I'm convinced that if you live a life of adventure, you will never get old. Adventure makes it impossible for that word to conquer your bones, joints, mind, and heart. A heap of situations you wouldn't normally be in, oodles of new places and faces, and a dash of time out of your comfort zone is the perfect recipe for eternal youth. And for my 30th birthday, I managed to cook up that exact recipe.
Two hours from Cali towards the Pacific and through the Andes is a little town named San Cipriano. I had heard about this place and my good friend Sara suggested we go there for my birthday. Afterall, May 1 is Labor Day in Colombia, and we had the day off. So, we hired a driver and 16 of us piled in a van to make the journey.
We left Cali around 7:30am and enjoyed the gorgeous views of the Andes along the way. As I gazed down into the depths of the gorge carved out by Rio Calima hugging the snaky road, I thought about how much I love Cali because of how easy it is to get out of the city and into the mountains. We drank mimosas, snacked on pandebono, and blared 90s music, so we could live vicariously through the words of Radiohead, Eve 6, Alanis Morissette, Matchbox Twenty, and TLC.
Upon arrival to the bridge on the side of the road that you have to cross on your way to San Cirpriano, we could tell it was going to be a busy day! There were people lined up to the highway. Apparently this is pretty rare but because it was a festivo, people were traveling! We got our tickets for the brujitas (10, 000 pesos/person) and crossed the sketchy, wooden plank bridge.
Brujitas are part of the adventure of San Cipriano. The town has no roads going to it and can only be accessed by the old railroad which only has a very minimal amount of trains pass on it in the evening. Therefore, in order to get people there, the native people invented their own form of transportation. Brujitas are essentially a piece of plywood with a dilapidated picnic table attached and a motor bike stuck to one side with the front wheel touching the plywood and the rear wheel touching the track. Essentially, unlike anything you've ever seen before. Possibly comparable to the mining carts that you see in movies but much more unsafe. ;)
We gave a woman our tickets and waited until our number was called. Then, we were off. Breathing in the damp freshness of the jungle calmed my nerves as I clenched Aaron with one hand and clamped on to my seat with the other. Seatbelts? No way. I'm not sure what our top speed was but Aaron seems to think we hit 40 mph at one point. It was a real rush for 15 minutes.
Relieved yet invigorated, we arrived to the small town of San Cipriano. What really brings people here is swimming and tubing down the river. The clear, cool water tumbling over rocks through the jungle is gorgeous and a needed relief from the ridiculous heat and humidity. As we walked through the town, we stopped along the way to enjoy shrimp empanadas and coconut-banana muffins baked in coconut shells. Smells of fresh caught fish cooking over open fires wafted through the air as we made our way to the river. We rented tubes for 5, 000 pesos each (after walking too far, realizing we had to buy them in town and retracing our steps) and took a 30 minute walk to the end of the trail and beginning of our tubing adventure!
The water was the perfect temperature and we had a blast going over the small rapids in our tubes. We passed many people swinging on Tarzan vines and jumping off tree branches into the water. And we even saw a keel billed toucan hover above us! It was the perfect combination of relaxation, fun, and adventure. But little did we know that the real adventure was just beginning.
Aaron and I walked ahead of the group as we were told the last brujita left at 5:00pm because trains started coming after 5:00pm and we wanted to get our number in as soon as possible. We knew that it was going to be more waiting to take a brujita home, but we didn't know how long. As we approached the "line" (Okay, Colombia doesn't have lines---it's almost always more of a free for all) we were given the number 57. They were currently loading number 22 and the brujitas were coming very 30 minutes or so. With number in hand, Aaron and I waited 15 minutes for the rest of our group, but no one came! Aaron ran back to find them and about 10 minutes later came back with our friends following. Apprently they had gone to the wrong brujita station and were literally on a brujita going towards Buenaventura instead of towards the highway where our bus was waiting. Thank goodness he saved them!
After an hour of waiting, the sky looked ominous and thunder rumbled in the distance. But soon we realized it wasn't only thunder rumbling in the distance---it was a train!!! And the group of brujitas should be on their way back to us heading straight for the train. As the train honked, a man on a smaller brujita frantically took off as fast as he could into the darkness to warn the other brujitas to get the hell off the track! Clearly this is why they usually cut off the brujitas at 5:00pm.
