I'm On A Boat

Coincidentally, all of my vacations this past year have been to coastal areas where swimwear was required attire.  From the jungle area of the Chocó to the Caribbean island of San Andrés to the coastal desert department of La Guajira, I figured it didn't make sense to break from tradition.  The week following the end of school I packed my board shorts and headed with a small group of teachers and some of their visiting friends on a kayaking adventure along the Pacific coast.

Departing from the only large urban area on the Pacific coast, the port city of Buenaventura, we took a fiberglass lancha to the small fishing community of Juanchaco, which served as our base camp for the next three days.  Our guide, Julio, runs his own ecotourism business and trips like this are his life, so we were in good hands.

Admiring the orchids.

Over the next three days we enjoyed mostly sunny weather - unusual for the Pacific coast, which is one of the wettest places on the planet - with visits to the small islands off the mainland, some caves, secluded beaches, an estuary, and river going into the jungle.  We saw bats fluttering about in caves, crabs scrambling over wave-swept rocks, pelicans roosting in trees, and blue-footed boobies perched precariously on cliff ledges.  Julio also was fond of pointing out all kinds of species of orchids, which happens to be Colombia's national flower.

Boobies!

Ocean kayaking is strenuous, especially when your fighting the current or getting nauseous from large sea swells.  Despite the sore shoulders, near-blistered hands, chaffed butt, and one capsizing, nothing can compete with the stunning beauty of this region, especially sections only accessible by small boat.  With Julio's expertise, I will definitely be doing this trip again!

Deserted

Since the moment I first watched the music video which ran concurrently with Colombia's tourism campaign "Colombia es Pasion" almost four years ago I have wanted to visit the desertscape where it was filmed.  

Visiting the La Guajira region of Colombia takes some added time and effort however, as it is located in the northeastern-most part of the country, wedged between the Caribbean Sea and Venezuela.  La Guajira is also a gigantic desert and, possibly because of this fact, has little in the form of tourist infrastructure.  Better put: with poor roads and no mass transit system to speak of, it becomes exponentially more difficult to get around without your own vehicle.  Also, being situated in literally the opposite corner of the country from Cali, an extended vacation period is necessary to properly explore the area.

Los flamencos al Santuario

This Semana Santa (Holy Week/Spring Break) I decided to finally put a check mark in this travel box and spend a week in the desert.  Along with my friends Sam and Mandi we split our time between touring the unique features, cultures, and industry the land has to offer with a pre-arranged tour guide, and relaxing on the beautiful turquoise-watered beaches.

Our cabaña

Our tour began with a visit and overnight slay at El Santuario Flora y Fauna Los Flamencos, a nature reserve for thousands of flamingos, as well as a sea turtle rehabilitation center.  We stayed in a tiny cabin on an equally tiny island, complete with bats nesting in the eaves.  While they didn't enter the room, there was considerable chirping and rustling all night long and much guano on the porch come morning.  In this protected area, as is common in many protected wilderness areas of North America, are found one of the oldest native peoples in this region, the Wayuu (say "why-JEW").

All throughout the week we often heard people speaking Wayuunaiki and, aside from fishing and raising goats, the Wayuu people depend of the tourism industry to sell their one-of-a-kind brightly colored mochillas (shoulder bags) and woven bracelets.  While visiting one particular plan, or settlement, we were shown how they build their houses, discussed what the traditional family structure is like and how it has changed over the years, as well tasted some of their canela-fermented alcohol.  The girls were also given the opportunity to dress in one of the scarlet red fabric-filled ceremonial dresses used at many Wayuu festivals - difficult to put on in the ever-present desert wind.

A Wayuu girl displaying the ceremonial red dress.

Attempting amusement at the
coal mine. (Despite the safety
presumption, there was absolutely
no need for the hats and glasses
whatsoever.  None.)

The next day we toured north, past the largest city in the region, Riohacha, to visit a major source of employment and economy - the Cerrejón coal mine.  While the tour was militantly organized and moderately interesting, I'm not sure it was worth the two hours in entailed to essentially look at am impressively large hole in the ground and listen to a lot of propaganda about how environmentally friendly this coal mine is, regardless of its veracity.  

After a brief lunch stop in Uribia, the "indigenous capital of Colombia," we passed through the municipality of Manaure to see the salt flats which are used in the production of much of Colombia's salt business.  Essentially pumping sea water into these flat basins and allowing the water to then evaporate, leaving behind only rocks of salt crystals, the mineral is somehow "washed" numerous times and ends up in what, from a distance, look like the towering heaps of snow found at the end of a Target store's parking lot after the plows have cleared it following a blizzard.

Continuing northward, driving down what amounted to a dirt highway which ran parallel to the railroad tracks built solely to connect the aforementioned coal mine to the La Guajira's only port, Puerto Bolívar, we suddenly cut left down a small trail through a cactus grove composed of nothing more than deep tire grooves.  Shortly thereafter we emerged in the flattest expanse of non-water I've ever seen.  This "seasonal desert" was dry, cracked, a flat as a ruler.  During the winter months it floods from the sea and is impassable, but now, much like arctic truckers crossing the ice and snow on spontaneous roads, so was this short-cut.

Since we didn't have to take the highway the long way around we reached the poster city of Cabo de la Vela, a remote picturesque fishing community, with daylight to spare.  Set in a bay of sorts, the immediate area is perfect for kite-surfing and not far away is gorgeous beach, tucked down between the rocky desert cliffs that meet the Caribbean.  This is obviously where we spent a considerable amount of time the next day.  This is also where I got a considerable sunburn on my stomach and shoulder blade areas, as well as my shins and tops of my feet; a former beach life guard should know better.

The classic Cabo de la Vela shot - Spanish for "Cape of the Sail."

Back in Riohacha we enjoyed the fact that our hotel was the essentially the best lodging option in the entire city, though is would barely be able to compete with a roadside Motel 8 in Florida as far as construction and amenities go.  We were, however, given complimentary tented shade on the beach in front, as well as served lunch under said tent complete with wooden table, table cloth, and bow-tied smiling waiter.  Shrimp rice, grilled goat, and sangria never tasted so good!

Plaza in Riohacha

In the evenings we would usually walk along the malecón, or boardwalk, between the beach and the Avenida del Mar, sifting through and admiring the plethora of Wayuu-crafted mochillas littering the sidewalk.  Some are patterned, most are colorful, but they are all unique and different.  Together we purchased six bags, as well as a few other local handicrafts.  (After four years of living here and traveling throughout Latin America, you start to see many of the same artisanal wares, but these were unique and different, making coming to La Guajira a great shopping destination as well.)

