Minca and Tayrona National Park

This past week, my friend AnnMarie and I made a trip through a few of the best parts of the Colombian coast. We spent a night in Taganga, where I ended up playing music again in Mojito Bar, this time with a guitar player from Spain and a piano player who was born in Norway, grew up in the States and now lives in the mountain in Taganga. We ended up putting on quite the show, with everything from blues, to jazz standards, to bossa nova. The following day we headed to Minca, a quiet and beautiful town up in the mountains. My friend Julho, from Brazil, came along for the adventure. At first we couldn´t find a cheap hotel, so we ended up meeting these people who had an abandoned hotel on their property. They agreed to let us stay in one of the rooms for a cheap price, as long as we we out by 8 am. The room was basic, the door didn´t even shut, but the scenery was amazing and the people super friendly.

The following morning we walked downstream and then along a trail that we thought was going to take us to the juncture of a river and a waterfall. In the end, we ended up on a mountain ridge overlooking Santa Marta, a lot of beautiful green mountains and the ocean. Along the way, we gathered a TON of mangos, avocados and ate a cacao fruit. Cacao fruit looks kind of like a squash and inside there is white slimey stuff around the seeds. The seeds are what they take out, roast and grind to make cocoa, or chocolate, but you can also just eat the white slimy stuff and its pretty good.

When we came to the conclusion that we had taken the wrong trail, we turned around, hiked back to town and ate breakfast in the park. Then we started walking on the road towards Pozo Azul. The Pozo Azul wasn´t blue at all, but it was a nice couple of pools and a small waterfall up the river. We all went for a swim in the very cold water!

The next day we took motorcycle taxis down the mountain, Julho returned to Taganga, and AnnMarie and I went to the supermarket to buy food to take to Tayrona Park. We ate lunch and waited for the bus. Unfortunately, all the buses that came by were already full so we had to wait two hours until one arrived. When we finally made it to the park entrance, we found out that the park had closed 45 minutes ago. I told AnnMarie that we would attempt to beg, but as we were walking up, the park official came out and told us to hurry up, that he would let us in. We quickly paid the entrance fee, he put us on two moto taxis and we zipped up the road to the beginning of the trail. It was already getting dark, and mosquito-ey, so we walked quickly towards the beach. We spent two nights sleeping in hammocks in Arrecifes beach. The next day we walked along the beaches and through the jungle and palm coconuts to Cabo de San Juan beach, where I had stayed six years ago and ran into the paramilitaries. The whole park seems totally different now, packed with tents, tourists and vendors... when I was here last, most of the natives had even decided to leave. (The park was closed because of the guerilla and paramilitary action and also due to the fact that the paramilitaries killed the park director´s daughter).

From Cabo de San Juan, we walked up the stone staircase for about an hour to Pueblito ruins. The ruins are over 500 years old and are made up of lots of round terraces, staircases and stone pathways.

The views in the ruins were great, and the hike up and down even allowed the sun to break through in spurts so we could see the view of the ocean and beach far below.

Quebrada Valencia and Palomino

So this is Quebrada Valencia. The picture does it no justice, as usual. The waterfall itself continues up into the jungle and there are several pools to swim in. Of course there are next to no tourists. That´s because to get to Quebrada Valencia, you have to get off the bus at the correct bridge. Yep, no sign, no town except for the few houses far inside the jungle, but when you do get off the bus you enter into a completely different world. First you walk alongside a small

farm, already inside the jungle, and then you follow the dirt trail alongside all sorts of amazing plants, trees and flowers. The birds and bugs provide the soundtrack. The waterfall is about a half hour hike from the road and has 4 main pools to swim in. The few people who do arrive don´t know about the trail to the fourth waterfall/pool. It was obvious because of how overgrown it was. Right now is fruit harvest season. There are mangos, avocados, bananas, guanabanas, pineapples, etc. in abundance. I tried to do my part to not let very many go to waste. I estimate that if I would have eaten that quantity of organic fruit in the United States, it would have cost me approxiamately $40 a day, and probably wouldn´t have tasted nearly as good!

In Quebrada Valencia lives a man named Alex. He is from Bogota and would probably best be described as a hippie. He has been living there since the 70´s and now has created some projects that are using the land that was once overgrown with coca plantations and converting them to cacao plantations to produce organic chocolate to export. In addition, the people that are doing the labor are people who were displaced from their homes because of the war and violence. These people come down from the mountains because the paramilitary make threats against them. Once they come down from their communities to the civilized world, they are left without any form of survival, most of them having spent their entire lives without electricity, running water, money, or concepts such as theft. Their lives are turned upside down. At least now, 20 families will be taking part in this project and will be able to continue their lives in the mountains.

From Alex´s house it is a 20 minute walk to the beach, which was deserted for the most part. The waves were pretty big, but we walked for about 40 minutes to the west until we found a little fresh water lagoon that was really close to the ocean. There were a lot of palm trees, really pretty turqoise water and a really hot sun. Here in Colombia, I reapply sunblock about every hour.... and I still get a tan.

I also played a concert for my favorite tree. Hey... the jungle deserves a little Bach too, and if I drag a cello around all these countries, there has to be a good reason, no?

Anyways, from Quebrada Valencia, I travelled to Palomino, a fishing village up the coast. It has the river and the ocean and a lot of fishermen who apparently are very modern and all try to buy a louder soundsystem than their neighbor to blast horrible music all day long. Fortunately, where my friends live is way far in the back of the village, far from the noise. Early in the afternoon, we walked to the river. There were some girls washing clothes with their little siblings swimming and spear fishing. You know, the usual South American scene. The kids all wanted their picture taken, of course so they could see it afterwards.

