Cartagena - The Enduring Jewel

Cartagena, Colombia – The Enduring Jewel

In South America, travelers hike the busy streets of the various cities clutching tightly to their preferred brand of travel guide.  The books they so dearly adhere to describe Cartagena de Indias, found on Colombia’s portion of the Caribbean coast, in verbiage such as “nostalgic,” “charming,” and “romantic.”  And the truth is, to have endured through so much, and in such a dignified fashion, is in itself somewhat of an achievement.  However, when arriving in Cartagena by boat or plane or bus the hoards of travellers that reach the colonial city on their pilgrimages realize that there is much more going on in this city than their precious travel bibles have led them to believe.

Travellers step off of their particular mode of transportation and into a thick wall of hot humid Caribbean air.  As their eyes wander across the horizon, they expect to see a city of Caribbean colours and proud colonial buildings.  What they are confronted with instead is a vast jungle of concrete, steel and glass.  In Cartagena, huge high-rise skyscrapers stand watch over the various inland waterways that divide the city’s territory.  To truly appreciate Colombia’s crown jewel one must use their most youthful skills of curious exploration.  It also requires a sense of imagination that will allow you to romanticize the days when this town was occupied by horse carts and finely dressed members of the European Elite, rather than the bright yellow taxis and flip-flop and khaki-clad tourist that now occupy most of the city’s urban core.

Other than Santa Marta, which sits about 4 hours north up the coast, Cartagena is the oldest surviving city on the South American continent.  The city was established as a sea port, and as a base from which to launch South American explorations, in 1533, two years before the conquest wars were won by the Spanish against the Inca in the Central Andes.  Cartagena quickly became the most important port in South America.  It was here that the Spanish held its wealth of gold and silver exploited from the continent and its people.  The various treasures sat in the noble city in seaside fortresses waiting to be shipped across the ocean on Spanish Galleons.

Of course the treasures held by Cartagena made it a literal gold mine for pillaging pirates.  And it was here, in the Caribbean, that many of various European proxy wars were fought via free-wheeling privateers; those characters of which are known to us only in the form of actors in our stories.  After a number of coastal attacks, including the most devastating assault, one by Sir Francis Drake in 1586, Cartagena erected a series of sturdy cement walls and a solid concrete fort to protect it from further peril.  Although they did not reduce the bull’s eye that was seemingly laid on top of this city, the robust walls still protect Cartagena’s old city today.

During the era of Spanish Colonial rule, in Latin America, Cartagena often served as the seat for the country’s vice-regency.  But despite the city’s ties to the colonial network it developed into a region known for its elaborate sense of independence and its highly developed and complex local politics.  Cartagena was a prime fixture in the push for independence from the Spanish as well.  The city, often described at the time as the most beautiful in the “New World,” was often pummelled to the ground by the various insurgencies and counter-insurgencies during the period of Simon Bolivar’s independence wars.

As the various news outlets seem to constantly remind us, Colombia has been a center of devastating and long fought out civil wars.  Although a hub to many of these conflicts in the early days of independence, Cartagena has recently become somewhat of a safe haven to the long drawn out civil conflicts that have riddled the region. Despite a single truck bomb set off by Pablo Escobar’s Extraditables in the late 1980s the city has been left untouched by the recent years of terror, violence and destruction. 

The city has also been one of great cultural and ethnic diversity.  Whether it was in the early 1800s, where the population was split between well-to-do Europeans and children of African descendants who were brought in to work on one of the many sugar plantation in the region, or today where strolling the main streets can leave you deep in conversation with a dreadlocked Rasta or a well dressed member of the local business elite and, well, just about any other type in between.  As a result of its “safe zone” status the city has recently enticed people from all over the country to migrate to the city in search of a more peaceful life.  This, of course, has only increased its level of social and cultural diversity.  The sound of Castellano Spanish is often mixed with the colourful flavour of Caribbean slang which gives the city a unique cultural attitude.

