Carter Wilson

2025

British Columbia to Spanish Colombia, both places named after the navigator Christopher Columbus.

August 30

This is my first entry in the "Navigations in Latin America" blog. I am currently in Saskatchewan driving across Canada to help my mom move to Vancouver Island from Toronto. I will arrive back home just in time for my one way flight to Bogota on September 5 which is when I will be posting my next entry.

Here's a picture of the wild west, Saskatchewan. It's really beautiful here by the way!

September 5

It was nice to spend some quality time with family and friends before I went south this morning. Road trip with mom, visiting brother from the UK, barbecue with gramma, fishing with dad, making jokes with sister, seeing my uncle from newfoundland and reuniting with old high school friends. I also managed to complete some last minute errands: got a yellow fever vaccine and malaria pills for the Amazon jungle; and Uvic library books that Professor Beatriz thankfully sent to me, about my research topic, the history of the Tairona civilization.

It was sad to see mom get teary eyed when she dropped me off at the ferry on Thursday night. It's been a long two days - took the last ferry to Vancouver on Thursday night, then went straight to the airport to sleep on the floor and wait till my 6am departure. My sleeping arrangements merely consisted of winning one hour naps tops in the most peculiar of settings: floors, lobby seats, restaurants, taxi, ferry and the plane ride. One skill I did indeed gain in my experience as a backpacker is the ability to sleep anywhere at anytime. Saves on hotels I suppose! The 5 hour layover in Texas went by quick. Now I've witnessed at last where the country twang voice of George Strait originated, "all my ex's lives in Texas" hits particularly different while in Texas. As I'm writing this I'm flying over the gulf of Mexico (or America?) and Cancun which reminds me of the time my family and I took a trip there and was scammed by the corrupt police. Reality is sinking in of what I'm getting myself into in Colombia. Sitting beside me is a Mexican dance teacher with a sense of humor. He has assured me of the safety of Latin America and much of the narratives that describe these places come from a sense of paranoia and false preconceptions. Besides, what I think "it might be like" from what I've read online and been told by other people may be of no avail or benefit. I will report in this blog my first hand experience of the safety levels here in Colombia. Tomorrow me and the Mexican dancer might meet up and do some salsa dancing, or perhaps I will go to the Gold Museum in Bogota!

September 6

At the Colombian customs I was afraid I wouldn't be allowed to enter the country because it's embassy states all tourists require a return flight, which I didn't have one since I plan to enter Peru via boat. But Lo and behold they let me in without even asking about a return flight, but I was held for several minutes, while they let all the Americans through, because I am Canadian and apparently we have to pay a hefty fee to enter Colombia, 300,000 Pesos, or 100CAD.

I was welcomed to Colombia with the first impression of a reckless uber driver. Although it didn't take me long to realize that most of the drivers here are cynical in nature when it comes to weaving around traffic, honking horns and cutting people off. By the same token Colombian people are very welcoming but they are surprised I don't speak Spanish. I counted every one in three people walking on the street are holding hands, a cultural custom I was aware of when I studied in Spain that among Spanish people being romantic and family oriented.

The hostel is passable - lets say I've stayed in worse in one dollar shacks in Vietnam. In the morning I took an motorcycle uber, only 10000 Peso 3 CAD for a 30 minute drive vs. 30000 Peso 10 CAD with a car, to the Gold Museam. I didn't wound up going in because the Mexican dancer, Phoenix, that I met on the plane messaged me that he was on his way downtown. We had some delicious Colombian espresso and did some bartering with the street vendors while being entertained by hip-hop singers and salsa dancers. By nightfall Phoenix had convinced me to take a salsa class with a Colombian from the hostel. Being the only gringo there I had no idea what I was doing but everyone else in the club were moving thier feet in such a complex manner like they have been doing salsa thier whole life! I had a fun filled first day with the impression that Colombia is more safe than western media makes it out to be. That doesn't mean I should not put my guard down, or how the famous Spanish saying goes, "no dar la papaya," don't make yourself get robbed.

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September 7

In spite of having a late night at salsa I woke up at 6am and started the day fresh with an English breakfast and an espresso. It was my mission today to see the Gold Museum, along with the National Museum of Colombia, because I got caught up in a side quest yesterday. My plan is to use both the Gold Museum in Bogota and Santa Marta, where the Sierra de Nevada Tairona culture is, as primary sources for my research essay. I walked into the Gold Museum expecting to see more exhibits on the Tairona culture. Quite the contrary - there is a massive swath of not only Gold but various metallurgy like silver and platinum that covers many other Indigenous cultures in Colombia. The most prominent being the Música, whose culture was located in the region of Bogota. There is nonetheless quite a few respectable pieces about the Tairona.