About 15 minutes later, it started to downpour. Lightning danced in the night sky and the thunder echoed through the jungle. We made shelter under a tin roof as we waited for the next brujita...sure we would be on it as long as they hadn't gotten smashed by the train. When the group of 8 or so brujitas arrived, instead of people waiting their turn, they just jumped on as the pouring rain seemed to wash away all structure and organization of the process of getting on. It was the group of 16 gringos and a few Colombian families that waited in line, waving our tickets in the air and shouting our number! At this point, the storm was getting worse, and we had already waited 3 hours to get on a brujita. Needless to say, we were not happy. However, we battled our frustration with trying to sing every single song we've ever heard that has the word "rain" in it. It definitely lifted our spirits for a while as we went into our own renditions of "It's raining men!" and "In the early morning rain..."
Finally, at 7:30pm, in the pelting rain and electrifying lightning, all 16 of us got on 3 brujitas to make our journey back to our van. Now, Aaron and I have had points when we've seen our lives flash before our eyes (like riding on top of a bus in Nepal and watching people jump off because they think it's going over the edge of a mountain), and this was definitely another one of these moments. Stripped down to our swim suits and shivering from cold, we flew threw the pitch black jungle being pelted by rain and capturing our surroundings every 20 seconds or so when the lightning lit up the sky. Twice we ran into other brujitas coming straight at us and had to wait as they lifted their plywood platforms off the track so we could get by. Three times our motorbike wheel lost traction and we had to stop, at one point forcing our friend Brian who was riding in the front of the one behind us, to put his feet out and push us as the other motorbike must have had MUCH better tires with actual traction. I left nail marks in Molly and Aaron's skin as I rode in the very front with nothing to hold on to and only the darkness to gaze into. Soaking wet, shivering, and scared for our lives, we finally made it to the highway.
It's in these kinds of moments---when things don't go your way, when your capacity to withstand fear is tested, and when your expectations are thrown out the window---that life happens.
I can't wait to have another 30 years of this life.
Two hours from Cali towards the Pacific and through the Andes is a little town named San Cipriano. I had heard about this place and my good friend Sara suggested we go there for my birthday. Afterall, May 1 is Labor Day in Colombia, and we had the day off. So, we hired a driver and 16 of us piled in a van to make the journey.
We left Cali around 7:30am and enjoyed the gorgeous views of the Andes along the way. As I gazed down into the depths of the gorge carved out by Rio Calima hugging the snaky road, I thought about how much I love Cali because of how easy it is to get out of the city and into the mountains. We drank mimosas, snacked on pandebono, and blared 90s music, so we could live vicariously through the words of Radiohead, Eve 6, Alanis Morissette, Matchbox Twenty, and TLC.
Upon arrival to the bridge on the side of the road that you have to cross on your way to San Cirpriano, we could tell it was going to be a busy day! There were people lined up to the highway. Apparently this is pretty rare but because it was a festivo, people were traveling! We got our tickets for the brujitas (10, 000 pesos/person) and crossed the sketchy, wooden plank bridge.
Brujitas are part of the adventure of San Cipriano. The town has no roads going to it and can only be accessed by the old railroad which only has a very minimal amount of trains pass on it in the evening. Therefore, in order to get people there, the native people invented their own form of transportation. Brujitas are essentially a piece of plywood with a dilapidated picnic table attached and a motor bike stuck to one side with the front wheel touching the plywood and the rear wheel touching the track. Essentially, unlike anything you've ever seen before. Possibly comparable to the mining carts that you see in movies but much more unsafe. ;)
 |
| One of the brujitas that took us to San Cipriano. |
We gave a woman our tickets and waited until our number was called. Then, we were off. Breathing in the damp freshness of the jungle calmed my nerves as I clenched Aaron with one hand and clamped on to my seat with the other. Seatbelts? No way. I'm not sure what our top speed was but Aaron seems to think we hit 40 mph at one point. It was a real rush for 15 minutes.
