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Richard McColl

~ Journalist-Author-Hotelier-Guide in Colombia

Richard McColl

Tag Archives: South America

Advice on Visiting Colombia

12 Wednesday Dec 2012

Posted by Richard in Journeys

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adventure travel, advice on visiting colombia, colombia travel guides, drugs in colombia, FARC, how to travel in colombia, kidnapping in colombia, lonely planet colombia, miss colombia, politics in colombia, rotting social infrastructure, short walks from bogota, South America, things to do in colombia, tom feiling, travel to colombia

KONICA MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERAVisiting Colombia, land of hummingbirds, fabulous beaches, tropical fruit, beautiful women, coffee, emeralds and other products so beloved of guidebook blurbs and national tourism bureaus can be a daunting prospect and lead to an investigation rife with misinformation. Colombia, the only risk is wanting to stay. Colombia, C-o-l-o-m-b-i-a (you have now been officially warned regarding the spelling), parties, late nights, wild festivals, breathtaking scenery, colonial towns, aguardiente and warm friendly people. There’s simply too much to see and do in Colombia, the country is a mouthwatering assault on your senses, a place to relax, a place for adventure and above all a place to enjoy and respect.

In not one gasp for breath in the last paragraph did I pause to break to mention guerrillas, paramilitaries, protests, cocaine, kidnapping, extortion, illegal mining, exploitation, feudalism, regionalism or human rights violations. I’m not ignoring these facts and neither should you.

You can come to Colombia and remain thoroughly oblivious to the aforementioned blights on the country, but, it would be a tough task. Although, saying that, I am certain that there are some backpackers in-country with no inkling about what is going on here. Take heed of events, read the newspapers and relevant websites, show an interest and leave with an informed, albeit possibly, shallow opinion of life and politics here. Read your country’s Travel Warning Advice page for Colombia and then once you are back home, still spewing about the glories of your holiday, promote this fantastic country of mountains, beaches, jungles, savannahs, deserts, rivers and plateaus.

The port at Magangue

The port at Magangue

Some advice:

  • Do your research

Read the relevant literature on Colombia as there are many books to choose from that can keep you up to speed and informed. Buy a guidebook and read it prior to coming over, but use it as just that, a guide…it’s not a bible, it’s not a lifestyle and the moment it’s in print it’s out of date. Talk to people, check around and enjoy the adventure.

Short Walks from Bogota by Tom Feiling

Short Walks from Bogota by Tom Feiling

  • Do not be tempted into trying “national product”.

To quote from one hostel website: “Please don’t forget that the consumption of cocaine significantly damages Colombian society. Money spent on cocaine goes directly to support armed groups, fighting in Colombia’s internal conflict, leading to assassinations, kidnappings, massacres and one of the world’s largest refugee problems. Consuming cocaine means nothing less than having somebody’s blood on your hands…..”

 

  • Don’t romanticize your trip through tales of derring-do

This asshole quoted below wrote all about “it kicking off” and an imminent “civil war” in Colombia. Aside from the severe inadequacies in his knowledge of Colombia all of this came just one page after he had written on his blog how he was now earning an income from Google ad-sense. So, can we presume that he was exaggerating to drive further traffic to his site with the hope of gaining some revenue? Tell the truth, it makes for a better story, most of the time!

Blog on Colombia

Blog on Colombia

 

  • Don’t limit yourself to a strict budget

Banish all thoughts of saving money or sticking to an extremely tight travel budget on your trip to Colombia. Accommodation is not as pricey as places such as Chile or Brazil, but transport – for the quality – can be a real stinger. And remember, you’re here to enjoy yourself, have a lobster in Capurgana, eat out some nights, and enjoy the local cuisine. Why limit yourself to a diet of boiled eggs and be miserable?

 

  • Be adventurous

Within reason. I am not telling you to hike off into the wilderness to contact an unknown indigenous tribe, nor I am suggesting that you should try and contact the guerrillas, but, check out places of interest, don’t shy away from adventurous travel plans. If you have to hump it up a mountain, catch a boat and then hire a mule, then that’s pure unadulterated travel.

 

  • Do discuss politics and the Colombian situation but remain objective

Remember your surroundings as this is a highly politicized country. You are here as a guest and there’s no reason for you to push your own political agenda. Listen to Colombians and learn from them as they have lived the situation, have suffered due to the conflict and have a far greater understanding than we will ever be able to achieve.

My Colombian Death

My Colombian Death

 

  • Stick to a time limit in cities

The historical and contemporary importance of cities in Colombia cannot be overstated, but, cities are cities and to really get out there and enjoy Colombian hospitality and experience the regions then you need to head out into the small towns and into the countryside.

