Colombia, mi plan Colombia, and what has happened

It´s been two weeks since I left Colombia and I´m writing from much further south now. Still, I´m not sure where to start with that country or my experience there. First, some facts:

I flew into Cartagena, using all my wisdom to trump the temptation of taking a pirate ship across the channel from Panama. A quick bus ride got me to the center of Cartagena, that colonial, walled paradise of a city. If you haven´t seen pictures of Cartagena, do a quick image search. It´s worth the trouble. And then know, that within those city walls are all the fruits and juices and fish and museums and a market of books and quaint hotels and carraige rides and goodness, I´m not sure what else you could want. The city has every particular charm that a traveller could possibly want. I found my juice spot and had several fresh juices each day- orange and pineapple and passionfruit and guayabana and other fruits that don´t translate. I ate fish each day for lunch- whole fishes fried and served in coconut milk, along with patacones, little fried banana patties. I visited the museums and churches, spent a day up at the castle of San Felipe and went for runs along the city walls.

After three days in this neverland it feld good to move again. It's hard to explain why my heart wanted to leave somewhere so perfect, but it did. I had some some reassuring conversations with Colombians and decided on the overnight bus from Cartagena to Medellin. In the past this bus trip has been plenty dangerous- the hangover is that the bus fare is over US$50. The trip felt totally safe. I arrived in Medellin early in the day, caught the metro to the center of the city Parque Berrio, and found a decent hotel room. It can be quite the art to find a room in my price range that is not otherwise used for several hours of sex by local folks. I´ve been lucky so far in that none of my lodgings have charged by the hour. This particular hotel did have some of the trappings of a love nest- the room had a cd player, for example. Later in the day, I discovered that hotel resides above several strip clubs, the Saturday-nite spots for mototaxistas and cobradores. I walked around a bit at night, ate some street food and soaked in music. This heightened the feeling of solitude of a Saturday night at the center of the Colmbian cosmos. It was a relief to sleep and wake up Sunday morning.

I walked and walked through Medellin and soaked it in- totally cosmopolitan, wonderful arts, surrounded by mountains, served by an excellent metro. The best city I can think to compare it to is Portland- surrounded by mountains, separated by a river, traversed by light rail and bicycle. It´s with plenty of warmth for Colombia that I employ this analogy.

Warmth for Colombia, certainly, but my experience there- little me walking around in the world- was something different. Finally, the Paul Theroux voice in my head shut itself off, and for the first time, I felt really lonely. It was my own fault for not engaging more with people, but I also think this was intentional. I think my heart had finally emptied itself out- of Portland, of work, of lonely travel narratives. My heart was making room, I believe, to return to Peru. And I welcomed this transition. Over a month of travelling alone, hotel rooms and street food, brief exchanges and anxious borders, had done something to me. And I needed this to happen. I needed to come home, to get back to the country and the village that had taken me in. I needed to see my godson and eat guinea pig and dance huayno all night.

It feels good to get this off my chest. In Peru I don´t walk around thinking about what to blog, and I´m glad for it. It´s too much. The things that happen here are strange and beautiful and I will write about them, with time. But for a while, what has happened is that I have come home to a different home, and I am happy, and I´m going to stay for a while.

PS. If you´re not put off by amateur theories about what´s wrong with Colombia (but really the US), keep reading:

As an angry undergrad, I used my poly sci courses to vent my anger about Plan Colombia- the US plan to invest in and train the Colombian military to battle the FARC and its drug-based economy. Sure, governments are within their rights to combat drug production. But this stupid plan ignores the fact that the engines of drug economy are the nostrils of thrill-seaking, life-hating American and European kids. If the US has billions to spend on drug wars, spend them in American schools- teach kids to love art and literature and music. When they turn 22, they´ll spend their money at Powell´s instead of giving all their disposable income to the dude in the cowboy hat at the back of the Matador. Just sayin.