Everyone Has a Cell Phone, but No One Has Minutes

Everyone Has a Cell Phone, but No One Has Minutes

A funny little thing about Colombia is that everyone seems to have a cell phone, some people even have Blackberries, but no one ever seems to have minutes. Now that I’ve lived in Colombia for over 6 months, I have suddenly become one of these people.

llamadas and recargas available here from Tigo, Comcel and Movistar

You can make a call from one of the llamada people on almost every street corner in Barranquilla. They have signs that say llamadas 100, which means you give them the number and it’s 100 pesos a minute to call from their phone. Finding a recarga to recharge your own phone when you’re out of minutes can be a bit more vexing. Recargas are available in many places, but they certainly aren’t as omnipresent as llamadas. Oh, of course you can get a recarga from the magical cashiers at SAO, but what if you’re out and about? Then what do you do?

When I have run out of minutes I found that it’s possible to buy a card to recharge your phone at many little street-side convenient type stores. With the recarga card, you dial the number into your phone then somehow your phone gets recharged with new minutes.

"¿Tiene recargas?"

If it’s so easy, why do people never have minutes? For one, minutes can expire, so people don’t put a lot of money on their phones. Another thing is it seems no one has a monthly plan so everything on your cell phone is prepaid. This is kind of good if you are a person who regularly goes over his/her allotted minutes, but also bad because you can instantly get cut off in the middle of a phone conversation. Then there are the little fees that sometimes get taken out of your saldo or balance. For example I have something called numeros vacanos or the 'cool numbers' of people I call often. Money periodically gets taken out of my saldo for my calls to vacanos to be cheaper. Then the final and most likely possibility is that people just don’t have much money, so they only put little amounts on their phone when they can.

The nice thing is there is no charge for incoming calls unlike the United States cell phones. You also don’t get charged for a call unless there is an answer. Because of this people will call and call and almost no one ever leaves a message. I receive almost no voicemails, but I do have muchas llamadas perdidas.

In the true Colombian fashion I need to recharge my phone right now because I’m out of minutes. Call me. I can’t call you.

With all this talk of cell phones, it wouldn’t be right to end without the song of Carnavales de Barranquilla 2010

Aló!
Dónde estás?
Que pasó?
Me apagaste el celular,
sólo te llamo

La Hora de la Vanidad

La Hora de la Vanidad

If you are thinking of getting cosmetic surgery, Colombia is definitely a good place to visit. I have seen more fake breasts here than I’ve seen anywhere in my life. Often they are accompanied by fake rear ends also. The thing is the women here are generally absolutely gorgeous. I’m sure they all looked beautiful before the surgery. I’ve never been big on the beauty salon or even make up, but I decided it was time for a little vanity.

I had heard that it was really cheap to get haircuts, manicures, and pedicures here. Surrounded by all these beauties with their thick, straight, dark hair, my blonde, thin, wavy hair often sticks out like a sore thumb. I’m a little nervous about getting my hair cut here because I think they wouldn’t quite know what to do with it, but manicures and pedicures sometimes just feel good. I had asked the day before and they said it would be 10.000 for manicure 12.000 for a pedicure. This adds up to $11 dollars total. I thought that sounded reasonable.

The next day Karen and I entered the beauty salon in our centro comercial (read: mall) to the sound of hairdryers blowing while trying to hear and understand a woman speaking in Spanish wearing a surgical mask. There was lots of giggling and I couldn’t help but feel we might be the butt of a joke.

They started with the pedicure. It wasn’t the best one I’d ever had, but it was OK. I decided on a French manicure, and it was definitely better than pedicure. When we got the bill it was 20.000 pesos each (or $10 each) and no, you don’t need to tip on this service in Colombia. We left with prettier, more feminine feet and hands. I was pleased with the price and told some Colombian friends, who told us that was expensive and it should be more like $8.00 total.

It might just be worth going back. Should I dare have them cut my hair?

