Back in the US, Back in the US, Back in the USA!

And so for a moment, I am back in the USA. The culture shock is palpable, the sugar cravings are real and the days seem to evaporate. The constant question is, "What am I doing here?" the answer remains elusive. But the journey begins again soon.

and as fate would have it... not in all of my travels did I get sick, but at home... it is a good thing. I need a few days of rest.

So i am happy and sick and disoriented... I am happy even though I forgot to smile.

I will flit around the west coast for the next few days and then set off into a world of unknown... yea.

if you want to call do it before march 11 at noon ... because I will be permanently getting rid of my phone number... :( talk to you soon.

Up coming attractions: China

In two weeks i will go from Colombia to China... with a moment to dance around the west coast of the US... China will host me for several months as i visit family, old friends and places i missed last time...
and if the plan goes on schedule... i will eventually end up in the Mediterranean somewhere, but one step at a time... one step at a time.

Colombia

The Last Battle of a Liberation

In a small valley 5 km from nowhere there is a village build against the slope of a hill. What is now farm land and used to be swamp is the spot of an historic battle between weary starved Colombian peasants and the Spanish army. As I understand it, this was the last of the effort that could be mustered by Bolivar and his forces trying to free themselves from colonial rule.
The odds where against them, but the land was for them. The hid in the trees on the top of the hill and waited. When the time came they fought with the force of people who have nothing left to lose but the hope of freedom. Today a towering statue caps the hill that overlooks the valley.

The pictures don't capture the strength, energy and power of this monument. It could be said that this is the Gettysburg of Colombia... or the Bunker hill. The monument currently rests in Vargas, Colombia in Boyaca. July 25, 1816.

Mongui

Villa de Leyva

The village of Villa de Leyva is a colonial relic, an historic monument, built at the base of a great mountain. The lush green hillside wraps a loving arm around the village and the wisps pf cloud dance along its ridge. The wind whispers and the sun warms the stone streets. This is not a place for high heals.
The plaza is open and gaurded to the east by Inglesia Parroquial built in 1608 and has only changed enough to accomadate electricity. The bells ring and call people tp service as the sun sets over the other set of mountains to the west making this valley look like a giant's river bed. El Pradre kneels in the first pew in white cloak. His black bead rosary hanging from his rope belt. Time stands still. The 12 images of the crucificiton of christ dress the walls.

When the palza darkens, people gather at the shops on the corner. Music, accordian and chuc-a-chuk, chuc-a-chuk rythums dance out onto the cobbled square. The plaza stands open bigger than a futball field and open. People lean against the walls smoking cigaretts, siting n the stairs of the church and talking. Children run and play. The clouds grow and reflect the pink light behind them, the last hints of the day passing. rom the north, menacing clouds gaher conspire and slowly stalk the quiet town. They move down the giants prehistoric riverbed and wait til the town is asleep then drop a genuine storm of lightning and rain... of biblical proporions... leaving only a trace by morning. The streams that run under the bridges and under the roads are full again. The grass is green and tiny puddles dry in the sun on the stone stairs of the church in the holes worn by centuries of feet.

Villa de Leyva is truly prehistoric; if you dont believe me all you have to do is look down. The streets are paved with stone bear the age. Creatures from worlds gone past frozen in time lay the ground work for our feet. Litterally fossils in the stone ... fossils line the walk ways.
Orthopeds, zylopeds and ... Spirals of life larger than i have seen in museums mark the street corners with n apparent intention, just that with no apparent intention. just that they are rocks.


...
The dogs of Villa Leyva patrol the streets like cheerful thugs, vigalent even when dozing in the shadow of a tree or on a front stoop. Most are in it for themselves, the partol.... finding a scrap of affection on the occassional corner or doorway... but they roam ... trotting down every street and alley. Only once greeting a pair of viajeros (travelers) but the church with a sniff and a friendly nuzzle. Then to be on his way again. The friendly thugs work the streets sometimes playing together in a tussle... over teritory or women... the things thugs fight over. But for the most part the friendly thugs of Villa de Leyva are a benevolent force.