This gold pendant is a Tairona breastplate depicting a shamon gargoyle cave dweller who identifies themselves as a bat. It is dated in the Tairona period, between 900 to 1600 A.D. This piece was probably the most significant of the Tairona, as I have seen it in many scholarly textbooks on Tairona material culture. I was so excited to see it like the Mona Lisa in the Louve that I had to take a selfie!

The vessel here is depicting a shamanistic ritual. These artifacts are really useful for my essay since my focus is religion and chiefdom in Tairona material culture. Most of the Tairona sculptures in the Bogota Gold Museam appear to be conveying significant religious symbiology to do with the chief/shamon.

This other artifact also reminded me of some of the artistic symbols at the biggest religious structure in the world, the Angkor Wat. It is interesting to see similar figures of worship among ancient polytheistic societies:

Hindu Ankgor vs. Tairona Gold

Along with the worship of a shamanistic figure, both the Angkor and Tairona represent snakes in their spiritual artwork. At the gates of the Angkor Wat, there are two large snakes on either side of the walk way that act as handrailings. The part about the Gold Museum in Bogota that I am critical about is the exhibit on the third floor labeled, "cosmology." For the reasons of many of the Gold pieces in the museum come from various indigenous cultures in Colombia, the cosmology exhibit generalized the dozens of cultures into one. For example, the exhibits explaining the symbiology of the Jaguar in pre-Colombian artwork was written in a manner like it was talking about every Pre-Colombian culture, which does not provide any value. Here's a quote from the cosmology exhibit in the Bogota Gold Museum: "The jaguar-shaman viewed his surroundings through the eyes of a feline, saw other jaguars as humans, and people in his community as prey. A situation that was both dangerous and fearsome for the people." You see the quote is not referring to any specific culture. The narrative of the jaguar-shaman is interesting, but I wish they referred it to a specific culture. What I did enjoy about the museum was the method in which these intricate gold sculptures were crafted. A common method to sculpt the gold was with beeswax molds. They would pour melted gold into a beeswax mold to create the desired shape. Overall the museum was superb and it was certainly the highlight of my time in Bogota.

After some ravioli at a rooftop restaurant, I ventured to the National Museum of Colombia. Unlike the Gold Museum, the National Museum was written only in Spanish. I was able to translate some of it, but I was mostly skimming through and looking at the pictures throughout my visit. The museum itself is a former prison built in the 19th century, and is coined the oldest museum in Colombia and one of the oldest in Latin America.

Me and Phoenix, the Mexican dancer from the plane, met up again this time for Tacos. It was his last night in Bogota before taking off to the Amazon for a Ayahuasca retreat. At the taco joint three locals took us to a reggaetón club next door. The one man, who claimed he owned 15 apartments, told me to not to take any drinks from the other two girls that he was hanging out with. I obliged and the girls left and I subsequently ended up at one of 15 of this guys apartments. After giving me a tour I left.

September 8

Today was dedicated to more research on the Tairona. With my books and laptop I went to the National University of Colombia, which had some graffiti:

I was on a mission to find any local resources on the Tairona, including any professors or students who specialize in this niche. After stumbling into the music department and hearing various students playing Spanish instruments, I found the main library where the security guard told me to go to the third floor for history. The librarian there who spoke English was surprised a gringo was asking about Tairona research, as she was concerned I would not be able to read anything she had to offer. I expressed much gratitude for her long efforts in finding me resources, that I was able to translate, and she seemed thoroughly informative about the Tairona and its four modern day descendants, the Kogi, Arcuchos, Wiwa and Kankuamo.

Later I met the Colombian, Frank, who I went to salsa with two nights before. Over some games of pool he told me his heritage was fully Indigenous to Colombia, which surprised me because my studies in Latin America taught me 90% of the Indigenous perished due to disease, slavery and war, but the Indigenous presence here is strong. He told me he was from the Bucaramanga tribe and asked me why my specialization is the Tairona. I explained that I studied many forms of history over a broad range of cultures, but I was specifically interested in pre-Colombian Colombia because the only difference between Spain and Colombia is the Indigenous.

