Xmas in the City of Eternal Spring

The group: Omar, John, Moiz, Kate, Charles, me, Jess, Carolyn, and Coy

I almost titled this post "One Thousand Reasons Colombia is Cooler than Panama" because after a week in Colombia we Panama PCV´s wanted to early terminate our PC service, move to Colombia, and never leave. Indeed, we found a new reason to celebrate November 3rd -the day Panama celebrates its separation from Colombia: Panama can´t dilute Colombia´s pristine and pure culture and general perfectness. I should confess that as a PCV I am prone to romanticising things a bit, so I think I should hold off the comparisons until I know exactly how many times cooler Colombia really is (it´s probably closer to 750). Until I know I´ll just stick to writing positively about Colombia.

On December 19 ten of us departed the Panamanian port town of Portobelo and began sailing aboard the Ave Maria through the Caribbean Sea toward Colombia. Also aboard were our Australian Captain, Paul, and Ornella, our sassy Sicilian-Argentinian cook (when she wasn´t sleeping). Things started off without a hitch.

Not.

The first night was so rocky four of us ended up puking over the side of the boat, Kate flew out of her five foot high bed to the wooden deck and hit her head on a metal pole, and the captain had serious doubts about our mettle. Questioning our mettle is not something PCV´s are used to hearing so Omar set the captain straight in one particularly dramatic moment when he said, "We are Peace Corps Volunteers! You think being on this boat is hard for us? You should see what we go through every day. You could put us through hell but we will NEVER, EVER quit on you, Captain."

He was right. We didn´t quit and the rest of the trip went off without a hitch. Oh wait, except when we hit an anchored boat full of overweight middle-aged European nudists (one of which was pregnant) and Omar -to everyone´s surprise- actually said something more dramatic than before. He took one look at some black specks in the water, determined we were going to sink, and announced to everybody, "we´re fu****!"

We weren´t fu****, though, because paint chips don´t sink a boat, and this time everything did go off without a hitch (until we arrived Cartagena late and missed our flight to Medellin, but I am getting ahead of myself).

While the captain navigated with his computer and managed the sails the rest of us paired off and cycled through three hour shifts behind the wheel for twenty-four hours a day. We stayed one night on a tiny postcard island to celebrate Omar´s birthday and snorkled through beautiful reefs off its coast. The rest of our time we listened to the Rolling Stones top five-hundred songs, ate good food, explained to Captain Paul how to save the world, and tried to name as many sailing-related colloquialisms as we could (we stopped around sixty).

Omar and Coy off the coast of a small island in the Kuna Yala´s

The precise moment (and this is too corny for even Omar to make up) we entered Colombian waters a pod of dolphins met, swam with, and seemed to guide our boat for half an hour. We all congregated at the bow to watch them and kept remarking how fantastic and surreal the experience was. Even though it was, by the looks of things the dolphins seemed to be enjoying it more than us.

Later that day we arrived Cartagena but because we missed out flight we spent a night in the airport. But our bad luck did not diminish our holiday spirit and when we finally arrived a quaint house in the heart of Medellin on December 24th we had a Christmas celebration with Omar´s family that not only lasted until three in the morning but made us ever so jealous of everyone who has been lucky enough to be raised in Colombia (come on, it´s just Pablo Escobar, cocaine, and the FARC!). The food was incredible. We sang Xmas songs, hugged and kissed each other, sang Happy Birthday to Omar, and were treated as family. The most heart warming part of the celebration was that gift-giving completely revolved around the sweet-yet-spunky ninety-two year old Grandmother. EVERYONE had a wrapped gift for her and excitedly waited while she opened them.

The rest of our stay was a whirlwing tour that thoroughly convinced us that Medellin is the greatest city in the world (back off NY). Omar´s cousins, Carlos and Carlos, met us every morning and showed us their favorite parts of the city. We visited a poor neighborhood via cablecars where a fabulous library was strategically placed to encourage education and development. We climbed the rock at Guatape, strolled through the botanical gardens, walked through the famous Xmas lightshow on the river at night, and went to the Botero Museum on our last day. Day by day we became more obsessed with Colombia. Thoughtful city design, beautiful public works projects, friendly people, and delicious cousine combined in a way that left of speechless (even Omar).

atop the rock at Guatape



Kate enjoying her Arepas con queso with hot chocolate

Although Xmas in Medellin was not a winter wonderland and we were far away from our families, the city of Carlos and Carlos, of Arepas con queso with hot chocolate, and where ninety-two year old grandmothers steal all the attention on Xmas is where a group of people wished not to be home with their families but for their families to be with them -in the City of Eternal Spring.