And you thought Zorro was only a legend

He is alive and well. I saw him with my own eyes beat the crap out of a Spanish soldier on this gallows... he freed people destined for a premature death, hung for crimes they didn't commit... and of course there there was a maiden needing rescuing... isn't there always.
I always believed in legend a myth alike... so this ... when I woke up in the morning and wandered the streets of Villa de Leyva, I was not in the least surprised to see a colonial market place sprung up in the village plaza and Zorro fighting his way through the crowd. it made sense.
(they were filming a local Colombia Soap Opera... in case you are not the Legend-believing kind.)

A warm afternoon in a cold mountain town

Yucca in Raquira

The Yucca are blooming in Raquira. Long and tall like saplings there flowers reach for the sky and dwarf the world. The horizon is altered for from every hill side, road side, pathway and Eucalyptus forest Yucca flowers reach for the sky like trees themselves. The horizon bears witness to this change, this attack of towering flowers by back lighting them at dusk and embracing them in midday sun.

Always under the watchful and protective eye of the benevolent mother. We have been protected again and again. Dios es amor. Muchos gracias para Dios.

?Que hora es?

One of the best things about Colombia is the time. In case you thought time didn't matter and was just a construction of man ... it was never more true than in Colombia. Church towers are the best example but taxis, coffee shops, stores of any kind, hotels and restaurants all seem to thumb their nose at time.
The image here shows two different times... neither of which are any closer to be accurate than the other. ... it was some where between 11:10 and 6:05 that much was true... but i suppose it is always some time between 11:10 and 6:05. So much for time.
Despite that I have not missed a bus or checked out too late from a hotel... every thing has happened right on schedule... i suppose it helps when no one knows the time, then it is really hard to be late.
There was a town far up in the hills where both clock towers kept time, but even more than that... they were both accurate. That was very disorienting and a bit disappointing. I have come to like a world free of time... and days and even free of obligations except to thyself. Maybe I was meant to be a traveling princess, but then again I think most of us probably were...
So with this i plead with you to set time free!

Reflections of life

Most Beautiful Church in Colombia

The Road, the canyon and the fear

Is that inviting or what? Never worry. I didnt stay there... i stayed aross the street. And in Colombia, the red light districts (all that I have seen) haven't been that red... more pink...

Raquira

Fruiteria

Hungry for a snack on a cross-country bus trip? Roadside fruit still warm from the fields is the best solution. Cheap, sweet and RICO (delicious).

The Saviour

The saviour greeted me... and i wonder if you are equally moved.

me familia Colombiano

A Sunday evening found me drinking whiskey with Abuelita (grandmother). The afternoon had passed into the evening and the evening into the night. the dark enveloped the city and through the open window the cities revelries drifted in. Abuelita's parrot echoed her ... "el perro" "roberto, roberto" and best of all, with each laugh she uttered, the parrot mimicked in a nearly disturbing way.

(en la foto... from left to right... Jhon, his hermana (little sister) Geraldine, ME, john's prima (cousin), jhon's mom y abuelita (grandmother). )

Jhon´s name really is spelled like this... his mom thought it was ¨Ethnic.¨

El Rodadero

In case you are thinking of going, this is what heaven looks like

an opportunity to go to heaven.

Have you ever had an opportunity to go to heaven? if you were given the choice, would you... right now? when given the choice myself, the answer was unhesitatingly "YES." the good news is that i didn't even need to die to get there, but it would have been worth it. in a protected park near the north tip of Colombia there is a Jungle that boarders the Caribbean coast. Tayrona park near the town of El Zino, if you can call it a town... it is where buses from somewhere going to
somewhere else slowdown for passengers to hop off... and for the occasional traveler to hop on... but keep in mind that the bus never really stops... you have to think on your feet in El Zino. There are a few road side restaurants near the road that leads into the park, but that is all of El Zino as far as i can tell.

If you follow that road about 8km into the jungle, along the road at first and then only via a well worn foot path marked with Burro dung you will stumble onto a place that may not even be on earth where heaven touches the earth for a 40km stretch of beach, bahais and jungle. The part of heaven that i stayed in is a scattering of hammocks and palm palapas (shade structures) called Arreciefess.

it was such a shock to be in such a glorious place. days passed lying in the sun eating grilled fish fresh out of the sea, hunting and slaying a wild coconut that roamed into our territory, swimming in the clear water, hearing the waves crash first on the reef at the mouth of the bay and then
again on the shore at my feet, hiking through the jungle, watching fish swim in my shadow always dancing between my legs in an attempt to tease and scare me. after days of idle bliss and nights washed with the clearest skies and the brightest stars a piercing bright moon and a constant hum of the jungle ... i woke up one morning and said inexplicably, "I am tired of
paradise."

