BY FAR, the coolest excursion yet. And you wouldn't expect that knowing you are headed to a place even hotter, even dryer, and with even more endless mounds of dirt than the place that you're coming from. I never anticipated enjoying a weekend in the desert, chilling amongst cacti and sand crabs, as much as I did, we all did. We quite literally spent 2 1/2 days cramped into 3 SUVs, driving through nothingness on barely-there orange, clay roads, stopping every few hours to see the next big natural landmark. And crazily enough, it was one of the coolest things I've ever done.
It all started with a 5 hour road trip from Barranquilla to Riohacha, where we would be staying the first night. We stopped only to go the bathroom, buy some snacks, stretch our legs, and collect ourselves for the next chunk of time in the bus. The roads were bumpy and windy at the same time, so as you can image... we kicked off the evening's entertainment with my huge bus-fail. I was standing in the aisle in the back of the bus when the driver slammed on the brakes, released them apologetically, and then slammed on them again. With quite animated facial expressions, I fell the entire length of the bus and walked away with just one nasty bruise. It's starting to seem that every new Colombian city I go to feels the need to greet me with a bruise (reference the post about Medellín).
We finally got to the hotel, put our stuff down and headed out for some dinner. For the first time in Colombia - we paid too much and waited too long for the food. But we made up for it with the rest of the night's activities. Chris and Alex - my fellow virgos - noticed two young women staring at me throughout dinner. They made me a bet that if I'd dance in front of them, they would give me whatever I want. I don't even have to go to Bentley to know that's a killer deal that ONLY works in my favor. I did it, of course, but the results were weirder than we expected. A few tables over there was a man who was probably in his late 30s. He'd seen me dance and creepily liked what he saw. A little boy came around selling homemade bracelets, and upon my buying one for $1000 CO Pesos (about 41 cents), the man called him over and told him to give me my money back so he could pay. I'm not necessarily searching for a man with money, but even if I was, 41 cents wasn't gonna get you very far. I said thank you, and carried on with my night.
A little while later, I requested a bachata song at the club next door to the restaurant. About 5 more songs passed, so we re-requested it. That same man noticed we were about to leave, and ran inside to request it on my behalf, once again. When it didn't come on, he flagged down the waiter and said in spanish "Bachata! NOW! Hurry!" We were so confused about what his fascination was with fulfilling my small, insignificant desires that barely even mattered to me, let alone him. We agreed to waiting one more song, and when bachata didn't come on, we made a swift getaway to the beach. We never saw this man again.
We made our way to the beach which was lined with crafty people and all their beautiful creations. The bags featured below are completely handmade and incredibly famous to the area we were in.
It all started with a 5 hour road trip from Barranquilla to Riohacha, where we would be staying the first night. We stopped only to go the bathroom, buy some snacks, stretch our legs, and collect ourselves for the next chunk of time in the bus. The roads were bumpy and windy at the same time, so as you can image... we kicked off the evening's entertainment with my huge bus-fail. I was standing in the aisle in the back of the bus when the driver slammed on the brakes, released them apologetically, and then slammed on them again. With quite animated facial expressions, I fell the entire length of the bus and walked away with just one nasty bruise. It's starting to seem that every new Colombian city I go to feels the need to greet me with a bruise (reference the post about Medellín).
We finally got to the hotel, put our stuff down and headed out for some dinner. For the first time in Colombia - we paid too much and waited too long for the food. But we made up for it with the rest of the night's activities. Chris and Alex - my fellow virgos - noticed two young women staring at me throughout dinner. They made me a bet that if I'd dance in front of them, they would give me whatever I want. I don't even have to go to Bentley to know that's a killer deal that ONLY works in my favor. I did it, of course, but the results were weirder than we expected. A few tables over there was a man who was probably in his late 30s. He'd seen me dance and creepily liked what he saw. A little boy came around selling homemade bracelets, and upon my buying one for $1000 CO Pesos (about 41 cents), the man called him over and told him to give me my money back so he could pay. I'm not necessarily searching for a man with money, but even if I was, 41 cents wasn't gonna get you very far. I said thank you, and carried on with my night.
