El Olivar is a small farm near to the village of Turbaco, about 10km from the big colonial tourist city of Cartagena. Rachel’s friend Andrea’s father, Eduardo, a retired vet, lives here with his mother and two sisters. The house is a lovely single story building with lots of windows looking out onto the surrounding countryside.
There is a small swimming pool here which is great for cooling down- I’ve made good use of it after my late afternoon runs to Turbaco and back. Despite the heat there are lots of lovely trees, palms and flowering shrubs around. There is also a family who live in a smaller house on the farm and work here preparing meals, cleaning and doing farm work.
The farm has hens, ducks, about ten cows, a couple of pigs and horses. Lots of the food I’m enjoying here is produced of the farm- fruit, eggs, chicken, milk, yucca and other vegetables. Luckily for me everyone is very keen for me to try local speciality foods. It has all been delicious but of special note was the tomale- potato, pork, vegetables all cooked wrapped in banana leaves which give a fantastic flavour.
Granny (Abuelita) is lovely and is very patient with me as I struggle to understand and be understood. She’s very excited that Rachel and I are going to be married, wants to come if she can or at least get lots of photos and also for us to honeymoon in Colombia. The latter would be great except that we’ll only just be back from South America and were thinking England would be nice. Eduardo is friendly, kind and generous and is being very helpful with my slow learning of the Spanish language. He loves the countryside and is also passionate about politics. Colombia has many problems following fifty years of mismanagement and American meddling. There is a huge disparity between the wealthy few and the very poor minority with virtually no state provision for health, education or welfare. In the area around the preschool welfare project I was visiting there is no running water, sewers or access to healthcare and the electricity is cut on certain days. The cost of living here is maybe a quarter of that in the UK so an average wage of around one hundred and fifty pounds a month doesn’t go far for a family of five. The very poor levels of education in deprived areas combined with the state controlled media help to maintain the situation. Eduardo is one of a growing number trying to achieve change despite the considerable obstacles. Lots of the people he knows are involved in projects to help relieve poverty. Like the Padre at the preschool project who is an amazing character making a real difference in the community in which he lives.
The village of Turbaco (a big sprawling village of anything from 50 to 90 thousand people) is a great place for me to be. At first I was a little worried about walking around because the streets are so chaotic. The traffic, of which there are more motorbikes than anything else, is totally random with vehicles beeping, swerving and stop-starting all over the road. Along the busy streets stalls and shacks with booming music sell anything from live animals and entrails on hooks to old bikes and curious fried food. But having spent time walking, jogging and travelling on the back of motorbikes the village feels a lot safer than London. People are friendly, they know each other; nobody has tried to rip me off. It’s an exciting place with so much life to see. People don’t stay in their houses behind gates; it’s all doors and windows open to the street, sitting out front, chatting to neighbours.
I have also been able to start getting stuck into the Spanish language. There is a big difference between learning in a classroom or from a book and actually speaking to people. What I learnt in England was of no use until I got here and into a position where I have no choice to get by. So little by little I’m tuning in to what people are saying whilst managing to say more and more myself. I’m still rubbish at Spanish but I’m up and running and that’s the biggest hurdle crossed. I was impressed with myself having managed to get local buses and taxis to Cartagena, bought drinks, ordered a lovely cheap lunch (pictured) in a busy restaurant frequented by locals and arranged to be picked up by the family telling them where I was over the phone (all in broken sentences and a poor accent obviously but successfully and without incident).
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Granny (Abuelita) is lovely and is very patient with me as I struggle to understand and be understood. She’s very excited that Rachel and I are going to be married, wants to come if she can or at least get lots of photos and also for us to honeymoon in Colombia. The latter would be great except that we’ll only just be back from South America and were thinking England would be nice. Eduardo is friendly, kind and generous and is being very helpful with my slow learning of the Spanish language. He loves the countryside and is also passionate about politics. Colombia has many problems following fifty years of mismanagement and American meddling. There is a huge disparity between the wealthy few and the very poor minority with virtually no state provision for health, education or welfare. In the area around the preschool welfare project I was visiting there is no running water, sewers or access to healthcare and the electricity is cut on certain days. The cost of living here is maybe a quarter of that in the UK so an average wage of around one hundred and fifty pounds a month doesn’t go far for a family of five. The very poor levels of education in deprived areas combined with the state controlled media help to maintain the situation. Eduardo is one of a growing number trying to achieve change despite the considerable obstacles. Lots of the people he knows are involved in projects to help relieve poverty. Like the Padre at the preschool project who is an amazing character making a real difference in the community in which he lives.
The village of Turbaco (a big sprawling village of anything from 50 to 90 thousand people) is a great place for me to be. At first I was a little worried about walking around because the streets are so chaotic. The traffic, of which there are more motorbikes than anything else, is totally random with vehicles beeping, swerving and stop-starting all over the road. Along the busy streets stalls and shacks with booming music sell anything from live animals and entrails on hooks to old bikes and curious fried food. But having spent time walking, jogging and travelling on the back of motorbikes the village feels a lot safer than London. People are friendly, they know each other; nobody has tried to rip me off. It’s an exciting place with so much life to see. People don’t stay in their houses behind gates; it’s all doors and windows open to the street, sitting out front, chatting to neighbours.
I have also been able to start getting stuck into the Spanish language. There is a big difference between learning in a classroom or from a book and actually speaking to people. What I learnt in England was of no use until I got here and into a position where I have no choice to get by. So little by little I’m tuning in to what people are saying whilst managing to say more and more myself. I’m still rubbish at Spanish but I’m up and running and that’s the biggest hurdle crossed. I was impressed with myself having managed to get local buses and taxis to Cartagena, bought drinks, ordered a lovely cheap lunch (pictured) in a busy restaurant frequented by locals and arranged to be picked up by the family telling them where I was over the phone (all in broken sentences and a poor accent obviously but successfully and without incident).
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So here I am, lucky to be relaxing and learning in a beautiful place with a lovely family.
l-r: Betty, Me, Abuelita, Eduardo, El Padre, Mauro.
2 comments:
I have been dying to catch a glimpse of Andrea's Dad's Farm. Thanks for posting pictures and telling us a bit of what it is like!!
I am glad you are coping with the communication. Let us know more about the yummy food you are eating, sounds so interesting!
top blogging si really ace reading
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