First part of the Easter Holiday

Last week, being Easter and all, saw millions of Colombians swarm to church (that is the catholic church of course) in order to beg forgiveness for their otherwise sordid lives. Well it kinda seemed like that with everyone being the picture of innocence and lily white virginity, at least until the church service was over and the drinking could commence once more.

I was lucky enough to head into the nearby countryside with some mates who had rented a cottage close to a small town called San Jeronimo. The weather was bloody good out there and we spent a couple of days soaking up the rays next to the pool and laughing more than I can remember doing for years. It is possible that this was because of the alcohol being consumed at all hours.

This is Tamarind country with every kind of sweet thing you could imagine!

This little town is very close to Santa Fe which is where I was a couple of weeks ago with some other mates (my adopted mommies in Medellin). Both towns are built in the old Spanish style with the church and plaza in the centre of town. You really have to remind yourself that you're not somewhere in the south of Spain because the similarities to those towns are striking.
Santa Fe is undoubtedly the more popular of the two and this is where loads of Paisas (the word used for people from Antioquia) from Medellin head for the Holy Week. When I first travelled there with Paula, Juan Pablo, Clara and Cata, we spent a relaxing afternoon watching the sun slowly sinking behind the mountains that encircle this little colonial town. I destroyed another Bandeja de Paisa which is a traditional meal from these parts made up of Frijoles (beans cooked slowly for almost a full day), chicharron (kind of like crackling but thicker and with more fat), carne de rez (beef steak) with a huevo (egg) on top, chorizo, arroz (rice), patacones (flattened plantain), ensalada and an arepa (maize flat bread) on the side. Not for the faint hearted I can tell you. This is almost always consumed with a selection of juices made of Lulo, Papaya, Mango, Tamarind and at least ten other fruits that I still don’t know. I loved it but walking was tough afterwards.

This is Bandeja de Paisa. Yummy!

This link is a good one to check for an idea of the kind of food and drink you get here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cuisine_of_Colombia

There is loads of info on the fruits, soups, meats and booze (I.e. Aguardiente, Ron, etc.)

Chilling out after lunch in the plaza of Santa Fe

As the sun dipped further behind the mountains we stopped at the nearby and famous wooden bridge called Puente Occidente (Western Bridge). It is quite an impressive structure which still takes traffic and spans the massive Rio Cauca. Colombianos are quite proud of this engineering feat and why not!? Its kinda strange standing in the middle of it and feeling it sway and shake with the wind and cars. Like all the rivers here Rio Cauca is large and mighty impressive. Africa has some biggies but they really do not touch this continent for sheer size and power.

The Medellin Mommies, River Cauca, Antioquian countryside and some views of Puente Occidente

This time around my trip was with Ruben and the two Natalias who I had literally met two days before. Ruben is another one of the geologist crew (and a sick salsa dancer) who I have met here in Medellin. He recently returned from a two year stint in the UK. Chatting to him has made me grateful for having an SA passport, which I would have never have thought possible before. There are only 4 countries in the world which do not require visas for Colombians!

Ruben and I in front of the church in Santa Fe

Nati Number 1..always close to shops and markets.

Nati number 2 in her natural environment...pool side!

Their mates and significant others made up the rest of the group travelling to the country cottage which they amusingly all refer to as a farm. Maybe farms are different back home but seriously, a house on an average sized stand in a fenced off resort with a pool is not a farm. What the hell do they farm with? Grass and empty beer bottles? Anyway, shopping was all done beforehand and a worrying proportion of it was made up of 2.5 litre bottles of Aguardiente, beer and that devil's broth known as Ron de Medellin. Yuck. Something that I had not seen before are the wildly popular litre boxes of booze being sold over here. They look identical to milk cartons at home (like Everfresh I think) and are obviously made for rapid consumption. I mean it is kind of strange to see apparently good 3 year old rum being sold in a box? Damn near killed me the first time I took one of these cartons out of a fridge, thinking that it was milk for the tea I sorely needed, due to another pounding hangover! Imagine the horror!

