The Dilemma

I do this to myself you know. It´s like the alcoholic who gets sick... I travel, I fall in love with a place, I don´t want to leave said place. The more I see the more I want to see. The more I do, the more I want to do. I´ve been mentioning "the list" here. Basically the list of things that I have to do, and places that I have to go. I´ve lost track of what exactly is on the list since I never write them down, but all the same, the fact that I lost track is evidence enough that I´ll never realize everything on it.

Update: I´ve been in Cartagena for three days (p.s. my flight back to bogota is tonight). The first night was spent wandering the city. A beautiful place with old colonial architecture. Nathan, don´t be jealous. The next day I met Jorge and Karen, the missionary couple, for lunch. They told me a few good stories about the mission that they started under YWAMs flag. This mission is located on an island a good 30 minutes by speed boat from the coast. Jorge dumped me at the pier and I made my way to the island. I wasn´t quite sure where to get off, they stopped at what I thought were garbage dumps, but were really people´s homes. It was a sad place, but the people ended up being some of the most amazing folks!

Finally, I recognized a sign that told me I was where I was supposed to be: Isla Tierrabomba, Bocachica. I got off and per the instructions given by Jorge, I hopped off the dock into the dirt and garbage, sought the first man standing by his motorcycle and asked for a ride. He and several others loitering by the dock are the offical taxi service of Bocachica.

He dropped me off at the mission where I met the most eclectic team of missionaries. Some from Bocachica, from Cartagena, from Germany, and one from Baranquilla. They made me feel quite at home, which was nice since I was to stay the night there. The contrast from the outside trash heaps to the pristine, tidy inner walls of the mission were comforting. It was a refuge from the refuse.

I was taken on a few tours and noted a few things: though there may not be food in a given shanty, there will be a t.v. No matter who you are, you will be greeted as if you´ve lived there for years. Football (soccer) is played relentlessly all day in a field planted with cowpie landmines. The people, while friendly, are not inherently good. There are girls of 12, 13 years of age who have 1,2,3 children, babies who wander alone in the neighborhood barefoot and sometimes naked. There is friendliness, but no loving care. Like most of these places, the children are starved for love. I was happy to give it.

I went home the next day and crashed. Went for dinner and then booked a tour to the volcano Totumo, which is a volcano, but instead of lava and ash, it´s full of mud. The legend goes that a priest would sprinkle holy water on the fires belching forth from what he felt were evil forces. He seems to have been successful and as a result I got to dive in for a mud bath. Swimming in mud in the mouth of a volcano has to be one of the wierdest things I´ve ever done... And one of the best! It was an indescribable sensation. First, there were guys in there giving "massages". Basically they swiped your arms, legs, back and tummy vigorously and then pushed you to the side in the thick sludge. Then, when all the healing powers of the mineral mud were soaked it was time to wash off. This was done down by a lake nearby where several old ladies with bowls awaited. The one I picked to assist me with my bath was a little aggressive. She said the one phrase she´d learned in English: take it off.

What?

"Taykidov"

Oooh, take what --? And before you could argue she was grabbing at your bathing suit and pouring water in your ears as she squidged her finger in there. It was disorienting and somewhat scarring. She finished and I sat in the shallow water with my swim clothes in my hands, eyes closed, fearing she was coming back. In her defense I never would have gotten as clean without her... but still.

The Mystery of the Wall

I am to stay inside the wall. That is the safety advice they gave me this week. I arrived in Cartagena yesterday and I am supposed to meet the missionaries of Proyecto Libertad at high noon under the clock tower. Sounds like a bad western...

So far, I have not seen much, but I thought I´d let you schmucks know I am a-ok.

The ballots are in

Well, not yet, but they will be while I'm here! Friday is the presidential election and the results could break out into a riotous chaos. There were already riots in Bogota the day that I came, my yesterday's bodyguard had a brick thrown at him in a crossfire between crazed voters and armored police. These guys look like robocops, I hope to get a photo before I'm out.

I have not been lucky enough to actually witness the riot, but I did run into a fellow in the middle of Plaza Bolivar who has been starving himself for nearly three weeks in protest of inequality for the running candidates. He is on the ballot and I simply walked up to the cluster of folks with my digital recorder (trying hard to look like I'm someone who knows what they are about) and they allowed my by to interview him. He and tree others were in chains, I should have asked what the symbolism was for that, since they are only penniless, not captives...

I felt bad for him since he of course is weak and hungry, but I couldn't help but ask how he proposed to change the world by starving himself. Ends up he didn't have a straight answer, he just wants people to know that the race isn't fair since the common man doesn't have money for things like radio spots, etc, and therefore cannot get their message out. Sadly his message was pretty sparse as it was. The idealism is admirable, but the method is senseless.

Coffee, Museums, Starvation, and Mojo

The Itinerary:
1. see the view of Bogota from the Monserrate hill. Check
2. drink coffee in the epicenter of coffee production. Check
3. eat something reasonably authentic (ajiaco). Check
4. visit at least three museums. Check
5. interview the presidential candidate who is starving himself in protest. Check

The coffee was disappointingly un-spectacular. These poor people don´t know better, they get what they get, but its mostly crap. I was hoping for the mecca-type experience in this cup of joe, but their "super strong" coffee reminded me of a sort-of strong folgers.

I ended up with a small collection of men to serve as body guards. They are all extremely friendly, but have this nasty habit of running of with Colombian women. Today, my rapescape artist is a heavily pierced Aussie who is apparently known for his party-hardy personality.

We´ve been walking around the city the whole day. He´s been here a whole month and hasn´t even visited the museums that are only 3 minutes from our hostal. He´s a good boy though. The others I´ve recruited are Aussies, Brits (there is an ungodly amount of Brits here), and an occasional latino from this country or that.

The museums all smell the same.

The Marie Jane, too. You can´t get away from the stuff when you´re travelling, but sometimes it´s a comforting aroma. You know that where there is marijuana, there isn´t likely to be much cocaine, which, by the way, that stuff was rumored to be an illusive commodity, but ends up being as available as the tamales the vendors are selling on the streets. All you have to do is ask... So I hear.

Now, it´s raining and I´m stuck in someone else´s hostal because I don´t want to get drenched.
I have to buy my plane ticket yet to Cartagena.
And make that hostal reservation.
I´m hoping to go out to this great place "chorro de quevedo" tonight. It´s just a little spot where folks hang out later in the evenings. I´ll let you know if and how it goes down!

Visions and Dreams

For those of you who don't know yet, I lost my job recently. I have one thing to say: "PRAISE GOD." It has inspired me to be diligent in seeking God for the dreams and the visions that have manifested themselves in me for more than a decade.

Two things I know for sure:
1. I want to do something missions-related
2. I want to write

The Plan:
1. Write, everyday all the time and sell it
2. Organize short term mission trips
3. Eventually write exclusively for/about missons

If you are interested in short term missions, or know missionaries who would like to promote their missions to U.S.-based churches or individuals, give me the heads-up. I do already have some missionaries on my heart and a few churches on the brain, so pray the dream comes true.