For reference, this is the one of the four Indigenous groups that descendant from the Tairona, the Arcuchos. I plan to live with them for a while next month. The Tairona who built the Lost City is perished.

September 9

I took a bus to Villa de Leyva to break up a long bus ride to Barichara. Since I had nothing planned when I arrived in Colombia other than living with the Arcuchos and possibly going to the Amazon river, I had a hard time trying trying to figure out where to go from Bogota. My Dutch friend who I worked on a farm with in Romania told me she travelled Colombia for six months by herself, and in addition to recommending me the Mamorwa of the Arcuchos, she thought highly of Barichara, which is also coined as the most beautiful colonial town in Colombia. It is quite a trek to get to Barichara from Bogota, so I'm breaking up the trip in Villa de Leyva. It was my first time seeing the Andes on the bus to this town. Even though the busses here are notoriously rough, bumpy and windy, it was compensated for the captivating and dramatic landscapes. A plane would have been almost just as cheap and way more time efficient, but it is not about the destination, it's about the journey right? I was also entertained by the bus driver giving a two hour pitch of the aloe cream he was selling, accompanied with the views of the wild aloe plants of the Andes. When I arrived in the colonial town of Villa de Leyva, I was surprised how much the Spanish stomped on these lands in their "civilizing" mission. Although I do enjoy these small quaint Colonial towns, because it reminds me of how I was inspired to travel when I studied abroad in Spain with Mr. Dan of North Island College. The white Spanish style buildings and cobblestone streets of Villa de Leyva, surrounded by the Andes mountains is a stark contrast to Bogota. Here the receptionist says I can walk around safe like I'm back home. I do feel more safe here than Bogota, and actually when I compare the two cities Bogota is a shithole, similar to many of the prairie towns of Canada.

September 10

My experience in Villa de Leyva, along with Bogota and my trip so far has been rather lonesome, other than my three Spanish friends I met in Bogota. I was expecting to meet more people like I did on my other solo trips, but due to not meeting a single other foreigner and my lack of Spanish, my current position is inevitable. Travelling Colombia is more off the beaten track than I thought. This experience is teaching me two things: enjoy being alone and learn more Spanish. Upon the receptionist recommendation, I climbed up an Andes mountain with a Jesus statue, which is just as similar as one of the seven wonders of the world, the Jesus statue in Rio de Janeiro in Brazil. The hike was very difficult and tiresome from the altitude and incline. There was not a soul in sight upon the whole climb, and the rest of Villa de Leyva is mostly a ghost town, which is surprising because this beautiful town is what you would find in medieval Spain. If this town was in Europe, it would be crawling with tourists. Since I am by myself, I am forced to talk to other people and I am not in a clique, a pet peeve of mine that people are in a group and only talk to their own kin. Everyday I am learning new Spanish words - a feat I didn't see possible, for the reasons of almost failing my Spanish class in University. For instance, I noticed the locals say "buenos" instead of "hola," and I'm starting to use more complex dialogue, such as "Mi gusto." I think fear and curiosity go hand in hand. We fear what we don't know, but we are also intrigued by it. That's why seeing different cultures is interesting. Going slowly by myself to enjoy the adventure. Ayahuasca is not needed here for me... I already feel like I'm in a trance in Colombia! The news today of Charlie Kirk, along with other world issues had me in a pit of depression, and had to force myself to get off BBC and Instagram. I'm just thankful I survived the jaguars and cartel guerrilas in the wild Andes! Also, at a pizza joint an enthusiastic man from Medellin gifted me an antique Peso note.

**Note: If you noticed, I have been making an entry on this blog everyday. There may be some days that are not as eventful as others. That said, I may skip a day or two and only include the intresting stuff.

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September 11

Some chill days were much needed in a quaint colonial town after the chaos of Bogota. Still in Villa de Leyva, I wanted to see what the hype was all about the patriotism of Antonio Nariño. In the town, there are various statues, street names and hotels in honor of Nariño. Downtown Villa de Leyva is Nariño's former house and now a museum of his significance. I went in but it was all in Spanish so here are my translations: Antonio Nariño is revered as a national hero of Colombia. He was in part responsible for the Colombian Independence from Spain, because of his translation of the French document "The Declaration of the Rights of Man," along with his contribution as a military general against the Spanish monarchy. As a consequence, he was exiled and imprisoned for 20 years. Nariño's most significant contribution to the Colombian Independence was his translation of the French human rights document, and because of his cause he is viewed as a martyr that led to independence. The museum also went over specific idiosyncrasies of the origin and causes of the French "Declaration of the Rights of Man," that included the Mesopotamian Cyprus Cylinder and the United States Declaration of Independence.

