A Tale of Two Fincas- Part I

We spent a full week in the beautiful coffee region of Colombia. Our time was divided between two distinctly different fincas. Before I go any further, I will try to explain (very vaguely) what a finca is: In general, a finca is a farmhouse with at least a little bit of land (but some are enormous); the house itself may be very rustic with no electricity or it may be a McMansion with expensive adornments; there are usually fruit trees and other plants; part of the land might be cultivated to grow coffee, bananas, beans, etc... (but not always); (sometimes) there are farm animals; (usually) there are dogs, (sometimes) there are rooms for rent. One common denominator for every finca is they are not located in the town center with close neighbors on either side. I hope that this clears things up! The word finca is used frequently here, probably because it has such a broad meaning. 

The coffee region of Colombia (La Zona Cafetera) has been one of the primary places on our bucket list to experience on this trip. We felt it obligatory being that we are both big coffee fans and we serve it up daily at the café (though Raider Ridge coffee comes from Guatemala and Peru). We had the opportunity to see two distinct sides of life in the coffee region: One, more rustic and the other, a bit more luxurious (and touristy). 

We will start with the rustic side...

As it turns out, this trip has been built upon making connections. Making friends with locals is a wonderful way to enrich any experience and get an inside look at the places you visit. Thanks to a friend of a friend (thank you Heidi and Edna!!), we stayed with the lovely Dignorey on her 160 acre coffee farm near the small town of Cordoba, Quindio. Dignorey took us in like family from the moment we arrived. 

Dignorey and her 11(!) brothers and sisters inherited this land. She and her brother (the youngest of the 12) decided to make this their home while the other brothers and sisters moved away and had families in other parts of Colombia and the US. In 1999 a magnitude 7 earthquake devastated the area: buildings and houses were flattened, and many lives were lost. Dignorey and her brother picked up what remained and rebuilt their family home little by little. There is still evidence of the earthquake in Cordoba and in the nearby town, Armenia. 

The open air living room:

Dignorey showed us around the nearby coffee and banana farms, explaining how farmers are now planting single crops rather than a variety, which dries out the soil, invites pests, and causes farmers to use chemicals to remedy the situation. The traditional way is to plant banana trees wth coffee plants to provide them with shade. (Dignorey and some of her neighbors still stick with this method). 

Tobacco hanging to dry:

Learning about the sorting and toasting process of coffee beans:

Most families also grow frijoles (beans), a staple on most plates. For this reason, most of the houses have a space below the roof to dry out the beans. Dignorey's cat likes to hang out up here and bat them around until they fall through the cracks down to the living room. 

During our visit we visited the bamboo museum, hiked past beautiful coffee and banana plantations to waterfalls, met other coffee farmers, visited the botanical gardens and visited the school across the street. Dignorey graciously guided us to all of these places and offered incredible insight. She is a very wise and strong woman (both emotionally and physically). 

Butterflies! (My reminder to be carefree):

This is the sack lunch that Dignorey packed for all of us in banana plant leaves:

Delicious (and still warm) chicken, potatoes, rice and yucca:

The matapalo tree surrounds a host tree with its roots and eventually strangles it, leaving a hollow center (great for climbing up):

Our hiking crew:

A local campesino home: this sweet lady kindly offered us the typical drink of this region: agua panela (unrefined cane sugar in water):

The garden of the campesino home:

We must have sat down to a cup of coffee about 6 times a day. Dignorey and several other women farmers are part of a coffee farmer co-op made up entirely of  women. With financial assistance from the government, they built this coffee kiosk in the town plaza. Every week they serve up espresso drinks from the coffee beans of a different female farmer. 

This is the official community bulletin board:

Traditionally, homes were built from bamboo and mud. The flexibility from bamboo protected a lot of those homes when the earthquake damaged other homes made with wood, bricks and cement. 

What an authentic experience! We never even saw other tourists during our visit here. If you plan to go to Colombia and want to get off the beaten path, you really shouldn't miss this. 

Our next finca experience was quite different but just as wonderful! Stay tuned! 

Here We Go Hunny!

Finally, Jarrod has arrived! (But not without issues; that would be too easy)...

