San Gil: Adventure Sports Capital of S. America
Trip Start
Sep 24, 2008
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75
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Trip End
Jul 21, 2009
San Gil, Santander, Colombia
Monday, July 6, 2009
Reflections on Central Colombia
Mary and I left Villa de Leyva on a microbus to Tunja, along the main road from Bogota-Bucaramanga. While we waited for our four-hour minibus north to San Gil, I argued with the ticket salesman who was about to let some Colombian passengers ride for less than we paid. Eventually, I got my way and it felt great to fit in like a local, conversing entirely in Spanish.
Central Colombia, distinct from the Caribbean coast, has a very authentic Latin American feel in many respects. Outside of the crowded cities, the countryside is composed of family farms and tiny towns. Life in the towns or villages is centered around Catholicism, family and community. Colombian communities are vibrant, with a love for music and a loquacious spirit. Because everyone's ethnicity is a relatively homogenous mixed European and indigenous descent, there appears to be little racism. I was curious what this would be like on the coast, where there are large populations of indigenous peoples and Afro Colombians. I also observed, in both Bogota and Villa de Leyva, that most people give to the poor.
The countryside is also so lush and green. It seems like the entire country is blessed with tropical forests over rolling hills that have since been clear cut for grazing land. It reminds me a bit of the road to Rurrenabaque in Bolivia or the mountainous north of Cambodia and Laos, except with the crucial advantage of paved roads in Colombia. Colombia is not a wealthy country, but infrastructure is excellent throughout the country and relative poverty seems low as compared with some other countries I have visited. I imagine that absolute poverty and sickness are more prevalent in the desolate Amazon Basin region, but this is just speculation and at least in Amazonas there are sparse population and abundant resources.
Small Town Charm of Macondo... I mean, San Gil
We finally arrived in San Gil in the late afternoon of July 4. San Gil is a large settlement with a small town feel and old world charm that is only three hours south of Bucaramanga. San Gil is built along the steep hills that rise from the river banks at the bottom of the valley. We mainly visited to participate in some cheap adventure sports, but San Gil is a typical Colombian town that gave us a sample of normal life outside of the major cities and the coastal tourists spots.
Climbing up the steep cobblestone streets, I had flashbacks to the lung-busting climbs of La Paz. Thankfully, San Gil is not at 4,000m! We checked into the Macondo Guesthouse (which I would soon find, upon completion of Gabriel Garcia Marquez's masterpiece, 100 Years of Solitude, was in homage to the mythical town of Macondo and the Buendias) for a grand total of C$26,000 (USD13). While the Macondo is cheap and a wonderful guesthouse for travelers looking to arrange adventure sports, we unknowingly had also finally found the backpacker scene of Colombia that we had so far successfully evaded. Nonetheless, once we left the guesthouse, we also left the gringo trail behind. Thankfully, tourism development surrounding adventure sports has not yet exploded to the level that the original feel of the town has been irreversibly altered.
Life in San Gil revolves around the large and beautiful Plaza Mayor, directly at the bottom of our hill. In between the Macondo and the Plaza Mayor was 'El Camino Corte', a row of about eight hairdressers, which would provide my last cheap haircut in the developing world for this trip. On one side of the Plaza Mayor is the old two-towered Catedral. Given it was a Saturday night, pretty much everyone in town was out in the Plaza - drinking with their friends, cuddling on a bench or getting ice cream for their kids. I enjoyed a kebab (C$1,000) of the finest street meat I have had in the entire world, while Mary grabbed some mango and we walked the square, passing vendors, shoeshine men, kids riding old Powerwheels-for-hire and everyone sitting around the central fountain, colored by lights. Reminding me of botillon in Spain, the youngsters were boozing up in large groups while strumming guitars and chasing after each other. With a July 4th appetite and based on someone's recommendation, we walked up the hill and enjoyed some massive and delicious Trintario burgers (C$8,500 or USD4.25). What a way to celebrate our 4th of July!
