Looking at my map of Colombia one day in October, I pondered aloud on the phone to fellow Fulbrighter Gabriel Hurst, asking "where to for a memorable Colombian New Year's Eve?" For those who like seafood, one choice stands out among the rest.
Around 625 km (just under 300 miles) north of Colombia's second highland capital, Medellín, lies a very different Colombia. Protruding into the Caribbean Sea in the heart of the lowlands, humid and dusty, lavishly wealthy but desperately poor, rich with colonial history and livened by a concentration of animated Afro-Colombians, Cartagena de Indias, the capital of Bolívar department, is one of the oldest cities in the Americas. Named a World Heritage Site by the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO), Cartagena is a place where the clash between 500-year-old Spanish ideological and economic colonization and the resilience of the Indigenous and Afro populations is still shockingly apparent.
Fellow Fulbrighters Gabriel Hurst, Stephanie Claytor and I were all due to arrive in at Cartagena's Rafael Nuñez International Airport on separate flights from Bogotá, Cleveland, and Medellín, respectively. Upon landing, the sweaty and salty smell of the Caribbean infiltrated my nasal passageways and I could tell that this place would have a unique feel. Immediately I started to break sweat through my long jeans, the more formal attire of a paisa, and looked around and could tell this would be board short and flip-flop territory: I estimate it must have been 90 degrees with 80 percent humidity. It felt something akin to Washington DC in June, but infused with palm trees and ocean trade winds. I glanced upon a couple of ads for condos in luxury high rises and did a double take, thinking I might be back in Panama City. As the first of our trio to land, I went to check out the lodging situation. My arrival at our planned hostel, Chill House, in Cartagena's downtown colonial district, the Old Town, was, naturally, beset by disorganization and unpunctuality. Gabriel, Stephanie and I had made reservations at Chill House, a backpackers' joint in the center of the Old Town, back in November. But I came to learn that though we had received a deposit receipt weeks ago, an irresponsible receptionist had disappeared our papers, so we had zero, zilch beds for the next three days. (I soon also learned this young lady had only managed to stay employed for one week: yes, there is still a Dirty War in Latin America--on hosteler's accommodations!) From there I teamed up with my new Irish companion, Sarah Murray, regrettably caught in the same exact position, to whimsically track down what might have been the last vacant, reasonably priced room in high-season Cartagena, in the house of a local family down the street...
It's funny how Colombia teaches one to think nothing of, and in fact chuckle at, errors in business administration. Sarah and I brushed aside the mishaps and at once were on to hunt for mangos. I was instantly fascinated by my acquaintance with Cartagena, a city where the old melts into the new with style and mystique. The two "downtown" areas stand in jagged contrast to one another: the stone walls of the Ciudad Amurrallada, or "Walled City," otherwise known as the "Old Town," encircle narrow cobblestone paths and outrageously colorful buildings dating back to the days of the traditional Spanish monarchy. Those walls also form an intimidating stronghold built by the Spanish for protection against invaders from the end of the 16th through the beginning of the 19th century. The Walled City boasts many top-end boutique hotels, restaurants and historic museums. And, of course, as one of the major sites of the Spanish inquisition, the city has its decent share of towering churches formed mostly in the early 17th century. Descending from there about a mile southward along the coastal route, Avenida Santander, the visitor confronts a very distinct--but equally magnificent--neighborhood, Bocagrande. There, several luxury apartment high-rises, strip malls, and swanky restaurants loom over the Caribbean, looking remarkably reminiscent of South Beach, Miami. And just aside that skyline sits the city's major port, perhaps the third busiest in the Caribbean.
Merely a three-day stay in Cartagena de Indias was enough to convince me that this is one of two most beautiful cities I've visited in the Americas. The other, of course, is the capital of my home state in Brazil, Salvador da Bahia. (I'm leaving out the much more massive Rio in a league of its own.) In many ways I continue to find the two cities, both containing major protective fortresses from the colonial days, striking in their geographic layouts. Just have a look at the number of inlets and bays encircling the Cartagena's Old Town and see what I mean:
But what is perhaps more intriguing about Cartagena is its economic paradox. On the one hand, it is known by some as the most expensive and luxurious city in Colombia, a place where celebrities and businesspeople from domestic locations and abroad come live the high life--playing on the beach, eating world class cuisine, attending sophisticated music festivals, and raving all night at ludicrously expensive beachfront electronica clubs. But if one ventures inland, away from the coastal sanctuaries of the Old Town and Bocagrande, he or she will encounter the developing world in all of its grime, congestion, bustle, and poverty. I had the chance to see the latter half while accompanying Stephanie Claytor, my friend and fellow Fulbrighter, on an hour-long bus ride southeast to the major local bus terminal. Bumping along in the bus, stuffed into a turtle's-paced bottleneck, I was startled to watch the wide, California-style concrete avenues of the center turn into the overgrown dirt paths of the periphery. Potholes, heaps of trash, chaotic traffic and buzzing flea markets covered much of the route to the torrid and disorderly bus terminal. There, the Mustangs and Land Cruisers with Bogotá license plates of Bocagrande had disappeared, designer sunglasses were nowhere to be found, and there was no Lacoste shop in sight. Instead, the population was much blacker, informal street vendors flourished, and social reality was tangibly more difficult. On my short trek into the "Real Cartagena," it crossed my mind several times that I would not be surprised if statistically the city is amongst the most unequal in the Western Hemisphere...