Today, the city of Cartagena is divided into numerous distinctively different districts.  The most notable of these districts are the two main tourist zones Boca Grande and El Centro.  Boca Grande acts as the city’s modern Zona Rosa and lines most of Cartagena’s long, dark sanded coastline with all-inclusive resorts and high-rise condos.  It is here, in Boca Grande, where the usual chaotic street side vendors, that dominate most Latin American street sides, are replaced by air conditioned boutiques and high-end retail stores.  The typical juice stalls and small fast-food fried chicken joints give way to MacDonald’s and Pizza Hut.  Boca Grande, in reality, could be anywhere in the world.  However, despite its overall lack independent character, it can act as a nice reprieve to the weary backpackers and travelers worn down by the sometimes hectic nature of life in Latin America.

El Centro, Cartagena’s “Old Town” provides a sharp contrast to the modern tourist district of Boca Grande.  El Centro may be one of the most charming places in all of South America.  It has all the vibe of New Orleans with the peace and charisma of a small Spanish village.  Its narrow cobbled streets and colourful colonial buildings might leave you wondering if you’ve stepped back 400 years if it wasn’t for the yellow taxi cabs that wiz up and down the calles.  This city was once known as one of the most romantic places in the World; and one look at all its vicariously hanging balconies and bright churches will leave you without a doubt as to why. 

The buildings of El Centro are thickly coated in full colours of blue, yellow, and pink, as they fight to hide the effects of pounding tropical rains and humid salty sea air.  However, in somewhat of a hybrid fashion, the buildings are designed in an architecture more reminiscent of 17^th century Spain.  Their tall white pillars and oversized front doors describe a proud and inviting style.  The balconies that overlook the narrow streets leave visitors yearning for a period in human history where people actually took the time to stand out on these street side box seats and watch the world as it passes us by.

The canon-lined stone walls that used to protect the city from invaders now, less dramatically, shield it from the crashing Caribbean Sea waves.  The barrier provides a raised walkway which is one of the best ways to truly enjoy the city and the sea.  It really is one of those special places that can leave you at a standstill sucking in a deep breath as if you were hoping that you could breathe in the atmosphere and keep it with you forever.  It is for this moment of awe, this great sensation, that the countless number of bourgeoning travelers endure painfully bumpy bus rides, long flights, and rough seas.

In general, negative news reports and horror stories have long since cast a dreary shadow on Colombia.  Through the numerous times of hardship, war and violence Cartagena has not only managed to maintain its charm, character, and dignity, but has managed to build on it as well.  As Colombia is most known for its emeralds, violence and cocaine, Cartagena may be the country’s brightest gem, and its most valuable treasure.  It would be a mistake to leave this city, or country for that matter, off of your travel map, as it only seems only to continue to grow in character as it begins to come out of years of strife.  Much like a diamond, Cartagena de Indias seems to have emerged from a lifetime of great pressure, and subsequent resistance, into a brilliant precious jewel.

Cartagena, Colombia - Buses in South America – To Look or not to Look

 Cartagena, Colombia - Buses in South America – To Look or not to Look

I stepped off of my plane into the wall humid Caribbean air confronted by a familiar understanding regarding the leg of my journey.  I knew I was going to have to take another Latin American bus!  In South America, it seems like on every single bus journey you’re putting your life into the hands of stock car racers who haven’t been told that it’s a bus they’re now driving.  On the steep-edged, sharp mountain curves one often hears the questionable rumble of the pressure to the driver’s gas pedal, the result of which would test even a astronaut’s G-force tolerance levels.  Bags on the ground and objects in the overheads are often launched across the bus in the seemingly gravity-free environment created by the twisting bus.  The locals, quite used to the situation, carelessly continue reading the latest futbol news or bouncing their unseated, unbuckled kids on their laps.  Speed limits, it seems, are more of a recommendation, as drivers appear to have no issue passing police officers at top speed.

The bus journey, however, that I was about to embark on to Colombia’s coastal treasure Cartagena, didn’t seem to have the makings of a death road experience.  The trip was only meant to take about two hours along a paved highway. 

I climbed onto the bus with the usual two options: to look or not to look.  The option of looking seats you comfortably at the front of the bus with full views of the highway, for better or worse.  This option keeps you away from the bumps of the back of the bus that haven’t truly been enjoyed by anyone older than middle school.  It also keeps you away from the oft-wretched smelling toilets of the back of the bus.  It seems that no one told bus designers, that if you put a toilet above the heat of an overworked engine the cooking process would not have the greatest affect.