Torrentissimo = Rappelling Down a Waterfall
Thankfully, our fanless and hot room cooled down by morning when we woke up. Looking out our windows, we were gifted with a wonderful view of the entire city and Catedral below. There were not enough people for whitewater rafting, so we decided instead to go torrentissimo for C$35,000 (USD17). We were supposed to leave at 9:30am to make our rappelling appointment at 10:30am.
In typical South American fashion, it was an adventure getting there and we were absurdly late. We were told we just missed the 9:30am local bus that took us to the waterfall. We waited for an hour in the Plaza Mayor and returned to pick up the next bus. We were then told that it was not running because the road was closed (despite being open an hour earlier). No one seemed to know exactly why the road was closed or when it would open again. We walked away dejected, but I thought of an alternate plan and ran back to ask them a question. Somehow, in the matter of those five minutes, the road had opened once again and we were told to board a micro leaving in 15 minutes. One hour later, we were on our way, although Mary and I definitely paid gringo prices (2-3x what the locals paid), which I hate because it was unofficially, shadily and inconsistently charged. It wasn't until about 1pm that we actually reached the spot for torrentissimo. Asi es la vida!
We had to hike about 30 minutes through lush jungle in order to reach Cascada Juan, where we would do the torrentissimo. Warm and sweaty while walking, we noticed the warm change in weather from higher and cooler Bogota and Villa de Leyva. I would soon realize that this was nothing as compared with the Caribbean coast. The area may as well have been called Valle de Mariposas as there were beautifully colored - blues, purples, yellows, oranges - butterflies flying everywhere. Deep into the wide jungle canyon, the massive Cascada Juan tumbles in multiple sections in a splayed bridalveil of water.
Joining us was a middle-aged man from Bogota and his Ecuadorian-American teenage niece and nephew. This was the second time the uncle had rappelled down the waterfall and I was impressed with how fearlessly all three of them did the activity. The 12-year old girl was very cute, talkative and friendly. After chatting during our hike up the jungle hillside taking pictures of the beautiful top bridalveil section of the falls, it was time to gear up and plunge.
It is truly a crazy sensation dropping over the lip of a strong waterfall. We plunged 70m (230ft) down in three stages. While descending, there was water absolutely everywhere. To get a sense, imagine doing an intense activity below the strongest shower on Earth. This puts Kramer's shower head to shame. I was a bit scared at first, staring all the way down (I couldn't even see the bottom as my view was obstructed by the lip of the middle stage) and with my feet constantly slipping on the slick and mossy rock.
While it was exactly the same technique as normal rappelling, it was also an entirely different experience. Before long, I reached the end of the first stage and looked down the sheer vertical waterfall towards the bottom. I swept my fear under the focus rug and ensured that my technique was
efficient and my progress down the rope was smooth. The final portion was an overhang, so I slid down the rope in midair and touched my feet at the base of the falls. As soon as I was down, I wanted to do it again. What a rush. What trust in the equipment. What "Dad would certainly not approve of this".
Cruising the Hills of San Gil
After a refreshing Coke and snack, we caught the bus back into town and decided to hike up to the one of the many crosses dotting the high points and lookouts of San Gil. We moved away from all of the tourist infrastructure and even away from the city center, observing the varying levels of affluence and housing in town. Although we were tourists walking through poor areas of town, we did not receive any dirty looks and the residents were really helpful. The poorest folks lived towards the top of the hill, just as with many South American cities and contrary to most of the developed world.
We reached the cross and shrine at the top of hill, guided by stone sculptures depicting the 13 stages in the Crucifixion of Christ. We were joined only by some local youngsters and couples. We waited out the short rainstorm with gigantic pellets of rain before heading down for dinner. The daily storm, which is pervasive through most of Colombia, is refreshing and nice.
With such a satisfactory dining experience the night before, we returned to Trintario for dinner. The owner was thrilled to have us and we both indulged in bruschetta while I ate a melted ham, cheese, olive and eggplant sandwich of deliciousness and Mary double-downed on the burger from the previous night. After dinner, I met some of the people at the hostel and recruited them for rafting in the morning. There would be no cancellation this time.
