Futsal?

We know football and futbol and even foosball...but futsal?  I can't say I had ever heard of it either! But last night I found out because Cali, Medellin, and Bucaramanga are hosting the FIFA Futsal World Cup 2016.

Futsal is basically soccer except it is played in a venue more similar to a basketball court than a soccer field.  Each team has four players plus a keeper in play and they can sub players in and out at anytime.  They also use a smaller, heavier ball which keeps the ball on the ground for most of the game.  There are two-20 minute periods and time is stopped whenever the ball is out of play.

We went to the first elimination game of the tournament: Colombia vs. Paraguay.  The game was extremely fast-paced.  I was told that futsal tends to be higher scoring than regular soccer games but that certainly wasn't true last night.  Colombia spent the first 20 minute half on the defensive but managed to keep the score 0-0 at halftime.  The second half was just...plain...ridiculous.  Each team had an incredible amount of chances but couldn't capitalize on any of them!  The game went into overtime, was decided by penalty kicks, and Paraguay ended up winning by one goal.  It was a fun way to spend a Tuesday night!

Cali Hash House Harriers

Yesterday we hosted the first ever Cali hash!  A "hash" is a run/scavenger hunt/party.  Basically, the “hashers” follow a trail of chalk or flour (2-5 miles or 3-8 kilometers) set by the “hare” to a Hash Bash celebration with refreshments (mostly beer). However, the run gets interesting with false trails, beer stopping points, and checkpoints for hashers to catch up. It is not a race!  Instead, it's a chance for people to explore new parts of a city, make friends, and get their hearts pumping.  

And we're off!  Photo by Katie Smith

The International Hash House Harriers was founded in Malaysia in 1938 by a group of bored runners who originated the club as an alternative to lonesome (and boring) individual running. It is based in every major city worldwide, as well as many smaller towns.  Some of the objectives of the original Hash House Harriers from the 1938 group were:

• To promote physical fitness among our members

• To get rid of weekend hangovers

• To acquire a good thirst and to satisfy it in beer

• To persuade the older members that they are not as old as they feel

We first did hash runs when we lived in Busan, South Korea.  We only did a couple but really enjoyed them.  After living here in Cali for two years, we thought starting a hash club would be a great way for the expats of all the different schools in Cali to get together and socialize.  We started in front of our apartment.  Aaron served as the hare and did a fantastic job setting a trail.  The trail meandered through the south of Cali and included 3 stream crossings, plank bridges, some fantastic views of the mountains at sunset, and a whole lot of fun.  We ended with a cookout at a friend's house with plenty of food and beverages.  We are going to try and do this the last weekend of every month in different parts of the city.   People and dogs of all ages are invited!  If interested, check out our Facebook page: Cali Hash House Harriers

One of the 3 stream crossings along the way!

At a "Hash Hold"--that symbol means to get a drink and wait for others.

We're back!

The blur.  That's what I am going to call the 2015-2016 school year.  Between being a student and teaching students, my mind didn't have time to process the day to day of our life (hence the blog hiatus).  It was a year of growth in many ways to say the least.  But now I've finished my master's degree, Aaron will finish his in December, and we will be living and working in the same country for more than 2 years--something we have never done together! We are truly enjoying feeling settled here and going back to our day to day routine.

Part of that routine is biking to school most days.  Driving in Cali is ridiculous.  Biking in Cali is not much better. Yet biking here is one of our favorite ways to get around.  There's something about filtering through traffic and trying to navigate around cars, trucks, motorbikes, street performers, vendors, potholes, sewer grates, speed bumps, stray dogs, lizards, horse carts, and glass that stimulates an unbeatable adrenaline rush.  Yet soon, the higher we climb up to school, the mountains begin to peak above the clouds, the sounds of the city fade in the distance, and that adrenaline is tamed by the energy of the Farallones.  Each morning starts with this rollercoaster, and we wouldn't have it any other way.  This is home.

The ultimate question...

Lately this question has been taunting me.  It yanks on my heart strings and points fingers at my thoughts.  The more I search for an answer, the more difficult it is to find one. Why do I live far away from those I love?  

Two weeks ago I spent four days surrounded by some of my favorite people in the whole world.  Not only are they fun to have around, but each of them completes a part of me. These people make me feel alive, loved, excited, and full.  I feel like my true self when I am with them.  As I watched my dearest friend walk down the aisle, I was a tearful mess thinking about leaving my friends and family with whom I feel so much love and to whom I have so much love to give in return.  

