After some 11 hour bus ride, we came to Cienaga, and had a really goofy bus move around in the middle of a very dusty, roudy city with lots of street vendors and peddy cabbers and such. After trading busses twice, we were headed to Santa Marta with quite an entertaining bus assistant who would call out the destination and sing to all the girls in the street as he hung out of the bus entrance door. I began running my fingers through my matted hair from the bumpy bus ride and my sleeping head rubbing all over the chair, only to look over to Sarah and a Colombian guy next to her giggling as I looked cross-eyed at the nearly dreaded piece of hair I would pull to the front of my face. Anyways, we finally arrived to Taganga after some 13 hours of bussing. It is a beauitful little beach town that has thousands of tourists and so locals here are always ecstatic when I can actually translate clearly, not only for my two buddies, but for others when necessary. So, we arrived to the cute hostal, and of course, my first translation has to do with the managment and some drunk idiot foreigner because they were demanding he pay a fine for having jumped in the pool at 6 am while it was being treated, and he refused, ended up jumping off the balcony of his room and running away without paying....Anyways, I then met a very very sweet Argentine from Salta, the northern region, who invited us to come hang out where he is camping tonight. In the next couple of days we will be heading to Parque Tayrona, where some of the most beautiful beaches of Colombia are, SO EXCITED!!! I am quite tired of writing, but all I can say is that I am learning every day to fall in love with what is being offered to me, to let go of my expectations of what something should be worth, or be upset with what I´m getting for what I payed, and learning that it is ALL part of the adventure. There has not been one dull moment here, and I look forward to my journeys ahead. sooooo much love to you all, I hope it will rain soon!
Continued...
So I left on the note of being invited to go hang out at a different hostal in Taganga where lots of the vagabond type artesanos stay, some for up to 3 months some for shorter amounts of time, but most importantly, I knew there would be a guitar there! So we went down to the extremely limited grocery store of Taganga to stock up on supplies for our next adventure to Tayrona National Park, and get beer for the night. But of course, on our way walking to our friend´s hostal, we found a super sweet little hut/bar that had 2 for 1 drinks, and drinks they were! The best I had ever had, so we got some ginger mojitos with fresh mint and ginger, margaritas de maracuy (a local fruit), and blackberry daquiris for 3 dollars a piece, yummmmy :). That hostal had a much less touristy vibe than ours which i liked immediately. We went and spent some time there were we met some 5 or 6 Argentines which was really nice for me. One girl named Paz from Buenos Aires was really sweet and in awe of how much I spoke like a Portena (someone from Buenos Aires). We stayed there for a while then decided to head down to where the artesans hang out on the main road to ask the guitar owner if we could play it. We ended up staying there for a while, watching a woman practicando la tela (an art of arranging silk ropes that hang from a tree in certain folds and directions to keep you suspended in different positions).It was so wonderful to be present in this artsy community, all i felt that I was lacking was my hula hoop...It was also very interesting to be spending time with people who live with such little money but so much enthusiasm and life. Nick and Sarah headed home and I returned to spend some more time with the wide array of young artesans from all over south america, teaching them the little bit of Acro Yoga I know and in return getting a quick lesson on the silks. We headed up to their hostal afterwards, where I played some songs that no one could understand, which was GREAT! I never realized how fun it is to sing when no one can understand you...After I finished playing, I made eye contact with a guy lying in a hammock across the way, one who had come busking for donations playing his cumbia tunes on his little classical guitar at the hut restaurant next to the beach where we had eaten earlier that day. Within fifteen minutes of talking, he was stroking my hand telling me about how he had been awoken by an angel singing and that he was totally ¨enamorado de mi¨ or in love with me, haha! So I grinned as this silly latino was attempting to convince me to stay with him. However, he sweetly walked me back to my hostal and the following morning we headed to Parque Tayrona.
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