Our final full day of vacation we headed to a beach about half an hour's taxi ride north of Riohacha called Mayapo, which we found out about from a friendly cab driver who offered to shuttle us there and back for USD $30.  Mayapo turned out to be the place to be, filled with families and tourists alike, all enjoying the start to the long holiday weekend, the white sand beach, the steady ever-present breeze, and multi-hued blue of the sea.  

Mandi and me amidst the sea of Wayuu-made mochillas.

Going to La Guajira was like traveling to another world apart from Colobmia.  Between the arid landscape, the abundance of sea food, lack of many of the fresh fruits we have become spoiled by, wandering goats, and slow drivers who actually stop for and yield to pedestrians, La Guajira full-filled my every expectation.  Visually stunning in its own way, peaceful and understated, I hope to be able to return one day and discover more of its desert's secrets.

Heladeros (ice cream vendors) on the beach.

I "Sea" Your True Colors

Thanksgiving is a time to be grateful.  I am grateful for many things - family, friends, my job, health, etc. - but I found one more to add to the list.  The beautiful island of San Andrés.  For Thanksgiving Break a small group of us hopped on a plane and headed for the tiny patch of land 12 km long and 3 km wide (at its greatest point) closer to the mainland of Nicaragua than to Colombia, for a few glorious days of white sand beaches, crystal-clear waters, and general relaxation.

Normally, as evidenced by the travels documented in this blog, I prefer to explore, discover, and generally fend for myself on my adventures.  We opted this time for exactly the opposite - an all-inclusive stay at the Decameron San Luis.  I may have been converted in the ways of vacation travel.

Despite it's small size, there is much to do on this Caribbean island other than lounging on the beaches looking out at the famous "siete colores del mar" or the fact that the ocean appears to have seven colors, all of them stunning variants of blue.  The easiest way to see these sights is to find a way to travel around the island at your leissure.  Golf carts, scooters, and bikes are all available for rent in the largest settlement, San Andres City, at the northernmost end of the island.  We opted for the latter, mosltly as a way to fend off all the extra calories we were allowing ourselves with three square buffet meals each day.

Swimmin' with the fishes!

While circling the island we stopped at a place known as La Piscinita ("the small pool"), a tiny cliff-shaded cove teeming with tropical fish.  Now, one can assume that these fish were once here on their own accord, however, they congregate now for the chance to eat the pieces of bread tourists are given when they pay their US .50 cent entrance fee.  Fortunately, the fish are only interested in you when you still pocess bread and quietly ignore your presence when you are out.

Getting drenched at the blow-hole.

At the southernmost tip of the island is El Hoyo Soplador (the Hoyo blow-hole), a geiser created by a small channel carved into the volcanic rock reaching out to the crashing surf.  This blow-hole mostly just hisses and mists water with impressive force, however, every once and a while it shoots water two meters into the air, drenching anyone standing near, including yours truely.

Dotted around the the northern and eastern sides of the island are several smaller plots of land.  These smaller islands, or cays, are alos popular as day-trips for tourist who want another option for a beach.  We visited Rocky Cay on afternoon, unique in that a sandbar makes it possible to reach the islet on foot without fear of wetting one hair on your head.  This shallowness was not a friend, however, to the shipwrecked boat moored just off the shores of the cay.

There is plenty more to do on this island, including visiting a Baptist church in the settlement of La Loma on the top of the island, built in Alabama and contructed on the island.  (Unlike most of Colombia, most San Andres residents identify themselves as Baptist.)  Not to mention other snorkeling opportunities, Captain Morgan's cave, and visits to the other cays not within walking distance.

I guess this just means I'll have to go back...you tell me if I'll have company or not.

The Song of the Sea

Many people often find Cali on a map and comment that I'm "pretty close to the Pacific."  This is both true and misleading.  Cali is close to the Pacific as the crow flies and relatively close - about three hours - by mini-bus.  However, if its a beach you're looking for, you'll be hard-pressed to find the white sands and sun-soaked umbrella-filled beaches of your southern-California dreams.  The entire western coast of Colombia is largely virginal tropical forest, dotted with a few small predominantly Afro-Colombian fishing communities.  The beaches are mostly black sand and it is almost guaranteed to rain at least part of every day, if not the majority.  The western coast of Colombia is one of the wettest places on Earth.

I've traveled here before, during my first year's Thanksgiving break I got to explore the port city of Buenaventura and take a boat north to the towns of Juanchaco and Ladrilleros but I haven't been back since.  This last weekend a few of us decided to explore the northern part of the Pacific coast, a region famous for its pristine beauty and secluded nature, called Chocó.  From Medellín we hoped on a small 18-seater prop-plane for an hour flight to the coast.  (You know its a small plane when the pilot hands you earplugs as you climb the steps.)  Watching the terrain change and the towns and roads below disappear as we approached the coast was exciting.


We landed outside the town of Bahía Solano and were met by a man who would drive us the rest of the way to the (unicorporated) village of El Valle.  (Good luck finding it labeled on a map.)  The road was terrible at beat and if not for the primitive power and experience of the "wooden" vehicle we were jammed into, along with crates of eggs and bags of fish, I'm not sure how we ever got trough the pot-holed muddy road.  Once in El Valle we were taken to our cabaña which was within sight and sound of the crashing waves.

For the next few days we enjoyed the warm climate, relaxed culture, warm and friendly people, and delicious Pacifico cuisine.  I, however, enjoyed the inside of my mosquito-netted bed after developing what was later diagnosed as a tonsil infection which caused me to throw up everything I ate for two days.  It's never fun being sick while on vacation but at least I had the sound of the waves crashing on the shore and the rain on the roof to lull me to sleep.

One of my colleagues, Tara, had a friend visiting from California.  He brought along his fancy water-proof, bulldozer-proof camera and made this video of our trip.  It pretty much sums up all the sights and sounds of the typical coastal community in Chocó.  Note my conspicuous absence from most of the "field trips":



The music is by a Colombian group called Chocquibtown, taking their name from both the department (state) of Chocó and the department's capital Quibdo.  The lead song is called "Somos Pacifico" ("We Are From the Pacific Region") and celebrates being from Chocó.  In the chorus are the words "...la pinta, la raza, y el don del sabor!"  Translated, this phrase is singing the praises that the colors and race of Chocó are what give it its flavor.  This could easily be the anthem of this unique region.

Somos Pacífico

There is a song by a Colombian hip-hop group, ChocQuibTown, that sings the praises of being from the Pacific coast of Colombia. The chorus of their hit single "Somos Pacífico" says "We are of the Pacific. We are united. The region unites us. The color, the race, and the gift of flavor."

