Puerto Wilches
Trip Start
May 2006
1
14
28
Trip End
Aug 17, 2006
Riohacha, Colombia
Tuesday, August 8, 2006
One of the rooms in building was air conditioned and probably the coldest spot within a 30 mile radius. We spoke with two women who suggested we get in touch with Abraham Cisneros, the local historian. Another woman walked in and immediately she was volunteered to take us to him on her motorcycle. Fernando went first. I walked around the lobby and studied photographs from 60-70 years ago, the town's golden age. She came back and at first she took me to the river and gave me a little tour passing by a ruined hotel and train station. Then we zoomed away from the river, past a funeral procession, and then straight for a little while. The town, which I had thought to be tiny, suddenly grew exponentially as fast as the moto could go. We stopped in front of a high school where Fernando was standing. I figured Abraham was the local history teacher.
He is a bony small man with an elliptical wrinkled face of 63 years that collects sweat. We walked a few blocks and sat down at his patio, which is across the street from a plaza. He showed us a book about the Magdalena, which I had found in the Bogotá library. He had contributed to the Puerto Wilches section. He also had published two small volumes of local history, in poetry form, as he said he could not write in prose. He talked to us about the general history of the town. It used to be an important port along the river, but since steam navigation had stopped over 40 years ago, everything had fallen into the decline. The town used to have some of the best wood to fire the boats. He took us for a walk further east. The town was actually huge, 18,000 and 45,000 in the district. An old airstrip that had been constructed before the one in the departmental capital had became a pedestrian and bikeway. On edge of town was a swamp that looked beautiful but had been stripped of most of its life. An African palm company, with Bogatoan capital arrived, but their wages were so pitiful that one could make more one day fishing than a month of hard physical labor. He said Puerto Wilches hasn't suffered as much as other neighbouring municipalities, because it has always been more agriculturally based, as opposed to fossil fuels or narcotics. However, 6 people were found night one night and he had seen a man recite a poem about his sons. One was a guerrilla killed by paramilitary, and the other a para killed by guerrillas.
Turns out, he is only a security guard at the high school, having received his high school degree ten years earlier. He comes from a family of fisherman, and continues that tradition, though it is harder to harder each year. He is satisfied with his life, mostly because of his three daughters and their children. They all look more African and seem to be the opposite of his physical type. We invited him to dinner and he told me you have to eat fish with your hands and at the end, open up the head and suck out the cerebral liquid. He took us through dark streets and said that even solo women can walk here safely. Fernando was in back pain, enough so he wanted to go the hospital we had seen earlier. They have him a anaesthetic shot in his butt and as we walked outside again, we passed the church, which was about 70 years old. While putting up the cross, the carpenter had fallen to his death. While the electrician was trying to light the cross up, he also mortally fell.