Always Talk to Strangers

Always Talk to Strangers

Now I am back in Barranquilla after a few weeks rest in Panama. While I was gone I seriously considered quitting my job. When my flight landed in Barranquilla at midnight, I was welcomed back by an ad for breast enhancement and a cab driver telling me the other cab driver was going to rob me. In the cab, we drove through some of the dire and scary parts of the city. I felt a certain abhorrence for Barranquilla and its urban shortcomings, and thought that I really ought to leave. I was, however, quite pleased to return to my beautiful, immense, and clean apartment again after several weeks of staying in hotels.

Back at school I talked to my principal, who I really appreciate, about quitting. I told her that I was thinking about volunteering somewhere for the rest of the school year, but that I didn’t have anything set up yet. She and I looked at the calendar together. To start, Carnavales happen in mid-February. Barranquilla is supposedly, after Rio, the best place for Carnaval in South America. I have been looking forward to it as the cultural event of the year. There are so many other fun and interesting events pending, that it seemed a shame if I’d miss them. Even though perhaps this school isn't the best fit for me, the bottom line is that I’m a responsible person. I don’t think I’d feel right about quitting in middle of the school year. It would cause a lot of headaches for everyone, and in the end my students would be the ones who would suffer. It just didn’t seem right.

Since I’m staying, I’ve chosen to try to focus on the positive and have more fun.

First of all, let’s remember the climate: it is hot and sunny here almost everyday. Then there are las frutas – maracuya, lulo, corozo, mmm. I don’t think I’d be able to enjoy these as readily in other places. Next, I need to get out and enjoy more of what Barranquilla has to offer and meet some people. I realized upon returning that the people who know me here consist mainly of my colleagues, the people who work in my apartment building, grocery store, and gym. It is about time for some new faces.

My first weekend back Kären, Dave, and I decided to go to a jazz bar that I’d read about in my guidebook called La Cueva. Gabriel García Márquez and his literary Grupo de Barranquilla used to spend some time there. It was pretty empty when we went and seemed more like a place to get dinner than go out for music, so we headed over to Yema Jazz. This is a place we went with a Colombian friend our first month in Barranquilla. It’s very hard to find because there is no sign outside, and it’s like walking into someone’s apartment building. It’s the secret jazz club. After walking downstairs, it is a cool jazz bar that usually has live music, but not the night we went.

In my solo travels I usually talk to anyone and everyone. I decided that upon returning to Barranquilla I should try to talk to and meet people the way I do when I travel. Explaining this idea to Dave and Kären, they reluctantly agreed to go over and meet a table of Colombians, but only after I came up with the idea of our lead in conversation question: "Can you tell me something about Carnavales?"

It was a table of six men and women, and one man named Juan Carlos was thrilled to tell us everything we wanted to know about Carnavales. We ended up joining their table for a drink there, and then moving on to another much louder dance bar. Despite ringing ears and partially losing my voice trying to talk with people, I thoroughly enjoyed staying out dancing until 3:00 am. It was time to leave when the salsa, meregue, and reggatón turned into even louder techno.

As per my typical self, even if I stay out late, I have a tendency to wake up with the light. I knew I needed to get some work for school also. Exiting the elevator at around 9:15 Sunday morning, I was accosted by salsa music blaring away. A dance class was taking place in the court outside my apartment. I thought I might join after returning from the store. At the grocery store a man I always see, who reminds me of a Colomian Pee Wee Herman, noticed I’d been gone a while and had questions for me. It’s nice to be recognized with a smile. Returning home the salsa class had just ended, but I met some women, including a lively 61 year-old woman, who live in my building. I enjoy knowing and being able to say hello to my neighbors. It’s also not so bad to grade papers in a bikini by the pool in the middle of January with a temperature of 91 degrees Fahrenheit.

Later that evening, Kären and were called by Jose David and Juan Carlos, two of the men we’d danced with the night before. They wanted to take us out for ice-cream. We ended up going on a double date with them to an American style diner and got chocolate malts. I felt like I was on the Barranquilla version of ‘Happy Days’. It felt like1960, not 2010. This innocence was rather refreshing.

Do I love Barranquilla? Well, no. Did I realize that I needed to change some of the way I perceive it and the ways I live here to make it better? Yes, I did. For 2010 in Colombia the motto is: Always Talk to Strangers.