This tune became the theme song for the 9th grade week-long class trip to Isla Gorgona this past week. Unfortunately, compared to the trip two years ago with the class of 2011, this group wasn't as unified as the song would hope them to be. Not to say the trip was a bust by any means. Most of the kids, I think, had a great time. However, an unusual and disproportionate number of students found many things to complain about, sucking the fun out of their own trip. One group of girls approached me after only three days on the island and told me they thought the trip was too long and we should go home. Compare this to two years ago when girls were crying as we got on the boats to leave the island after a week.

Every class has it's dynamic and this one's reputation as being non-unified, apathetic, and leaderless didn't fail us in Gorgona. Despite the mediocre attitudes of some of the students, it was still a great trip! These are some of my personal highlights:

No hablo inglés.
I was the only gringo on the trip this year. The Dean of Students is from Canada and has been in Colombia for around 18 years so he doesn't really count. And while a couple of the other chaperones are effectively bilingual, the language of function this trip was Spanish. This might be the first group of students to think I'm a lot more capable in the language than I really am.

Watch your step!
The name "Gorgona" is in reference to the Gorgon Women of Greek mythology. In other words, there are a lot of snakes on Isla Gorgona! Last time I was there we had a couple boa sightings. This time, there were the requisite boas, a tiny coral snake and two encounters with the most venomous snake on the island, Bothrops atrox. Known on the island as "talla equis," this pit viper species can be identified by the X shaped markings along it's back. We found one sitting in the middle of the trail one day and our guide successfully navigated us around it, marking it's location afterward by sticking a forked branch in the ground and inserting another stick in the forked area as a sort of arrow to indicate to other guides the snakes one time location. Another less excited encounter came when one of the 9th graders stepped on a tiny baby one that then scurried into the jungle.

Fresh coconut
Three of the days on the island I accompanied a third of the students on a hike to Playa Blanca to carry out their Biology Lab for the trip. All three of those days I was treated to fresh coconut and coconut milk courtesy of the guide. Delicious way to spend a late morning!

The other schools
Marine Biology is not my forté but I do enjoy poking my head below the surface and seeing the incredible diversity of life that exists there. The couple times I got to snorkel on this trip were incredible! I can't remember seeing that many fish of all shapes and sizes in one place. I'd look down and see a pair of parrot fish poking around some brain coral while a school of tiny black and grey fish with florescent green dots by their dorsal fins darted past only to glance above the surface for a moment and have it all replaced by an enormous school of two foot long iridescent fish sailing past. Unfortunately, I was not with the group that was within meters of a humpback whale and her calf.

Turtle Power!
Almost every night, a group of biologists stationed on Isla Gorgona head out in search of sea turtles to measure, weigh, and tag for tracking and research purposes. The biologists invited us to watch this process this year. The night I took a group of students the biologists hauled in four turtles! How they catch them with their bare hands in the dark of the night is beyond me but once on land, the turtles are put in separate wooden boxes and then carried over to the measuring/weighing table one at a time. One of the more interesting things about the research was that they snip a tiny piece of skin from the back of the turtle's neck for DNA classification purposes. Another interesting aspect of the whole process was the use of only red lights; white light (no flash photography or flash lights) was allowed near the research station.

The Amazing Race
The last day on the island includes a visit to a beach on the opposite side of the island from where our lodgings are. We spend all afternoon enjoying the black sand, good sized surf, and cool westward ocean breeze. To get there though, there are two options. The tough can come with me and a few other chaperones and guides and hike the four kilometers to the south and then up and over the middle of the island. The weak or lazy can take the boat. As our intrepid group of 21 hard-core 9th graders exited the jungle and began traversing the first of three beaches before crossing the over the middle of the island, the boat carrying the weak came into view. And we ran. All 21 in unison. Probably the most unifying event of the trip (ignoring the fact that it excluded those on the boat).

In the end, I know the trip was worth it. (Really, when is spending a week on an isolated and near-virgin tropical island not?!?) I would like to think that most of the students had a good time and it is my wish that, upon reflection, the majority of them will look back at their memories and pictures and wish they were back on Gorgona, even those girls who wanted to leave paradise after three days.

Panamania!

I realize the title and theme of this blog is to inform everyone about my "Aventuras en Colombia" but did you know that once upon a time, a man named Simón Bolívar created a great big country called Gran Colombia which included the modern day nations of Bolívia, Ecuador, Perú, Colombia, Venezuela, and Panamá? So technically visiting and discussing here the country that connects South America to the rest of the Americas is staying within the parameters of the title.

For Semana Santa (Holy Week)/Spring Break three good friends from Minnesota met me in Panamá for a week-long adventure of traversing the country and testing my translating ability. While planning, several precedents were set: I wanted to see as much of the country as I could in a week without driving too much while still staying in a few places at least two nights and incorporating the ultimate travel wishes of my companions. Maggie wanted to fulfill her dream of zip-lining through a rainforest. Kim wanted some sun and beach time. Eric wanted to try some Panamanian food "Anthony Bourdain-style" (Travel Channel food guy). Let's see what we can do...


I was able to meet my friends at their gate at the airport outside of Panama City since my short flight from Cali got in before theirs did. We went through customs, got luggage, and proceeded to the car rental where we were introduced to our chariot for the week, a 2009 Toyota Prado. Next challenge? How about navigating the mess of signless streets and dead-ending highways called Ciudad Panamá. I've never driven in Cali but I must have picked up a little aggressiveness via passenger osmosis from careening around in so many Caleño taxis. With several maps and three navigators we only got "lost" four or five times before finding the one road out of the city going west over the Puente de las Americas (Bridge of the Americas). We all breathed a sigh of relief knowing the trip could now officially begin! I breathed a second sigh knowing that that moment would be the longest amount of time before I would have to tackle Panama City traffic and roads again.

The entire week was to be spent in four different locations, all along the Pacific coast of the country. We were to drive through six of the nine Panamanian provinces and visit places in five of them. Of the remaining three, two are on the Caribbean coast and the other is mostly jungle, borders Colombia, and is mostly indigenous communities and some Colombian para-military groups in hiding.

Coclé Province

The first stop was to the sleepy ocean town of Santa Clara and, more importantly, the Playa Santa Clara. Long stretches of white sand beaches and steady waves kept us company under some thatch huts in front of our lodging at Restaurante y Cabañas de Veraneras. I ate a lot of seafood on this trip but the best may have been the corvina (white fish) the first night; it was melt in your mouth fantastic.