 

  • Don’t be deceived: Beauty and opulence often belies a rotting social infrastructure

Behind the facades of shopping malls, surgically enhanced plastic women and the shiny latest model cars lays an altogether different reality of IDPs, violence and clandestine industry. Just remember that when you are uptown Bogota, Medellin’s Poblado or somewhere else similar.

The Miss Colombia beauty pageant

The Miss Colombia beauty pageant

 

  • However long you travel, you are only going to scratch the surface

You could spend months here in Colombia and not get to everywhere you want to. I have been here for going on 7 years as an expat resident and am still missing some really important destinations.

 

  • Put away your Che Guevara Tees

Check out the reverse side of the $1000 peso bill and you’ll see Che Guevara and Fidel Castro there in the crowd listening to Gaitain speaking at a rally. I’ve said it before and I will repeat it continually, leave your politics at home.

Fidel and Che on the Colombia $1000 peso bill

Fidel and Che on the Colombia $1000 peso bill

  • Book for more days than you Originally Envisage

Don’t rush Colombia, if you are thinking of coming for two weeks; better make time for four as you will never do the country justice in 14 days!

San Agustin’s Enormous pre Columbian Cemetery

02 Wednesday May 2012

Posted by Richard in Journalism, Journeys

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adventure travel, cemetery, colombia, pre columbia, pre columbian ruins, ruins, San Agustin, South America, where to go in colombia

Here in the districts of Saladoblanco, Isnos and San Agustin, the topography is uneven; valleys, hill plateaus and mountainous clusters come together to form its exotic and varied landscape. It is in this geographically contradictory territory to the south of Huila that in 5300BC an advanced culture evolved existed and disappeared in this strategically important natural passage from the foothills of the Colombian Massif to the Amazon.

“Anyone can make an interpretation of what happened here or what these figures represent.

 

“There are no accounts, no literature or folklore that exist that can help us understand the Agustinian culture any better. Therefore any studies carried out will be vague and all assumptions based upon similar artistic forms from other regions in the Americas.”

One thinks that my guide, Rosiverio Lopes Ibarra, could become increasingly frustrated at guiding people around this site on a daily basis and not having the answers to persistent badgering from the tourists, given that they are arriving in larger quantities month after month as word gets around that it is now safe to visit the region.

But he remains softly spoken, informative and collected in the face of my barrage of questions regarding the demise of these people, the kind of calm and unwavering tolerance that you would expect from a father of 18.

“Was it disease, war or the Spanish that wiped these people out?”

He smiles, his eyes sparkling despite 36 years of guiding here:

“If it was war, then there has to be a victor, here we have no sign of that. The Spanish arrived after the demise of the Agustinians and were largely confined to grave-robbing, but most likely, there was a climactic alteration and this affected the populous greatly. At the time we estimate the culture to have disappeared, the corresponding event in Europe was a mini ice age.”

Grave robbers have strafed the area. First the Spanish who in their search for El Dorado, kidnapped a Xaman’s son and demanded a ransom leading the local people to ransack the burial mounds and later by subsequent mercenaries from the Antioquia region, according to Rosiverio. These grave robbers knew little of the area and suspected that each figurine and statue contained a similar gold likeness within the stone carving. One can view the desecration that took place by man made fault lines that split some of the statues in two as they searched in vain to find the elusive or rather, non-existent gold in the interior of the stone.

It is not only the topography that offers contradictions inherent in this area around San Agustin. The interpretations of the conventional or symbolic art of these zoomorphic and anthropomorphic sculptures are pivotal to our understanding of the Agustinian culture and it is this obstacle that represents perhaps the most daunting task.

Rosiverio points out a carving that indeed does resemble a gorilla. Of course Gorillas are unknown to this continent, could it have been something else? Not in his opinion, to him this proves the migration of people via the Magellan Straits and the exchange and ideas, religious beliefs and traditions. Of course I cannot fault his version, I try and play devil’s advocate and cite pieces of knowledge I have gleaned from Chile’s Easter Island, Guatemala’s Tikal, Bolivia’s Tiwanaku and Peru’s Macchu Pichu.

Put into context through carbon dating, the Agustinian culture is thought to have disappeared around the same time as the decline of the Mayan empire. After the Agustinians came another people, the Yalcones, thought to have been agriculturally minded and nomadic.

My respect for Rosiverio increases as he takes on board my comments. There is a thoughtful understanding in his manner, of course, I am nothing special, and he has heard these before. He motions for me to come and look at another statue. In my mind there is no room to doubt his statements here; this sculpture is reminiscent of many on the continent. The figure’s hands have the coca pot and leaves clasped to its abdomen and its cheeks are bulging as if chewing the sacred crop.