That was that. and we returned to the rest of the world.

Paradise has it's cost

I will be the first to admit that this is heaven... but it isn't always all as pretty as it looks...
although i look like a leper... it doesn't hurt and it is not contagious... i think i will survive... and if not i have already been to heaven, what else can a girl ask for. ... ?

Cave Man: The perfect guide to Colombia

Cave Man: So he earned the title after opening a coconut that fell from the sky with his bare hands. He is a wonderful guide. He carries heavy things, speaks Spanish like a local... and after 24 hours away from electricity and society his communication is reduced to grunts...

If you watched tv at all in the 80's you might remember a commercial for a coffee from Colombia. Juan Valdez is the model for Colombian coffee and the Starbucks of Latin America. it has been decides by popular decree that Jhon is Juan Valdez... without the Burro.

Sierra in Tagonga; a fishing village

The best place for Lunch. 10 feet from the ocean, toes in the sand and breeze in the hair.

Greece or Colombia

We found ourselves eating at a stand
in a little fishing village north of Santa Marta, Tagonga, and as i looked out over the water... i wondered to myself... is this Greece or... Colombia... the music and the language sort of give it away... but with just my eyes sometimes it is hard to tell.

Coco Loco

three days later...
i drank a toxic mixture of alcohol out of a coconut... last night... lay on the beach watching the stars ... listening to the ocean mixing with the music of several wandering salsa bands,.... discussing the existence of god.... it was perfect. i watched the sun and then venus set into the ocean... into the west... into the carribean.... wonderful....

Cartagena. Colombia

The Colombian Flag

the three colors of the Colombian flag have distinct significance. The Yellow represents gold. The country had tremendous wealth and is rumored to be the fabled El Dorado. The Blue represents El Mar, the ocean, for Colombia is the only country in South America to be bordered by two oceans. And the Red. The Red on the Colombian flag represents the blood shed by all those who fought to liberate the country.

This particular flag flies from the mast on the castle guarding Cartagena.

How could I have forgotten?

the world is amazing... had i forgotten...?
life is an amazing adventure... likw typing on theis key board....
you never know what you will get.
i am in cartagena... i am traveling with the guy that i was in love with... we are trying the friend thing and aside from the occassional misunderstanding. things are going really well in that direction.
rather than spending the whole time here... i think he and i will travel the country together... wandering the mountains and the valleys the coastline and the waterfalls... it is nearly as romantic as it sounds... with out the romance... or without the overt romance.
it is hot... of course... the sun burns bright... i look like a crab leopard... where the sun screen missed a few spots... well... a lot of spots...
i walked the city alone for the first time since i have been in colombia... ç
i wasnt sure if it would be different than traveling the streets with a male companion. i didnt know how much protection he offered.
i found a church and sat forever. time stood still and the day melted away. the ouside world melted away... all i could hear was the fluttering of wings and the cooing of pigeoens that danced in the high ceilings... and some where in a distant room maria carie... and other easy listening favorites... a bizzare contrast... and an amusing reminder of something else... that any where ever there was something else.

food has become a reminder of the perfect world. just had lunch... which is turning into the only meal i eat these days.... and the set menu at my favorite place rocks my world. not that it is spectaculare... in any way... really just that it tastes so good... it is like it what made to fit the place... and it was. the satly salsa... pickled stuff... the broth soup that changes my world with each spoonful... and the coconut rice... shredded salad... potatoes... man the world tastes great.

i have found another home. i am examining property... my favorite words are se verde... (for Sale)
i have my heart set on a place... near the hotel we are staying in .... just across from a decrepit park... and down the street from the red light district... half a block from the harbor... with an increadible view of the old city... i dont know the price... and as john pointed out... i can probably afford it cause it has no roof... or windows... and the balcony is a few days from crashing into the street bellow... doomed to crush the fruit and juice sellers perched in its shade.
i will take a picture and next time i can up load pictures... to my blog... you too can see my dream house... maybe we can go in on it together.... if it doesnt fall down before then ...

i am glad that i came.
i will always follow my instincts and have faith in the world.
i was born under a good star.


over and out...
gold star to you....
" i have been to the mountaintop... and i have seen the promised land......!"