Cartagena…The shady side of the street.
Sweating as if starring in a commercial for a sports drink…is this town behind its fortified walls. I fair not one drop better sitting in a lovingly, if only modestly refurbished colonial house dating back to the early 1600’s that is at least twenty times longer than it is wide. It is entered by a very large arched doorway, off a narrow street, off a lovely square, where locals are playing board games and chatting as all the while some body part or other keeps time to one or more of the competing latin rhythms wafting around the streets. This house has dark places and only slightly more light places, arches and alcoves, running water in numerous courtyards and ballustrade after ballustrade decorated landing and window. Dark wood louvres cover every window…and all are closed.
Whether they keep the heat in or out is debatable as I have a feeling it is all the same as this humidity seeps into every nook and cranny. A huge tree grows out of its center and drapes itself up and over the red tiled roof as it mixes with the bougainvillea and the skyline of this glorious site on the edge of the Carribean sea.
Today’s six hours of leisurely exploring the narrow thoroughfares and walking atop the city wall in search of an ocean breeze leaves me wanting to see more. However I am wilting and seeking a ceiling fan. I have poked into arcades, into cigar shops, emerald stores, museums, bars and every plaza I came across. Everywhere there are Cartageneros enjoying Sunday, at just about the same pace i noticed these past four days of my stay. They smile and murmer a greeting and a few times they enquire as to where I am from and we part with them welcoming me to their city. I really do stand out here as a gringo. The clothes, the complexion, the height all mark me and if that were not sufficient, the perspiration surely does. Last night a native of Cali assured me that it takes just three days to become acclimated. More like three weeks for me, if ever.
On some days I would barely stand out at all as for the last couple of years cruise boats have stopped by for a few hours to unleash their thousands. I am grateful that today is not one of those days as I experienced such a thing in old town San Juan and the character and pace of the place is turned on its head. A great boon for the bars and street vendors I am sure and not much good at all for the hotels in this city that remains more business oriented than tourism focused.
This invasion from the sea in some way is history repeating itself. As early as 1550 an assortment of rogues and corsairs were dispatched here to loot the collection of gold, emeralds and pearls that the conquistadores had amassed by rape, pillage and plunder from the indigenous peoples of central and south america. Cartagena was the collection and transhipment point back to Spain for much of this treasure that the British and French considered more fittingly as theirs. The likes of Sir Francis Drake raided the city some five times. Each time the Spanish poured more into the fortifications.. which remain in splendid evidence today and also as testament to the labor of slaves they poured into the region also.
I am fortunate to have been here to see Proflora, the showcase that alternates between Colombia and Ecuador and when in Colombia, has in turn alternated between Cartagena and Bogota. In this show Colombia gets to show off to the flower traders much of its wares…which are voluminous. To emphasize… 60% of all flowers sold in the US originate here in Colombia. There are buyers from Latin America, Russia, the USA, the UK, Europe and places in between. Each nationality easy enough to identify pretty much by how they smoke, drink and rock and roll.