One afternoon we headed north into the mountains to the small town of El Valle. From a point near here it is possible, on a clear day, to see both the Pacific and Caribbean coasts. On a very clear day, however. In the cloud forest 3KM outside of town is a breath-taking hike and canopying adventure. Our guide, Andriano, showed us lost of different insects and flowers on the hike up to the first zip-line, but the coolest thing we saw was a sloth! (In Spanish a sloth is called a "perezosa" which literally means "lazy." I laughed when Adriano told us this; I use this word plenty at Parent/Teacher Conferences.) Of the four canopy lines, the third was the most impressive. It started out so steep that one had to be lowered by another rope attached to your belt or too much speed would be picked up. This one passed in front of an incredible waterfall.

Maggie had a blast. Dream fulfilled: Check!

Veraguas Province

This is the one province we never did anything in, save for stopping for gas, a bathroom break, and a snack at a roadside super-mercado. Oh, and getting pulled over and bribing a police officer.

First off, Veraguas Province is much like driving through parts of heavily wooded Texas with a lot of hills; there is a lot of vegetation, its very dry and not necessarily lush, but its not a desert either. The poor signage continued from Panama City, as well, and at times the speed limits would change suddenly from 100KM/HR to 60 KM/HR. It is not a good thing when the 60 KM/HR sign is missing/obscured/not seen right before a police officer with a radar gun on the other side of a hill. The policeman actually pulled me and a semi-truck over at the same time which impressed me.

After exiting the vehicle and going over to his car, the conversation went like this:
(Somehow all in Spanish)

Officer Panama: Look, you were going 92 in a 60.
Stetson: OK. I believe you.
OP: The fine is $50.00 You have to pay it before you will be allowed to leave the country.
S: OK. Can I pay it now?
OP: No, because I don't have any receipts. You can pay it at the airport, the border with Costa Rica, or at any [something] government office.
S: OK. Fine.
OP: I need to keep your license, though.
S: Seriously?
OP: You can get it back after you pay the fine.
S: So you will send it to me?
OP: What do you mean?
S: I live in Colombia but the address on the license is in the USA. Will you send it somewhere?
OP: No, you can pick it up in David. (largest city in Chiriqui Province - but not anywhere near where we were going)
S: Oh. So, it is necessary that we go to David?
OP: Where are you going?
S: Isla Boca Brava. And then back to Panama City.
OP: I'm from near Isla Boca Brava. It's beautiful.
S: ---
OP: Look, if you pay the fine with me I'll file the report and write a receipt later. Then you can keep your license.
S: Yes?!?

I guarantee there is no record of me getting pulled over in Panamá on file in any police office. However, the last year and eight months of learning Spanish suddenly all became worth it in that one moment. Also, 92 KM is not that fast. Most of you probably drive faster than that on your way to work.

Chiriquí Province

The reason we got a 4WD vehicle was in order to get to our next destination, the Isla Boca Brava, an island just off the coast of a tiny town called Boca Chica. After turning off the Interamericana Hwy onto a sometimes paved road, we drove for about an hour south toward the Pacific and the Gulf of Chiriquí. Once there, we disembarked at the town dock, hired a water taxi to take us for a five minute ride across the way to the Isla Boca Brava, where one finds the Hotel y Restaurante Boca Brava. (You don't need a creative or unique name when you are literally the only establishment on the island.) The "hotel" doesn't take reservations and, in the chance there is no vacancy in the various rooms, the staff will put you up somewhere in a hammock; we got lodging.

After settling in, we headed for one of the beaches, Playa Piedrita, on the southern side of the island. After a 30 minute hike, we came to a beautiful rocky and secluded beach. It didn't stay secluded for long though, as we were greeted by a large troop of monkeys, some with tiny little babies clinging to their mothers' backs. They really paid us no mind as they traversed the branches of the trees from one side of the beach to the other, disappearing back into the forest. The next morning I went for a trail run and came across the troop again. Some of them were just waking up and one, that I couldn't quite locate, was howling very loudly as I got closer so I opted to turn around.

After breakfast we chartered a pontoon boat out to one of the further islands, Isla Bolaños, for a day of snorkeling, coral sand beaches, and sparkling waters. The snorkeling was interesting and I saw my first wild octopus, as well as some brilliantly colored fish and a neon-blue starfish. The beach was also filled with wildlife including thousands of hermit crabs and some sort of iguana-like lizard that may or may not have been hunting the crabs. We spent the afternoon floating in our private bay, reading on the beach, having lunch, and just enjoying the sun and the view of mainland Panamá off in the distance. On the way back to Isla Boca Brava our pontoon was joined by a school of dolphins who swam alongside and leaped into the air in front of our craft for about ten minutes.

Kim's pristine beach and glowing sun: Check.

Back at the lodge, we enjoyed another dinner of good food and drinks, as well as a liberal helping of aloe to pretty much everywhere. We talked with one of the managers of the establishment, a German guy, who told us the owner and his wife, also German, are trying to sell it as it is becoming "too commercial" and they feel guests are expecting too much - more than a rustic hotel and restaurant might be willing to offer, anyway. So, if you have $30 Million laying around, it's all yours! If not, and you are in the area, make this a part of your itinerary before someone else buys it and turns it into a great big luxury resort.

Los Santos Province

The turn-off of the Interamericana for Boca Chica was our westernmost point in the journey, especially now that a trip to David to reclaim my license was no longer necessary, so we jumped back on the highway and head east toward Panama City again. I was very careful this time in Veraguas Province and Eric, as my chief navigator, helped me look for the sometimes elusive speed limit signs.

When we got to the end of the province we headed south again, this time into the Azuero Peninsula to a town in Los Santos Province called, appropriately, Villa de los Santos. It is here that Panamá officially declared it's independence and the people of the entire peninsula are very proud people to be living in the birthplace of their country. There are many festivals throughout the year in the scattered towns throughout this region, including the Semana Santa festivities held in Villa de los Santos.

We found and checked into our hotel, hung out by the pool for awhile, and then headed into town for dinner and some people-watching. Dinner was had at a small tienda across from the main plaza near the church, were the night's service was being held. I love stumbling upon restaurants where there is no menu - just a plate that they serve. Eat it, or don't. It's like dinner at home as a kid. You don't like what Momma's cooking? Fine! Go hungry. This particular establishment served grilled chicken. You could get it by the quarter: 1/4 bird, 1/2 bird, or whole bird. All grilled and seasoned to perfection by the old lady with the scarf around her head and hips that could move a mountain who has probably been doing this her entire life.

Shortly after dinner two things happened: the stomach ache that was most likely a little amoebic friend in Maggie's intestine decided it didn't like the chicken and she needed to go back to the hotel, and the church service ended to allow the Wednesday night festivities to begin.