The imprisoning of Nariño for translating a document about human rights goes to show magnitude of tyranny the Spanish monarchy operated on. After Nariño was released from prison, he fell ill to tuberculosis and moved to Villa de Leyva for a mild climate and elevation. In his casa, and now the museum, there was also an exhibit that explained its architectural influences. These quaint cobblestone colonial towns with white buildings in Colombia are influenced by the Spanish provinces of Andalucía and Extremadura. Along with the southern Spain style architecture, there are significant Moorish influence in Colombia since Al-Andalus occupied Spain for over 700 years.

Antonio Nariño: "I instinctively hated tyrants. Fighting against them, I lost what I had to. Even my country! When this freedom finally appeared for one who had suffered so much, the first thing he did was drown me with his own hands."

After the Nariño museum, I went to the chocolate museum to learn about Colombia's significant coca bean production.

September 12

At 8am a Villa de Leyva local picked me up on a motorcycle to drive me to Barichara. Instead of taking a 9 hour bus, I opt to pay a little more for the bike, which was a 5 hour ride. We had coffee together but I was afraid he would take off with my bag, money and passport with the bike when he got gas and left me at the Cafe. When he came back it was a sigh of relief, but my fear returned when he gave me a helmet that was too big for the strap didn't fit. I've heard motorcycle crashes happen often in Colombia, or anywhere for that matter, so I had to sacrifice one hand holding the bike to hold the helmet on my head. When I say he was going fast, "muy rapido!" I mean he was ripping: passing everything with wheels and cutting across construction sites. We stopped in a village to have breakfast with his Madre, then continued driving.

My driver Ivan dropped me off in the main square of the most beautiful town in Colombia, Barichara. I checked in and had some beer with Oscar, a brit from the hostel. At sunrise an American girl joined us to a viewpoint on a cliff overlooking the Andes to watch the sunset. The views of the Andes are not only breathtaking, but everywhere you look in Barichara has its own unique beauty. The architecture is similar to Villa de Leyva, but the beauty is only magnified in Barichara.

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September 13

After breakfast Oscar and I hiked 2 hours to a nearby town, Guane. Also a quaint colonial town with nice views of the Andes, specifically the chichamocha canyon, and white buildings with cobblestone streets. Guane is very small and has a humble archeological museam and church that dates back to 1600. If I had it my way I could stay in this village for a whole month. Perhaps even live here and buy a colonial Villa. Oscar and I took a bus back to Barichara since we didn't want to walk for another two hours.

As I ponder my first week in Colombia, and reflect on my other trips prior, I begin to understand various tradeoffs in living in the New World vs. Old World in terms of quality of life. The "New World" usually being referred to all of the Americas, as a former European colonial enterprise, but after visiting a few cities in Colombia, in my opinion the "New World" is only limited to North America in terms of cultural influence. Since Spain established colonial settlements 300 years prior to the English, remnants of an Early Modern Europe exists in the "New World," in Colombia. Although there are many factors that constitute forms of quality of life, including healthcare, education, work-life balance and city infrastructure. I think city infrastructure, and the manner in which a city is built, can dramatically affect one's quality of life. One big takeaway I took from my American history class is during the industrial revolution in America with the first mass produced good a factory being bicycles and subsequently automobiles. With the mass production of cars, strips for cars were replaced with squares for people in America. As a consequence the modern day cities are being built without squares and people are not going outside with friends as much anymore, like they are in the Old Worlds of Europe, Asia and South America. City Infrastructure to accommodate walkability for friends and family to enjoy is one component of quality of life that is missed in the New World. At the same time, to live in a society with strips instead of squares, the trade off is that there is more accessibility to the wide open wilderness of the countryside.

September 20

It's been a week since I posted my last entry because I am still in the most beautiful town in Colombia, Barichara. When I first arrived I only booked two nights, but decided to extend another six. That is the joy of travelling unplanned. If you enjoy a particular place, there is the option to stay longer since you are not under the tutelage of a rigid plan. There has been various forces in Barichara that pulled my gravity to stay. Between relaxing and collecting myself at the viewpoints called, "miradors" of the Andes, and making compadres with the locals, Barichara has treated me well. Incidentally the meaning of the name, "Barichara" is "resting place." I will give a brief recap of my most significant history of the time I spent here before taking a bus to Bucaramanga in order to slowly get to the Tairona Lost City and the Arhuacos culture. I was texting the Arhuacos shamon, known as the "Mamos," on whatsapp that I will arrive in the first week of October. Its surprising an Indigenous shamon who lives without electricity has a phone and textes gringos!

