San Gil, a photo journal: Thursday April 5

Thursday, 6:30 am

I can almost never sleep in, and in hot weather, the early morning is one of my favorite times of day.  I slip quietly out of bed and change.  We don't have to be ready for rafting until 9.  I grab my Bible, leftover bread and an apple that I didn't eat on the bus and slip out the door without waking up the others.  

I head down to the river and walk along the "malecon", a path that borders the river.  It's quiet; the town still hasn't come completely awake.  The path eventually ends in a little park.  I sit, admiring the beauty, enjoying the warmth.  I read the synoptic gospel accounts of Holy Thursday- the last supper, Jesus' betrayal and arrest.  

 When I'm finished reading and finishing my breakfast, I meander back to the hostel.  The flowers are gorgeous.  There's one particular hibiscus, a beautiful orange shade that isn't as customary as the deep pinks and yellows I'm used to.  I walk off the path into the overgrown grass to try and get a photo of it.  As I'm walking back out I feel a sharp pain in my foot.  I shake it, quickly knocking off whatever insect bit me.  It was probably an ant, I think.  I don't see anything, but my foot hurts the whole way back to the hotel.  It was worth it though, I got a beautiful picture.

Thursday, 8:45 am

We're all about ready when my phone rings.  Grace, the lady who is arranging all our tours, is calling to let me know that the van should be there to pick us up any minute and to be ready since there's no parking.  We run downstairs, I'm halfway down when I remember I didn't put sunscreen on and run back upstairs for my sunscreen.  As soon as we're downstairs, the van pulls up and we pile in, waiting a couple of minutes for another family from the hotel who are doing the same trip.  

We stop quickly at the office to store our stuff, get our wrist bands that entitle us to emergency insurance, and then head off with a few more groups 9 kilometers up river.

Thursday, 10 am

After a quick instructional session (which I translate for Jen, who doesn't speak Spanish), we pose for pictures before setting off.  

The river is gorgeous.  There are some calm sections where we drift, admiring the Spanish moss hanging from the trees.  Then, there are the turbulent rapids where are guide shouts swift instructions to us.  Our goal is to be the loudest, most fun group.  Fortunately for us, the Colombian couple on the raft with us has similar goals in mind.  We shout, laugh, and splash the other boats when we get close enough.

Thursday, 11 am

There's a calm stretch of water and our guide tells us we can get out if we want.  We jump into the water and float downstream.  The water is cold and the current is fast.  "Any piranhas?" I ask, playfully.  I'm not too concerned either way- when I was in Ecuador we went swimming in a river after fishing for piranhas (and catching some).  Apparently they're bottom feeders and don't swim to the top unless attracted by blood.  "No" answers our guide, "the crocodiles ate them all."  I burst out laughing. I shout the "news" onto the others in the group, who all continue as unconcerned as I down the river.

Thursday, 12 pm

We arrive back at the office and arrange for another hotel pickup at 1:00 to go paragliding.  There's just enough time for a quick lunch before we go.  We head to the restaurant next door where set lunch plates are $3.50.  We start off by soup, followed by rice, salad, fried sweet plantain slices, french fries, and for me, fried mojarra (which google translate claims is: crappie, bluegill, bream, or tilapia.  I don't really know which it is, all I know is it is typically served fried whole here in Colombia and I love it)

Thursday, 1:30 pm.

We arrive at the paragliding place, along with what seems like half of San Gil.  We sign in, write down our weight in kilos, and wait.  And wait.  And wait.  In the first 45 minutes we're here, only 2 people go up.  The wind has dropped down and they're waiting for better weather before taking people up.  Eventually they bring out what looks like a go-cart with an engine and parachute.  They start it up and take off.  It's pretty awesome to watch.

Thursday, 2:45 pm

They're starting to take people up again.  We notice some people who got there after us are going up before us.  Ingrid goes to find out why.  Apparently they're taking up the lightest people first since the wind still isn't strong.  We point out that I'm pretty light, and they say they'll take me up next.

