Colombia, a country with a magic realism
By Andrea Bernal
May 13, 2002
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Boyacá (Colombia), May 13, 2002.- Perhaps we could define our journey through Colombia, and specifically through the Department of Boyacá, as magic realism, in the style typical of García Márquez. Our trip was filled with reality and adventure. So it was that on the way we came across a lagoon at 3 500 meters above sea level, a white beach in the high plateau at 3 030 meters and a soccer ball industry between a town called Monguí and the upland moor of Oceta.
To get a better understanding of the magic realism that all of these places bear within them, I’ll begin by telling you how we started our four-day tour. On the morning of May 9 at 6:00 a.m., we left Bogotá for the Iguaque Park, but first we had to get to Villa de Leyva. After driving for two hours, we reached our destination.
Ricardo Cifuentes, our enthusiastic guide, besides being an expert in Colombian history and culture, made us experience flashbacks. With an impressive ease, he moved us backward and forward through history as if we were in some kind of a time machine. This made our trip even more interesting and turned it into an adventure, the adventure of discovery.
Not only were we able to become acquainted with the reality of the Colombians, but at times we were also witnesses to their past.
I don’t know whether it was only I, but in Villa de Leyva, the first town we visited, I had a feeling of magic. Closing my eyes, I was transported to García Márquez’s Macondo; I could see the main actors in my mind’s eye and when suddenly I looked up, the church, the cobblestone square, the elegant balconies and the handicraft sellers appeared before me.
So it was that Villa de Leyva remained in my eyes a mixture of history, legend, and pleasant, hard-working people quick to smile. That is what makes a country, a city, a town so special. And in that place, in those people there is a joie de vivre, despite the adversities and the setbacks taking place around them. That is what the people of Villa de Leyva are like.
By that time, Ricardo was a part of the group. Not only is he the guide, the historian, the expert, but also the friend, the person who is always watching out for us. Our health was one of his most important concerns. Some of us came from towns located at sea level and he was worried about that, about how hard it would be for us to climb to the high plateau. At times he alarmed us all with all of his recommendations for buying chocolate, panela, or brown sugar loaves, sandwiches and drinking a lot of water. What awaited us?
Twenty minutes further by car, we reached Iguaque Park. This is a protected ecological reserve of paths through virgin woods, which lead to one of the most beautiful spectacles of nature.
I walked about three hours because many of the guides insisted that this was something not to be missed. As I walked steadily onward, I recalled Ricardo’s insistence on our physical state.
Some of my companions fell back, while others continued. I am certain that what made us continue was the thought that “I started this adventure and I’m not going to give up now.” It had become a “question of honor” for us.
Continuing the hike was the best decision I could have made, for as I advanced, the landscape spoke for itself and welcomed me into it.
My eyes witnessed a change in the landscape that rose from sharp hills, flowering forests and clayey paths to the deep fog. I was fascinated by the sound of the wind as it whispered to the vegetation in the area.
After walking for three hours around the mountain, I came upon a lake surrounded by spectacular scenery. All my fatigue seemed to fall away with the sight. Nothing mattered, except to keep quiet and commune with nature.
As of that moment, the journey became a continuing search to unearth all of the marvels the region offered. We were tired, of course, but slept peacefully and replenished our strength for the following day. What awaited us Friday morning was the Tota Lagoon, located as 3, 015 masl and reputedly the second largest lagoon in Latin America. So boasted all of the area’s inhabitants.
Unfortunately, the climate did not favor us and during our sail (we were travelling at 40 km an hour), it began to pour –while we were still an hour and a half away! The freezing cold seemed to seep into my very bones, despite the fact that the launch conductor had lent me a sheep’s wool ruana to wrap myself in. Hope returned as we spied land –Playa Blanca (White Beach) and its turquoise waters beckoned.
We disembarked, shivering from cold, but the sight was impressive. It was hard to believe that a white beach could exist under those climatic conditions in the middle of the upland moor. Silence reigned on our return, for we were cold and disappointed at not having been able to stay longer.
Lunch in Aquitania was a marvel. The banquet revived all of us. They served us the best rainbow trout the Tota Lagoon had to offer in a stew of some kind with a seasoning that is a secret, according to Angela, owner of the Pueblito Viejo Restaurant. We felt renewed and our wet clothing and the possibility of the cold we could catch did not bother us.
The afternoon still held many surprises. We entered the museum on the outskirts of Sogamoso, where we revisited the past. The Muisca culture welcomed us with its legends and history. The visit to the Museum proved to be very enlightening. After that we were witnesses to man’s most moving characteristic, which children possess in abundance: ingenuousness and joie de vivre, despite the existence of adversities.
We reached a very picturesque little house, where we were greeted by a little boy, who was overcome by the television cameras. It was something completely new to them. This is the craft studio where the children, who had previously labored in the mines, now work sculpting articles from coal.
The stories are moving. Each one is different, but also part of the same: poverty. There I met Miguel (six years old) who was sculpting a handsome dolphin, Juan Carlos (seventeen) who was working on a race car and who dreams of studying plastic arts, Juan, Alberto and Pablo, all of them children, but even so with the mission of taking money home to their families.
The visit was short, but none of us failed to be moved by it. We were unable to stop talking about it over the next few days. So May 10th came to a close. We were no longer quite so exhausted, but still felt tired. By that time, our tour was no longer just a journey, but an adventure, a sharing of emotions, laughs and tiredness.
Monguí is a town with a special touch. Its people, its traditions and its soccer ball industry are all a part of that special feeling. For that reason, we could not fail to visit Monguí’s most important soccer ball factory, although today there are 15 microenterprises that make that product. We had a chance to sew some balls, but most of us ended up preferring to work as journalists, because it was not an easy job.
Magic realism took over our tour of that city. We were fascinated by this large production and at being able to meet 92 year-old Mr. Ladino, who first brought the idea from Peru. An experience to remember always: when you want to make a dream come true, you must always keep it in your mind and in the end it will materialize.
This was the end of our tour of this enchanted place. We took our leave from the Department of Boyacá, but felt that something was still lacking. When we learned that we would be making a small tour of Bogotá, we realized that that would truly be the end of our tour.
A city of meetings awaited us. Bolívar square enfolds all of the elements of a cosmopolitan city. Children, beggars, mimes, tourists, whole families, street merchants, couples in love are just part of the compendium of people to be found at that symbolic site.
Nariño Palace, home of the President, rises imposingly before us. Suddenly, at five o’clock in the afternoon, the music of a military band sounds in the street. It is time for the changing of the guard.
Security is tightened. Nobody can remain on the sidewalk right in front of the Palace. People cross the street to the other sidewalk to sing the National Anthem and watch the scene unfold.
The children get excited, and we do, too. We cannot stop filming. Suddenly, a helicopter lands on the roof of the Palace and people start to whisper: “There’s Doña Nora, the President’s wife.” The music comes to an end and with it the changing of the guard.
On the way back from Nariño Palace to the car awaiting us, I had the thought that at that moment the trumpets were not signaling war, but were telling us that the people love their country and that hope for peace continues to exist in every nook and cranny of Colombia, despite the warlike confrontations that are taking place in the country.
Source: “La Televisión” Program – Ecuador
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