Panama Final Chapter – Monkeys!!

Panama Final Chapter – Monkeys!!

Ben, who I'd met in Santa Catalina, and I took the 7 am bus for the long journey from there to Playa Venao. I had been told about it from a Panamanian woman in Boquete who said that there was good surfing there. I looked it up and found a place that sounded very cool called Eco Venao, and eco-lodge in the jungle.

Ben and I laughed at the multiple bus journey there. In one town called Chitré, we were welcomed in to town by a bunch of larger than life sized cartoon statues of Jesus floating between what looked like giant eggshells, an M&M, Nemo, Barney, some huge bird, and an enormous Christmas present. It was an odd cast of characters to say the least.

We finally arrived at our very cool, but basic eco lodge. After a shower under our coconut shower head and we went to see the beach. The waves looked good, as did the surfers. The thing was that this area of Panama has recently had a boom in development so everything had gone up in price. We stopped for a beer and dinner at a bar restaurant on the beach that had been open for all of three weeks. There was another new and expensive hotel that had just been open for a month. Rooms started at $90 a night. Playa Venao had suddenly gotten pretty darn swank. Thankfully Eco Venao was a more affordable option, although they too had raised their prices.

Our lodge at Eco Venao

The next morning we went to the beach to rent boards. The selection was limited and the price was higher than Santa Catalina. I ended up with the only board that was available – a 10-foot soft top. It was ridiculously huge and unmanageable for me. It was a really windy morning and I was struggling with board before I even got in the water. The waves here were more powerful than the waves at Playa Estero in Santa Catalina and on the very first wave I tweeked my back a bit, partially due to how large the board was. I tried a few waves more and decided this was ridiculous. I went back in and an 8-foot soft top had just been returned. I paddled out again with the smaller board and it was better, but I wasn’t feeling it. I caught a few waves but after about an hour and a half I was done, my back hurt and I wasn’t enjoying the surfing as much as I usually always do. I was worried that I’d hurt myself more if I stuck with it. I think it is wise to trust instincts on such matters.

After we were done we returned to our eco lodge to pack up for Pedasí. We had heard some rustling in the trees above our bamboo hut, and the unmistakable call of the howler monkey. We went outside and right above our hut were over 20 monkeys! It was incredible! There was even a Carablanca.

Carablanca

There were too many monkeys to get in one picture

We unsuccessfully tried to hitch a ride to Pedasí and ended up taking a cab in the end. Pedasí was a cute little town with tile roofs and charm. Apparently a lot of other folks saw its potential as well, because there is a lot of foreign development in the area. The place we ended up staying, was fantastic, but like Playa Venao the prices had gone up there as well.

Oh so cute with the baby

Monos Congos

Ben leaving Eco Venao

We were pretty tired after a day of surfing, the hot sun, and salt water and for the evening we needed to just relax and watch TV. Fortunately the Simpson’s was on. The Simpson’s plays on TV constantly in Colombia, but it’s always dubbed in Spanish. For some reason, in Pedasí, Panama it was in English. Ben and I both laughed really hard at Marge Simpson saying, “What the Hellmann’s Real Mayonnaise?” As much as I find it odd to write about TV on my blog, I think that quote is one worth noting.

The next morning we took a little stroll around Pedasí before our long journey to Panama City.

Downtown Pedasí

The tiles that everyone finds so charming

Pedasí

Our last bus transfer that would be the 4-hour ride to Panama City had us on the most luxurious bus I may have ever been on. At first felt like I was in Korea, not in Panama. Then they had a large screen playing music videos. At first to match with the pastoral setting it was the traditional Panamanian music, which features the accordion and sounds strikingly similar to Vallenato in Colombia. As we got closer to Panama City it became reggatón. Ben gave a very accurate run down of the formula of these music videos: a guy is wearing sunglasses, he’s upset because his woman left him, he wants to get her back because he's done her wrong, there are some other guys in sunglasses to back him up, there are scantily clad women, in the end the woman is with the man. Finito.

The bus in Korea, I mean Panama.