A year ago, after crawling out of the Amazon jungle, I happened upon a Semana Santa parade in the town of Leticía. I was excited about making this a two-year tradition. The procession in Villa de los Santos was a little different that the one I saw last year. First of all, this one was at night and there were no Stations of the Cross to visit along the parade route, just three bed-sized floats with flowers, lights, and statues depicting Christ and a couple saints being hoisted and carried through the streets. The crowd still moved as one and there was still a member of the church clergy on a megaphone telling the Easter story. This time however, it was nearly impossible to hear as the drone of the generators used to power the lights on the floats drowned out the voice of the speaker. I'm not Catholic, but it was a moving experience to watch and walk with this age-old tradition move through streets that have seen probably over 250 of these ceremonies.

Herrera Province

The next day, Maggie's amoeba having calmed down, we again headed back to the Interamericana, leaving behind Los Santos Province and passing through Herrera Province. It is here that one of the first Panamanian towns, Parita, is found. Located just off the main route into the Azuero Peninsula, Parita is tiny grid of cobbled and gravel streets with modest brightly colored houses book-ended next to each other. In the town center there is a surprisingly large church with the bell tower positioned untraditionally over the entrance and not one of the front corners. The guidebook told us that this is the only church in Panamá, and much of Central America, to have such a feature. It also mentioned that church-goers do not linger near the entrance as they are still skeptical of it's structural integrity.

Panamá Province

On the way back into Panamá Province, we stopped at a notorious roadside diner that many Panama City residents stop at on their way to their fincas or beach resorts. The establishment was a few steps above a shack or some temporary building one might find at a State Fair so it was funny to see BMW's and Lexus's parked in the gravel parking lot. But that also told us we would not be disappointed. The restaurant is known for it's bollos (cornbread-like rolls with different flavors like chili, cheese, chicken, coconut, etc.) and chicheme (drink made of milk, corn, and cinnamon). Well, when in Rome! I actually have had a version of the bollo back in Colombia, though I believe it is called something else, and while I wouldn't drink them all the time, the chicheme wasn't as gross as it's list of ingredients leads one to believe, just a little chunky.

Eric's roadside culinary attraction that Anthony Bourdain would love to visit? Check!

Putting off the inevitable, the dreaded return to the city of few driving rules and fewer signs finally came. Fortunately for us, it seems that the last part of Semana Santa, Panama City residents leave town so traffic was significantly reduced. This did not make it any easier to find out hotel; after making three loops around the same neighborhood, mostly because the location of the hotel was marked incorrectly in the guidebook by a block and was in the crack in both maps, we found the elusive Hotel Costa Azul - which was neither blue nor on the coast, but I digress.

We settled in, then headed out for a nice dinner at Palms restaurant for both Kim and Maggie's birthdays. The chef at Palms was incredible. She had managed to create some delicious and inventive meals that made you savor each bite. I had a plate with pork wrapped in bacon on top on a stack that included a tiny crepe, and apple slice, and a portabella mushroom. This was all topped with candied shredded carrots. At the end of the meal the chef came out to meet us and it turns out she is from Barranquilla, Colombia. Small world!

The next couple days were filled with more delicious food, including a fantastic sushi dinner (Maggie and Kim wanted to try sushi with plantains since I had talked about how much I loved getting that here in Cali) and a great Lebanese restaurant (which, incidentally was the only thing open on Good Friday).

On our last full day in Panama City, we ventured to an area called Casco Viejo, or the "old compound." This area was, essentially, the city's second try after the original settlement, Panamá Viejo, was destroyed by the infamous pirate Captain Morgan. Panamá Viejo was the first European settlement on the Pacific side of the Americas (north and south) so Casco Viejo is still one of the first. It reminded me a lot of Cartagena in terms of it's architecture and sea-side location; it has a very enchanted European feeling to it.

It is here that we encountered many vendors selling various souvenirs, including pieces of fabric called "molas" which are crafted by the Kuna people of the Kuna Yala Province along the Caribbean coast. The women selling the molas were dressed in traditional attire and seemed out of place in this old city setting. According to the guidebook, the Kuna do not like to have their picture taken, in their province anyway, so I respected that wish, but their skills with creating these pieces of layered fabric are incredible! Kim bought four small molas to frame for her nephew.

Last but not least, though a tad out of sequence, on the list of things to do when one visits Panamá, is to see the Canal. Before we returned our Prado, we drove the half hour north of the city to the Miraflores Locks, the only set of locks on the Pacific side. (There are two sets on the Caribbean, but this is the most accessible and tourist-friendly.) I've been to some internationally known landmarks and been disappointed, such as the Statue of Liberty and the Mona Lisa, but the Panama Canal does not make that list. It really is an engineering marvel. Every ship constructed today is designed with the dimensions of the Canal in mind. Some of the enormous ships that passed through the series of locks while we were there had literally inches to spare on each side as they passed slowly to the ocean. It takes about eight hours for a ship to get from one coast to the other and can cost upwards of $200,000 depending on the size of the vessel.

The most interesting thing I found about the Canal system was that, while a boat is in the Canal, if it is a huge ocean-liner, it has to have a Panamanian captain. For this reason, all of the large ships flew the Panamanian flag as they passed though, as the original captain has to temporarily give up command. We ate lunch on the terrace of the museum's restaurant and watched several ships of impressive size from all over the world exit toward the Pacific, saving countless hours of travel.

People were skeptical of the Canal's future success when the U.S. handed over complete control of it to the Panamanian government in 1999 but it has continued to run successfully and there is actually an expansion project underway due to be completed in 2014, which will increase the number of crossings and decrease the amount of water needed to move a ship through the locks.

All in all, I really liked Panamá and I loved traveling around with some good old friends and practicing my Spanish. If I have trouble finding a job as a teacher I might have to considered the travel agent/personal tour guide gig!

I kept inadvertently comparing everything to Colombia in my head and I have to say that by the end of the trip, I really missed it. Panamá is nice...but it's no Colombia. I know they used to be the same country, but I think it is okay that they gave this part up; Colombia still has all the good stuff!

The "Donde" Situation

I have had several situations during my time in Colombia where I have asked myself "where am I?" Sometimes out of actually being lost but most of the time out of complete awe for my surroundings. Cartagena De Indias fell into both categories. One of the few "discovered" Colombian cities by North American tourists, this walled Spanish city on the Caribbean coast dating back to the 1500's is truly an enchanting place.

Donde Estamos?
Between myself, my roommate, Nira, and my life-long family friend Sarah (who flew in from Minneapolis for a warm Thanksgiving weekend) we asked ourselves "Where are we?" quite a bit. This despite having two different guidebooks and being in a walled city next to the ocean one would think getting lost would not be a problem. Well, this is the one Colombian city without numbered streets and they often times change names every block. So, while, yes, you will eventually end up at a wall or the sea, that doesn't help you find that one restaurant or your hotel if it isn't embedded in the exterior.

