I got back from Minca on a Monday after a long weekend feeling refreshed and ready for another week working with the kids. On the way back to my place I called in to see Elsa, my new Spanish teacher. We organised a rough schedule for my first week of classes as I’m trying to fit them in around volunteering at the schools. Tuesday I was meant to go to school but woke up to torrential downpour. My housemate Diego told me it wasn’t going to be possible to get to the neighbourhood I work in so I called Oscar and told him I wasn’t coming in. As it turns out the kids don’t turn up at school when it rains anyway so it was all good. I’ve been told there are a range of reasons why children don’t attend school here, pretty much all of which would be considered ridiculous back home, but hey, this is Colombia. So I spent most of my day off with my housemate Samara in some kind of a language exchange and then headed off to my first Spanish class with Elsa.
Wednesday was sports day at Fundadores. Although most of the kids came late, almost all arrived eventually, and they were surprisingly obedient and seemed to enjoy the games we played. Dog and bone worked particularly well and they managed to play without significant violence, something I constantly need to be aware of. Being Colombia we always end with a game of football, i love it that most of the kids play in pants despite 35 degree heat.
Playing football in Fundadores
After school I went for lunch with Lisa, another new volunteer who is working on a social project doing a community needs assessment. We discussed how I might be able to help and she helped with my Spanish homework for class that afternoon. Lisa had arranged a meeting in one of the neighbourhoods the following morning to discuss the project with the ‘Mayor’ of the barrio so I said I’d come along. As it turned out I barely understood a word of what was discussed. The speed of speech and accent of the locals in the barrio was way too much to comprehend for someone at my level of Spanish. So I left there knowing I wouldn’t be able to go around and help with the data collection but hopefully can contribute in some other way.
Later that day was my usual afternoon session of sports at Oasis. The kids in this area have significantly more attitude than in the other two barrios and are much more violent. This, and the fact that most have zero respect for me can make things a bit tricky. I had four other volunteers helping that day, which you’d think would be enough to control 20-30 kids, but no, they were out of control. Aside from an early game of donde esta el torro and one pretty dysfunctional relay race they basically refused to do anything else that I asked of them. They were in a crazy mood and in the end I basically gave up trying to tame them.
Donde esta el torro? In Oasis
I left feeling a touch dejected but will be back to try again next week. Following sports I made my way to Spanish class and then to the weekly language exchange that was started by Miles; one of the volunteers at Colombia Sin Fronteras. I enjoyed the drinks and met a local girl Adriana who I talked to in Spanish about dance music. She politely informed me that house music was still ‘house music’ in Spanish and not ‘Musica de la Casa’ which I thought I’d cooly slipped into the conversation. Afterwards I was supposed to be quiz master again for the weekly fundraising quiz at La Brisa Loca but apparently I’ve already adjusted to Colombian time and arrived 15 minutes late so the quiz had started without me. It didn’t matter and I spent the night having some beers and chatting to people both in the bar and on the rooftop until the early hours.
It was one of the conversations that came up that night, but another volunteer had already mentioned it to me before, where donkeys came in. I’d been told that there was a strange custom on the coast of Colombia that involved men and donkeys. Apparently it was not uncommon, and accepted, in certain towns, for men to have relations with donkeys from a reasonably young age. I’d questioned my housemate about it who confirmed it to be true (although he didn’t know anyone who had been with a donkey) and then found this short video made by VICE. It’s a mix of funny and extremely disturbing. If you are offended by beastiality best not to watch it.
Anyway, donkeys aside, I went to school hung (over) like a donkey the next morning. Thankfully Ellie had returned from the Lost Cities Trek and we had two new volunteers from the UK, Kate and Rachael, so there was plenty of help to go around. It was also the last day at school for Sarah, a fellow Australian. Sarah had been a great help since I arrived but had finished 10 weeks here and was off to travel. We got through the usual routine of alphabet, reading, writing, drawing and finished with a game of picture bingo which I bought for the kids. I think I learn more than the kids do sometimes with my knowledge of fruits, vegetables and animals (in Spanish) improving every time we play.
That afternoon I went to help with the sport at Colombia Sin Fronteras. I had a lot of fun with the kids despite scorching temperatures in the low 40’s again. We played soccer with the boys and the girls jumped rope and played with hoola hoops. That night I met up with Ben, Charlotte, Bruno, Marjolein and Lucy for some dinner and drinks at Aluna before heading on down to La Puerta for another reasonably big Friday night.
The next day the five of us, Lisa, and a Colombian girl Eliana, that I’d met through couch surfing, met up before heading out to Costeno ‘surf camp’. Costeno is a beach north of Tayrona park with the camp consisting of some basic facilities, cabins and hammocks. It was another great spot to recharge after a week of hustle in Santa Marta. Saturday we played volleyball, swam, read books and had a few beers by the camp fire.
Costeno beach, near Santa Marta
I took the opportunity to go for a run along the beach the next morning and discovered a look out point where you could stand on the beach looking back towards the jungle with the snow-capped mountains of the sierra nevada in the background. Unfortunately I didn’t have my camera but it was stunning. I spent some of the morning with Eliana in a Spanglish class before taking some time out to go surfing in the afternoon. The others all went for a surf lesson but although I’m pretty terrible I didn’t think it was necessary (plus being Australian I needed to save face) so battled about on my own. This wasn’t my best wave but you get the general idea.
In the green room
On Monday I was awake again when the sun came up with plenty of time for a run, swim and potentially surf but unfortunately there weren’t any waves. Instead I walked down the beach to a river with Lisa and Eliana. I headed back to Santa Marta with Bruno and Marjolein around lunchtime because I had Spanish school that afternoon but hopefully will get another weekend out at Costeno before I leave this area.
The river at Costeno beach, near Santa Marta
This week at Fundadores is “Cultural Week”, with Tuesday having an environmental theme. Following a basic lesson on the importance of not throwing your rubbish on the ground, something you see way too often here, we took the kids out on the streets with rubbish bags and gloves and tried to clean up a couple of the streets in the barrio. From what I’ve seen here in Santa Marta and the surrounds so far, they really need a “Clean up Colombia Day”. The amount of rubbish on the streets and beaches is incredible. Granted they have other issues to deal with (like access to water) but they’re going to have to address it at some stage in the future.
Another day of sport at Fundadores and more Spanish classes and I’m through another half week. I plan to stay around Santa Marta this weekend as there are a few fiestas happening. A house party Friday and night out in Taganga may make for some more interesting reading. Until then.
The Beaten Track 