No words can describe bouncing over 15 foot waves the way that we did this day. At risk of being crass and providing too much information, Adam currently sports two scabs on his posterior from where the repeated bouncing actually broke the skin (this is NO exaggeration). Mulatupu is 2 hours from Puerto Obaldia in boat, but it is a whole new world. Mulatupu is an island that is home to a indigenous group called the Kuna. The Kuna live in bamboo huts on the island. The southeastern half of the Caribbean coast of Panama is lined with islands inhabited by this indigenous groups. It is thought to be one of the most powerful indigenous groups in the world as they are fully autonomous. The Panama coast guard and drug enforcement and any other government agency is not allowed to patrol the areas where the Kuna live. The women wear a very beautiful and well known clothing called a mola. This is a hand stitched design of a geometric pattern or a picture of a local animal (turtles, monkeys, etc.). On the arms and legs of the women they wear beaded bracelets that cover the length of the forearm and the calf. The beads also have various goemetric shapes. The Kuna speak a Kuna language as well as Spanish.
When we got off the boat in Mulatupu, we were greeted excitedly by all of the children who were grabbing our hands and shouting greetings and smiling at us. We received a similarly warm welcome from the adults in the village. We were shown to a small room with a few beds, shown to the home of a local man who would be cooking for us during our stay (they were unaware of our arrival until 4 gringos arrived in the boat that very day) and showed us the bathroom, which is a small outhouse built on the end of a dock with a hole going into the water. We would spend the next few days wandering about the small village and continuing to be greeted, smiled at (mostly) and chatting with the locals who were very curious about us. This island is not easily accessible from either direction, and thus receives very few outsiders. The one source of friction, from our perspective, was that we were unable to live up to our reputation. White people who visit the islands in the northern part of the islands tend to spend mountains of money. We had not seen an atm in many days and had no idea when the next one would come, leaving us unable to go much beyond our usual, tiny budget. We only ate once or twice a day and we could not afford to eat foods other than that which the locals ate. We sensed that this was a big disappointment, which was hard for us, but we tried to make up for it with friendliness and by spending time chatting and getting know people in town.
Decision making in a Kuna village is a very unique process. There is a chief in the village and all decisions must go through him. So when our group found out that cargo boats were still docked and the one that was planning to leave was going in the wrong direction, we started asking about renting another small boat to go a bit further in the islands where we hoped to have better luck (no worries, Adam had planned to take additional padding for this boat ride). A few locals agreed to a reasonable price, however, the village cheif felt the sea would be too dangerous and the idea of any boat leaving the village was vetoed. We waited the sea out for another day, but it continued to give no signs of letting up. Locals stated it could be another week or even two before it might be possible to make the trip. Somewhat defeated, we decided we should go ahead an book a ticket on the next airplane, which would leave on Thursday.
After a couple more days in Mulatupu, we loaded our bags onto a dugout wooden canoe and made the trip to another small island where a tiny airstrip was located. We waited about a half hour in the open-air, thatch-roof hut terminal and finally boarded the plane for Panama City. The 12 seater plane makes occassional flights to several of the islands. We sat right behind the pilot and co-pilot and watched them read their magazines and newspapers while we flew (Gail, is this normal?).
So now we sit, in Panama City. We thought we would feel disappointed about flying, but 1) flying a 12 seater from an island air strip out of the bamboo terminal is not the same as just flying and 2) instead of booking multiple boats, we were forced to sit still and get to know a really fascinating village and a really fascinating culture. No internet, 1 telephone in the whole town, etc. It was a really beautiful and memorable time.
We have many more side stories, as we do with any time of travel, but especially with this trip, so hopefully they will come up, but we can only tell so many things at one time. (I will tell you why we had to spend 2 extra hours with immigration and the poilce at the airport some other time)
We were unable to take many picutres in the Kuna village as photography is a very sensitive thing for the culture. We were not even able to get a photo with the resident monkey at our restaurant/house. But, here are a few photos from the Colombia-Panama crossing.
Capurgana, Colombia. Beautiful beach town, mostly used by upper class Colombians for vacationing.