But as I drove down I-35 and gazed off into the endless cornfields, I couldn’t help but think about the fact that every SUV on the highway was driving in a perfectly straight line.  There were no obstacles or speed bumps in sight (except the narrowing to one lane due to the inevitable Minnesota summer road construction).  There were no buses swerving to the shoulder trying to roundup people waiting on the side of the road to get to their loved ones.  There were no motorbikes weaving in and out of traffic like a living tapestry.  No horse carts, no taxis, no bicycles.  There were no road stands—no scent of empanadas or Sancocho wafting through the air inviting you to slow down, sit on a red plastic chair on the side of the road, and take a break.  Everything seemed predictable, easy, and safe. 

It’s times like those when the answer to my question seems easy. Why do I live away from those I love?  Well…..“I live for adventure!” or “I want spontaneity and unpredictability in my life!” or even “The world is my home!”  I try to answer it with cliche phrases like those to try and console my aching heart.  It certainly works for a little bit, but eventually the question tugs at me again, and I’m still left with that deep longing for my family and friends.

I think this is a question I will wrestle with for as long as I live away from those I love. I could move back to Minnesota and the United States and live a full, happy, very happy life.  But there would still be an itch that I would need to scratch.  An itch for something beyond the familiar.  An itch for something that fills something even a best friend's hug can not fill. 

Okay, let’s be real.  Ultimately, my dream is that I have a jet and all of my favorite people in the world could come visit at any time, to any place, for free! But, until that dream comes true, or my traveling rash is cured, I suppose Skype/FaceTime and BIG hugs once or twice a year will have to suffice. 

Introducing...

Sometimes dreams do come true.  Ever since we moved out of the US for the first time, Aaron has been dreaming about this being.  Her white, slender body and dainty accessories.  Her ability to climb mountains with his strong assistance.  Her capacity to carry his children all over the world.

No, I'm not talking about this Vanna:

I'm talking about this one.  Vanna Blanca "Super Carry" Hefstad:

It's about as simple as a car gets: no automatic shifting, no power steering, no air conditioning, and no power locks. It even has a choke to start the engine which fits snugly under the driver's seat.  However, when Aaron's life-long friend Tim came to visit, they made it their mission to add some bling.  They went to the depths of Cali's automotive district, bought LED lights and a new stereo, and installed them to make Vanna a road tripping dream. 

Aaron and Tim using their soldering skills.

Our first official road trip was to Popayan about 2 hours from Cali.  The drive from Cali weaves through some brilliantly beautiful mountain landscapes with volcano Purace in the background.  We stayed in Hostel Caracol, a quiet, clean hostel in the middle of the city center.  Popayan is known for its white city center.  The white, 2 story building blend to make a maze that is easy to get lost in.  I wouldn't recommend going on a Sunday or Festivo as it is pretty dead.  Many of the restaurants and coffee shops were closed to our dismay, but we decided to look for entertainment outside of the city center.  We had signed up for a tour with Popayan Tours to climb the volcano Purace.  Unfortunately, the guide called and said the wind and visibility has been horrible lately and it wouldn't be worth the climb.  Apparently the best time to climb the volcano is January and February.  So, instead we decided to do their Biking/Hot Springs tour.  We were picked up at our hostel at 10:00am and driven to the hot springs about an hour outside of town.  The springs were in a beautiful setting, but because it was a festivo, were packed!  They definitely had nothing on the Santa Rosa thermal springs in the coffee region, but were great for a dip and some sauna time.  Then, we biked 30km back to town.  It was a pretty relaxed bike ride with a few uphills.  The views of the mountains were unbeatable!  Along the way, at kilometer 3 or 4, we stopped at a little restaurant for juice and tamales--the best tamales I've had in Colombia!  It was the perfect way to end the ride.

On our way back to Cali, we checked out the town of Silvia.  The drive itself is worth it as we couldn't help but stop and take in the views.  Also, every Tuesday they have a market where the indigenous people sell produce.  We munched on empanaditas and pandebono as we strolled through the aisles "oohhhing" and "ahhiing" at the abundance of potatoes, tomatoes and grains.

Tim captured this road trip and the rest of his time here with his GoPro.  Take a look:

Aaron's ultimate dream is to drive Vanna back to the U.S. when we leave Colombia.  In the meantime, we're looking forward to taking the Runestad parents on their own Colombian road trip very soon.

