My new life in Santa Marta

After travelling around care free in Brazil and Argentina for so long I arrived in Colombia, more specifically in Santa Marta, with a purpose. I had organised to do some volunteer work with a non-government organisation called Fundacion Mariposas Amarillas (FMA). The name means yellow butterflies and was taken by founder Oscar from the Gabriel Garcia Marquez novel ‘100 Years of Solitude’. The organisation has volunteers who teach children and adults (English and Spanish) in two neighbourhoods as well as volunteers coming for a range of social development and health projects. More on that later.

I arrived on a Wednesday and checked in at Dreamer Hostel. It was out of the centre of town but a chilled hostel with plenty of hamacs and a pool to try and cool down in. I met Brie, Lauren and Ellie, who were all volunteers with FMA as well as Max and a bunch of others staying at the hostel. That night was the FMA quiz night fundraiser at the hostel so I also met Oscar, who is the founder and head of the organisation. Being pretty jet lagged I had some food and a couple of beers and went to bed. Shortly after I was up again and vomiting, in what was the start of an awful 4 days.

Dreamer with Charlie, Ash and Mira

I vomited all night Wednesday and didn’t sleep but had committed to going into school the next morning so somewhat stupidly went in. I managed to get through without vomiting but felt like death. While there it sunk in what I was going to be needed for, teaching Spanish to kids. How can someone who is still learning Spanish themselves teach Spanish? Good question. With difficulty. Not only that, I’ve never actually taught kids before and realised I’m not a very good disciplinarian. Again, this is made more difficult by not knowing Spanish commands like ‘stop hitting each other’ (I’ve since learnt this). At the same time this isn’t meant to be easy and what better motivation to fast track your Spanish language skills than not being able to communicate properly with a 5 year old.

Anyway, by the time I got home that afternoon I was feeling terribly sick, lonely, experiencing some mild culture shock and feeling home sick for the first time. I went to bed in the afternoon and that night I vomited again, then again. It must have been food poisoning because I couldn’t eat anything or move far from the bed until Sunday after 3 full days without food. Luckily two good people arrived in that time. First Kat, who saw me vomiting in the hostel garden and offerred to take me to hospital if things got dire, and then Ashlyn (a fellow Carnival survivor), who I’d arranged to meet, returned from a surf camp and kept a close eye on me.

By Sunday things were on the up and I wanted to get outside so Ash, Brie, Dianna and I headed for Quebrada Valencia, just past Tayrona National Park. It’s a nice walk through the jungle, across a couple of rivers and you end up at a small but pleasant waterfall. At this time of year there isn’t that much of water but we found a big enough water hole to swim in and some rocks to jump off.

Walking through the jungle to Quebrada Valencia

Another waterfall jump, near Santa Marta, Colombia

Quebrada Valencia

On the way back we stopped and bought some locally grown coffee, which I was keen to sample as Colombia is renowned for it. When I got back I took a Spanish lesson with Rayza, which involved learning commands for the class room, and was extremely useful. That night Ash, Ellie and I went to Taganga to have some dinner. We had been recommended Babaganoush, which turned out to have a great view over the bay and delicious food, I’ll definitely be going back.

The next day I went to school in the morning to teach and then to La Brisa Loca, the other main hostel in Santa Marta, where FMA has bi-weekly meetings.

School in Fundadores

Abraham, so mischievous

Before the meeting Brie, Lauren and I went down to the beach for a swim. There was a creepy looking middle-aged man local lurking nearby and as the girls got out of the water he moved up next to them on to the beach. As he got within a few metres of them he suddenly pulled down his pants and lay face down exposing the G-string he was wearing. I was watching this unfold from the ocean and it was one of the funnier and more bizarre things I’ve seen. Some of the men here are full on with their behaviour around girls with the offensive hiss or tsst commonplace (essentially the Colombian version of the Australian tradesman wolf whistle).

Back at the FMA meeting I was asked to take over as sports co-ordinator for my time here, which I gladly accepted. At the moment another guy Miles is organising sport for the other volunteer organisation, Colombia Sin Fronteras (CSF), which is based in another neighbourhood, but he’ll also be leaving soon meaning I will probably be working across two organisations. That will mean I’ll be organising three sessions of sport for the kids in three different neighbourhoods and continuing to teach literacy on the off days. I still hope to undertake a project in the health/medical field but at this stage my Spanish isn’t good enough.

That afternoon I also went and looked at an apartment type complex which I was supposed to be moving into. I’ve been hunting for a Colombian share house but the living arrangements here aren’t like home. Most young people live with their parents or extended families. It was ok so I thought I’d take it for the time being and keep looking with the plan to move in the next day. That night was Ash’s last in South America so we went out for a nice dinner in Santa Marta and I tested the stomach properly with a bottle of Malbec and some seafood. All good.

