Land of Shakira and Gabriel García Márquez, here I come!” Barely three weeks before the day I was meant to cross the Pacific to Colombia, I could think of only these two famous Colombians off the top of my head, unlike my friends who were devout followers of international beauty pageants. But as it happens, I’m a huge fan of both: I read three books by GGM back in university, and recited Shakira’s Waka Waka in my head ad nauseam during my trip to Africa earlier this year. Needless to say, I was thrilled; but what was to be my biggest trip ever also offered itself to me in the shortest notice. Between receiving the confirmation e-mail that I was going to do an anti-corruption panel at the 2nd World Summit for Youth Volunteering and, before boarding my flight, I had to raise funds, acquire a US visa and figure out my itinerary. Thankfully, as a Global Changemaker for the British Council, I had access to grants for attendance to high-level events, and was fortunate to be awarded such.
When writing travel articles, I like to recommend the places I’ve been, because they’re relatively cheap and accessible destinations, and offering advice while I’m at it. I don’t exactly feel the same about Colombia, because it’s not exactly cheap and accessible from the Philippines. From Manila, for instance, I took a total of five flights to get to Bogotá, the capital, with transits in Beijing, Chicago, Boston and Miami. This will not be the case with everyone, especially perhaps for those not traveling with American Airlines travel vouchers, but I’m confident that anyone who’s been to South America from the Philippines will agree that it is quite a journey (so you have to agree that it’s about the journey more than the destination). Luckily for us Filipinos, we don’t need a visa to visit Colombia, so that’s one less item to worry about.
As soon as my flight landed in Bogotá, I felt that I was on a higher plane, literally: I was greeted by weather that made the clouds look and feel like they were within reach, the city being 8,600 feet above sea level, so those who easily experience altitude sickness should take precautions. Its El Dorado Airport was under reconstruction, so it had an excuse for not giving the best first impression. What quickly made up for it were the organized taxi system outside the airport and the travel desk inside, which recommended a backpacker’s place called Hotel Platypus for me to stay. Yes, I was journeying to a foreign continent for the first time, and I didn’t know where to stay; it was like Kathmandu all over again: both with my nomadic, last-minute, play-it-by-ear tendencies and the general fun that was had.
As you leave the airport, mountain ranges that are, I was told, part of the Andes, welcome you to Bogotá proper. From the highway, narrow ascending streets lined with colorful structures lead to Platypus, which was in the city’s historical center, La Candelaria. It’s a small backpackers’ hostel with clean, no-frills, cozy rooms and friendly staff. At 20,000 Colombian pesos (US$10) per night, I highly recommend it to everyone traveling on a budget. One of its cool “features” is a cute courtyard in the middle as you enter, where you get to hang out with the other guests as it is the only spot reached by the free Wi-Fi. This would have been a downside for the place, but I did not mind as it was there that we met fellow traveler Josh, whom my roommate Sean and I explored the city with for the whole day. We walked up to nearby Monserrate (via cable car, a must-do for its panoramic view of the city), and through the town, occasionally stopping for different kinds of Colombian beer and street food, among them the best chicharon your mouth will ever encounter. We walked through districts that often felt like home and divisoria, and on the other hand there were those unlike anything I’ve ever seen, at the same time satisfying my idea of quintessential South America. On our way back we were about to enter a dark street, which I was later told was the most dangerous place in all of Bogotá, but quickly retreated.
The night before, my friend and fellow Global Changemaker, Olga, took me to a concert where her boyfriend was participating. This was when I was still haggard after my three-day, five-transit trip, but even in that state, there was no denying that I was in a place with the most number of gorgeous people per square meter I had ever seen in my life.
I fell in love with Bogotá, but after barely 48 hours in the city, I had to board another plane, this time to my final destination and the summit venue: Shakira’s hometown, Barranquilla. With my kiwi friends Sam and Jason, we landed two days before the conference, so we had time to sleep in, chill, and meet with friends who were also there for the same event. We spent our extra full day running errands, checking in to our suite at Hotel Dorado, struggling with our Spanish in various comidas rapidas (fast food places), and taking it really easy.