Another important looking statue can only be that of a God of war. He wears a necklace with a skull and is bordered by two sinister looking club-brandishing guards. Obviously he is a male, his phallus is strapped down, his jaguar smile and eagle’s eyes glare out and stare through me. There is a power evident the magic religious ideology of these sculptures. They evoke a time past, one of greater mortality, faith and mystery. As I kneel to take a photograph and take full advantage of the balmy afternoon sunlight, a wind picks up in the branches of the fiery cachingo tree. Rosiverio pauses for a moment as if gauging me for his next tale.

“Some people here believe that when the wind blows this way it represents the proximity of the Turumama. She is a corpulent and ample breasted spirit who looks for men lost alone in the forest here and then after seducing them, sticks a breast into the victim’s mouth to drown him.”

Fortunately, Turumama does not make herself apparent and Rosiverio claims to never have seen her.

Taking into account the quantity and variety of the archaeological relics recovered, sculptures, sarcophagi, monoliths, tombs, artificial mounds, a vast number of ceramics and numerous works of gold it can be agreed and deduced that here was a pueblo that acquired a high grade of cultural development from the point of view of its evident social structure that produced great sculptors, artisans, farmers and above all the cultivation of a complex religious cult built around the enigma of death.

Winding through the jungle environment of the Bosque de las Estatuas allows you to appreciate the statues as they would have looked. While these pieces were recovered from farmhouses and arable land from the surrounding region where they were being used as flooring and door lintels amongst other things, they sit in ample space, carefully protected and set against the backdrop of gnarled root clusters and the dank closeness of the vines that is indicative of the green tangle of nature that abounds here ready to reclaim these volcanic carvings back from whence they came.

I feel comforted as I retreat to San Agustin. There is something reassuring that we still have yet to master and qualify here. The unknown can offer us a certain humility and respect for these forbears. I suspect Rosiverio knows this too, in his quiet and contemplative manner.

(This piece was written as a blog for www.colombia.travel in my role as an Official Blogger, you can see the original here)

Should’ve Been there, Reflections on the 40th Vallenato Festival

24 Tuesday Apr 2012

Posted by Richard in Journalism, Journeys

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accordion, adventures in colombia, adventures in south america, colombia, colombia.travel, colombian music, ernesto samper, festival vallenato, festivals in colombia, folk music, official bloggers, South America, valledupar, vallenato, vallenato festival

In the background the famed Vallenato accordionist, Alfredo Gutierrez was hammering out a tune with his foot whilst held aloft on the shoulders of five of his band members. In front of me, former Colombian President Ernesto Samper was handing me a chicharron pork scratching that I had just seen him retrieve from the floor.

“Are you hungry, have a pork scratching?”

“No thank you.”

“You can’t refuse this. This is a Presidential pork scratching.” Wise words uttered by the former President as he waved a Cuban cigar wand-like to illustrate the importance of his gift.

I politely declined.

This spectacle was complete and absolute mayhem – Colombian style – all seen through an Old Parr whisky induced haze, seemingly the only drink to be had during the 40th Vallenato Music Festival in Valledupar, a not unpleasant city of half a million inhabitants located very close to the border with Venezuela and a bone jarring sixteen hour bus ride north from Bogota.

Having never had the opportunity to listen to Vallenato music prior to coming to the 40th Festival de Musica Vallenata in 2007, I was now undertaking a pretty rigorous and intensive five day course as with my Catalan sidekick, Joan, we planned to assemble some sort of documentary on the event. And what better year to be here than in its 40th edition when the numerous troubadours from the Colombian interior narrate in their uneducated yet accessible fashion, tales of love, myths and more interestingly politics, through the medium of this particular music.

Vallenato could be loosely interpreted as folk music, but is free of the uncool stigma attached to folk. Children, adolescents, parents and grandparents alike can be found dancing to the four strains of Vallenato music, puya, son, paseo and merengue. More aggressive than the Ranchera music of Mexico and far less sexy than the Tango of Argentina, Vallenato music is reaching an international audience spanning from Venezuela and Mexico to parts of Germany and Eastern Europe.

“Classic Vallenato is like an ordinary Costeña (lady from the coastal region). Pretty with a good body but nothing overwhelming special,” according to Maria Mercedes, the daughter La Cacique, the founder of the festival. “Vallenato music as played by Carlos Vives is like a Costeña dressed in an Armani outfit adorned with jewellery and makeup.”

Taking this image we were off to hear Carlos Vives in concert at the stadium on the outskirts of town. Not for the first time or the last, our taxi driver enquired as to whether we had yet bathed in the waters of the river Gautipuri. It is said that those who feel the cool waters from the glacier melt from the mountains of the Sierra Nevada will return to Valledupar. There was no time for myself or Joan to take a dip right now, but a mental note was made.

How the people danced and sang along with every one of Carlos Vives’ songs. All about us the crowd heaved to the rasping noise of the traditional guacharaca, the hammering of the caja drum and frenetic accordion.