On the 14th I was invited into a restaurant for a fiesta after the police did their rounds and made sure all of the businesses were closed in the sqaure. The police presence is strong in Barichara, which makes the town extremely safe. An observation I made this night is that locals here are more afraid of the police than the cartels. We had some good fun dancing to reggaeton and discussing philosophy until too late. I discovered that me and the chef of the restaurant had matching tattoos of my favorite book, Don Quixote, written by Cervantes in Spain in 1605-15. It is coined as the first and best modern novel ever written. There is also a statue of a former president of Colombia, Belisario Betancur, shown holding a copy of Don Quixote. Also this was the night I met Karen, a local Baricharian. We had a short but sweet summer fling.

On the 15th I cheered on Oscar running a 5k marathon to the finish line, which was a traditional casa in the Andes built out of concrete and bamboo sticks by the indigenous man living there. We tried chocolate-cheese as per the recommendation of a local Baricharian, Laura, who accompanied us at the casa. The Colombian drink of cheese dipped and melted in hot chocolate was strange tasting but good nonetheless. Our host was informing us of the medicinal properties of the ancient practices of chocolate consumption.

The next day I went for an eight course sushi dinner with Karen, the Baricharian I met on the 14th. We drank some sake rice wine, and she had me try a cocktail with these massive ants in them. Eating ants are a staple in Colombia, and they tasted like a potato chip! Karen told me even though they are a staple, they are a delicacy and you can only catch the ants indivually between April and May when they are in full bloom. We went to an indigenous paper factory, where hand crafted plants called fique, and among others including hemp leaves are fermented for over 25 years and pressed into a high quality paper that I was able to purchase some for my myself and my sister. Then Karen gave me a tour of her massive farm in the Andes, where numerous fossils are scattered throughout her land which dates back to when the ocean covered Colombia.

Another note worthy cultural observation is the commitment to catholic church in Colombia. As Karen and I were walking past the main church of Barichara in the sqaure, we were welcomed by the sound of dramatic bell tolls which signified a funeral for the sister of a famous painter. The whole sqaure was guarded with military soldiers with big guns to protect the significant funeral for an important person. While I consider myself an atheist, I respect all religions and some of the customs and the beautiful religious structures that are constructed as a consequence of the theories of the afterlife. Later I experienced more Spanish honkytonks and even though I have been in the country for two weeks, everyday comes with new adventures. The reason why I find everyday life here in Colombia so interesting, in my theory, is due to my exotic perspective that I don't have back in Canada. Karen's twin brother made a similar observation: everyday life in the same place gets tiring due to the mundane dullness of the principal of repetition. The tradeoff is discipline and production when faced with such an environment as a consequence of this adventure.

September 24

Last night I took a bus from Barichara to Bucaramanga. As we were driving, I almost cried because of the extraordinary beauty of second largest canyon in the world, the Chichamocha canyon. I managed to take this shot outside the window of the moving bus:

In Bucaramanga I met up with Andres, a guy I met in Barichara. I spent one night in a dingy hotel then another in his luxury apartment. Among many other architects I met in Colombia, Andres is a successful architect, which makes sense that there are many architects here given the beauty of these quaint colonial towns. Bucaramanga is a green city but is very rough around the edges in some parts. Andres gave me a tour of the city that included going to a rooftop bar with a nice view of the city, and later we tied one on at the disco. We had good talks about the culture and life in Colombia. He says he loves his country, but hates the government.