The only possible lodging in Puerto Obaldia, Panama. Luckily, Cande charges a fair price of $5 per night.
The local kids enjoy fishing in Puerto Obaldia. This whopper was caught with a string wrapped around a bottle, a hook and a piece of banana.
This is our taxi to the airport. The small structure at the end of the dock is a bathroom.
Food was very expensive in the village, so we often had to supplement our meals with a snack or two. Yummy, Pork and Beans!
The island of Mulatupu.
Dont worry, buddy, this plane can probably fly itself.
Panama City.
For those who are curious, a Google image search will likely reveal lots of photos of Kuna arts and people that we were unable to photograph.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
South America at a glance
Tomorrow morning we head toward Panama, though we are not sure when exactly we will be there. Here is a list we have been keeping of our bus rides through South America. The number listed afterward is the number of hours the bus ride took. An asterisk indicates boat travel. a Plus sympol indicates train travel.
URUGUAY
Montevideo-Colonia Valdense:1
Colonia Valdense-Colonia:1
Colonia-Buenos Aires*:3
ARGENTINA
Buenos Aires-Puerto Iguazu:18
Puerto Iguazu-Cordobá:20
Cordobá-Mendoza:10
Mendoza-Bariloche:21
Bariloche-Epuyen:3
Epuyen-El Bolson:1
El Bolson-Esquel:4
Esquel-Bariloche:5
Bariloche-Osorno:5
CHILE
Osorno-Ancud:2
Ancud-Castro-Dalcahue:2
Dalcahue-Osorno:4
Osorno-Valdivia:3
Valdivia-Santiago:12
Santiago-Valparaiso:2
Valparaiso-La Serena:12
La Serena-San Pedro de Atacama:18
San Pedro de Atacama-Uyuni:24
BOLIVIA
Uyuni-Potosí:9
Potosí-Sucre:3
Sucre-Candelaria:3
Candelaria-La Paz:16
La Paz-Copacabana:4
Copacabana-Puno:4
PERU
Puno-Cuzco:8
Cuzco-Ollantaytambo:2
Ollantaytambo-Aguas Calientes+:2
Santa Theresa-Cuzco:10
Cuzco-Arequipa:12
Arequipa-Lima:14
Lima-Chiclayo:14
Chiclayo-Loja:11
ECUADOR
Loja-Zamora:2
Zamora-Macas:11
Macas-Baños:5
Baños-Quito:4
Quito-Ibarra:2
Ibarra-Popayán:10
COLOMBIA
Popayán-San Agustín:9
San Agustín-Cali:9
Cali-Armenia:5
Armernia-Bogotá:9
Bogotá-Medellín:12
Medellín-Cartagena:14
Cartagena-Santa Marta:6
Santa Marta-Cartagena:6
According to calculations in our head, this makes 387 hours on busses, a boat and a train to make it from Montevideo, Uruguay to Cartagena, Colombia.
With potentially Panama, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Honduras, El Salvador, Guatemala, Belize and Mexico to go, we look forward to lots more adventures, and more hours on public transportation.