A little while later, I requested a bachata song at the club next door to the restaurant. About 5 more songs passed, so we re-requested it. That same man noticed we were about to leave, and ran inside to request it on my behalf, once again. When it didn't come on, he flagged down the waiter and said in spanish "Bachata! NOW! Hurry!" We were so confused about what his fascination was with fulfilling my small, insignificant desires that barely even mattered to me, let alone him. We agreed to waiting one more song, and when bachata didn't come on, we made a swift getaway to the beach. We never saw this man again.
We made our way to the beach which was lined with crafty people and all their beautiful creations. The bags featured below are completely handmade and incredibly famous to the area we were in.
We walked along the board walk, practicing clicking our heels, enjoying the salty smell and strong breeze, and singing oldies songs as a big ol' group of Americans + 1 Spaniard and 1 Colombian. We got to the end, talked survival strategies if the wood under our feet were to collapse, and then reviewed all the moves we learned in our last salsa class. We then headed to a nearby park, had some good talks, and danced our way out like the Talented & Traveling Gringo Squad. It never hurts to get the Colombians clapping for you.
We headed back to the hotel, and in a split second decision, decided to go to the club instead. It was free. Ignoring the dress code, knowing we were already obviously not from there, we went in, enjoyed ourselves, and then went to bed, ready for the next day.
We rose, ate breakfast, and packed into the SUVs to head out on our trip. Our driver's name was Toby and he was very clearly the coolest of them all. We stopped first at the Salt Mountains, which we had expected to be a lot larger. My friend Claire (neon yellow shirt) eats more salt than food itself, so you can imagine her disappointment. We stopped secondly at the huge field full of cacti, and thirdly in the blatant, nothing-for-miles desert. We took a million pictures and videos, ran races with no finish lines, tried to figure out the science of the "mirage" that was present, and put all the previous night heel-clicking practice to good use.
We headed back to the hotel, and in a split second decision, decided to go to the club instead. It was free. Ignoring the dress code, knowing we were already obviously not from there, we went in, enjoyed ourselves, and then went to bed, ready for the next day.
We rose, ate breakfast, and packed into the SUVs to head out on our trip. Our driver's name was Toby and he was very clearly the coolest of them all. We stopped first at the Salt Mountains, which we had expected to be a lot larger. My friend Claire (neon yellow shirt) eats more salt than food itself, so you can imagine her disappointment. We stopped secondly at the huge field full of cacti, and thirdly in the blatant, nothing-for-miles desert. We took a million pictures and videos, ran races with no finish lines, tried to figure out the science of the "mirage" that was present, and put all the previous night heel-clicking practice to good use.
We kept driving, arrived to our second "hotel" (square rooms made out of sticks tied together) and enjoyed some lunch. We spent the rest of the afternoon on the beach. This wasn't your typical beach. When we first showed up, there was a music video being shot there with disgustingly attractive men and women dressed like Ancient Grecians. Taking our eyes off them and placing them onto the scenery, we soon noticed that you could see everything here: sand, water, mountains, hills, clay, vegetation - everything. We went for a quick beach run, swam a bunch to refresh ourselves, and then climbed the rocky mountain through the tough breeze and unsteady ground, wearing just flip flops. It brought me back to my 2009 trip to China, where I climbed the Great Wall in flip flops. Maybe that's my thing.
We got back in the car and made a 10 minute drive to an apparently-famous mountain range. We scaled it quickly, just in time to watch the sunset. It only proved that Colombia is quite a romantic country, and without even trying.
Later than night, we returned home to our "hotel" in order to watch a presentation about the Wayuu community and lifestyle. Wayuus are a group of indigenous people, many still living within the Sierra Nevada mountains, who are incredibly responsible for a lot of Colombia's traditional pieces of culture - ex. the sombrero vueltiao. We got to taste their alcohol - it burns - and watch some of their famous dances, have a discussion with them and ask anything we wanted, and then take photos. These children, to say the least, hate their job. Kids typically like me, but not them.
Later than night, we returned home to our "hotel" in order to watch a presentation about the Wayuu community and lifestyle. Wayuus are a group of indigenous people, many still living within the Sierra Nevada mountains, who are incredibly responsible for a lot of Colombia's traditional pieces of culture - ex. the sombrero vueltiao. We got to taste their alcohol - it burns - and watch some of their famous dances, have a discussion with them and ask anything we wanted, and then take photos. These children, to say the least, hate their job. Kids typically like me, but not them.