Walking home I got a better insight into what the city is like at night too, and it wasn’t pretty. The only people on the streets were shady looking guys and prostitutes, although I guess it was a Monday. But my initial impression of Santa Marta city is that it’s not particularly safe. It was a shame saying bye to Ash the next morning as we’d been having a good time together but she was off for NYC and then Europe and I was going back to school. It was Brie’s last day at school but we had some fun clases and then ate ice cream with the kids.

Brie’s last day at school

The next day was my first sports day and I really enjoyed it. Sport is something I’ve always loved and thankfully you don’t need to speak as much Spanish when you can just show the kids how to play a game. They love ‘donde esta el torro?’ (where is the bull), which we would call british bulldogs. Many have poor hand eye coordination and can’t catch, presumably because they spend most of their time playing soccer, so that’s one skill I’ll work on with them.

That afternoon I checked out of Dreamer Hostel and headed for Camilo’s house, where I was supposed to be moving into. I turned up at the arranged time but he wasn’t home and didn’t answer my calls, so pissed off I walked to another hostel called Casa Luna. I’m not sure if I believe in fate but it certainly worked out for the best that I didn’t move in. I met Ben, Charlotte, Marjolein and Bruno, who are all volunteering at either FMA or Colombia Sin Fronteras and we arranged to go away together over the weekend. Even better, the next day, just before I went to check out, Charlotte told me about an apartment she’d seen that morning but wasn’t going to take. It was a room living with a young Colombian couple, Diego and Samara, who are now my new housemates.

I had a busy end to the week with two full days of teaching and sport plus I became the new quiz master in the fundraiser that is run at La Brisa Loca every week. Friday I went to Fundadores (my school) in the morning and then out to Guida, the neighbourhood that CSF work in, and helped Miles run the sport before meeting up with some of the other volunteers for drinks. We ended up out for dinner and then I met Diego, Samara, and some of their friends at the infamous La Puerta club in Central Santa Marta. I foresee this to be a place I frequent. Lots of shots of rum later and Spanish was flowing out of me like wine from a carafe. By the end of the night it was just Charlotte, Pauly and I sitting having drunken chats out the back of the club.

A few too many, with Charlotte

On Saturday Charlotte, Ben, Bruno, Marjolein and I headed off for Minca, a small town just outside of Santa Marta which is in the Sierra Nevada mountains. Although Santa Marta itself may not be that aesthetically pleasing, I’ve quickly realised I’m based in a city surrounded by beautiful natural landscapes. After less than an hour in the car we arrived in Minca and made our way to the top of one of the mountains where our hostel was perched. We had a beautiful view across the mountains, which are covered in jungle, as well as views of Santa Marta and the caribbean.

Sunset at Casa Loma, Minca

Looking down on Santa Marta from Minca

We had a couple of beers and I taught them to play the card game Zephyr, which was taught to me by Ingrid in Guatemala almost six months ago, and is always very well received. We retired to our hamacs for the night, which, strangely enough, was the first time I’ve slept overnight in a hamac. The next day we went to check out some waterfalls called Pozo Azul with the five of us and Ena, an Estonian from the hostel. On the way up we found this bird on the side of the road which appeared to be motherless and distressed.

Lost jungle bird

The water at the waterfall was cold, which was a nice change from the luke warm water of Santa Marta.We had a swim there and then decided to walk further through the mountains to a coffee plantation. One of the topics of conversation on the way up was FARC (Fuerzas Armadas Revolucionarias de Colombia). They are one of two main paramilitary groups (the other being ELN) and between them still control almost 40% of Colombia. There is a lot of talk about the paramilitary group here, with parts of the Sierra Nevada still controlled by the guerillas today. Even though they have been pushed back deeper into the jungle there is still some concern about their presence. Luckily they don’t really kidnap anymore, instead making money through cocaine production. Anyway, we made it safely to the coffee plantation and went on an interesting tour around the plant.

Pozo Azul

Victoria Coffee tour, near Minca

That night we were treated to another nice sun set and again sat and drank beers and played cards. The hostel was the perfect get away from Santa Marta, with the only nuisance being the persistent mosquitoes. The second night in the hamac wasn’t quite as enjoyable as the first, but to sleep where we were for $6 you couldn’t really complain.

Relaxing at Casa Loma, Minca

Sunset from Minca

We returned to Santa Marta on Monday after a very relaxing long weekend (one of Colombias 19 public holidays) but I’ll definitely be going back to Minca again. After returning to town I went to see Elsa, who is going to be my Spanish teacher from tomorrow, then went for a juice with Charlotte. ‘Going for a juice’ has taken on a greater significance to those of us in Minca thanks to Ben. I went back and hung out with Diego and Samara and cooked a risotto for dinner before retiring in preparation for another week of volunteering. All in all I’m feeling settled and happy.