"Where are you from!?!?!"
The one thing that dragged down the magical time capsule-like atmosphere of Cartagena were the street vendors. I know I am spoiled traveling around a country generally unruined by touristic consumerism but I feel as though I was commercially accosted more times in the first day than the entire year and four months I've been here.
People selling jewelery, Cuban cigars, "real" emeralds and silver products, as well as boat trips and money changers, all from the street. The sad thing is that people actually fall for it. Honestly, who exchanges currency from some dirty man on the street? I got many of them to give me a slight reprieve by telling them I lived in Colombia or in Cali; that seemed to at least confuse some of them long enough for me to get away.
The vendor that gets the top prize for persistence was the umbrella salesman who insisted we purchase one of his two umbrellas after dinner one night when it was no longer raining. Even after explaining this to him he followed us for a good five blocks. Another man insisted on knowing where we were from by literally screaming at the top of his lungs "Where! Are! You! From!" over and over again in English. When I didn't respond to that he preceded to ask if I spoke French or Portuguese, but in Spanish, of course.

Where to now?
With all the history (Cartagena was one of the first Spanish forts in the "new world," enduring numerous pirate attacks, and being one of two main hubs of the African slave trade) and architecture, it is easy to forget that it is located on the Caribbean. Well, not "easy" - it is incredibly sunny and humid and the heavy air has a nice salty odor.
On Saturday we joined a group of fellow tourists to venture out to the nearby National Park in the ocean that encircles several small islands known as the Islas del Rosario. A few hours after leaving the grey-blue water of the port, we encountered the most magnificent shade of turquoise I think I've ever seen in the natural world. As we weaved in and out of the tiny islands, some with just one little house on them, the color of the sea seemed to change like a vending machine mood ring. We got off the boat at a tiny aquarium located on one island and walked the boardwalk through which the ocean crashed up between the planks with each surge. There were dolphins, sharks, rays, and sea turtles, all in the most organically natural setting they could have been in. Had you wanted to, you could have reached out and touched each one.
Back on the boat the sea was getting to Sarah and we had to persuade an old man to let her lay across "his" seat. He obliged, but not happily. The other stop on the tour was lunch and beach time at the beautiful white sand beach on the appropriately named Playa Blanca. Lunch was typical Colombian fare (rice, fish, plantains, salad) but the beach was anything but. Somehow there were vendors here too and they brought their women friends who were offering massages. (Because when you're on a beach in paradise you're tense?) Again, the water was unbelievably aquamarine and the breeze made for the perfect place to rest after a nice lunch.

The best part about Cartagena though was wondering the narrow streets, admiring the leafy and ornate balconies and coral and limestone facades. Between the walls, the dungeons-turned-craft shops, weathered old canons, and uneven roads, it was impossible not to marvel at what this mass of buildings has seen. The trials of early colonial Spanish settlers, violent battles against pirates, the inhumanity of humans being sold as property, and finally tourism and relative calm leave much to be learned and even more to be imagined.

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

None of these things I used this past weekend (except for a taxi which is technically an "automobile" but let's overlook that for now...). Think of ANY other form a transportation and I probably used it; this weekend was a mini-course in transit.

BUENAVENTURA

This weekend I explored the Pacific Coast of Colombia (Pacifico) with another teacher, Matt, who has been in the country for six years and has an interest in travelling "off the beaten path." There are certain places I would not feel comfortable going both because of my limited Spanish AND safety concerns. However, travelling with someone who is familiar with the area, people, and language to said places was an opportunity I could not pass up.

We left school immediately after the final bell Wednesday of Thanksgiving break and hauled it to the bus depot as quickly as traffic allowed and hopped on a colectivo (mini-bus) bound for the port city of Buenaventura. Now, I've mentioned Buenaventura before but just to recap and elaborate... Buenaventura is a shit hole. It is basically a giant ghetto surrounding one of the richest ports in South America. It is Colombia's only Pacific Coast port city so all the goods that come into the country from China, Japan, Russia, etc. come thru this port. Basically, there is a lot of money coming in to a city where most of the population has none. Also, the Pacific Coast of Colombia, I've been told several times, is one of the wettest places on earth; it does seem to always be moist too so there has to be some truth to that. For more info: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buenaventura%2C_Colombia

We found a hotel, which was a trick in and of itself because we had to find a reputable one, meaning one that didn't rent rooms by the hour. After that we met up with one of Matt's friends, Jhonesy, for Chinese food at restaurant across from our hotel. Jhonesy is an aspiring reggaeton singer who is allegedly moving to Spain to produce an album with Sony. We'll see. I have a hard time figuring out why he is living in Buenaventura if he is as on the cusp of musical success as he says... Regardless, Jhonesy told us a lot of interesting things about the city, including some barrios he won't even go into. I believe the exact line was "You can go in, but you aren't coming out." Jhonesy told us that muggings in some areas have gotten so bad, thieves have been known to take a machete to someones ankle in order to steal their shoes. There is no request - they just hack off the foot.

Needless to say, the next morning when we ventured down the block to the pier to get on our boat (keeping track of the transportation?), I couldn't have been happier!

JUANCHACO and LADRILLEROS

The cliffs of Ladrilleros at high tide.

About an hour lancha (large motor/speed boat) ride north of Buenaventura is the small community of Juanchaco. I don't know the exact population of this little coastal town but it probably is more that I would expect for the number of houses it has. Bascially, the people of Juanchaco live off the sea and the limited tourism that come and go from their dock (singular). There are no roads that connect Juanchaco to the rest of Colombia. The only way in or out is by water.

Shortly after arriving we jumped on a couple of moto-taxis and headed north for about five minutes to the even smaller village of Ladrilleros along an occasionally paved winding road. I realized, as my driver evasively maneuvered around a giant mud puddle, that I had never been on a motorcycle before.

Hotel Medellin

After being dropped off in the center of town, we walked to our hotel, negotiated a price and checked in. The hotel was impressively located right on the cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Now, whatever seaside resort hotel you're imagining...stop. The rooms at this hotel were probably around ten foot square with a (lumpy, but clean) mattress, plastic resin table, and a fan. The toilet was located right around the corner for convenience. Each room had a small balcony facing the sea large enough for the two red plastic chairs to fit. For the two nights we stayed there, my room cost me all of US$20...and this was probably the priciest place in town.