Afterwards, we decided to go to the beach, but apparently we went down the wrong street because we ended up at the military base. Along the way, we walked down a really pretty road lined with big trees. We passed some girls who told us that we were going the right way, and they were obviously coming from the beach. We got to the base and asked if they would let us through to the beach, and they said okay. So they showed us the trail and we started walking. There were a bunch of camps (military guys with hammocks set up and big guns set up on the side of the trail) along the way. I hate guns and wasn´t too fond of the trail to the beach, but we continued anyway. We had to walk through a mangrove and then came out to where the river comes out to meet the ocean. It was beautiful, and worth the walk. Thankfully all the military guys were nice and said hi. Some even invited us to stay for dinner.

The best part of Palomino was later that night. A family of 8 Kogis (the indigenous group that lives above in the mountains) came to town to sell their products. They arrived to my friends house, saw that they had an indigenous style hut and walked right into the yard. When they looked in the hut, they saw a tv and all sat down in the doorway (the two wives and 5 children, while the husband went to town). They all sat there mesmorized, watching Chucky of all things. My friend stood up, in front of the tv and asked who understood spanish amongst them. They all stared at him blankly, annoyed that he was blocking their view. When the husband returned, he asked if they could stay the night at my friend´s house, in their living room. My friend said that they should go to the indigenous house (a place for the Kogis to stay if they come into town and it takes a whole day walking to return). The man refused, saying that they would just sleep in the yard. The whole scene was really comical because the husband hardly knew any Spanish, and my friend doesn´t know any Kogi. In the end, he took them all to the indigenous house.

Taganga

If you ever want to see something gross, go to the doctor and ask them to wash your ears out. So I got water stuck in my ear and after a few days of only being able to hear out of my right ear, I went to the doctor. They put a big plastic syringe in my ear and shot saline solution in a couple of times. It was gross. And my ear is still clogged so they gave me the syringe so I can continue washing my ear out every day, and putting in glycerine drops too.

I am in Taganga now, a small fishing town outside of Santa Marta. I remember seeing some tourists here before, but now it seems like an Israeli colony... even the restaurant signs are written in Hebrew. Its a little bit disturbing actually. The rest of the town though remains the same: very poor, laid-back and relaxed. There are some nice beaches that are within walking distance, after crossing over a couple mountain ridges. The mountains surrounding Taganga are dry and arid and the village itself is in a small bay so the water is almost always still and crystal clear.

Today I am leaving for a small town outside of Santa Marta. I still haven´t decided which small town to go to... either Palomino, Buritaca or Quebrada Valencia. All three are very very small towns, much greener than here (unfortunate for the mosquito situation). Regardless, I will be disconnected from the internet for a few days, so nobody should worry!

a few pictures...

So here is a picture of the serenade itself:


The taxi driver fell asleep during the whole ordeal. I guess he was the one who was serenaded the most. Meanwhile, the mosquitos serenaded my feet.

This is the music school at the university where I teach. The building is over 400 years old! I like the trees in the courtyard.
Naptime in Colombia. Between noon and 2 pm, it is hopeless to try to do anything.
A market in town. I wanted to take more pictures but the vendors started getting mad at me. Oops!

jewelry, a homemade stove and a serenade

This is my friend and roomate Rubier, and his jewelry, plus my bracelets. He is from Meta, which is in the plains/savanna part of Colombia. He knows my dad and Chelsea from Taganga (a little fishing village up the coast).





















This is me on the street, taking a break from walking around selling jewelry. I prefer to walk around to the restaurants rather than just sit on the street, but sometimes you have to take a break! This is also an official Karmi fashion statement.





Step 1, attempting to make a stove out of soda cans (you can only eat so much fried fish until the need for vegetables kicks in). Step one is to drink two cans of soda, or find a friend. Or, find a friend and drink two beers. Regardless, you need two cans.











This is me in my room, with Gustavo, my cello and the picture frame that has random people in it. They gave it to me with my camera but I have no picture to put in it and probably won`t take it with me, so I just left the model family in it and there you go. Anyways, step two involves making a bunch of holes around the bottom edge of one can and a big hole in the middle. Then cut both of the cans about an inch and a half up from the bottom and put the can with holes over the can bottom without holes. You can put some cotton in the bottom if you want. I don´t know what good the cotton does, but my brother`s stove has cotton in it, so it must be for something.



Final step: Put some alcohol in it and set it on fire. I could only find rubbing alcohol because it was a Sunday, today comes the real trial with denatured alcohol. The final final step involves making something to set the pan on. I still haven´t gotten that far. One thing at a time!







This has been a busy week. On Wednesday I went to see a band with a bunch of students. It was a blues and dixieland band... kind of mediocre, but they were trying. Afterwards I went out with four girls from the school to have a few drinks.



Thursday I went back to Pozon to help Dina, my student. I went only to her afternoon classes and played a little music for them, coached them a little bit on the songs they are working on and then played a little more and let them ask me questions. The kids there are great, and all came running up to me giving me hugs (they remembered me from the week before at their concert).



Last night I was out selling jewelry and met a guy who was walking around with a guitar. He asked if I would do him the favor of accompanying him in a serenade that he was going to give a friend. We found a percussionist, practiced (if you want to call it that) in a park, where a mariachi player also joined us, and then took a taxi to the girls house. We played outside her house, leaning up against a taxi. The whole thing was pretty comical... just the random kind of thing that can only happen in South America.