Baths, networking and life lessons

Something that stands out about Colombians in my eyes is how friendly they are. And how willinging to share their time with me. This also means that if I am by myself I am unlikely to be that way for long, since it appears that lonliness is something Colombians fear. And thus my introverted nature suffers somewhat. But this is not something to complain about, rather to hope that I too can learn to be more naturally welcoming. Anyway the reason I bring this up is because being in Popayán has been a series of introductions and invitations.

Last week, Paulo and I went to meet two people, called Clara and Julian, from Patoral Social, another NGO working with mine victims and funded by the German Catholic church. They told me all about what they do, which is similar to the Campaign (CCCM)but involves more direct victim assistance. We went for a gaseosa (fizzy drink) in a nearby cafe and there we met Maira, the Campaign Coordinator for one of the municipalities, who needed to talk to Paulo about a recent victim. She was about 25 I think, as were the 2 Pastoral Social people. In fact everyone in this business seems to be under 35/40, I don’t know what happens after that age..! Anyway (sorry this is turning into a bit of a long story!) the next day I was in town waiting for the Religious Art museum to open (more on that later) so I went to the Juan Valdez café, and there was Clara having a break from work with some of her friends from uni who all work nearby. So we chatted (well they chatted and I added the odd comment) for a while and it was nice. Then yesterday I was in there again and one of Clara’s friends came in with his laptop and came and sat with me and we chatted. He is a music producer and is organising a music festival/competiton that starts next week and runs for the following three. And he asked me if I wanted to sing in it! Alas, I will be back in Bogotá then, but that would have been pretty cool! And all becuase he’s a friend of a friend of a friend. And while we were there 3 or 4 different people came to meet with him, (one of whom owns one of the bars in my guidebook!) so I am getting to be a pro at explaining why I’m here!

But that wasn’t the only product of networking. Maira, who we met to have a gaseosa, phoned Paulo on Friday to see if I wanted to go to the volcanic thermal baths with her on Sunday. Which I did! So we took a colectivo to Coconoco where her family live and her dad drove us to the baths, about half an hour away on an unsurfaced road. The air was suprisingly cold considering how little I’d thought we’d climbed on the way from Popayán, but the water was lovely. There were 2 pools, fed from the volcano, and a water slide too. And no lifeguards, cos who really cares about health and safety anyway. It was full of families from nearby towns, with hundreds of children running around, and I thought how very similar people are across the world, despite everything that separates us.

Last week Miriam took me to visit her school. It’s on the outskirts of Popayán and is fed by a nearby vereda which is home to lots of displaced families. Cauca (the department) has the second highest rate of landmine accidents in Colombia and therefore there is a medium to high guerrilla threat in certain municipalities. So these people come with nothing, and have very little idea of what the future holds. There are not many high ambitions. You know it’s funny, on the news you see refugees in Africa and the Middle East and flooded cities in Indonesia and earthquakes and ruined lives and of course I always think, ‘gosh how awful for them’ or similar, but at the same time there’s something in me that thinks ‘they’re used to it’ and so dismisses it as more of the same news. But how can you be ‘used’ to earthquakes? To flooding? To moving around fleeing for your life? As if you’re expecting it, as if you know ‘this is the type of thing that happens to me, not to someone else’. And why has it taken me so long to realise this?

Anyway, the kids in the school were so full of energy and so full of questions it was amazing. I’m so glad I went. I went first to one of Miriam’s classes of 13 year olds (she teaches Spanish), and she asked me to explain to them why it’s so important to learn English (although I found it a bit difficult to make it completely relevant to them, all I could think of was TV instruction manuals) and then they wanted me to speak some English, so I told them how nice Colombia is etc, using pretty simple vocab I thought. But they had no idea what I said, and when I asked them ‘Entienden?’ (Do you understand?) they all burst out laughing. Then later I went to a class of older kids with the English teacher. They were learning how to use can, can’t, could and couldn’t, through the medium of Mariah Cary songs. The teacher wanted me to help with pronunciation, so I read out the lyrics for them to repeat (they were all very reluctant to speak!) and worried the teacher by my pronunciation of ‘can’t', since she’d learnt the American way. Then they inundated me with questions and wanted me to speak French and Arabic to them and also German, Italian… I wrote some phrases on the board for them and they all copied them down in their books! I had a great time! And on the way home, in the colectivo with Miriam, I thought how it actually wouldn’t be so bad to be a teacher. I wanted to go back to that school again and again to get them more confident, to broaden their horizons, to teach. But to teach in England, well that’s another thing all together. I don’t think I have the confidence. Teachers in England have my utmost respect.

The religious art museum was another example of the friendliness of Colombians. I went one afternoon and was the only person there. So the secuirty guard showed me round! He told me about every single painting and sculpture and it made it a lot more interesting! Because once again this museum was a little lacking in information. I mean for a museum. But it was full of 18th and 19th Century art from Quito, Bogotá and Madrid, reclaimed from the town’s churches to protect it. A pretty impressive collection. But I think this town should recreate its tagline, from the White City, to City of Churches. Because really there are like 50. The other day I went into one to take some pictures and was amazed to see a weekday afternoon mass so full. I took a few pictures, subtly, then realised it was a funeral and promptly left!

Chao for now xx

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