From Bucaramanga, I was torn between going to Medellin or to live with the Arhuacos peoples in the north of Colombia. Even after two days in Bucarmanga I felt sick of the city already and decided on going north. Yesterday I arrived in Valledupar at 3am after a 12 hour bus ride. Today was unbearable - 41 degree heat, a drastic contrast to the elevated cities in the Andes. Many locals hitherto warned me about the dangerous reputation of the city of Valledupar. Although I am still in one piece, my misadventure today consisted of having my bank account frozen, and being escorted by the three police officers in order to find an international phone number to call my bank. After no luck and no phone no to use, I finally got my bank sorted after having to call my sister in Canada through her laptop to talk to a representative on her phone. I only arrived in this city in order to catch a mototaxi tomorrow morning at my hotel to arrange my arrival at Mamorwa. It will supposedly be a jungle trek to get to as the village is way in the mountains. This experience is the main reason I arrived in Colombia, and that said, I am very excited to live with the Arhuacos peoples. I had a good phone call with one of the former volunteers at Mamorwa, to ask him for advice, and he said to have confidence while also challenging myself through the meditations - to be aware not only externally but internally. I am unsure that I will have service in the mountains, so I made sure to contact my family of my subsequent living conditions.

September 26

Yesterday I was picked up from my hotel with a truck full of people, and the driver insisted that my backpack be strapped in the already-full truck. Initially after leaving Valledupar, I piped up to have my bag in the cab rather than the back. With my legs suffocated from my bag on my lap on the one hour drive from Valledupar to El Molino, I was transfered from the truck to an old jalopy motorbike. I was expecting to have hiked all the way to Mamorwa, but my moto-driver drove me directly to the Indigenous site. With my backpack on the handlebars and me barely hanging on the back, without helmets, we were just ripping through the most treacherous terrain: straight-up incline gravel roads and rushing rivers. There was a few times my driver told me to get off the bike if the water was too deep or hills too steep. I think it was about an hour ride into the jungle of the Sierra Nevada until we reached the Mamorwa village, which is located only some kilometers from the Venezuela border. When I first arrived, I was greeted by the mother of the family and her five kids. She showed me my room (a shack with a hammock), the river nearby to bathe in and a functioning toilet. My first thought was that this set up is similar to glamping, but would I like to be camping my whole life? The first job I was put up to was picking Coca leaves with Loyiana, a nine year old being the oldest of the kids, who was picking them so fast and also chewing them simultaneously. My first meal consisted of a banana soup. There is an abundance of vegetation on the farm such as fruits, coca leaf and cocao bean, along with various livestock such as chickens, but the diet is mostly vegetarian. This family lives off the land. As I finished eating the banana soup I was invited to the circle fire.

In the morning I was awaken by a seven year old boy to take me to the mountains. Me and the boy went way up in the Sierra Nevada for about three hours for what I though was meditation but in actuality it was to herd about ten horses back to the camp. The boy all by himself, along with the dog, herded these horses down the mountain for an hour and a half. I was so impressed that a kid his age is so capable!

Because I don't have service here, I won't be able to post on this blog for about a month, so I am writing this on paper. Thankfully I was able to use the mother's phone to let my family know of my condition. The nine year old, Loyiana, showed me a pamphlet of a master student's thesis of Mamorwa for an anthropological study of the Arhuacos culture. The student primarily wrote about the rituals and daily life here at Mamorwa. Although I find the study of off-the-grid cultures interesting and sometimes valuable, I couldn't help to think about Huxley's book 'Brave New World.' This dystopian novel is set in a future society where technology took over to the extent that nobody feels any negative emotion because of the technology of convenience, and pharmaceutical drugs. In the book, anyone who does not live in the world of technology of convivence, is viewed as a savage. I think a similar setting of this book is the condition in which we are living today. I respect the lifestyle that the Mamorwa Arhucaos choose to live without stimulation of the modern world and I also find this lifestyle better than modernity to live for needs, not wants; and living off the land: worrying about the next meal instead of taxes. I don't think we as a modern society should find this primitive form of living with no electricity so surprising. We were all living this way only some time ago. It feels nice to disconnect. The kids here are friendly and curious about me. I am the only foreigner visiting the family at the moment, and being the only English speaker, it forces me to hone my Spanish skills, but when the family talks amongst themselves, they speak the Arhuaco language, Iku (thank you in Iku is Doonie.)

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September 27

At the fire circle last night, the Mamo gave me the name "Coochie." I'm not sure if he knows the meaning of that name in English... he told me to go up the mountain by myself this morning, which I did. The coca leaf addicted Mamo explained the spiritual value of the Arhuacos ritual. Everyday I must embrace the three elements of "Mother Earth:" fuego, montana and agua in that order. First, fuego is the fire circle at sundown where the Mamo and myself express concerns and ask questions around the fire that produces the smoke of the spirits into the montanas where I wake up at 3am to climb. After coming back from the montana at sunrise, I swim in the Agua river in the gorge of the mountains of the Sierra Nevada. It was pitch black when I climbed the mountains by myself for three hours. In the dark my flash light illuminated two dancing marbles. When I got closer I saw it was a bull. It was at that moment I decided to turn around. As the shades got gradually lighter as the sun was rising, I saw more details of the mountains.

