Cali.. when words are insufficient

I am racing off the plane when we arrive in Cali, and Edward is chuckling at me. We have a fairly clear run until the baggage claim.The baggage claim is right in front of the wall of glass and glass doors leading to the people waiting for the arrivals – so close but yet so far away!!! It’s torturous! I squint my eyes while searching the crowd for my “Nail” while absent mindedly turning toward the luggage carousel. Four waving arms pop up and my heart soars! I exclaim,“They’re here Babe!” as I wave frantically back. After finally lugging our bags off the carousel, I am re-united with my Nail. As I hug her, I can’t believe we managed to stay apart for five long years.

Luzma & I

Maybe an explanation for my “Nail” analogy is necessary. Whilst studying in London, I moved around quite a bit. In my final year, I was sharing an apartment with friends in Ealing. It is here, that I met my new family. As I mentioned before, Luzma and Samir, are incredible human beings. I found in them motivation, inspiration and freedom. We created a life in London, a world within a world, that I have missed every single day since I left. Luzma and I had become very close, running off and having adventures and doing every little thing together. One evening, after a particuarly harrowing adventure, Samir arrived home to find us both curled up under a blanket on the couch, nursing our teas and particularly wide-eyed. As he walked in the door, he faced a frontal verbal explosion of us re-counting the day’s events to him. He relived every moment with us, then shook his head smiling to himself and said, “You two are like Nail and Dirt, nothing comes between you!”

We are tightly packed in their Renault Twingo with my, as always, ridiculously overpacked suticase, but I am as happy as I can be. I want to soak up their every feature, their every move, their separately distinct accents and I am just happy to be back in our own little world!

When we arrive at their home, I close my eyes and smile inside. It is everything I could imagine it would be of them both – practical, modest, warm, artsy, detailed, light and very much Luzma and Samir. We chatter and chatter devouring up every detail from each other and I have to keep reminding myself that Samir has to teach a class in the morning. We hug and kiss goodnight, and I am as excited as a kid for tomorrow morning when we can chatter and chatter again.

Andina Bailar in La Loma de la Cruz.

La Loma de la Cruz is an active street that ascends one of the many hilltops in Cali. The street is lined with artisans, musicians and a neatly tucked away art gallery owned and run by the lovely Mireya. As we walk into Mireya’s very intimate gallery, Edward and I are greeted with big warm hugs and lots of very quick Spanish that goes completely over my head. In any event, even if I could understand what they were saying, I would not have heard them. I was too taken with the art hanging on the walls and on the floor propped up against the walls to really try to wrap my head around the fast flying Spanish.

I shake off my initial awe and in my broken, improper verb and tense usage, enquire about two pieces which have snagged my curiosity. Luzma has to act as interpreter for Mireya’s explanations about the artist Guayasamin. As Mireya speaks her gentle Spanish and Luzma translates to me, I see the struggle which he depicts playing itself out in the art and at the end of her very lucid and vivid explanation, I know we have found our piece.

After some delicious empanadas and local Colombian beer, we finally end up at the Andina Bailar. When Luzma said to me, “We go to dance here at least once a week”, I had a vision of a little courtyard with a music set-up and individual couples dancing to the traditional local music. What it actually was…. was incredible!

We walked up the street from Mireya’s gallery and we could hear the very upbeat traditional music before we came to a dead end. At the very end of the street, there was a large recessed circular plaza under the blessing of a lovely carved stone cross. As I stood on the upper verge of the plaza, I was met with a crowd of at least 100 people of every age, color and description, in a joyous flash mob dance of extraordinary intricacy! Everyone in that circle was awash with smiles and laughter. I felt their happy energy and you couldn’t help but bob to the tempo of the infectious music.

I was quickly tugged into the dancing whirlwind by Julianna, Luzma’s beautiful niece who does this type of dance professionally. Intimated does not even begin to cover it! However, I surrender myself to the energy and joy of the crowd and pretty soon I am Andina Bailar-ing! In a moment of laughter and movement, I threw my head back and lifted my eyes to the sky, and there it is…. the beautiful open night sky, the stars, the concrete cross under the street lights of the circular plaza and all these happy dancing people. There is no word to aptly describe that moment other than, euphoric.