We passed over the Panama Canal entering the city and realized when we got to the bus station that this is a huge and somewhat dangerous city and we had no clue where we were going. I remembered something about Casco Viejo as being the historic part of the city and figured we’d get dinner there before my flight back to Colombia. Getting to Casco Viejo we rode through some pretty sketchy looking neighborhoods and I was glad to be in a cab. Casco Viejo itself seemed like a run down small version of Cartagena.

The day we were there was the 46th anniversary of the Flag Riots of 1964. Apparently the Flag Riots started with some disagreement between high school and university students arguing about flying the US and Panamanian flags. A riot broke out and 12 people were killed and millions of dollars worth of property were destroyed. There were not many people out in Casco Viejo despite being a Saturday and I don’t know if a – it’s always like that, b – people were mourning the loses, or c – that no alcohol was available for purchase in either restaurant or store. My guess is option c.

Casco Viejo

I left in my cab and headed to the airport, bidding adieu to Ben who was on his way back to Nicaragua and the Spain. I met some foreigners headed to Colombia and they were on my plane. The first stop of the plane was in Cartagena – that is where all the foreigners departed. I was with a handful of Colombians on the short plane ride back to Barranquilla.

Panama was really a relaxing vacation. I felt like I saw a lot of the country, but my regret is that I didn’t really spend time with any Panamanians, but rather a lot of tourists. I didn’t speak that much Spanish while I was there either. Heading back to Colombia would change both of those in a hurry.

Now, back to our previously scheduled “La Vida Colombiana”

Panama part 3 – Surfing Meditation in Santa Catalina

Panama part 3 – Surfing Meditation in Santa Catalina

A big part of the reason I wanted to go to Panama was to surf. The supposedly best place to surf in Panama is Santa Catalina, and although it was far away, and kind of hard to get to, I just had a feeling it’d be worth it. I was not wrong.

It took several modes of transportation and about 8 hours to get there. When I finally arrived, it felt more like I was on a farm than at a beach. It did not have the feeling of a surf town, but rather a farm that seemed miles away from the ocean, although it was actually right on the ocean. I had read that the hotels and hostels were off a dirt road. Somehow I pictured them being close together overlooking the Pacific, but they weren’t.

The first place I stayed was a 20-minute walk down a hot and dusty dirt road to get to the surf beach. Although I enjoyed my room and the company of the people I met there (especially when we were playing with people in hammocks much like one would with the 5 silver balls on string that only move the end two balls – the people in hammock/silver ball theory), it was very far to get from my hostel to anywhere. The first night I walked back from dinner in the dark with a dim flashlight, alone, down one dirt road to another dirt road and I slipped and squished around into a few thick mud puddles on the way. Mud got into an open blister on my foot and I arrived at the hostel to find there was no water. I moved the next day to a place overlooking the Pacific. My room here was a basic bamboo hut, with no lock and my key was a piece of wire to wrap around the hasp to keep the door shut. No need for high security, everything remained completely safe.

My bamboo hut room overlooking Playa Estero

Look at the view!

From Rancho Estero my view of Playa Estero at low tide

The beach for me to surf on was not the challenging rock bottom of Santa Catalina itself, but rather the much more forgiving sand bottom beach of Playa Estero. Estero had only one place to stay on the beach itself with a restaurant and, thankfully, a place to rent surf boards aptly called the Oasis.

The Oasis is behind those palm trees. This is the view looking back at low tide.

Much of life here depended upon la marea – the tides (reminiscent to Playa Sámara in Costa Rica for me in this way and this way alone). During my stay was a full moon and the fluctuation of the tides on the beach was probably more than 100 meters each way, making the beach very wide with tiny waves, or very narrow with slightly larger waves. There was a stream at the beginning of the beach that changed rather dramatically in width and depth. During low tide it was about a foot across and a few inches deep. During high tide it was about 50 feet wide, the center of the crossing was over my head, and it had a current. This made getting to or from the beach an undertaking during high tides. For this reason I do not have many pictures, for fear of my camera getting wet. I am also lacking pictures of high tide, because that's when I was surfing.