Rafting down El Rio Suarez
I said a temporary goodbye to Mary the morning of Jul 6 as she was returning to Bogota to meet a couple of friends visiting from the US. I was sad to see her go, but was ready for some independent travel and would see her again in about a week.
There were 11 people going out rafting that day and we all met at the hotel. There was a group of 6 Irish girls (including Avril the redhead who would ride behind me), Dan (Oz) and three friends, Chris (Col), Diana (US) and Lisa (Holland), who I had met the night before. Most of my fellow rafters were going rafting for the first time, so everyone was quite nervous.
The Rio Suarez is known for its serious rapids (many class 4, 4+ and 5), danger and intensity. It is a river like none I have rafted/kayaked, where the entire river is almost one uninterrupted rapid with differing degrees of white-water. We went with Colombia Rafting Expeditions, who were as professional as it gets in terms of experienced guides who communicate well and are proficient in all safety techniques. Caesar, who would ride in the support kayak, gave the safety demonstration, which was long and intimidating to the neophyte rafters. Basically everything culminated in the following said in a strongly-accented English "When you fall the boat, hold the rope!". My past Boy Scouts experience came in handy (once again), as I was the resident expert, translating and re-explaining all of the safety procedures and commands to the other rafters.
Chris and I were put in the front of our boat, with four girls behind and our guide, Nestor, commanding us from the back. The other boat had Dan up front with four girls and their guide. Nestor, an incredibly ripped, good and fun guide, watched our backs all day long and thank god he was with us. As we began, I introduced everyone to the concept of boat wars while rafting. What ensued during any remotely calm (ie not a massive rapid) stretch of water were insane splashings of each other. We quickly practiced our commands and were off.
These were serious rapids. On every river I have been on, there is risk and danger, but I have never been ordered to sit on the inside of the boat. Also, while it is important that we all paddle, I generally have felt that if we all failed at our tasks, our guide could steer us through a rapid without a problem. On this river, Nestor was constantly screaming at the top of his lungs "Left Front, Right Back", "Forward, Forward Forward!", "Backward, Backward!", "INSIDE, INSIDE, INSIDE!". On several occasions, Avril, playing the concerned mother, almost yanked
me inside the boat when I was late responding to an "INSIDE!" command
and was still paddling. It was intense, requiring tons of focus and causing a lot of stress. I have frequently heard surfers describe their addiction to their sport
as driven by the intense focus their sport requires; perhaps it is for a similar reason that I enjoy adventure sports.
It was also an extreme amount of fun. The river carves through some beautiful country, which we barely glimpsed in between averting chaotic disaster through the rapids. Many of the waves were at least one-story high, and we would get drenched while pitching up and down as though the raft was a seesaw with the fulcrum in the middle. One of the coolest feelings on earth is paddling hard at the front of a raft that is barreling down in a near vertical nosedive towards the base of a rapid! At one point, the raft ahead of us was stuck in the rip-current of a rapid with us slingshot at full speed by the rapids towards them. Both of the guides did their best maneuvering to avoid a collision, but the other raft lost one of their passengers in the process. As Dan later explained to me: "I saw someone floating down river, so I looked back to my guide to await further instruction and go pick up our fallen comrade. I then realized that it was my guide who had fallen out!"
After a great riverside snack served up on Caesar's impromptu-table/overturned kayak, we hit the river and prepared to navigate the Class 5 rapid. This is the highest class of navigable rapid in the system; any higher and it is Niagara Falls. It was absolutely epic. I have never seen so much water stewing, foaming and breathing in multiple directions. It was an endless rapid, not just one quick, but tough stretch. We somehow all made it through intact, but there was one time where the entire boat almost got flipped on a rock and several times where we almost got tossed from the boat! The commands were no joke here and were absolutely necessary to avoid serious problems. If we weren't paddling, Nestor would be able to do nothing to avert a disaster. Despite the danger and fear level, I wanted to run it again immediately after we had passed through the rapid. Unfortunately, our expedition ended far too soon (as time usually flies when you are having a blast) where the two rivers converge and continue flowing all the way back through San Gil. What a great time; if you haven't done a ton of rafting in the past, make sure you hit the Rio Suarez (C$120,000 or USD60).