For the next two days we just relaxed, hung out on the beach (when it was at low tide), read lots and lots, and ate just as much. The livelihood of the people in Ladrilleros is similar to that of Juanchaco with possibly a little more emphasis on tourism. Many locals fortunate enough to own property on the main road open up the front of their homes as restaurants. "Restaurante de Teresa" and "Restaurante de Alise" were two we frequented. There are no menus; you either order fish or eggs (possibly carne) and it automatically comes prepared in some delicious way with rice and a fried plantain.

Despite the tourism industry, both Juanchaco and Ladrilleros are pretty poor communities. Most of the houses look as if a stiff wind would topple them and although the aluminum roofs probably do a decent job of keeping the water out, many of the houses that are not elevated on a wooden platform often have their dirt floors flooded by the frequent rains. I would also not be surprised if there were more dogs living in Ladrilleros than people.

Some restaurants you even have to pay in advance because they do not have the food and need to go purchase it for you. This was the case several times, especially for dinner when we were ordering seafood. Side note: Teresa makes a mean shrimp dish. It is truly amazing what these women are capable of producing in these limited facilities. I would love to see what they could do in a good kitchen!

SAN CIPRIANO

After almost three days of relaxing and taking in the sun and surf, Matt and I headed back to Juanchaco by moto-taxi to catch the last lancha of the day back to Buenaventura. This particular lancha ride was relatively terrifying as we became airborne several times and killed the motor thrice. Despite the clear blue sunny sky I didn't find much fun bobbing idly in the giant ocean waves waiting for the motor to maybe start again. And again. And again.

Finally back on dry land, we quickly hailed a taxi and headed out of town to an exit for a town about 30 miles southeast of Buenaventura. The town the taxi dumped us in was Cordoba, however, this was just that, a dumping point. Our intended destination is the tiny village of San Cipriano, hidden deep in the jungle in the middle of a National Forest.

Riding the "brujita" or "little witch."

Because this is protected land, there are no roads in or out of San Cipriano; instead they have a "rail car" of sorts. There is a single narrow track connecting San Cipriano to the rest of the world running about eight miles thru the jungle. Each rail car consists of a wooden platform on casters with a motocycle and bench situated parallel to each other. The motorcyle is bolted to the platform by its front wheel with the back tire touching the track. So, you straddle the bench and hold on tight as you go barrelling thru the jungle at up to 35-40 MPH. What happens if you encounter another rail car coming the other direction (remember - one track!)? You stop. The drivers stare each other down and through some unspoken pecking order, one of the rail cars is lifted off the track so that the other may pass. We must have a had a driver near the bottom of this caste because we had to de-rail car quite a bit.

Non-stop the rail car journey probably takes about seven minutes; depending upon the number of encounters with other rail cars, it could take longer. Because San Cipriano is in the middle of a National Forest and because of the unique method of transportation, it has become a smallish Colombian tourist destination and the village makes a living off of that. However, because it is in the middle of the jungle, even as recently as the early 2000's this was guerrilla territory and although an increased military presence in the area has pushed most of the guerrilla out, the natives here are more than likely, if not ex-guerrilla, guerrilla sympathizers. This is not to say San Cipriano is not safe. The locals know that they rely on tourism to live and are very warm and welcoming people.

Upon arriving we made our way to Matt's favorite hotel in town, Hotel David, where we were welcomed in with hugs and kisses from the owner, a sweet lady named Luz-Mari. She made a wonderful dinner of crayfish from the river, sancocho (a very popular soup in Latin America), rice, and fried plantains. We were pretty tired after traveling all day and called it a night.

If Ladrilleros has more dogs than people, then San Cipriano has more chickens than all of Colombia. Sunday at the crack of dawn the overabundance of roosters woke us up and there is no going back to sleep with roosters crowing all up and down the road.

Now, in San Cipriano there is one man with a vehicle. I don't know how it got into the town in the first place but he has a very old military surplus-type truck circa 1950. When it runs, he will take you a few miles into the jungle along the river and dump you off there with an inner tube to spent the next couple hours floating down the river back into town. The water in the river (I couldn't tell you the name) was unbelievably clear. There were spots I could see straight down almost 15 feet. It was a perfect way to spend the Sunday morning hours.

Upon our return, Luz-Mari had breakfast and tinto (coffee) waiting for us and we ate a leisurely breakfast watching the tourists and townsfolk walk up and down the main/only street in town. We then packed up, took the rail car back to Cordoba, hiked up to the highway, waited for a colectivo with two empty seats to come by and headed back to Cali.

Overall, a relaxing and busy Thanksgiving holiday weekend. I got to see a lot of places I probably would not have ventured to alone and got to travel by bus, boat, motorcycle, and rail car. I'll satisfy the need for the plane over Christmas vacation when I fly to Bogota...hasta diciembre!

Survivor: Gorgona

Each year the ninth grade class goes on a trip. I'm not sure what the overall intended purpose of the trip is because there are definitely some educational points to it but as far as an all-encompassing mission statement, that eludes me. This year we went to an Island in the Pacific, Isla Gorgona. It is an entirely privatized area owned by the National Park service of Colombia and the only people who live there are the workers. It also used to be like the Colombian Alcatraz and there is a deserted prison deep in the jungle. But I'm getting ahead of myself...

The trip began on a Wednesday afternoon loading the buses at school. We had to search the bags for the usual contraband (cigs, booze, knives, etc.) as well as music players and too many snacks. I don't make the rules, I just enforce them! After all the moms and dads said goodbye we were off!

After three hours on the bus weaving around steep Andean Mountain curves at 50 kilometers an hour (its sometimes easier not to watch) we arrived in the port city of Buenaventura. (Side Note: Buenaventura is one of the richest ports in South America and the largest city on the western coast of Colombia. It is also the poorest, most run down city I've ever seen. The entire city is like a giant ghetto; it is horribly impoverished.) So, we get off the buses in the pouring rain, grab random bags, run for the boat only to stand in the rain getting wetter by the minute since only one person at a time can "walk the plank" to get on the boat. This is clearly not a luxury cruise. Once we are all on board the Colombian Coast Guard gets on and does an entire inspection on the boat the crew. You see, some of these kids come from very "important" families, for various reasons, and the Coast Guard will be accompanying us on this voyage...you know, just in case. Some of the students' body guards are also riding along with the Coast Guard.

After waiting at the pier for about an hour we finally head out for our twelve hour sea voyage. Although not technically a passenger vessel, there were limited cabins with "beds" and although I was not feeling particularly sea-sick while the storm tossed us around, I felt it best to go inside and try and sleep the hours away. The doctor, on the other hand, was kept very busy all night long. I awoke once at about 2am, took a walk around the boat, talked to some kids on the roof for awhile (the storm was now just a light drizzle), and then went back to bed. When I awoke again, we had anchored and were looking at the paradise that was Isla Gorgona in the dawn light. The time was 6am.