Staying in the same place as us was a bunch of theatre students from Bogotá. After the Wayuu presentation, they asked if we'd be interested in watching a scene from their show. They were traveling the country doing a tour of this play, so it seemed pretty official. Why not? They sang a song and acted out a scene that was to say the least, eventful. They were in FULL character and gave us a great big laugh and catchy song to get stuck in our heads before going to bed that night.
We spent some time on the beach, finally able to see the stars, talking about life, and counting down until Olivia (fellow American from Illinois) turned 22 at midnight. We laid freely and comfortably in the dark night and dirty sand until the crabs started to bother us. We found some abandoned chairs, made some new friends, and enjoyed the night. During the wee hours of the night, however, once we'd all gone to sleep, a cat that the nice little US girls fed earlier in the day had decided to came back for more. It clawed its way up the walls, squeezed between the stick walls and the stick roof, and jumped flat onto my friend Emily's chest. She screamed, as would any, but lets just say that cat was lucky it wasn't me he jumped on.
We rose the next day for a standard Colombian hotel egg-and-hot chocolate breakfast. The boys decided to stay home, but all of us girls were thrilled to be spending a day on the beach. As per our request, we stopped at every sight of a cool photo op, resulting in some forced perspective photos, some killer colors and views, and lots of near-death pictures taken on top of huge, jagged rocks. We climbed the massive mountain overlooking the whole area, were greeted by a statue of the Virgin Mary at the top, and accordingly, prayed for our safety. We even wrote huge messages out of rocks on the side of the mountain that could be seen from the very top, and will be seen be 100s of people every day. I gave a rock-filled shout out to my beloved DSP, Claire to her grandfather, and Rachel to her boyfriend. We baked in the sun... ouch, but how many people can say that got there tan in the middle of the desert?
We rose the next day for a standard Colombian hotel egg-and-hot chocolate breakfast. The boys decided to stay home, but all of us girls were thrilled to be spending a day on the beach. As per our request, we stopped at every sight of a cool photo op, resulting in some forced perspective photos, some killer colors and views, and lots of near-death pictures taken on top of huge, jagged rocks. We climbed the massive mountain overlooking the whole area, were greeted by a statue of the Virgin Mary at the top, and accordingly, prayed for our safety. We even wrote huge messages out of rocks on the side of the mountain that could be seen from the very top, and will be seen be 100s of people every day. I gave a rock-filled shout out to my beloved DSP, Claire to her grandfather, and Rachel to her boyfriend. We baked in the sun... ouch, but how many people can say that got there tan in the middle of the desert?
After a 4 hour morning at the beach, we returned to our hut to collect our stuff, grab a snack, and brush off the 6 lbs of sand we didn't plan on bringing home with us to Barranquilla. We re-loaded all of our things into the SUVs, prepared for the bumpy road ahead, and blasted the music. Our main man, Toby, was DJing this time with his magic little flash drive full of the best music known to (latino) man. We took pictures of nearly every song that came on, planning on adding them to our conjoined Colombia Top Hits Youtube playlist, and had the absolute time of our lives. Great tunes, great company, and great views (including this imposter éxito we stopped at for gas.)
We transferred back into our travel van for the last 5 hours of the trip home. We stopped after a few minutes at a mall that gave us quite a few good stories to tell. More so than the Colombian version of "The Krusty Krab" that we saw in the food court and more so than the people pushing each other out of the way to use the ATM first, the funniest had to be "the 1-day dry law" that was in effect that day. My friend Naomi, from Canada, asked me to bring her home a few beers from La Guajira. I intended to buy them at this last-stop mall we went to. However, apparently, there was a very important city-wide vote to be had the next day and the government figured if people could drink the night before, they wouldn't vote. With that, they placed a 1-day dry law into effect, preventing all sale of alcohol. I tried to reason with the cashier and explain that I don't have the right to vote here, so it doesn't apply to me, but at the end of the day, I left La Guajira beer-less.
Like I said before, I never expected to have the time of my life in the middle of the desert, but that just goes to show... don't knock it 'til you try it. I'm excited to see what else I will get around to trying in my last month here. I have to make it count!
Like I said before, I never expected to have the time of my life in the middle of the desert, but that just goes to show... don't knock it 'til you try it. I'm excited to see what else I will get around to trying in my last month here. I have to make it count!