Low tide view from the hammock

During low tide, it was time for hanging out and talking, braving the long, hot walk to town for a meal, playing Frisbee, walking, reading on the beach, or swimming. During high tide, it was time to surf. There is not a lot to do in Santa Catalina besides the aforementioned activities, nor are there a lot of people. It is rustic, basic, and definitely not for everyone, but I absolutely loved it there. I ended up staying longer than I planned and I am quite glad for that.

The first day I was there I met a woman named Kristina from Canada. She was vacationing there with her husband George and 2 year-old daughter named Lucia. The adults were both surfers, had been there before, and had been working on a boat on which they wanted to move and live in Panama. My second day there I rented the only long-ish board available. It was 7’6” and called a “fun board”. The fun board length was a bit shorter board than I was used to. At first I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to do it, but I got used to the length quickly and it was…well…fun! Kristina and two women from San Francisco and I surfed together. There were a bunch of Panamanian surfers as well, as it was Sunday just post the New Year. Everyone seemed friendly, encouraging, and relaxed on Playa Estero. I heard that it was a bit more competitive on Playa Santa Catalina. We surfed until the sunset.

That evening I stayed down on the beach and had an Italian dinner (the Oasis is owned and run by an Italian family) with Kristina, George, and Lucia. After dinner it was dark and I had to ask someone with a flashlight to help me find my way across the stream and back up the hill to my hostel. From that day forward I always carried my flashlight to the beach no matter what the hour.

The tide unfortunately stayed out later and later each day, but at the same time the waves were increasing in size. It was time to relax, read, and reflect. The vacationing Panamanians returned to work and suddenly the beach was remarkably devoid of people.

One of the few people on Playa Estero

One night after dinner and wine with Kristina and George a group of Argentinians were having a bonfire on the beach. I joined them in the for una cerveza, and some star gazing. It was definitely feeling more and more like a tropical vacation in paradise.

George had told me that because they were taking care of a 2 year-old that Kristina and he would not be able to surf together. He said I could borrow one of their boards if I wanted. I offered to watch Lucia if they wanted to surf together. It was late in the afternoon and George had returned from surfing at Santa Catalina and I took him up on the offer of his board. I used his board, which was 6’8”. At first it felt kind of wobbly and small, but then I ended up loving it. It was my favorite day of surfing in Panama. Ben, a guy from my hostel and I were surfing and laughing together. The waves were not large and were fairly easy to catch. There was a lull between the waves and it was meditative to do nothing but be exactly where I was, taking in the view, the ocean scent, my burning eyes, and beautiful sunset. Again, we surfed until the sun went down and then made the difficult river crossing back up to the hostel. I learned to shower, change back into my bathing suit for the river crossing, but bring some dry clothes in a bag down with me.

The last day there Ben and I surfed together again. I rented a board that was also 6’8” and decided that 6'8" was mi tabla preferida – surfboard of choice. There was a rather pompous Canadian guy that lived there, who kept giving me unsolicited surfing advice that made me miss the gentle instruction of Yoyi. I realized while in Panama that Yoyi had taught me a lot about surfing that I used every time I was in the waves.

After dinner and a short walk on the beach at night to see the stars and say goodbye, early the next morning Ben and I were off to Playa Venao. Adios Santa Catalina. Me gustaria regresar con amigos para surfiar otra vez.

Panama Part 2 – Mmm Coffee, Ahhh Hot Springs of Boquete

Panama Part 2 – Mmm Coffee, Ahhh Hot Springs of Boquete

After having sand fly bites, a sunburned nose, and tired eyes from the brightness of the sun in the sea, it was time to head up to the cooler cloudier climate of Boquete. To get there I first rode in a water taxi, to a water bus, to a taxi, to a buseta, to a school bus and finally made it to Boquete about 6 hours later. The buses snaked up through the mountains while I was sandwiched between the window and the traditionally dressed Kuna Yala baby and a mom who was probably 20 years old at most. It was odd to see them pay with dollars.

