Colombia: Day 3: Santa Marta

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Ali and I woke up the next morning and went downstairs, where we had coffee, curried scrambled eggs, and toast with an assortment of jams. We packed up our things, thanked Oscar for a wonderful time, said goodbye to Max, and trekked back through the jungle to Liseth’s. We got lattes, sat around with Ali’s friend Joe, and hung out on the front porch of the shop. Ali showed me Quinoa’s party trick: when you play the harmonica, she howls madly along, as if she’s trying to sing with it. It was the cutest thing.

Then we took motorcycles back down (at this point I basically felt like a pro), then taxis back into town. On the way down the mountain I definitely saw a family of four packed onto a single motorcycle. I guess you do what you gotta do to get around! Once back in Santa Marta, we went to Exito, the grocery store, to get supplies for lunch. We ate another new fruit on the way back called mamon. They’re these ping pong ball-sized green things that grow on branches, and you pluck them off, pop them open, then suck the gooey meat off a marble-sized seed inside. It was a very strange texture, but a really good flavor.

When we got back to the apartment, Ali and I made jugo (juice) out of lulo, another fruit. Lulos are orange, a little smaller than a tennis ball, and have a light prickly fuzz on the outside. The insides, though, are bright lime green! We scooped out the flesh, and put it in the blender with water, sugar, and ice, then frothed it all up and strained it. It was very refreshing, and a little tart. The closest thing I can think to equate it to is a kiwi. We also ate a snack that involved buying lime peanuts (think roasted peanuts covered in the same stuff you see on lime Tostitos) then topping them with a little hot sauce, stirring it all up to coat the peanuts, then eating it just like that. The peanuts were awesome on their own, but even more strangely addictive with the hot sauce!

Alfonso came over, and we started cooking lunch. Lunch is a big deal in Colombia, bigger than dinner. The thought of eating a big, hot meal in the middle of the day in that weather made no sense to me, but oh well. We had curried vegetables, arroz de coco, patacones, and the lulo juice. The curried vegetables Ali made with a curry sauce she had bought from Adam in Minca. Arroz de coco, coconut rice, was a very elaborate and lengthy process, that is apparently one of Alfonso’s specialties. He began by roasting the coconut over an open flame on the stove, which made it easier to crack open on the pavement outside. Then he grated the flesh on a box grater and put the pieces into a blender. He blended it all up into a near-liquid, then passed it through a fine sieve into the pot in which the rice would eventually (eventually!) be cooked. He cooked this processed coconut liquid (the solids no longer had any flavor) down until it shimmered a little like an oil. Then, finally, he added rice and water and cooked it as normal. It tasted delicious, but what a process! And that doesn’t even include the patacones! Patacones can be made with either bananas or green plantains (we used the former). You cut them in half so that you have two shorter pieces. You fry them in oil until they’re lightly golden, then take them out. Then you use this contraption that is basically two small pieces of wood connected by a hinge, but is officially known as a patacones-maker, to smoosh the fried banana into a pancake. Then back into the oil it goes until it’s nicely fried. You don’t really put anything on it, just a little salt, then eat it with your hands. Alfonso joked that oil is the most common ingredient in Colombian food... The three of us sat outside while we ate our lunch and drank our jugo.

We finished lunch in time for Ali to take me to Colombia Sin Fronteras (Colombia Without Borders, the school where she volunteers). To get there, we took a 30 minute bus ride to Valle de Gaira, the next town over on the other side of the mountains. Then we got off the bus and took a motorcycle to the school. Only hitch was that there was only one moto available, Ali said he was sort of a crazy driver, and I was wearing a skirt! But on we both squashed and off we went.

