Why? Hmm.. tough question. I was totally happy in Buenos Aires and had so many wonderful friends there. But I decided it didn't really have enough of the things I am really looking for in a chosen latin american home. It gets cold. It isn't close to water. And apart from meat, there isn't really a heap of cheap, interesting street food. It is also pretty darn expensive. So after an extremely small amount of research ("Hey guys.. where should I move?"), I decided to move to Cartagena.
How? My flight from Buenos Aires left at 6am. Which necessitated arriving at the airport at 3am. Which necessitated leaving home at 2.15am. Which necessitated returning home from a last-minute goodbye dinner at 1am to finish packing.
I flew to Lima, then Bogota, then Cartagena. 14 or so hours later I was at Cartagena Airport being picked up by self-appointed Cartagena ambassador, Willy. I had never met Willy before, but, through CouchSurfing I asked where might be a good area of Cartagena to live and what might be a good site to use to search. Next thing he is volunteering to pick me up from the airport and the next day he is taking myself and a new friend, Shelly, to eat some of the best pizza ever. Here is a photo:
But I'm kindof getting ahead of myself. The pizza came after an entire day of walking around Cartagena and feeling vindicated. Again, although I loved Buenos Aires, it was as though, upon arriving in Colombia, I could let out a big huge breath that I didn't realise I'd been holding in. I'm probably explaining it badly.. but I think maybe it felt like the people (not my friends!! por favor!) of Buenos Aires take themselves really seriously and judge quite harshly so you don't really feel as though you can relax.
Walking the streets here, mini-dancing along with all the latin music (can't wait to learn to distinguish all the different styles), the patchwork-painted buildings, the HISTORY, the colourful and exotic fruit, the random conversations with local strangers... I just couldn't wipe the smile off my face
And that's ignoring the fact my arrival coincided exactly with the 52nd International Film Festival. This meant free movies held in centuries-old theatres, visiting dignitaries (GAEL walked past me on his way to the red carpet.. swoon!), after-parties and general city-wide buzz. Here's a photo of the outdoor screen set up in front of the Torre del Reloj (Clock Tower) on opening night:
When not going to movies, I have filled my daytimes with beach visits, old-town exploring, street-food sampling, and (until 2days ago) home-hunting.
In summary - the historic city is way cool. It is surrounded by a giant wall which is topped with sea-pointing cannons. The buildings inside are old and decorative and colourfully painted. They have wooden balconies with flashes of deep magenta bougainvillea (Hmm.. I'd never noticed how that plant has the word "bogan" in it. I might think about how it is and is not bogan-like later on) creeping over the balustrades and stretching out to create a romantic canopy. The sky seems to be incessantly, cloudlessly blue. The impressive wooden doors all have the most ornate and entertaining door-knockers - iguanas, fish, lions, geckos. They remind me of the Labyrinth and that scene where there is one doorknocker with the handle in his ears.. so he is deaf but can talk.. and the other who has the handle in his mouth, so he can't talk, but can hear. Agh! Sorry! Digress digress! Here is a doorknocker:
I will do an entire, food-related post, but sofar my favourite thing to eat is a bag of mango biche. This is unripe mango that has crunch, cut into soldiers, then doused in freshly squeezed lime juice, chilli-pepper and salt. I could (and do) eat it every day. At least once.
The other thing I love to do is to buy take-away beer or rum from the corner stores and drink it one of the many plazas or on the city walls overlooking the sea and the oldtown skyline. At one point, in one of his books, Gabriel Garcia Marquez talks of the "amethyst afternoons" here. He said something the night breezes too. Anyway.. while drinking my drink and sunset-gazing I like to put "amethyst afternoons" as the title on the mental photo I take. Either that, or the line from the Corona ad "From where you'd rather be".
The house-hunting was a bit more of a process. Early on, we asked someone what is the best way to find an apartment. They answered with "Walking and talking", and that's exactly what we did. 2 full days of walking the street, asking street-randoms, sniffing down leads, looking at palatial-sized, ocean-view rooms we couldn't afford, then rooms where we'd have to push the cockroaches off our beds to sleep at night. Finally we found a room and have been doing a happy dance ever since. It is a big room with a private bathroom in Getsemani, right around the corner from Plaza Trinidad. The Deuna (owner) is this eccentric old lady named Gladys who keeps cages of birds (lorikeets and cockatiels) in the courtyard. There are green plants everywhere and the sunlight comes into our room through a wooden-posted window in the most spirit-lifting way. The first morning waking up in our new home, Salma and I couldn't stop squealing with utter delight.
Oh! Salma! You won't know who she is. It seems strange because for the last few days we've spent 24hours a day together and it feels like I've known her a lifetime. I guess it's a bit of a story but basically, I learned that she was moving to Cartagena too and we decided we should look for apartments together. So before actually meeting her, I invited her to crash in my bed when she arrived. It sounds strange and random - but that's kindof how my life is these days so it doesn't really occur to me how odd that is anymore. I guess I just keep trusting my instincts and the fact that I am the luckiest person ever (ooh! please hubris - don't strike me down yet!).
So the Trinidad Plaza I referred to is like the heart of Getsemani. Basically it is a church with a large paved circular area in front, surrounded by bench seats and food and drink vendors. Young people will busk for money, backpackers will meet up before their night on the tiles, locals with play music from their boomboxes or swing around on their bikes, children will jump on the trampoline or play tiggy. It just has the best, most vibrant feel about it. People in our neighbourhood treat the pavement in front of their houses like a private balacony or backyard. They set up their chairs, play music, smoke and drink beers and call out to any girls that might happen to be walking past. Salma and I always do a bit of a wiggle-dance as we walk past and they blow us kisses.
Anyway.. I already feel so at home here. Even by the time Salma arrived (by that stage I had been here 5 days) it seemed as though we were bumping into someone I knew every ten minutes or so, or I was telling her about some other piece of information I had gleaned, usually on the topic of food. We've been to rooftop houseparties overlooking the Cathedral, we've danced salsa in Cuban bars, I've downed rum with Latin America's best new film directors and we're generally living the latin dream.
So! Now I've found a home, I can concentrate on learning Spanish, salsa, windsurfing and find some kind of income. Hmm.. I'm kinda loving my life right now. (Ugh.. hubris.. sorry!!)
I'm sure there's more to write and tell you about, but I am itching to get back out there so I'm off! I also need to add more photos.. but they're mostly on facebook so you should be fairly well apprised on that front.
If any of you have been to Cartagena and have any recs or contacts please send me mail or comment below. Next post will probably be food. Or about yesterday's visit to Pelenque. Or the all-nighter I had filled with salsa dancing, bocagrande balcony rum-drinking and a refreshing morning swim with a bunch of skinny dipping friends accompanied by waiting police officers. Stay tuned etc etc
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