The first small boat (lancha) was loaded with about 16 boys who were taken to shore. (Isla Gorgona has no dock.) Little did they know that the next three lancha-loads would be filled with luggage that they would unload. He he... Then the rest of us disembarked for the island. We then had our bags checked again by the Park Service workers, found our lodging, and had a wonderful breakfast of eggs, arraypas, mango juice, sausage, and avena (a hot oatmeal drink). Finally, we had a brief orientation meeting so that everyone was clear on the rules of the island:

Rule #1: You must have a guide with you if you leave the poblado (lodging area). No exceptions.

Rule #2: There are only two places on the island you can go without big rubber boots. The area around the poblado and the beach.

Rule #3: Rule #2 does not apply after dark. Boots are on all the time.

The rest of the day was free to relax, snorkel from the beach, lay in a hammock, whatever. The kids were great and entertained themselves and I took part in all of the aforementioned activities.

The next three days the kids did a small group activity in the morning, which they rotated through, one each day. There was the prison tour (which was kind of the social studies/English activity), snorkeling lab, and the biology activity which I had to lead. First off, it is very difficult to plan for an outdoor lab in an environment you have never been to before. Second, I had originally planned a lab that would have complemented our evolution unit nicely...but we didn't get that far in class yet so I knew it would be a stretch. So, the morning before departing on our journey I scrapped it and came up with a new one that was more ecology/scientific method based.

For my lab, we walked three kilometers through the rainforest, with the help of our guide, Justinano, mind you (see Rule #1), to a beautiful coral beach, Playa Blanca. There the kids got into groups of three and, using a length of rope marked off three quadrants, inventorying the number, size, and coloration of the hermit crabs inside each quadrant. Blah blah blah...pretty cool biology lab. Eventually they will be writing up a lab report, drawing conclusions, and making some generalizations about hermit crabs and their living habits. (While the kids worked, Justiniano cut fresh coconut for us to snack on before we headed back. (Side note: Eating too much fresh coconut may loosen the bowels...FYI)

Along the hike we saw two boas, a lot a little tiny frogs, and monkeys monkeys monkeys. Occasionally they would get "upset" that we were walking through their home and would come down from the trees to scream at us. (One time a very aggressive monkey was right in the path and, since I was stuck at the back of the line making sure everyone was keeping up, about five of us got cut off from the rest of the group. I called ahead for Justiniano to come save us but he was too far ahead. So Plan B went into effect and I picked up a coconut from the ground, threw it toward the monkey...and we ran muy rapido.) The highlight of the bio lab activity happened on the second trip to the beach when a group of humpback whales passed by about 200 meters from shore. It was amazing to see these enormous creatures so close!

In the afternoon each day we usually boarded the main boat and went to a new snorkeling site or went whale watching. The snorkeling was amazing and I got to see lots of different types of coral I had never seen in person before and also so many beautiful fish...some of which were definitely on our dinner plates later that evening. Red Snapper anyone? The kids loved finding pufferfish and making them puff up. The first time a student came swimming up to me with one I was a little shocked and almost choked on the water in my snorkel. They are so funny looking when they poof out. It is a little like a balloon with a tiny face trying to talk. It is hard not to laugh!

Whale watching, or more accurately, "whale chasing", was a lot of fun too. Most of the time the whales would just be breaching the surface with their backs but every once and a great while we would get to see one jump almost clear out of the water. The first time it happened was right in front of the boat. No one was really so the only image that exists of that moment is the one in our heads. I was ready for the second jump...however it was not nearly as high. Still, it is incredible that these animals can lift themselves so high out of the water. (On one hike back from the hermit crab lab a student heard a loud noise and we looked out through the trees to the ocean and saw a mother and baby jumping over and over and over again. It was an incredible sight to see.) We also finally saw a whale tail on the second to last day which was fantastic!

One night I went with a bunch of students on a night dive to look for organisms that only come out after dark. We looked like a bunch of aliens landing in some sci-fi movie as we hoovered above with our flashlight beams shining through the dark water. The kids found a ton more puffer fish and had a lot of fun chasing the moray eels, much to my concern. I got a kick out of finding sleeping fish who had wedged themselves in the rock and coral crevices.

Some of the other fun or "fun" daily occurrences on Gorgona was being awakened each morning by the monkeys jumping on our roof. Who needs a rooster or an alarm when a troupe of 30 monkeys comes through the poblado each morning? There was also always an abundance of Basilisk, or "Jesus Christ", lizards. They sit almost completely upright and run on their two hind legs...even across water. It is incredible. (Go here to watch a video I found of it: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=9005492250163913372) Other than poisonous snakes, another reason for Rule #3 was the rats. After dark, these gigantic football-sized rodents came out looking for food. Most of them didn't even care that you were there and would only scamper off when you got really close. I get the willies just thinking about them. The guidance counsellor, Carlos Augosto, found one in his bed. After he chased it out and went to sleep, it, or another one, crawled in next to him. (!!!!!) Sick, sick, sick, sick! I think that would have been enough to make me swim back to Cali.

The last day we woke up, at breakfast, and packed up the rooms. We were going to be spending the entire afternoon on a beautiful black sand beach on the other side of the island. Normally everyone walks, however it was raining pretty hard that morning so the kids were given the option to take the boat. From a visitor's point of view it sucked that it rained frequently, but I guess there wouldn't be a rainforest if it didn't! Anyways, I, along with two other teachers, thought walking in the rain would be fun, so we rounded up a few really cool kids (they are cool solely because they wanted to walk with us, of course) and headed out with a couple guides. It was about a six kilometer hike in the mud and clay that make up the topography of the island. It rained for about half of the hike and then cleared up in time for us to dry off and then get wet again from sweat. It was an awesome hike, mostly because we had kids who wanted to be on it so no one was complaining...unlike the cherubs I got to spend time with at the end of my lines to Playa Blanca.

Once there, the ship brought a grill ashore and we had an amazing lunch of pork ribs, potatoes, rice, and arraypas on the beach. A few more hours of playing in the surf and we loaded the boat, headed back around the island to finish packing, have our bags get checked at "customs" (my Spanish was good enough to joke with the park ranger that I was taking a monkey home in my bag), eat dinner, and get back on that dreaded boat. Fortunately, after a week of being around the boundless energy of 70 ninth graders 24/7, hiking several kilometers every day, snorkeling excessively, and being awaken at the crack of dawn by monkeys, I was pretty much spent. I boarded the boat, had a cup of hot chocolate, and crawled into bed. The seas were calm this time around and I slept all night long without waking up once before daybreak as we pulled into Buenaventura again.

So...what did you do on your ninth grade trip? ;)