A bouncing bus journey along the rising and falling urban cascades of Cartagena was enough to leave me starkly reminded of the severe contrasts that exist in Colombia, the world's 9th most unequal society by family Gini coefficient (just a place more unequal than--you guessed it!--Brazil). But nowhere is likely as different from Cartagena's trendy tourist bastions as Palenque, a small village to the Southwest originally formed in the early 18th century as a runaway slave refuge. There, deeper into the Caribbean jungle, Stephanie, Fulbright Colombia's Syracuse grad and up-and-coming journalist, traveled to do a report about the state of Afro-Colombian life on the coast. (I remorsefully must admit that while I meant to join her for this six-hour outing, by the time I got to the bus depot I chickened out in the overwhelming heat; instead of staying for a two-hour-each-way bake on the bus, decided to head back to catch a breeze by the beach.) Amid the mud streets of Palenque, for the second time Stephanie observed traditional Afro-Colombian dances. She listened to the residents speak their creole language, Palenquero, which sounds to me something like a blend of archaic Spanish, Haitian French, and Portuguese. I missed out on a trip that I think should have made for a nice respect paying to my Afro-Latino heritage. But I promise that I will make it to kneel on the soils of Palenque in my lifetime.
A nice report about Palenque, even containing an audio snippet of Palenquero, can be found here: http://www.smithsonianmag.com/travel/Colombia-Dispatch-4-Palenque-An-Afro-Colombian-Community.html#.
A great bang-for-buck snippet about Cartagena de Indias I've found so far online comes courtesy of UNESCO: http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/285/
Coming away I know that Cartagena has added new validity and meaning to the Colombian Ministry of Culture's slogan "Colombia es pasión." Surely a place of extremes, it is also a place that allows one to breathe more deeply and realize how impressively humankind can blend its constructions into nature. No doubt, this will not be the last of my encounters with the place sometimes nicknamed The Heroic City, The Door of the Americas, The Capital of the Caribbean.
At Medellín's José María Córdova airport boarding AIRES, the most "punctual" airline in the Western Hemisphere, on my way up north to CTG
Immediately upon arrival, feeling the heat and humidity, I could tell Cartagena's posher districts are in business to attract those looking for resort-style living... I felt like I was in Panama City all over again!
Lush courtyards like these, outside of my originally booked hostel, Chill House, were built all over the Old Town, reminding of the traditional styles of southern and eastern Spain
Just after arrival in the Old Town, beginning the delicate process of picking the perfect mango
...Still intently searching...
SUCCESS!
And here is the grand result! Extra lemon, light on the salt, por favor.
With it being New Year's week, probably every hotel and youth hostel in the city was slammed. These are the modest digs my new friend Sarah and I managed to find around the corner from Chill House...
...Toilet and shower in one three-by-two foot room, serving eight guests in the hallway... Just as long as I can pour cold water on myself three times per day to mitigate this intense humidity, sign me up!
One angle of the stunningly illuminated Cathedral of Cartagena
Gabriel and I doing what we do best: hunting for new Colombian discoveries
I even jumped back upon first glance of the most realistic looking stuffed cow I've come across in my life!
A lesson in colonial era acting: Sparking gunpowder at the fortress deck beside Café del Mar, fending off the English invaders!
Holiday season glow was everywhere to be found across the Old City
New friend and fellow hosteler Sarah Murray of Ireland
Settling into the Caribbean groove of Cartagena de Indias, one much more laid back than the feel of Colombia's highlands
Digging into shrimp ceviche cocktails became one of Gabriel's nightly habits
A statue honoring Spanish explorer Pedro de Heredia, founder of Cartagena in 1533, a time when initially it became the most important port town in the "New World"
Whoops! What happened to the asphalt here?
One of Cartagena's humbler, and dare I say flooded, neighborhoods... Getting my first taste of the Heroic City's drastic inequality
A couple of miles to the southeast of the Old Town sits the Castillo San Felipe de Barajas, a menacing fortress completed in the mid-17th century to honor King Philip IV of Spain
Naturally, the Fulbrighters decided to take over the Castle for the day
Atop San Felipe de Barajas, reaping views of Bocagrande down the way, feeling free and in awe, trying to make sense of Cartagena's architectural paradox
The once ominous cannons of the castle are now antique reminders of a different world order...
Inside the storage receptacles of King Felipe's Castle, Gabriel and I realized that these were obviously not made to house lanky African American men of the 21st century...
Stephanie, Gabriel, and local cartagenero friend Wilson Ramirez Rodriguez inside the Castle's granaries playing... Telephone?
The once impregnable, canon-strapped walls of the Old City
Taking a moment to hang with some palenqueras selling sweets in the streets of the Old Town
Zooming around by bus, getting another dusty taste of the "Real Cartagena"
Again, less asphalt out here...
The "Real Cartagena" brims with bustling forms of informal entrepreneurship
"We are all Colombian," indeed. Even with the trade winds blowing, I was thankful to see this shot come out so clean.
The Port Society of Cartagena de Indias is among the five busiest in the Caribbean
Stopping by one of several carts of grapes in the Old Town on New Year's Eve
Make sure to eat exactly twelve to bode a successful new year!
More tributes to the city's Spanish founders
Heading into 2011 awaiting a dinner of crab and shrimp, cartagenero style
The rich, famous, and fun-seeking gathering to feast in inside the walls of the Old City on New Year's Eve
Bling bling!
And who would have thought that stumbling into the courtyard of Media Luna hostel on NYE we'd run into these Brazilian hooligans!? An instant night-maker!
Pushing an international parade of hostelers through the jam-packed streets of the Old Town, 11:55 pm on December 31st
Bring out the maracas: Celebrating midnight with new friends from around the world. No better way to begin the second half of my grant period!
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