I'm afraid taking off will be scary, but it isn't.  Almost as soon as I'm strapped in we're off the ground.  The wind fills the parachute and lifts it before we even reach the edge of the hill.  Soon we're drifting above the mountain side, trees and farmers' fields spread out below us.  It's amazing.

Alex, who's been doing this for 15 years, is piloting the parachute.  His brother and cousin also work here.  I figure if he's been doing this for 15 years, it mustn't be that dangerous.

 The wind has picked up and there are over a dozen people out paragliding at once.  It's a gorgeous sight.

 I'm loving the wind in my face, the gliding sensation, and the view.

 All too soon, it's time to land again.  I take a quick last picture as we're headed down.

 Hours pass before we all go up.  I spend some time photographing the flowers in the beautiful gardens about the place.  It's cold up here since we're higher in altitude than San Gil and the wind is strong.  I sit in front of the snack bar which is a little sheltered from the wind and hope we can head back to warmth and dinner soon.

Thursday, 6:30 pm
It takes awhile, but we're finally loaded into a van (different than we came in. Apparently our driver went to rescue someone with a flat tire) and headed back to San Gil.  The driver turns on the radio and we start a dance party where we're seated in the van.  He plays along, flashing the interior light.

Fortunately when we get back we warm up right away from the heat.  Not enough for me to order a cold drink though when we find a pizza place to eat.  I ask for my soda room temperature.  The place is unique- they sell pizza cones.  Shaped like an ice cream cone, but made of a thicker crustier dough, they're filled with cheese and, in my case, basil and tomato chucks.  They're pretty tasty.

After a day of activities, by the time we're done with dinner, we're pretty much ready to wander back to bed and collapse.

Dancing with the stars...

This story starts in 2003, on the San Francisco University campus in Quito, Ecuador. I was studying abroad and was enrolled in a Latin Dance class. Week after week, I looked at myself hopelessly in the full length mirror as my hips refused to move like my latin classmates seemed to be able to effortlessly. Coordinating feet, hips, and arms, all to the rhythm of the music was impossibly complicated for me.

Fast forward 9 years. Social dancing is a part of life here. And last night, the day I never dreamed would happen arrived.

I was at my friend Alex's house, making brownies in his kitchen, chatting with Adrian, a newly made friend from Mexico. "Do you dance salsa?" I asked. "no" he answered. "merengue?" I asked hopefully, wishing for a more positive response. Merengue is, after all, less complicated. He didn't dance merengue either. "Oh, you disappointed me." I told him, "I was just telling Edwin the other day how much I want to dance but we always have more girls than guys and I was hoping you could help us out".

The topic changed, I popped the brownies in the oven, and the song "Mi niña bonita" came on. Edwin pulled me over to the empty half of the kitchen to dance. "Julian, Camilo, Adrian!" I called out to the guys in the room, "ask the girls to dance!" Pretty soon, we had a kitchen full of dancing couples. As the song changed and we all changed partners, I found myself with Adrian. We danced merengue, then salsa. "Here's what you do" I said, demonstrating some basic steps. After we were more or less comfortable with them, I thought we should attempt a spin. I am decent at following when my partner knows what they're doing, but without a lead, I'm usually pretty lost. Much to my surprise and delight, I walked Adrian through the entire spin. "Let's try it again, faster this time!"

I think it's still obvious I don't have latin blood when I dance. I still lose the rhythm more than I'd like to admit. I'm not always sure if I'm dancing salsa, merengue, vallenato, or something else all together. But, I have now given a dancing lesson to a latino. And I'm just a little bit impressed with myself. :)

(not from last night, but if you want to see me show off my *amazing* dance skills, I'm towards the end of this 15 second clip)

San Gil, a photo-journal: Wednesday April 4

Wed. 4am

It's dark and cold when my alarm goes off, so early I'm disoriented. I drag myself out of bed, getting ready quickly, and by 4:30 all of us are waiting by the door, suitcases in hand, ready for the taxi to beep.