Andina Bailar in La Loma de la Cruz

Driving to the Unicentro.

Edward and I wanted to get some souvenirs for our family, and Luzma and Samir directed us to the Unicentro, which is a very nice shopping mall in Cali. As they were both working, Luzma lent us her car, gave us the address and off we went! If you thought Trinidadian drivers were bad…. Think again! Our trip to the mall was rife with being accosted by a man in a gorilla suit at the traffic lights, almost being driven over, across and into by several mopeds, motorbikes, motorized “tri-pods” and more of a roller coaster ride than a drive! Never the less, my Captain got us there and back, safe and sound.

Luzma, I am sorry about the nail marks on your passenger seat!

 El Cerro de la Tres Cruzs.

Throughout our stay in the city of Cali there were three visible constants:

1         The beautiful and powerful mountain range;

2        The massive open armed Jesus looking down on the 2 million plus inhabitants of Cali; and

3        The three Crosses at the top one of the hills that lit up the night sky.

We were unable to visit Jesus, as he resided on top of a hill that was inhabited, by what my friends termed “dangerous people”. Given Cali’s notorious history I asked no further questions and figured they needed him more than we did anyway. We did however, venture to the three crosses at “El Cerro de la Tres Cruzs” (the Hill of the Three Crosses). When dressing for the occasion, Samir tells me, “it’s an hour long walk, so wear sunblock and bring a hat.” I stress here the words “hour” and “walk”. Maybe that would be an accurate description if we were all mountain goats!

Our view of the City from the mid-way point

Despite climbing cliff face and stopping every few hundred times to stuff my lungs back down my throat, it was truly an incredible experience. As we got further and further up the “hill”, the air got cooler. The view of Cali’s city from the mid way point was truly spectacular. The make-up of the city was such that from the foothills of the mountains, the city spread out like pooling water and then stopped in a very clear line. Looking up at the mountains however, the houses ascended like little ants and did not stop at any one particular point. You heard what seemed like every sound from the city, but yet you felt remote and removed, truly an observer.

Surprisingly the view at the top is less spectacular than from the mid way point, as there are a lot of trees and power lines that block the view. However, whilst at the top, we learn the fable of the hill. The old city of Cali was much smaller than its present two million population, and was situated initially at the very foothills of the mountain. The fable goes that demon spirits from the neighboring valley would descend on the Calais and torment them. The three crosses were erected at the top of the hill to prevent the demons from crossing into their valley and to protect the city.

The top of the “cerro” is complete with concrete pews and a tent for the faithful. For the mountain goats, there are some sturdy concrete dumbbells and barbells complete with a workout bench!

La Iglesia de la Merced

We venture to downtown to a Church that Samir is convinced that we would really appreciate. It is a very beautiful Church and to my surprise it has a very similar history to a lot of the temples in Trinidad. This La Iglesia de la Merced (the Church of Mercy) is made of mud! Much like the temples of old in Trinidad which were made of mud, the walls were smoothed over with cow manure and then painted.

The church is well preserved and well used. As we make our way into the hallowed hall, I am not captured by the impressive intricate and golden gilded alter, nor the incredibly high roof. I am in fact immediately drawn to an alcove in a side wall where a bound and beaten Jesus quietly resides. The craftsmanship on the figure is impeccable. I have trouble figuring out my aperture and shutter speed settings in the dim lighting and spend several minutes positioning myself and reviewing my pictures in the LCD screen.  I almost drop the camera in shock (I hope my husband is not reading this part) when I quickly scan my screen and found the image staring back at me to be too lifelike. Frustrated that I feel my photography skills cannot do this justice to this creation, I sit close by and try to embed the image into my memory. It is then that I notice His toes.