For the next three days, we were at Universidad del Norte, listening to plenary sessions, giving out presentations in our breakout panels, meeting important people, networking with amazing volunteers from all over the world, and occasionally dancing with professional Colombian dancers until our hips hurt. Outside the university gymnasium, Barranquilla felt like home, mostly because of the humidity that was the opposite of Bogotá’s chill, cardigan-weather. It was a charming city nonetheless, although between me and my friends, we were aching to get to the nearby cities of Cartagena and Santa Marta. We even forgot about the famous Shakira monument.
The day after the summit ended, my German friend Felix and I hopped on a bus to Cartagena, located by the country’s Caribbean coast. The two-hour trip from Barranquilla offered a glimpse of Colombian countryside, which reminded me of my African safari experience, and ended in a non-touristy bus terminal. From the terminal, we took the taxi to a backpacker place called Media Luna at the heart of Cartagena. Inside the taxi, we emerged from the dull side of the city into a spectacular place unlike both Bogotá and Barranquilla. While Bogotá had historical structures pumped and bursting with colors, Cartagena had forts and the Caribbean coast. Not to mention a million-dollar sunset. I felt that I was undermining my initial experience of the city by being inside the taxi, and I had to fight the urge to leap outside and just walk to the hostel.
Media Luna, best described by its whitewashed walls and mostly Australian guests, was another backpacker place I’d recommend to everyone. It’s not quite like Platypus in Bogotá, but the clear advantages of the place are its open spaces and a small pool perfect for hanging out. When you leave its doors, you are ushered into history via the rainbow of short buildings highlighted by tall, towering doors that were the opposite of those in Kathmandu.
Around two blocks from the hostel is hole-in-the-wall Donde Berce Restaurant, offering very affordable meals, among them my favorite arroz mixto (mixed rice). Meanwhile, in a block opposite the restaurant is a small church square surrounded by some of the best street food, and an old lady selling freshly-squeezed orange juice for US$1.50, which is everywhere in Colombia and among my fondest memories of the country. For fellow fans of Gabriel García Márquez, I don’t need to belabor the appeal of Colombia and Cartagena, which is the setting of one of his most popular novels, Love in the Time of Cholera. I’ve never read a more compelling love story.
Cartagena is the perfect tourist destination without being a tourist trap; it has the weather of Barranquilla and some of the colors of Bogotá, plus some extra flavor all its own. As you walk farther from the historical district, the Caribbean invites you to lie on the sand and take a dip, and I dare you to resist it. This is exactly what we did on our first morning in the city, right before sunrise. I had planned on doing the same on my last day, but I was invited and sponsored by fellow Global Changemaker, Sam, to come with them to the volcanic mud bath. It was the only better alternative to my plan, and how could have I refused? How often do you get to bathe in the “crater” of a mud volcano, which is the biggest of its kind? Being denser than the Dead Sea, you float on top of a volcano of mud that’s 2,000 meters deep, a fact that made the experience only more exciting. We came at the right time, in the afternoon, when there weren’t a lot of tourists and we could take our time playing like kids in the mud. After about an hour, we rinsed in the lake that surrounded the volcano. We sipped complimentary Colombian coffee (the best in the world) before heading back at dusk; and as we arrived in our hostel, we collected our bags, Jason and Sam left for Santa Marta while I killed time to go to Cartagena Airport for my flight back to Bogotá. I was sad to leave Cartagena, but its airport made me smile in awe: it was like an outdoor garden that had a runway, not the other way around.
In Bogotá, I stayed with another friend and Global Changemaker, Laura, who took me around her university, Universidad de los Andes, where we presented to a Social Responsibility class. Our presentation was a big success; to celebrate and to make up for the very brief time I spent in Bogotá when I first arrived, we went around the T Zone and the more upscale districts that on the surface looked like they could have been anywhere in North America, but when you scratch below the surface, you discover the strong South American character it aggressively maintains. On 11/11/11, I left Bogotá for Miami.
* * *
Big thanks to the British Council Global Changemakers for making the trip, possible. For more information, please visit www.global-changemakers.net.