September 28

I was taking a shower in the river when a new volunteer arrived, who startled me because I had been the only forienger there for the past three days, and had been only speaking Spanish. Twenty-one year old Lucas, from Denmark plans to live in Mamorwa for one month and then he will sail across the Atlantic down the Viking route for one year. The three of us; Lucas, Pablodellacruz (the highly capable Arhuaco boy herder) and me were tasked to herd six goats, three horses and ten cows scattered in the mountains and back to the camp. Needless to say Pablodellacruz did all of the work. When we hered all the livestock back to the casa, we discovered we were missing two horses. Drenched in sweat from the full day of herding, the three of us ran back up the mountain to fetch the missing two horses.

October 9

I decided to leave Mamorwa for early for various reasons. I was planning on staying there for one month, but I soon realized that one month is a long time, let alone one week. The day before I left on October 2, the Danish guy Lucas, accidentally hit Pablodellacruz, the eight year old in the head with a manchette. Needless to say I was emotionally overwhelmed by witnessing this event, and filled with some anger after trying to patch up Pablo's severed ear (thankfully it was only his ear). Since the family rejected most influence from the modern world, such as social media, drugs, music, cities and even hospitals, crying Pablo who I insisted needed stitches, was simply dismissed and given a ritual by the Shaman. Also, I felt like I needed to go back to civilization from being practically isolated for a week. Overall my experience living with a traditional Arhuacos family was a very special experience, and when I departed I bought some coffee from the farm, along with two mochilas bags that the mother knitted by hand.

I'd like to share some of my meditations from this retreat:

Some values are indeed superior in Western culture, such as the abolishing of the patriarchy. In this Arhuacos family, the father is not only the spirtual leader shaman, but also the "president" of the chiefdom, while the wife stays at home and only cooks. The Shamon is also 44 and his wife 27 with 5 kids.
The children there, particularly Pablodellacruz and Loyiana, have extraordinary competence and vast skills. Without living in the modern world of technology, other skills are honed that start a very young age. The children are very hard workers and led all of the volunteer work. Even though it may seem like a form of child labor, getting kids to be "useful" and give them structure rather than letting them run wild all time, seems to give them an aroma of joy that you wouldn't find in the modern world.
Be fearless, don't hesitate. Going up to mountains in the middle of the night by myself and jumping in the cold river taught me that there is literally nothing to be afraid of, unless you're being chased down by a bear.
Never undermine peoples individual sovereignty based off trivial reasons. View yourself highly along with other people.

It was refreshing to live with a culture that worships the earth rather than an imaginary fairytale. The shaman told me that everything is alive and everything has a soul. During my meditations, he told me to be awake and pay attention to feel the forces of nature: the wind, sounds of birds and the river and slowly breathing with slow thinking. He gifted me these two bamboo material which the same substance for the head of their broom sticks. The purpose of the material, which was blessed by the shaman, is to sweep and clean the inside of your casa which is your soul. Any bothersome personal or familial history, because the soul is not only personal but a continuation of generations, needs to be swept and cleaned so that everyday life does not have a cause for suffering. Clean and build your casa, your soul, personal and familia. The Arhuacos religion is a practical religion indeed, that is similar to the teachings of Buddhism, which is known as the most practical religion due to meditation and seeking and destroying the causes of suffering, such as the four noble truths: the truth of suffering, the truth of the cause of suffering, the truth of cessation of suffering and the truth of the path of the cessation of suffering.

"If only we could pull out our brain and use only our eyes." - Pablo Picasso

...

I've been living in Palomino for the past week, a small beach town with only dirt roads. When I first arrived I stayed in a beach hostel, but I found the tourists and partying too much for me. At the same time, its interesting to connect with other tourists from around the world. I also got to see Oscar, my friend I met in Barichara again. Now I'm staying in a little bamboo shack just outside the town for the tranquiliy. An Aussie enlightened me recently that the Lost City is closed for all of October, due to a ritual or natural conservation. Seeing the Lost City is necessary for research, so I have no choice but to wait until November. I may stay in Palomino for a while longer, or go to one of the big cities. My friend from Turkey may meet me here so I will give some time and let nature unfold.

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