URUGUAY
Montevideo-Colonia Valdense:1
Colonia Valdense-Colonia:1
Colonia-Buenos Aires*:3
ARGENTINA
Buenos Aires-Puerto Iguazu:18
Puerto Iguazu-Cordobá:20
Cordobá-Mendoza:10
Mendoza-Bariloche:21
Bariloche-Epuyen:3
Epuyen-El Bolson:1
El Bolson-Esquel:4
Esquel-Bariloche:5
Bariloche-Osorno:5
CHILE
Osorno-Ancud:2
Ancud-Castro-Dalcahue:2
Dalcahue-Osorno:4
Osorno-Valdivia:3
Valdivia-Santiago:12
Santiago-Valparaiso:2
Valparaiso-La Serena:12
La Serena-San Pedro de Atacama:18
San Pedro de Atacama-Uyuni:24
BOLIVIA
Uyuni-Potosí:9
Potosí-Sucre:3
Sucre-Candelaria:3
Candelaria-La Paz:16
La Paz-Copacabana:4
Copacabana-Puno:4
PERU
Puno-Cuzco:8
Cuzco-Ollantaytambo:2
Ollantaytambo-Aguas Calientes+:2
Santa Theresa-Cuzco:10
Cuzco-Arequipa:12
Arequipa-Lima:14
Lima-Chiclayo:14
Chiclayo-Loja:11
ECUADOR
Loja-Zamora:2
Zamora-Macas:11
Macas-Baños:5
Baños-Quito:4
Quito-Ibarra:2
Ibarra-Popayán:10
COLOMBIA
Popayán-San Agustín:9
San Agustín-Cali:9
Cali-Armenia:5
Armernia-Bogotá:9
Bogotá-Medellín:12
Medellín-Cartagena:14
Cartagena-Santa Marta:6
Santa Marta-Cartagena:6
According to calculations in our head, this makes 387 hours on busses, a boat and a train to make it from Montevideo, Uruguay to Cartagena, Colombia.
With potentially Panama, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Honduras, El Salvador, Guatemala, Belize and Mexico to go, we look forward to lots more adventures, and more hours on public transportation.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Cartagena, Santa Marta and Parque Nacional Tayrona
We know it has been a while since our last update. But here it is,
We took a long bus from Medellin to Cartagena, arriving with no problems. We were pleased to see that Cartagena is able to live up to its name by being so beautiful. One of South America´s oldest cities (colonial cities), it has recently been the center of massive development and has been a focal point on Colombia´s tourism department. The Old Town is filled with narrow cobble stone street lined with buildings painted brightly and with large flower covered balconies. It is surrounded by a large wall that once protected the town from invaders of the human and weather type alike. As of about 6 months ago (so we hear) it began receiving a new type of invader... the cruise ship tourist! (We only kid if there are cruise shippers out there). Although slightly annoying to wade through the crowds of gringos in their Panama Hats and matching shirts with name tags, it seems to be a testament to the efforts toward Colombia throwing off its bad rep and wanting to show off its beauty.
We took a day trip to a small village about 4 hours southwest of Cartagena and were able to meet with a man who is conducting a project using sustainable agriculture practices to assist a village which has suffered at the hands of the civil war. Although the work is not quite far enough along to be able to host volunteers, it seems to be a great idea that looks like it will grow into a fantastic project for the community. It was nice for us to meet with Oscar and hear him discuss the project from its beginning stages and what its implementation will look like down the road.
We then headed to Santa Marta, a smaller version of Cartagena but with much of the same beauty. Santa Marta was our jumping point into the Tayrona National Park. A large, beautiful national park along the north coast where the jungle meets the shoreline. We were able to grab a little spot to sling our hammocks (we have now traded in the tent for a couple of hammocks) and spent a few days of relaxation in the national park, hiking to various beaches, swimming inh the Caribbean and watching for monkeys and tucans.
We have some extra time today, so we will try to load some photos from Bogota into the present:
Tracy enjoys what has been our favorite treat in Colombia, even up against the tough to beat fruits- Chocolate Santafereño. It is a cup of hot chocolate (real hot chocolate!) with a big hunk of cheese. Bogateños (people from Bogotá put the cheese in the chocolate and let it get nice a stringy and eat it with a spoon. Breakfast of champions. It however is not the most unhealthy breakfast we have had thanks to the deep fried fried egg Adam ordered for breakfast (not knowing exactly what it was). We missed the state fair, so this made up for it.
View of Bogota. A huge expansive city. Unfortunately it rained or was very overcast the whole time we were there, making the pictures, like this one from the top of a skyscraper, not do the slightest bit of justice to its enormity.
This is our host from our farm that didn´t quite exist. Nice guy, big dreamer.
This sky tram is linked in with the Metro system in Medellín bringing people from the hills into the city for both business and pleasure. For the 75 cents a Metro ticket cots we could ride it around checking out the city from above.
Cartagena, city of one million on the Caribbean coast. About one square kilometer exists within the big protective wall.