The city is quiet at this hour and there's barely any traffic. We get to the transport terminal quickly, it's not quite 5am. I buy 5 tickets to San Gil, leaving at 6am. The bus ride should take 6 hours.

6 am- waiting for our bus to leave and already burnt from Monday at the park.

Wed. 10:30 am

Our first sign that this trip might take a bit over 6 hours is when we end up in completely stopped traffic. Everyone is out of their cars milling around. We get off the bus to stretch and see what's going on. As far as we can see down the mountain, cars are stopped. There's road work below and they have one lane of the 2 lane road closed. Eventually, they stop traffic coming up the mountain and we race to get back on the bus as the traffic ahead of us starts moving. As Jen steps on the bus, we're already in motion before she even makes it back to her seat.

The stopped traffic went around the curve and down the hill

Wed. 12:00 pm

I'm drifting off to sleep when I hear a sudden startling bang. For a moment I'm startled thinking a shot was fired outside my house. Then I realize I'm on a bus and I look out the window in time to see something flying off across the road. We stop, pull over and pick up whatever the missing piece is. The driver and several helpful, or maybe just curious, passengers try to put it back together. Whatever they've done doesn't seem to be too successful since when we pull onto the road again there is a dangerous rattling sound and we're only traveling around 20 kilometers an hour. At this point we'll never get there, I think.

Our driver with the missing part

Wed. 1:00 pm

We rattle along for a few minutes until we pull to a stop again at the entrance to a little town, "Socorro", it's optimistically called, a word meaning help, aid, relief. We're stopped outside a mechanics, and pretty soon they're tinkering with the broken part and the wheels again. The bus becomes sweltering and we get off. We chat with the little girl who's sitting next to Rae Ann, "this is the best day of my life!" she tells me. "why?" I ask, thinking how I definitely wouldn't count it as the best day of my life. "I made American friends!" she answers, enthusiastically. I smile at her enthusiasm, glad that at least someone is enjoying the inconvenience.

The cathedral of Socorro in the distance

The bus driver wanders off, the mechanic disappears under the bus, and then reappears muttering something that doesn't sound hopeful. We're getting hotter by the minute, still in jeans and sneakers for the Bogotá cole, but it's HOT here. We walk across the street to a snack shop with the name written in English, "The Beer Store". We order cold sodas and sit on the pavement, wondering if we'll even make it to San Gil tonight.

Still waiting in Socorro

Wed. 2:30 pm

Finally, Ingrid has the brilliant idea to ask someone how far to San Gil. Turns out it's just a 1/2 hour away by bus. We flag down a taxi and, for $2.50, convince him to load the 5 of us and our suitcases in to take us to the bus terminal downtown. Once we're there we find a bus to San Gil and 5 minutes and $1.50 each later, we're headed off just as it begins to rain.

Wed. 4:00

After nearly 12 hours of traveling, and a bit of wandering through some (thankfully warm) drizzle, we finally arrive at our hostel. First order of business- changing into shorts and flip flops. We flop down on the beds, exhausted for a bit, as we plan our next move.

Wed. 6:00 pm

We head off downtown, looking for the plaza. It isn't difficult to find. I get a call on the way there from a tour guide they recommended at our hotel. She meets us in front of the cathedral to tell us our options. "How about rafting tomorrow at 9?" she asks, "they'll pick you up outside the hotel." It sounds good to us, so with plans to talk tomorrow about other adventures, we wander a bit more, looking for a good place to eat. We finally find what seems to be the most popular spot for female police officers in San Gil as there's a whole table of them when we sit down. The restaurant has seating in a courtyard with hammocks hung around the edges. We relax, enjoying the warmth after too many days in cold, rainy Bogotá. We can hear fireworks in the distance. Eventually our food comes and once we're done eating, we go back to the hotel, tired from a long day of travel. Exploring can wait until tomorrow.

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