My time in inland Colombia started with that bad 6 letter word, s-c-h-o-o-l. That’s right, school. After many years of Duolingo, and several trips to Latin America without any language transfer success, I decided since I had more time this trip I would finally take the next step and go to Spanish school. The question was where and when.
My first day in Taganga I met a Canadian guy who told me about his experience at a language school in Medellin. He raved about his 3 weeks there and mentioned he had a date that night with a Colombian girl he recently met in a bar. Now this guy didn’t seem to be particularly good looking or have much game so I figured any school that can teach enough Spanish in 3 weeks for this guy to pick up a non-english speaking Colombian girl, must be good. So the next morning, I signed up for a week of classes.
The next night while still in Taganga I talked to a local guy and girl while watching the sunset and they provided me not only guidance on what I should do while in Taganga, but contacts and requests to join if I went to one particular place (if you read my last post you are aware). So the next morning I postponed my classes.
The next night while planning what I would do next, I realized I was ready for something different and the city life was calling me for now (if you read my last post, ditto) . So the next morning I contacted the school to re-enroll, but was told nope, uh-uh, no can do, my spot was already taken and they were now full. Argh!! But, an hour later they had another cancellation and I was back in, I was going back to school.
After the week I still can’t speak much Spanish but I am better than I was and know I have the tools to progress. Now it is just a matter of studying, practicing, and trying to speak with the locals.
One night during the school week (I swear it was the only night I wasn’t studying) a group went to a bar to play Tejo, a Colombian game very similar to cornhole. You stand about 50 feet away from the target which is a circle on a slope (much like a cornhole board) but instead of a board, it is a slope of mud. Also, instead of a bean bag you throw a heavy stone, circular on one side and flat on the other.
The target is slightly different as well. Instead of a hole, the target is a metal ring lying in the mud with four white triangles placed around it. Oh, and one other difference, whenever you hit a triangle, it…explodes. Yes explodes (like a firework). Cornhole with explosions? Yes please. I am happy to say with all my training, on my third shot, BOOM!!
One friend I made at the school is from England and a big Nottingham Forest football team fan. We of course all celebrated when school got out for summer and that night my mate decided if I pledged my allegiance for life to The Red, I could have his Nottingham Forest jersey. The next morning while watching a stream of their game, he presented me with the jersey. Then less than 2 minutes after putting it on, our boys scored. Forest for life!! (Note: they have since won their next 2 games but I don’t want to take credit).
That afternoon a group of us did a tour of Comuna 13, the infamous area where much of the paramilitary and drug wars in Medellin took place. The area has transformed itself into a tourist destination and art, murals and graffiti have become the community’s focal point. Poverty still grips much of the area but tourists flock for the tours and some linger after, like we did, in the bars that afford spectacular views of the city. Since we were there on the 23rd, we not only had the usual sunset view but after dark had a spectacular view of all the colors and flashing lights of Christmas all along the mountain sides.
The next morning I hopped on a bus to Jardin. Like Medellin, Jardin is in the valley between mountains but unlike Medellin, it is a small town that some argue is the best example of a Colombian pueblo. Homes connected together the length of blocks, along narrow one way cobblestone streets, are painted and adorned in classic colorful Colombian style. The central focus though is the large town square that lies in front of the church. I arrived on Christmas Eve day and the square was packed with people celebrating. I saw 2 cowboys on horseback multiple times do shots at one bar and then ride diagonally to the other corner to do the same at another bar. Supposedly later on, someone saw one of the horses in the bar.
That night, I had a Christmas Eve dinner with the hostel owner, her family and friends, and other guests of the hostel. After dinner we made our way to the square and joined the community where we sat in a few of the hundreds of tables setup in the square by bars and restaurants and used by their clientele every day and night (not just Christmas Eve). I was told on New Years, everyone from the town goes to the square to celebrate. I had debated returning just for that.
I spent the next two days hiking to waterfalls. The first day was a 10 mile hike to a waterfall in a cave. Unfortunately it wasn’t really much of a cave nor a very interesting hike. However, the next day 4 of us from the hostel did the “7 waterfalls” hike. Yes you guessed it, there are supposedly 7 waterfalls to see. However, I think some funny math happened because we skipped two and I still counted 8 that we saw. The 9 mile hike was very challenging with a lot of scrambling over rocks and roots, and at times required ropes to go up, down, or across.
Wildlife also somehow came into focus. After hiking uphill for the first 2 miles, a butterfly adopted me and landed on my back. It must have liked me because it stayed there as I hiked for the next 20 minutes. At the end we walked through cow pastures and in one section got harassed by a couple of donkeys. One actually back kicked one of my friends before we were able to settle both of them down.
The next day I headed back to Medellin for stint number two in the city. That, why a shawarma guy hugged me, and where I ended up for New Years in my next post.
Life is Good!
Cornholio for the win! Great catching up on your travels, Jordan. Go Forest!