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.