He has been carved out of wood, and the only reason I can tell is that the faithful touch his feet. His feet have been touched so many times that the finishing and paint on His toes have been worn away. However, even the exposed raw wood which is revealed is smooth, signaling that even the raw wood has been sanded down by the frequency with which His feet are touched.  

The Big Adventure: San Cipriano

Six am is never a good idea in my mind. So when we pack our sleepy heads into the car for the four hour drive, I quickly assume a sleep position and ready myself to at least catch a cat-nap. Our gracious hosts begrudge us nothing and bribe us with the promise of a lovely breakfast along the way.

I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to. The ever increasing view of the extensive mountain range as we moved away from the city enthralls me. I have never seen vegetation so thick and massive and I shoot question after question at Luzma and Samir. As we get higher up the mountain, the cold air nips at my bare legs and through my chiffon throw-over. As we stop for breakfast, I am a real sight! Bed-hair, ‘don’t talk to me’ shades, shorts, sneakers and wrapped in a massive wooly shawl covering the top half of my body. Ever freezing, even in my office in Trini, Edward shakes his head at the sight of me and jokingly tugs at my shawl which earns him a snarl of “Don’t you dare!” Expecting the snarl he laughs and throws his arms around me and shuffles me indoors.

The breakfast stop was as enchanting as my friends had promised. The wooden log cabin in the mountains, on the edge of a gently sloping hill was a delight, with its bird feeders bringing in humming birds and other tiny winged- creatures, and the tame macaw and parrots in the well groomed sloping compound. After a very hearty breakfast of arepas, eggs, local cheese, hot chocolates, teas and coffees, we set off, this time with a much more pleasant and sociable Shalini!

The might of the mountains keep me entertained for the rest of our drive whilst Luzma and Samir sing along to the collection of favorite songs. Throughout our journey there were patches of extensive road works and retention work on the mountain slopes. The machinery, which I know to be some of the biggest in existence, paled in comparison to the mountain slopes.

Some time much later, we arrive at the turnoff to the San Cipriano village. As we turn into the street leading to the village, the compact Twingo is suddenly mobbed by at least 10 very large men, all trying to hustle us for a tour. I am immediately shaken out of my lazy, relaxed mood and become wary that they could easily topple our little car. As I am panicingly saying to Samir, “What is this?” the concern suddenly vanishes from his face, he smiles, points and says “there she is!” I kid you not when I say, it was a scene out of a movie!

Blazing up the hill on a dirt bike, was a strongly built woman with dark chocolate brown skin and finely braided shoulder length hair. She drove her dirt bike straight toward the men mobbing us at the car, and then at the last minute, spun her back tire toward them and turned the bike around. The men scatter. She signals to Samir to follow her, and she takes us into the village. My husband disbelieving the scene that has just unfolded, is in hysterics of laughter and bellowing, “I like her!” The excitement takes it root and we are all laughing as we tumble out of the car.

Our friends had given us a very brief description of what today’s adventure entailed, but left it very sketchy as they wanted us to have no expectations of what was about the transpire. Even if they had told me in every bit of detail, I still would not have expected what I saw next.

There is a train track that runs through the village of San Cipriano. The locals have made quite a tourist attraction by building a sort of jerry-rigged taxi from the main village to the bathing pools of the San Cipriano River. Motor bikes have been strapped onto wooden crates with benches. This contraption is then lined up on the train tracks. The motor bike’s back wheel acts as the propulsion, and the wooden crate has metal concave wheels which fit onto the other side of the track. This contraptions were called "Brujitas" which translates to 'Little Witch"!

No seat belts, no harnesses and an awful “CRA-TAC CRA-TAC!!” every time we pass over one of the joins    in the train track! I am gripping onto the wooden bench with one hand and digging into Edward’s chest with the other as I sit behind him. I’m not sure if I’m making sure he doesn't fall off, or making sure I don’t fall off, but even logic at this stage couldn't loosen my grip. Luzma and Samir are naughtily giggling at my fearful stupor and I would have laughed at myself, save for the lump in my throat as we hurtled along the track!