I first spotted him at 3:45 AM as I waited on the other side of the glass door in the lobby at the Bogota airport. He was accompanied by a stoic customs agent and had a semi-panicked look on his face. The agent looked at me and motioned for me to meet them at the door. My fantasy of running across the lobby to embrace him as time comes to a stop was quickly erased, and I realized that this was not the time for kisses and reunions; the stern look on the agent's face was my clue that this was serious business for which I was beckoned merely to translate. What kind of trouble could he have gotten himself into so quickly? "Dirección?!"  The agent impatiently inquired. Direccion? Jarrod echoed. (Dirección is Spanish for Address). Address?? Oooohhh yeah! I forgot that customs will not let you through without the address of the place you are going to stay. (I failed to mention this to Jarrod...oops.) He apparently tried to explain in his broken Spanish that he was meeting his wife who knows the address and NO she is NOT Colombian but YES she está aquí!  The customs agent made him leave his luggage behind and walked him to the lobby to find me. I confidently told her the address of our hostel which seemed to only cause her to interrogate me with more questions. Once I answered them to her satisfaction she motioned for Jarrod to follow her back to customs and did not grant my request to tag along. He disappeared before we even had a chance to squeeze hands. What a tease! Finally, 20 (long) minutes later he appeared again with his luggage and a huge grin.

 

Welcome to Colombia babe!  

We spent our first day walking around the historic downtown, La Candelaria. 

We visited the old Police Headquarters (built in 1923) and received a detailed tour in Spanish about the history of the Bogota police force and how cocaine king-pin Pablo Escobar was captured and killed. 

Ironically, after our tour of the ex-police HQ we witnessed this protest of police veterans demanding the government pay them retirement and compensate them for their hardships. 

We made a friend, Andrés, who proudly introduced us to Criollo food and gave us his phone number so we can hang out the next time we are in Bogota and also meet up with his friend who lives on the coast, where we plan to go. Jarrod was in awe at his kindness. People here are like this, I explained. I continue to be enamored by the kindness and hospitality that I have encountered in Colombia.

A day and a half of dodging people and cars in the busy streets of the city proved to be more than enough. We were also eager to check out of our hostel, where, during the day, someone stole multiple passports and money left behind in the dorms. Not only that, but the place was filthy, there were no clean towels, and they accused us of not paying for our room and we had no receipt proving

that we did. We got in touch with a friend, Willy, who is a guide for the company I volunteered for in Villa. He invited us to spend the weekend at his rustic finca in the warm, tropical region south of Bogota. We packed our bags, bought some groceries and jumped on a bus toward heading south toward Melgar. 

Per our instructions from Willy, we requested to be dropped off at a Texaco gas station on the side of the highway.  From there we met up with two of Willy's friends who showed up on motorcycles. This was "our lift" up the 4x4 road.

They didn't skip a beat at the sight of our big packs or at the sight of Jarrod's 6'1 stature (he is quite tall here). They insisted that Jarrod and our luggage go on the back of one bike while I caught a ride on another. (Big guys/big luggage, motorcycle 1; two lightweights/no luggage, motorcycle 2. Hmmm...) We were losing daylight so we weren't about to try and argue. 

Before jumping aboard Jarrod confessed to me that he has never ridden a motorcycle before. There's a first time for everything babe! 

As my driver sped up ahead of Jarrod's, I lost site of them and feared that they may fall over with all the weight. Is this too much for his second day in South America? 

Thankfully, we all arrived in one piece under a big mango tree, where the trail to Willy's finca begins. We paid the drivers 5,000 pesos a piece and started our trek into the dusk of the evening. 

The trail climbs up past other fincas and offers stunning views of the surrounding hillsides. We hiked past cows, horses, goats and mules until we spotted a light up ahead. It was Willy! As we got closer we also spotted two young girls, one siting in the middle of the trail with her head in a laptop computer. Willy introduced us to his neighbors and explained that we were half way to his finca and that this is the closest point where they can reach an Internet signal.

Willy is constructing his home with materials from his land: bamboo, earth, rocks and wood. He also incorporates recycled glass bottles in the walls. It isn't finished yet, so there is no electricity. He was worried that it would be too rustic for us. Are you kidding? This is awesome!!

Neighbor kids/hiking guides:

Willy's old biology professor also has a finca not far from Willy's. 

Picking mangoes! 

The kids led us to a waterfall and found these tiny frogs!

It's ironic because in Villa I wrote a story about the princess and the frog to help people who are learning English:

Unforgettable! Thanks Willy!