The Stewarts Come to Colombia!

At the Cali Zoo!  Photo by Dave Stewart

Aaron's mom and Dave came down over our spring break at the end of March.  It was their first time in South America which made it a really special, eye-opening trip!

We spent a few days in Cali touring our favorite parts as well as places we hadn't gone before. For example, we took our first trip to the Cali zoo which, for me, trumped any zoos I've ever been to!  Although some of the animals were pretty lazy, it was a beautiful place to see some of the Colombian wildlife up close and take in the gorgeous flora and fauna. 

 Our next adventure was off to Santa Rosa in the heart of Colombian's coffee country.  However, we weren't there for the coffee.  Oh no.  We had heard that there were some beautiful hot springs, but even more importantly, chorizo.  Santa Rosa is known to have the best chorizo in the world!  We were ready!

After taking a bus from Cali, hopping in another bus to Santa Rosa, and then a jeep, we made it to Matisses Hotel Campestre.  We were early and couldn't check in yet, so without skipping a beat, like a kid in a candy store, Aaron asked, "Where's the best chorizo?!"  Our lovely host recommended a tiny place, walkable distance from our hotel.  We followed the smell of grilled meat all the way to the little Christmas colored restaurant with an unbelievable view of the lush, green mountains!  The chorizo exceeded our expectations.  Whether it was the meat or the micheladas, we were in a food coma the rest of the day!  We woke to chickens the next morning and made our way to the Termales Balneario.  They were stunning.  We soaked in the hot pools and gazed at a giant waterfall with multiple streams of water dancing down from the jungle above.  You could also jump in the cool waterfall and then run to the steaming hot termales.  Sandy and I got massages while Aaron and Dave drank beers and soaked in the natural beauty.  We were there in the morning which was really peaceful as there was not many people (apparently the evening is the most crowded time).  I will definitely come here again.

Matisses Hotel Campestre--a beautiful, peaceful accommodation

 

Waiting for our first taste of Santa Rosa chorizo.  Photo by Dave Stewart

Hiking up to the Santa Rosa Termales Balneario. Photo by Dave Stewart

Bathing beauty in front of the waterfall.

Next up was Salento.  Now, Aaron and I have been to Salento more than anywhere else in Colombia, but we just can't get enough.  We always stay at La Serrana because of it's absolutely perfect rural setting and gorgeous views of the mountains.  But this time we did something we'd never done---horseback riding.  We did a 4 hour ride to a waterfall.  Now, it was the rainy season which definitely made for a slippery ride.  For those of you who don't know, I got bucked off a horse at church camp in middle school and broke my arm. Needless to say, I'm not a very confident horse rider.  But this ride sure got me confident QUICK.  Our horses were slipping and sliding in this narrow tunnel down the mountain...sometimes almost chest deep in mud!  Talk about the best four wheel drive possible.  I was astounded at how well the horses were able to maneuver their way down the steep, slippery passage.  After crossing streams, rivers, and mountain valleys, we made it to the waterfall.  It was certainly a ride to remember.

Sandy and Dave looking like pros in their new sombreros!  

Mom and son in front of the waterfall. Photo by Dave

No visit to Salento is complete without a trip to the Cocora Valley.  Now, keep in mind it was the rainy season.  Although we were hoping for blue sky, it just didn't happen. But, after years of camping and hiking, that didn't stop any of us, especially Sandy and Dave.  We hiked up to the top of the valley only to see fog--Aaron and I kept trying to describe what would be the view using our best poetic devices but nothing could replace it.  However, cold and wet, we drank hot chocolate with cheese as our feeling of accomplishment kept us warm.  As we returned down to the valley, we really started to appreciate the mysteriously magical way the mist made the wax palms creep out at you.  It added a depth to the experience that we had not felt on our previous sunny visit.  It also forced us to look more at the beauty in front of us like hummingbirds, orchids, and insects.

Perspective. Photo by Dave

One of the "look out points." Photo by Dave

Don Elias Coffee Tour Photo by Dave

We were SO lucky to have Sandy and Dave visit.  The crazy bus rides, laughs, micheladas, pastries, and chorizos shared will be remembered.  Word on the street is that they hope to make a return trip...we're so happy they fell in love with Colombia.  It's hard not to.

Turning 30 in San Cipriano

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. ;)

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.