Before leaving Bogota for Valledupar I spoke to as many Colombians as possible about the Festival and the music. Regarding the Festival the only response I could glean was one of regret that they were not attending the unstoppable parrandas. These Parrandas – best described as booze soaked parties that run past dawn – are both public and private parties thrown during the duration of the Festival with live music. Very often the stars make their turns here, and imbibe copious amounts of Old Parr whisky. It was at one party at the upmarket Callejon de las Estrellas restaurant that we were able to interview former President Ernesto Samper, coax him into singing on camera for the documentary and see Carlos Vives sing to an intimately small audience.

Live Vallenato music itself works here when performed to a small crowd. I remain doubtful of its stadium appeal if it is not to be dressed up like a “Costeña in an Armani outfit” like Carlos Vives’ music, but there is no doubt that it is an integral part of the makeup of the Colombian identity. At this parranda, in the company of famed Vallenato artists, the brothers Ciro and Alvaro Meza, I would learn of the origins of Vallenato music.

While there is live music sounding from every plaza, Hotel forecourt, the Parque de La Leyenda and countless other places during the Festival in Valledupar. The music that resonates from the boom boxes, car woofers, amps loaded onto trucks and from the parrandas in front gardens is something to behold. There is no thought of excessive volume, after all, you are here and you are here to enjoy what is on offer. Certainly my neighbours must be in accordance with this statement since their parranda started at 6.30am upon their return from the official events downtown and in my fragile slumbers I think they finally collapsed near to 10am.

The three principal instruments represent the different facets to the Colombian identity. The accordion, brought to these shores in the pirate ships at the latter end of the 18th Century, represents the colonial and therefore European background. The guacharaca – an instrument somewhat delivering the same sound as a washboard or spoon along a cheese grater, is a traditional indigenous instrument. And the caja drum is something directly from the slaves hauled to this continent from African countries such as Guinea. All of these instruments mixed together in a pressure cooker like Valledupar and accompanied by a vocalist perhaps go some way to explaining the complexities and paradoxes of the Continent.

Reflecting on the human warmth that accompanied us all through the Vallenato Festival, we made sure to bathe in the river to assure our return. Clambering back up the river bank, entire families were cooking sancocho soups on open fires, slumbering in hammocks and seeing two foreign faces, repeatedly invited us to sit with them, lunch or toast with a whisky. This is Valledupar and the wonder of the Festival de la Musica Vallenata.

(A censored version appeared of this article appeared on the Colombia.travel website. Apparently they don’t like mention made of any politics, even if only referring to a pork scratching! You can see the blog entry here)

 

Clean Shaven into Ecuador

19 Thursday Apr 2012

Posted by Richard in Journalism, Journeys

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adventure travel, border crossings, border requirements, borders, clean shaven, ecuador, peru, South America, travels though south america

My wake-up call was a gun muzzle to the neck.

Drawing up at the Ecuadorian immigration post, several kilometers on from the Peruvian exit over parched wasteland, we cut an unruly unwashed rabble of Englishmen and a couple of Irish girls. Unshaven and having slept for a couple of days in my present clothes it could be argued that I was the least desirable potential entrant.

One by one my traveling companions approached the desk and in turn received their entry visa with no questions asked. My turn came and eager to continue the smooth running of the operation, I obediently stepped forward fully expecting similar treatment.

“Ingles? How long do you plan to spend in Ecuador?” He asked glancing over me.

“Oh, I am not sure, there is so much to see, perhaps you should give me the full three month visa. Yes, that would be great.”

The official leaned back creaking in his chair thumbing the pages of my passport with indifference. As he looked up at me and at back my photograph it was then I knew that I was not going to get an easy ride.

“Ingles, this does not look like you.”

“I can assure you it is me,” I kept my voice calm knowing that you never want to upset someone in this authoritative capacity. “Look at the eyes, they are the same.”

Realizing that he was looking for something else and perhaps not permission to gaze into my eyes, I tried a different tact. Surely he just wanted a bribe? So I asked politely,

“What is it I need to do to enter Ecuador? How can we speed this process along?”

He looked at me again, fingers stroking the stubble on his chin and pushing my passport across the desk towards me as he deliberated. I had obviously said the right thing. His stern demeanor altered considerably as enlightenment appeared to cross his face.

“Go back and have a shave and make yourself look like the photograph.”

Surely he was having a laugh at my expense. But, one does not argue with the little big men behind the desks at border crossings.

Half an hour later and perfectly groomed, shirt changed to suit the occasion and smelling of Gillette post shave gel I was ready to attempt to enter Ecuador once again. My official was nowhere to be seen. In his place sat another official in immaculately pressed uniform. With no effort whatsoever my passport was stamped and 90 days was granted without question

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