Based on a couple quick assumptions, the bus journey was short, so no one would use the toilet, and it was paved, so there wouldn’t be too many bumps, I headed to the back of the bus in order to avoid the terror of being able to watch how many near misses our driver could rack up.

As the trip progressed down the winding paved highway I quickly realized that I had made the wrong decision.  It seemed as though a fellow traveler was having quite the battle against a common Latin American travel foe: Montezuma’s revenge.  A fight of which, according to the aromatic evidence, he was losing.  Moreover, the driver seemed to have no true regard for the massive speed bumps that lay all over Latin American secondary highways.  With each bump first came a hard slam on the breaks in advance of contact, sending our strained faces into the back of the seats in front of us.  This was followed by the bump at the front wheels and then a heavy foot to the gas pedal.  By the time the concrete lump reached the back tires we were travelling near full speed.  The force of the contact would send me a couple feet into the air, and the Ipod that was resting on my lap into the ceiling.  The back of the bus had all the makings of a bad rodeo, smell and feel.

About an hour into the trip I decided to make the switch to somewhere in the middle of the bus, certain that I never wanted to make another bus trip in my life, and wondering whether, based on this driver’s skill, I would have a choice.  After many near misses, and countless number of ongoing/outgoing passengers resting their backsides on my shoulder, I made it to my destination of Cartagena de Indias.

Other than Santa Marta, which sits about 4 hours north up the coast, Cartagena is the oldest surviving city on South American Continent.  It was established as a sea port in 1533, two years before the conquest wars were won by the Spanish against the Inca in the Andes of South America.  It quickly became the most important port in South America, because it was here that the Spanish held its gold and silver exploited from the continent and its people.  The treasures sat in the noble city in forts waiting to be shipped across the ocean on Spanish Galleons.

Of course the treasures held by Cartagena made it a literal gold mine for pillaging pirates and privateers.  After a number of attacks, including the most devastating assault, one by Sir Francis Drake in 1586, Cartagena erected a series of sturdy cement walls and a solid concrete fort to protect it from further peril.  These robust walls still protect Cartagena’s old city today. 

Throughout the many civil wars in Colombia, Cartagena has remained a safe haven.  And despite a single truck bomb set off by Pablo Escobar’s Extraditables the city has been left untouched by the years of violence and destruction.  It is a city of vast cultural diversity as well.  The sound of Castelllano Spanish is often mixed with the colourful flavour of Caribbean slang which gives the city a unique cultural attitude.

Today the city is divided into numerous distinctively different districts.  The most notable of these districts are the is the colonial center of El Centro.  The old Town provides a sharp contrast to modern tourist district of Boca Grande.  El Centro may be one of the most charming places in all of South America.  It has all the vibe of New Orleans with the peace and charisma of a small Spanish village.  Its narrow cobbled streets and colourful colonial buildings might leave you wondering if you’ve stepped back 400 years if it wasn’t for the yellow taxi cabs that wiz up and down the calles.  This city was once known as one of the most romantic places in the New World; and one look at all its vicariously hanging balconies and bright churches will leave you without a doubt as to why.  The stone walls that used to protect the city from pirates now shield the city from the crashing Caribbean Sea waves.  The barrier provides a raised walkway one of the best ways to truly enjoying the city and the sea.  It is really one of those places that can leave you at a standstill sucking in a deep breath as if you were hoping that you could breathe in the atmosphere and keep it with you forever.

As I leave Cartagena, by bus, I look out my window and I see city of a charm, a history, and a character that is only describable to the people who have visited it.  Its value isn’t measurable, and its charm can not be described by words or even pictures, but by feel and feel alone.  As I take my seat in the middle of the bus, the driver closes the swing arm door at the front I realize that if my next destination offers even half of what Cartagena gave, it will be worth all the bumps, bruises and anxiety of this next bus journey.

Vacationing with your Foreign Girlfriend's Family – aka Trial by Fire

     Learning a language is difficult in the best of times.  One’s head fills itself with words and sounds; some of which are correct and others which are just that: sound.  This challenge is ever the more exacerbated in times of stress.  I just spent the past four days in San Andres, Colombia putting myself through the truest of tests; the foreign family vacation.