Boquete is a beautiful little town that is mountainous, cloudy, misty, and much cooler than where I’d been - picture gardens in the mountains. It was kind of refreshing, but I also kind of needed warmer clothes. I met a woman from San Francisco, who was retired there and she loved the climate. People from the United States seem to be retiring to Boquete in large numbers.

By the time I checked into Villa Verde, there wasn’t a ton of daylight left. I had an incredible view from my room.

The view from my room at Villa Verde

I walked up to Mi Jardín es tu Jardín. Apparently there are rainbows almost every day. Today was no exception.

Las floras a Mi Jardín es Tu Jardín

La estrella a Mi Jardín es Tu Jardín

Los peces a Mi Jardín es Tu Jardín

Los arcos de iris cada día

I was travel weary and had no energy to do anything besides watch TV. I found it odd to watch the NBA, Will and Grace and Seinfeld in Panama. There was a bathtub, and hot water, so I took my first bath in about 5 months. How relaxing! That, plus the cool mountain air helped me sleep soundly.

The next morning I was off to Café Ruiz for a cup of joe with Rahul’s Panama guidebook in hand. With my reading, and help from the woman who ran Villa Verde, I made some plans for Boquete.

In the morning I visited Paradise Gardens. It was an incredibly peaceful place with flowers and some rescued animals as well.

Colibri

Angel's trumpets

My afternoon was spent at a coffee tour at Finca Milagrosa. I was the only one in the car with señor Vargas for the tour. He was a bit worried of my opinion about his jalopy. I told him that my old car was a 1988, his was a 1987, so we understood each other. after all the mountain roads getting there, in the end I had get out of the car so it could get up the steep driveway leading to the farm.

unroasted drying coffee

Coffee berries

Drying coffee

I was led around the small-operation coffee farm and had all my questions answered. Señor Vargas had built everything on the farm for the coffee production. The machinery reminded me of something from a Dr. Seuss book.

harvested coffee berries

the incredible contraption for coffee separation created by señor Vargas

Coffee berries being washed and skinned

The skins go one way...

...the washed beans go the other way

This reminded me a bit of what I've seen in wineries. How in the world did we humans come up with such complex processes of plants to get a drink? Really, who thought, "Let's pick these berries, skin them, roast them, grind them up and pour hot water over them, strain it off and then drink only the liquid"? We are odd creatures fo sure.

dried coffee ready to roast

dark, medium, and light roasts. Notice the tool of screwdriver welded to spoon

Señor Vargas y Finca la Milagrosa

While at this miraculous coffee farm, I met some French Canadians. The were headed to the hot springs where I wanted to go as well, so I joined them. Off we went through the mountains and the turn off the road had these petroglyphs.

petroglyphs

more beautiful Panamanian farm land with the added bonus of horses and rainbows

We arrived at the hot springs just after sunset. There were 3 natural tubs that each got hotter. It was New Year's Eve so I thought I'd wash away the old year and welcome the new with a ritual bath.

Los Pozos de caldera

Arriving back in Boquete I had Peruvian food that wasn't good before meeting a cute young couple at the bar next door. They went home to be with family, and so at 11:40 I was home listening to the loud traditional Panamanian music from the party across the street. I did some reflection and made some resolutions while listening to, and occasionally watching, the fireworks that went on until about 2:30.

New Year's Day I was unable to go horseback riding as I'd hoped, so I pretty much just walked around town. People kept telling me my Spanish was good. It felt good. Sometimes in Colombia people think my Spanish is really good, and other times it’s like I’m speaking Chinese. Part of the New Year’s resolution is speaking my truth and being clear in my speech. I hope the other resolutions become perceptible throughout the rest of the year. I went to the Catholic Church mass and prayed.
On my walk around lovely Boquete in the mountains and across the rivers I saw this...

...which I thought seemed like a good sign for the first day of the year.

Seeing this was also rather inspirational

That night it was time to pack up and get to bed early for the 6 am bus of the next day. I stopped to get some water at the store and found it funny to find Leffe Belgian beer there. I had to get one for the novelty of it. Boquete was tranquil and serene. I was glad to spend a few days there, but I was ready to get back in the sun.

Adios Boquete! On to Santa Catalina to surf!