Immersion is the Best Way to Learn a Language
On our ride back to San Gil, I rode up front with Chris. A 19-year old psychology student from the upper class of Bogota, I enjoyed an incredibly engaging and intelligent discussion that was both mentally stimulating and an excellent pseudo-exam in conversational Spanish. There is simply no better way to learn a language than immersion. Entirely in Spanish (albeit with Chris humbly accepting my busted Spanish and terrible conjugation), we spoke of our girls, the beautiful girls of San Gil (just because you are on a diet doesn't mean you can't look at the menu), work and his interest in psychology.
As with any conversation with me, the topics shifted towards politics and economics and began with a lengthy discussion of President Alvaro Uribe, his past, the country's future and his popularity. Chris pointed out that there has been a great reduction in violence throughout the country as compared with the previous 50 years, which is incredibly important and laudable and a source of massive popularity for Uribe. However, with the guerrilla problem much smaller than it used to be, Colombia needs to focus on her other problems and Chris mentioned that many Colombians feel there is too much money spent on policing and military and not enough spent on education and other social programs.
Quid pro quo meant that I explained the popularity, appeal and reality of Obama as President of the US and the tough problems on his plate. We discussed climate change and the need for a sensible renewable energy policy and the problems related to the price elasticity of demand for gas and oil. I learned that it costs less than USD1 to fill up a tank of gas in Venezuela! This would have been a great discussion in English and I was so proud to have had it entirely in Spanish without ever formally learning the language.
Giving to Beggars?: An Anecdotal Experience
Upon return to San Gil, Chris, Diana, Lisa and I enjoyed a traditional Colombian meal of grilled meat, plantains, rice and potatoes while continuing our discussion. Now in English, I spoke in great detail about my experiences and thoughts on India, her beautiful qualities and
her myriad problems. The discussion of India brought us to our views on beggars and how they should be treated.
Lisa just had an experience in northern Colombia where she was scolded by others at a restaurant for offering food to a young boy who was begging. They all called the police and asked Lisa to decide what to do with the child. The government of Colombia started a program several years back where impoverished children can enroll in a fully-subsidized boarding school. While this is a great program, several problems have emerged including tearing children away from their families to the detriment of both (psychological for the child and economic for the family that just lost an important earning resource) and abuse of the social welfare system.
There are always risks with social welfare programs and rewarding begging in general as it can be psychologically dangerous since it creates dependence.
I shared stories of my experiences with beggars in India and some of the countries from SE Asia. I don't believe that it is innate for human beings to be dependent as we originally had to fight for survival either on our own or amongst a small family or community. Empowerment and teaching are much better "welfare" programs than pure handouts (which is what the Colombian system is trying to achieve) as the handouts don't solve the root causes, but simply put a band-aid over them. The ineffectiveness of the Zero Hunger program in Brasil is an example of a poor social welfare program. However, I'm not an expert, so these are just my thoughts.
Fighting Gringo Prices in South America
Unfortunately, all great conversations must come to an end and I said bye to my friends and killed some time on the internet at the hostel as I waited to catch my bus. Chris, the good guy that he is, sprinted back up the hill to give me my correct change from lunch. I hope to see him again.
I took a cheap taxi to the bus stand and engaged in bitter negotiation over my bus fare. Thankfully, I received intelligence from the Irish girls on my rafting trip that the bus fare from San Gil to Santa Marta is C$55,000. When I arrived at the ticket counter I was offered C$85,000 (USD43). I eventually paid C$60,000 (USD30) and my ticket said C$50,000 (USD25). I have no problems with different prices or foreigner prices, but make it explicit and post it on a board. I also have no problems negotiating for things, but there are places where that is not appropriate. I believe bus tickets are one of those, but alas, I am in South America!
I knew immediately that I was bound for the Caribbean coast as half my bus was of African descent. The 13-hour ride was relatively comfortable and soon enough I would be on the sweltering coast.
Comments
Just been in San GIl and found one of the best hostels in colombia , Sam's Hostel in the main square very cheap , like £4 per night and the views are amazing cuase you are in the top floor, highly recommended.
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