            I forget sometimes how short a time it has been since I’ve been speaking Spanish.  Yes I took a couple university courses in Spanish, and vacationed/studied a little bit in Central America, but it really has only been about a half a year where I’ve really put myself through the stresses of learning the language.  I’ve gotten to the point that when my mouth opens or I type on the computer the first words that spill out, for better or for worse, are in Spanish.

            I understand things well, when one person is talking to me. However, when pushed, and I have an excited family of Peruvians laughing and chanting at the same time I might as well be listening to a chirping pack of hyenas as they devour their prey.  I must, to others around, look like I’m having a seizure as I try to twist and turn my head to catch as much of the action as I can.  There are times where everything is clear as a bell.  And then you have set backs, like when you’re proud that you finally had a dream in Spanish, and then you wake up only to realize that you don’t think you understood a word in your dream.

            Each language, too, has its dialects and each person idiosyncrasies in their speech.  Some people speak with a mumble, and others speak at the speed of a machine gun with a jammed trigger.  In language, simple stresses on different letter could be the difference between ordering chicken or a prostitute.  And a simple one letter switch could leave you confused for two or three days.  For example, when toasting me with a “salud” my girlfriend’s dad would toss me a “socio” meaning “partner” or “buddy.”  But for the first three days of my Caribbean vacation I thought he was calling me “sucio” meaning dirty.  And to be quite honest, I wasn’t sure I knew how to take that from the father of my Peruvian girlfriend.

            San Andres itself reflex a similar image to that of many of the other Caribbean Islands.  It offers white sea shell beaches, clear turquoise blue waters, and a variety of water related activities.  Its buildings are thickly coated in full colours of blue, yellow, and pink, as they fight to hide the effects of pounding tropical rains and humid salty sea air.  Its history brags of a colonial past where pirates made refuge and proxy wars were fought via free-wheeling privateers.

            But like many of the Caribbean Islands, there are two different sides to the San Andres coin.  There is the afore-described San Andres that the bourgeoning Colombian, Peruvian, and Argentinean tourists see.  It’s here where the grinning white teeth welcome the herds of tourists with saying of “no worries” as they lead them off to their all-inclusive, or should we say all-protected, resorts.  While in the towns and back streets people live in hurricane ravaged houses and people live in constant threat of violence.  At night, while the tourist sit locked in their resorts, the streets just blocks away are riddled with strife.

            The resorts too can themselves be descriptors of the social/racial hierarchy that persists in Latin America.  Upon arrival to the resort, my first spoken thought to my girlfriend was “wow, there’s a lot of gringos (a term once used for Americans, but now for all western people) here!”  As I started to explore a little bit more I started to realize that all the “gringos” were speaking crystal clear Spanish.  In the age of Spanish Colonial Rule there was a strictly adhered to racial hierarchy.  Peninsulares (those born in Spain) were the top dogs followed by Criolles (pure bread Europeans born in the ’New World”, then it was the Mestizos and Mulattos (those of mixed European and Indigenous or Spanish blood), the Blacks, and finally the Indigenous people.  Today most disregard that racial divide as a thing of the past, but it really does only take a foreign eye in a Latin America shopping mall or an all-inclusive resort to see that it is, still to this day, the white people that have all the money.  The racial divide is still alive and well, even if we don’t want to talk about a subject that seems to have become off limits.

            As I’ve settled myself into my foreign family vacation I start realizing how good at faking it I’ve become.  I’ve learned quite quickly that the tone of someone’s speech can describe what type of avoidance response should follow.  The stress of a sentence offers me clues of whether I should pass on a si, a “claro (of course)” or a “no, que pena (too bad)” or if the sentence requires a more constructive response.  The goal for the uncomfortable is avoid strict engagement, but yet not to appear to be a mute.

In any case, as the foreign family vacation proceeds and the typical ‘in-law’ family tensions begin to fade, we all start to realize that regardless of place of birth or language good people are good people.  And it doesn’t take an exchange of verbal language to describe that.

Coming up…

-          Buses in South America “To Look or Not to Look?”

-          The sleeping backpacker

-          Tourism: The Cultural Clash