Cruisin' thru Colombia

After putting on my best dirty clothes in an attempt to dissuade any potential shenanigans during my transit into Colombia, I boarded an early morning bus to the border anxious for what the day would bring. Inez, my first bus seatmate assured me that most of the guerrilla activity was east of where we would eventually cross. But, she also informed me that I should have these--making the gesture for eyeballs in the back of my head. The actual border crossing went fairly smoothly. Things started to get interesting right after I got my passport stamped by Colombian immigration. First, I found myself one of eighteen people riding in a van similar to a Ford Windstar from the border to the nearest town. At times like this on the trip I sometimes ponder the asinine situations I find myself in and secretly wish for a skycam that could document the carload of Colombians with a tall gringo wedged somewhere in there. Unfortunately, that memory can only be cataloged in my brain to be forgotten in about 4 days. The attractive Colombian woman smooshed next to me would in the course of the next 5 hours be the source of a good deal of worry. Like the other Colombians I had met that day, she was friendly and helped me with a lot of the transport logistics of getting to the town of Pasto, where she was headed as well. Not long into the bus ride to Pasto, she implied that she was super-friendly and decided to use my shoulder as a pillow. Not a problem, I commonly have this effect on women although my charm usually takes weeks or months to work this successfully. But, also not quite a total fool, I realize this is how 9 out of 10 bad situations start. On the other hand, a bad way to go about travelling and meeting locals is to be totally paranoid of everyone you meet. After arriving in Pasto, she accompanied me to the hostal to verify the state and neighborhood of it, saying that Pasto and the surrounding areas were not safe for gringos. Only feeling not safe because of her, but not wanting to be rude to a potentially well-meaning individual I played along until I could figure this situation out. She was eager to hang out more and seeing the progression of the last 5 hours and not wanting to wake up without my credits cards and a kidney, I feigned illness to get her to leave. She did, only after extracting a promise from me to meet her for breakfast the next day. And so after she left, I changed rooms, told the puzzled clerk not to give out my key, slept with one eye open, woke early and left town like a person with a bad case of morning-after regret. A rocky start on the road to Bogota.

The bus ride today was about as beautiful a drive as I have taken in my life. With 4 months of Andean bus rides under my belt, I have grown fairly de-sensitized to the scenery, but the whole 8 hour trip was truly amazing. So much so, that I deferred any reading and just stared out the window for most of the trip's duration. This staring contest with the mountains was interrupted twice at military checkpoints, where all the bus occupants departed the bus for spread eagle pat-downs and bag searches. Machine guns were in no-short supply. I'd be lying if I said the ordeals weren`t slightly unsettling and the fact that I had not seen one gringo let alone another tourist in my first 24 hours in Colombia didn't help matters. Nor did an old man's response to me when I asked him why there weren't any gringos around. But like I said, almost every Colombian I have met so far has been friendly..

Right now, staying in a nice part of Cali but at a crappy hostel. Will re-assess the situation tomorrow and see what the city has to offer.

Cali Dreaming,
Q