Oh! Did I mention that the train track is still used by the train!!? Apparently we would have to scamper off the tracks if the train was spotted! Luckily, the only time we were forced off the tracks was when another motor bike taxi came from the opposite direction. There would then be a stand-off as to who should get off the tracks. We quickly learnt that if the taxi was carrying fuel, he had right of way. Other than that, the taxi that had the most passengers was given priority. This was determined by an animated exchange between the motor bike operators, and the older boys tried flexing seniority on the young operators.

When we arrive at the bathing pools and I regain my composure, we walk through the little village, which is made up of homes and people selling a variety of local foods. The smells are delicious!

Thinking that our main harrows were over, we walk for a while enjoying the flora and fauna and decide on the third pool for a little swimming. The boys wander off to practice their diving and spot fishes, while Luzma and I catch up on some girl talk. There is light rain which feels refreshing in the cool hills and we pay it no mind.

Our dreamy little bubble is suddenly popped when a man in a bright orange t-shirt pops out of the heavy greenery and yells at us in fast Spanish. I don’t understand a word, but Samir scampers to us and says that the river is raising rapidly and we need to cross back to the shore quickly. However, as we pick our way back across the stony bank, the crossing point has already risen quite a bit and the currents are very strong.

Edward manages to swim across with our bags, but as Luzma, Samir and I hold hands and try to maneuver the roaring currents, it becomes very clear as we are swept away each time that we can’t cross. The once cool rain is now cold, and the river level is quickly rising, so much so that every few minutes we have to step back on the river bank. The same man in the bright orange t-shirt reappears, and on seeing us trapped with a few other people, he slaps his leg and exclaims in Spanish again. Samir translates “I thought I told you to cross over?!” Samir shouts an explanation that we couldn’t maneuver the currents. He mutters crossly and disappears into the foliage again.

There we are, cold wet and trapped. Edward is sitting on the other side of the river with a few others who made it over in time. No sound to be heard but the roaring river between us.

The orange man re-appears, this time with several other orange-ies. What happens next is clearly a well practiced and organized exercise. A very muscular chocolate colored man plunges into the roaring river and swims strongly over to us with a very large ring inflatable. He makes it look like it’s a walk in the park for him. The only give away as to his effort , is his heavily flaring nostrils as he walks up to us on the bank. He puts Luzma to sit in the ring and he threads one arm through the ring. With the same gusto, he plunges back into the roaring river and swims across to a line of men and women holding hands on the other side of the bank to form a line that comes a quarter of the way into the river. The last link of the line grabs Luzma in the ring and she squeals with laughter as she is over to safety!!

Another very muscular chocolate colored man, a mini-me version of the first rescuer, as he is slightly smaller, then plunges in with another inflatable and makes his way over to us. He is giving me instructions when he arrives and I absent-mindedly think, “Damn! I hope mini-me is as strong as the first!” After threading his arm through my ring, he plunges in, I am close to him and hear the effort in his breathing and he puts strong determined strokes in the roaring currents. He has to swing me in the inflatable across from one arm to the other as the current keeps changing directions and the inflatable pushes against his efforts. With slightly less grace than the first rescuer, Mini-me gets me safely across to the link of arms on the bank. I thank him with every ounce of appreciation in my body.

The exercise is repeated for Samir and the few others trapped. Everyone is brought safely over. Edward has also caught it all on video. Once we are all safe on the bank, there is euphoria in the group and all of the rescuers eagerly give Edward their email addresses as they would like a copy of their truly heroic efforts. We are truly grateful for the efforts of the San Cipriano Rescue Team.

On our way back we mount our Brujitas. This time, I embrace my Brujita and I am fits of laughs and giggles. As we hurtle through the greenery, Luzma, Samir, Edward and I, our souls lit up with adrenaline and adventure,  are all arms up in the air, howling at the fading blue sky our signature doggy howl “OWH-HOW HOWWWW!”

Our Colombian Family

My time with them never fails to be my greatest memories. Till we meet again! S x

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