Relieved yet invigorated, we arrived to the small town of San Cipriano. What really brings people here is swimming and tubing down the river. The clear, cool water tumbling over rocks through the jungle is gorgeous and a needed relief from the ridiculous heat and humidity. As we walked through the town, we stopped along the way to enjoy shrimp empanadas and coconut-banana muffins baked in coconut shells. Smells of fresh caught fish cooking over open fires wafted through the air as we made our way to the river. We rented tubes for 5, 000 pesos each (after walking too far, realizing we had to buy them in town and retracing our steps) and took a 30 minute walk to the end of the trail and beginning of our tubing adventure!
 |
| The science teacher had to get a close look at the invasive giant African snail. |
 |
| Me with my "30" fascinator my friend Imogen made in honor of her Kentucky roots. |
The water was the perfect temperature and we had a blast going over the small rapids in our tubes. We passed many people swinging on Tarzan vines and jumping off tree branches into the water. And we even saw a keel billed toucan hover above us! It was the perfect combination of relaxation, fun, and adventure. But little did we know that the real adventure was just beginning.
Aaron and I walked ahead of the group as we were told the last brujita left at 5:00pm because trains started coming after 5:00pm and we wanted to get our number in as soon as possible. We knew that it was going to be more waiting to take a brujita home, but we didn't know how long. As we approached the "line" (Okay, Colombia doesn't have lines---it's almost always more of a free for all) we were given the number 57. They were currently loading number 22 and the brujitas were coming very 30 minutes or so. With number in hand, Aaron and I waited 15 minutes for the rest of our group, but no one came! Aaron ran back to find them and about 10 minutes later came back with our friends following. Apprently they had gone to the wrong brujita station and were literally on a brujita going towards Buenaventura instead of towards the highway where our bus was waiting. Thank goodness he saved them!
After an hour of waiting, the sky looked ominous and thunder rumbled in the distance. But soon we realized it wasn't only thunder rumbling in the distance---it was a train!!! And the group of brujitas should be on their way back to us heading straight for the train. As the train honked, a man on a smaller brujita frantically took off as fast as he could into the darkness to warn the other brujitas to get the hell off the track! Clearly this is why they usually cut off the brujitas at 5:00pm.
About 15 minutes later, it started to downpour. Lightning danced in the night sky and the thunder echoed through the jungle. We made shelter under a tin roof as we waited for the next brujita...sure we would be on it as long as they hadn't gotten smashed by the train. When the group of 8 or so brujitas arrived, instead of people waiting their turn, they just jumped on as the pouring rain seemed to wash away all structure and organization of the process of getting on. It was the group of 16 gringos and a few Colombian families that waited in line, waving our tickets in the air and shouting our number! At this point, the storm was getting worse, and we had already waited 3 hours to get on a brujita. Needless to say, we were not happy. However, we battled our frustration with trying to sing every single song we've ever heard that has the word "rain" in it. It definitely lifted our spirits for a while as we went into our own renditions of "It's raining men!" and "In the early morning rain..."
Finally, at 7:30pm, in the pelting rain and electrifying lightning, all 16 of us got on 3 brujitas to make our journey back to our van. Now, Aaron and I have had points when we've seen our lives flash before our eyes (like riding on top of a bus in Nepal and watching people jump off because they think it's going over the edge of a mountain), and this was definitely another one of these moments. Stripped down to our swim suits and shivering from cold, we flew threw the pitch black jungle being pelted by rain and capturing our surroundings every 20 seconds or so when the lightning lit up the sky. Twice we ran into other brujitas coming straight at us and had to wait as they lifted their plywood platforms off the track so we could get by. Three times our motorbike wheel lost traction and we had to stop, at one point forcing our friend Brian who was riding in the front of the one behind us, to put his feet out and push us as the other motorbike must have had MUCH better tires with actual traction. I left nail marks in Molly and Aaron's skin as I rode in the very front with nothing to hold on to and only the darkness to gaze into. Soaking wet, shivering, and scared for our lives, we finally made it to the highway.
It's in these kinds of moments---when things don't go your way, when your capacity to withstand fear is tested, and when your expectations are thrown out the window---that life happens.
I can't wait to have another 30 years of this life.