Having arrived at the cottage it quickly became clear that this group was made up of the rich local kids. Paisas generally have quite an inflated opinion of themselves compared to the rest of the country and feverishly hold onto all the things that somehow make them different to other Colombianos. This includes their accent (which I am apparently picking up...in Spanish!) and the general perception that Paisa girls are the best thing since sliced bread. It also means that some serious stereo types exist where the ladies and gentlemen over here generally have very specific roles to play. Think of your average Pretoria braai with more makeup and drinking. The ladies make the salads here too! I had a good laugh listening to some of them referring to people from other parts of the country as 'garbage' and generally making sweeping statements about everything from Africa to the local football. The girls had such a strong Koogal accent that it was like being in a Spanish Sandton and the fellas pretty much sat around and plotted around what they wanted to do next. I laughed really hard at times as this was almost as strange for my friend Ruben and Nati as it was for me. At stages the ladies all sat around me and giggled uncontrollably as they tried to teach me more words that would make me undeniably Paisa. I was also incessantly questioned about what I thought of Paisa girls. I generally tend to get mighty uncomfortable at questions which really only have one 'correct' answer that is at odds with what I really think! The cackling applause to my answer seemed to signal that all was ok though. It must be said that once again the levels of general friendliness and warmth were unlike anything I have experienced outside of this country.

The cottage / farm trip gang

Its really strange to be in a place where many cities are literally and quite famously rated according to their women?! The other day I was telling someone that I was maybe going to another town called Pereira. The immediate response I received was that Pereira girls are the easiest in Colombia and I kid you not that every response after that was exactly the same, from girls and guys alike! Must be tough being a girl from Pereira!? I do think that very similar comparisons exist in parts of SA but I reckon that I was lucky enough to personally not have too much exposure to that, due mainly to the places I liked going to and more generally the people that I was close to.

Beer and Colombian Cafe in Santa Fe!

Santa Fe at night with some of the bustling markets

It was good Friday on my second day in San Jeronimo and we moved off to Santa Fe for some late afternoon drinks and to watch the Holy Procession of those guys who look like scary KKK druids. Damn frightening I tell you and made worse by the sickly looking Jesus and Mary that are being carried around with them and the haunting music that this bit piece band plays during the procession. The town is beautiful at night though and everyone had a calm happiness about them which was great to be a part of.

Quite a sight as thousands line the streets for the procession

Yeah this looks a little scary...better not to provoke these fellows

I wonder who washes their robes? Quite impressive really, but is it Mary or Jesus?

One of the stunning Churches in Santa Fe!

I enjoyed the spectacle and we returned home that evening for a massive braai and loads of merriment. I tell you, it was super close to home for me with the meat sizzling away and the drinks flowing. I could almost hear Hugh Bladen’s drunken rugby commentary in the background! Everyone made sure that plenty photos were taken of me supposedly showing off typically Colombian attire and accessories.

Just like Home!

New mates and my Sombrero!

I must confess to knowing very little about what is going on here

Sombrero, Hammock and box rum...distinctly Colombian!

After dinner a pack of cards was produced and a table cleared for the serious business of drinking games. I was already quite tanked at this stage, but the confidence was there and I was sure that I could prevail in these circumstances. Once again I underestimated the Colombian ability to imbibe alcohol. This was also made worse by the games being played in Spanish. This friendly lot actually offered to speak English but I was far to stubborn for that and told them not to be ridiculous…in Spanish of course. At one stage we all had to count and, my abilities now impaired by alcohol, I was taken to the cleaners as maths and counting in another language all became just a tad too difficult for me. Presented with my first tumbler of rum that I had to throw back, I naively asked for a chaser. I was literally handed half a lemon to suck on if required. This was serious stuff and I rolled up my sleeves and silently resolved to take this game by the scruff of the neck as it was now becoming a matter of survival. My head was swimming and I could feel that name-throwing was minutes and not hours away. I picked up my game but was still shown up far too often to really make a recovery. Next a game with cards and 8 spoons was revealed and this became even more complicated. I tell you, the laughing was hysterical at stages and the tears were literally streaming. The vast array of games was impressive and thoroughly enjoyable even if it was interspersed with further revolting shots. I wish I could remember more of them! Obviously my condition was deteriorating and I looked around to see if others were at least struggling somewhat. It seemed like it but I couldn’t be sure. I quipped to Nati, who was sitting next to me, about how roasted we were, so that I could gauge some sort of a response. She replied that in Colombian terms this was getting tipsy. I went cold with fear and it took some minutes for me to accept that I had been thoroughly routed in this battle. I went to bed (first!) about fifteen minutes later and almost broke my neck as I repeatedly tried to get onto the top bunk bed that was assigned to me. Outside, the raucous laughing continued unabated until 6:30 in the morning!

Another Colombian pastime...riding a saddle minus the horse.

The spoon drinking game...absolutely ridiculous!

The next morning, or early afternoon, we headed back to Medellin. A great time was had by all and I thankfully had started to develop a tan again. It has to be said that I was not really contributing to conversation in the car as I hid behind my shades and Ipod, trying desperately to string a thought together. I guess I’m finding it tough to accept that I am now some sort of a geeky foreign lightweight.