Seasonal Changes

The month of September usually is a month, at least for me, that has always been a significant marker of time every year. What I mean to say is September is a month that stands out because of the many changes in brings, everything from weather to a new school year starting. However, this September has been one of the more memorable ones of seasons past for a number of reasons.

First, I moved into a new apartment and basically figured out my routine down here in Colombia. Once you find your stride in a relatively new place, things all of a sudden become more enjoyable; you have a favorite restaurant, you know where the find the best cup of coffee in town, that market in the plaza of America has the freshest produce, etc. I am finally feeling like I am apart of the city and can easily get around. I am participating more in class because of my own confidence and the trust I have in my classmates and professors. I even enhanced my fluidity in Spanish, but with all this positive comes a bit of negative; September flew by like the Space Shuttle's last flight over San Francisco last week. I can't believe we are already at the end of the month. After some more pondering it is actually easy to comprehend; a more amplified network of friends and increased participation in city life makes room for lots more activities- sorry but no karate in the garage yet. Here are some highlights of the past month...

The beginning of September was marked by an exam-blahhh no one wants to hear about that so we'll leave it at that. The second weekend was a bit more exciting because of a holiday called "Friendship and Love Day," which takes place on the 14th of September every year. Yeah, I know, Valentine's Day in September, totally weird, but hey, just go with it. Instead of a hot date or sharing a cup of joe with one of my pals, I was invited by my classmate Natalia to accompany her, her husband, and 11 year old daughter to a small town about 45 minutes outside of Medellin, called Rio Negro. Basically, it is a large open area high in the mountains where the international airport lies, along with tons of country homes, or more commonly known here as "fincas." However, our agenda was to go to a park where there was a free concert by the famous group here in Colombia, Puerto Candaleria. Check them out on the internet, they are some pretty sick dudes who put on a great live show. Although there was a concert, the park also serves as a tourist attraction. Tourists can pass through it and see how life was like in the past in a typical town in Colombia. Kind of like Williamsburgh, Virginia, but Colombian style; don't worry, it comes with all the works, including the cheesy reenactments. After a long day, we headed to a pizza place for dinner then drove back to Medellin. On the way back as their daughter slept, Natalia and her husband had a nice long chat with me. I found out that he played professional basketball for Colombia's national team- totally makes sense seeing that he is the by far the tallest Colombian male I have seen down here, and will probably stay that way. Also, I hate to admit it, but he knows more about the Pittsburgh Steelers than I do. So, the next week in class I gave Natalia the Terrible Towel I brought down with me so that her husband could have some authentic regalia, ah shucks I'm such a nice guy (trust me, wasn't that difficult to part with seeing that I couldn't care less about the NFL).

Puerto Candaleria

Chiva!!

The following weekend was even better. I headed out to another small town about two hours from Medellin with my buddy from class, Santiago Bedoya. Now, Santi, he is a business man. I mean the dude is a force, not only is he studying for a master degree; he's working full time during the week developing business ideas for rural folk, AND helping run the family business-coffee growing and mining. Yeah, he's a boss. Anyway, I woke up early Saturday morning, packed and eager to set out on another adventure. This one was a little more, oh how do I put it, authentic...than Rio Negro. First, the bus driver set out like they were filming a remake of Speed, I almost lost my lunch crossing into the Andes mountains. However, after an hour of swerving and bobbing, Santi said we were arriving to Santa Barbara. WAAAAY smaller than Medellin, but a good representation of how the majority of Colombians live. It was nice to see an authentic town and the mix of traditional life with that of the modern. One side of the road you see trucks transporting coffee and the other donkeys carrying bags of fruit or coffee-one thing is for sure, Colombia hasn't forgotten its roots. As we got close to the church, I tried to bust out some technical Spanish and ask Santi if that was the old Parish. However, unbeknownst to me, I actually somehow fuddled it up and said a slang word for Paramilitaries (bad group of people here in Colombia that have killed and hurt many). As soon as the words left my lips Santi, with huge eyes said "What?!!" After he told me of my error we chuckled and kept moving, although it would be a lie if I told you I didn't take a double take before crossing the rest of the plaza. After getting a quick bite, assuming we were close to his home, Santi told me come on, we have another bus to take. Problem was, this was no ordinary bus...this was a chiva. Now I will let the pictures do the talking, but this is what we road for almost an hour across the rough mountain terrain to get to the country home of Santi. Upon arrival, I was introduced to the fam and fed a wonderful homemade lunch; pretty sure the raspberry smoothie drink had been prepared mere minutes before my arrival. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, everything tastes better in the country.

Me and Santiago

After lunch, we headed to his Uncle's finca just up the road. Now, I have to point out, the views from these homes are pure greatness. The color and vibrancy of Colombia's landscape is astounding and puts many contenders to shame. Just take a look at the pics.

Tres Cordilleras

Now, the next issue was a business meeting of the family. Since the uncle, father, brothers, aunt are all involved, I decided to duck out and explore the farm when all of a sudden, I passed an open shed full of like 12 puppies. Cute, right?...Wrong. For the next half hour these dirtballs wouldn't let me be. I almost punted the one off a cliff because he wouldn't stop chewing on my shoelaces. However, even with all that fun, the time lagged on and on. Their meeting lasted I think close to two hours-it was sunset by the time they were done. I have to say though, my respect for Santi went way up because he seemed to be the leader in all of it. He is the perfect balance between small rural town and big city. He is very educated, but understands the less fortunate people and their needs; more importantly how to address them effectively. After the meeting it was party and food time, so we headed down to another Finca (don't worry everyone is welcome almost anywhere as long as you know someone) and prepared dinner: grilled steak, arepa, potatoes, rice, and lots of rum. We built a fire outside and talked for hours. It really was a nostalgic moment because it reminded me of camping with my family and how much I miss them. But, by 2am it was only me, Santi, and his middle brother. But even the strong grow weary, so we turned in too.

Waking up was painful, I decided to sleep in my contacts-worst idea ever. I woke up and could barely open my eyes and they were so red everyone asked me if I needed a doctor. So the rest of that Sunday was a pretty big wash. I couldnt tour the coffee production route like I wanted and I couldnt be outside because the light would burn my eyes. So after a few modest attempts to check out more of the farm, we headed up to his mom's place for our final lunch. It was Sancocho; a traditional plate in Colombia made with almost any kind of meat, but mostly chicken,  along with large pieces of plantain, yuca, potato, and cilantro. It is usually served with a plate of white rice on the side. Well...I had three servings, so I would recommend to anyone.
After lunch we sat on the porch and digested, all the while carrying on like family. One main question was "William, when are you coming back?" and as Santi and I boarded the bus back to Medellin, I thought to myself as soon as I get the chance.

Now that leaves one weekend left in September, but I must attest that the trip to Bogota deserves a blog post in its self. The only two things I can tell you now is it involves gold and over-dramatic male singers.