The ride was short, maybe five minutes, as we zipped down a bumpy dirt road through the small village that the school kids come from. As far as I could gather, it wasn’t much more than a single road with small one- or two-room houses clustered together. I was beginning to realize that small, colorful homes are the norm for many of Colombia’s poorer communities. The school was just what you might picture when you think of a school in a third-world country where 20-somethings come to volunteer. It was a single-story concrete, three room block building in the middle of a dusty clearing. It was art day at school, and the kids were making paper boats with pre-drawn templates. They had to color the boats, cut them out, then fit them together. Only problem was that the system of slots and tabs was really complicated! Even the volunteers (Ali and her friends) had trouble getting them to stay; some resorted to glue. Even though the project was a little frustrating, it was fun to hang out with the kids. Ali asked some of the kids if they thought we looked alike, and they said yes, except that I was whiter (Ali’s gotten pretty tan, but is still pale by Colombian standards).

After school was over, we got drinks at a tiny shop nearby (Ali and I got 8oz Pony maltas!) then walked back to the bus stop. On the bus ride back, Ali and I got to sit in the two seats next to the driver (between the doors and the windshield), so it was fun to get to look out. The driver was kind of driving like a maniac and almost missed our stop, but we eventually made it back to Santa Marta in one piece. Ali and I walked down to the beach, which is only four blocks from her apartment. We dipped our feet in the water, watched the sunset, and walked along the beach stopping to browse at the vendors and get snacks. I had a new jugo (juice) made of tomate de árbol (tree tomato), which was a milky kind, and quite tasty. The fruit looked sort of like a plum tomato, but with a stem coming out of the top. We also got a tinto, which is an espresso-sized cup of hot, sweetened black coffee, and we got what may have been one of my favorite snacks: green mango with lime juice, salt, and pepper (for only $1mil, or about 70 cents!). The vendor was very nice and when Ali asked if he could make it for us fresh (rather than buying one that had been sitting around), he insisted on walking over to a fountain and washing his hands first. Green mango has a texture almost like a crisp apple. I realized that there aren’t any foods in the US that we eat at different stages of ripeness. But in Colombia, they do that with many kinds of produce; green mangoes aren’t a different kind of mango than what we’re used to, they’re just not ripe yet. Same thing with green plantains versus ripe plantains. Why haven’t we caught on to that here? Same food, just cooked or prepared differently.

On our way back to the apartment, we met up with some of the other volunteers sitting outside at the bakery around the corner from their place and sat around for a bit. Then we went home, got ready to go out, then left. We first went to Bonnie and Clyde’s for micheladas, which is a drink Ali had been telling me about for a loooong time. It’s a beer (any type, usually light) with lime juice, salt and pepper, and hot sauce. The rim was salted, too. It was definitely strange, but oddly refreshing. And easy to recreate at home! While we were sitting outside with drinks, Lola of course found us and stayed with us until we made it to our next destination. While sitting outside we also met up with Rachel and Jorge, two of Ali’s other friends in town.

Our light dinner at Bonnie and Clyde's left me hungry, so we went to this one block where all of the street carts set up for the night. Unfortunately there’s not too much veggie-friendly street food (unless I want inch-thick arepas, which are just dry and bland), so I got salchipapas, which is a platter of french fries covered in cheese, lettuce, tomato, “pink sauce” (mayo & ketchup), and hot dog (salchicha), but I got it without the meat. So I ate salchipapas without the salchicha, which I’m sure confused the vendor, but oh well.

Next we went to La Puerta, Ali’s favorite bar, which just so happens to also be where Alfonso works, because it’s just what you do on a Thursday / Friday / Saturday night (Lola escorted us there). At La Puerta we sat out in their back porch and had frozen margaritas de maracuya (passionfruit), which were delicious. Ali told me that the first time she had one, she cried thinking about how much I’d like it. Also that she was PMSing at the time. We spent the night dancing (sometimes salsa) and drinking margaritas and had a lovely time. Alfonso calls ali “honey,” and on the way out he called me “sister honey,” which was very cute. On the way back with Ali’s roomies we stopped at a street cart for pizza. I’ve never seen pizza cooked on the street, but this guy had a little oven set up on his cart. I got the sense that he was sort of creepy, but also totally harmless. He also insisted on getting all four of us chairs while we waited for the pizza to reheat (none for me, though, because it all had meat). We finally made it home and collapsed in bed.