Old Town sits in the distance over the Caribbean. We were very proud of ourselves when we realized we had seen the Atlantic Ocean in Uruguay, the Pacific in Chile and Peru and now the Caribbean in Colombia with no use of airplanes. We still have plenty of Caribbean and Pacific coast to cover.
We are sad to know we are missing a great year of snow, but scenes like this make us get over it pretty quickly.
Our lodging in the national park. Our food included fresh juice for breakfast with a piece of chocolate bread and beans and rice for dinner.
Hiking to the beach was through jungle, often much thicker that the jungle seen here and climbing over giant boulders.
We arrived to miles of beaches like this one.
We took a long bus from Medellin to Cartagena, arriving with no problems. We were pleased to see that Cartagena is able to live up to its name by being so beautiful. One of South America´s oldest cities (colonial cities), it has recently been the center of massive development and has been a focal point on Colombia´s tourism department. The Old Town is filled with narrow cobble stone street lined with buildings painted brightly and with large flower covered balconies. It is surrounded by a large wall that once protected the town from invaders of the human and weather type alike. As of about 6 months ago (so we hear) it began receiving a new type of invader... the cruise ship tourist! (We only kid if there are cruise shippers out there). Although slightly annoying to wade through the crowds of gringos in their Panama Hats and matching shirts with name tags, it seems to be a testament to the efforts toward Colombia throwing off its bad rep and wanting to show off its beauty.
We took a day trip to a small village about 4 hours southwest of Cartagena and were able to meet with a man who is conducting a project using sustainable agriculture practices to assist a village which has suffered at the hands of the civil war. Although the work is not quite far enough along to be able to host volunteers, it seems to be a great idea that looks like it will grow into a fantastic project for the community. It was nice for us to meet with Oscar and hear him discuss the project from its beginning stages and what its implementation will look like down the road.
We then headed to Santa Marta, a smaller version of Cartagena but with much of the same beauty. Santa Marta was our jumping point into the Tayrona National Park. A large, beautiful national park along the north coast where the jungle meets the shoreline. We were able to grab a little spot to sling our hammocks (we have now traded in the tent for a couple of hammocks) and spent a few days of relaxation in the national park, hiking to various beaches, swimming inh the Caribbean and watching for monkeys and tucans.
We have some extra time today, so we will try to load some photos from Bogota into the present:
Tracy enjoys what has been our favorite treat in Colombia, even up against the tough to beat fruits- Chocolate Santafereño. It is a cup of hot chocolate (real hot chocolate!) with a big hunk of cheese. Bogateños (people from Bogotá put the cheese in the chocolate and let it get nice a stringy and eat it with a spoon. Breakfast of champions. It however is not the most unhealthy breakfast we have had thanks to the deep fried fried egg Adam ordered for breakfast (not knowing exactly what it was). We missed the state fair, so this made up for it.
View of Bogota. A huge expansive city. Unfortunately it rained or was very overcast the whole time we were there, making the pictures, like this one from the top of a skyscraper, not do the slightest bit of justice to its enormity.
This is our host from our farm that didn´t quite exist. Nice guy, big dreamer.
This sky tram is linked in with the Metro system in Medellín bringing people from the hills into the city for both business and pleasure. For the 75 cents a Metro ticket cots we could ride it around checking out the city from above.
Cartagena, city of one million on the Caribbean coast. About one square kilometer exists within the big protective wall.
Old Town sits in the distance over the Caribbean. We were very proud of ourselves when we realized we had seen the Atlantic Ocean in Uruguay, the Pacific in Chile and Peru and now the Caribbean in Colombia with no use of airplanes. We still have plenty of Caribbean and Pacific coast to cover.
We are sad to know we are missing a great year of snow, but scenes like this make us get over it pretty quickly.
Our lodging in the national park. Our food included fresh juice for breakfast with a piece of chocolate bread and beans and rice for dinner.
Hiking to the beach was through jungle, often much thicker that the jungle seen here and climbing over giant boulders.
We arrived to miles of beaches like this one.
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