You're Awfully White: Getting To Colombia

Tyler and I left at the crack of dawn to make our 9 a.m. flight from L.A. on the one day it rained in December.  Some day in my life I'll be early for a flight. This wasn't the day — but I did manage to slap on a coat of mascara just before running out the door.

En route to Miami I did mental victory laps about finishing Christmas wrapping, tree trimming, and otherwise clearing the decks so we wouldn't return to a mess of holiday stress and activity.  (By the way/groan:  as I write this, our tree is still up.)  I read our itinerary, Spanish vocabulary cards, and the Lonely Planet guide, and tried not to re-read the part about how few visitors bring young children to Colombia. 

Early evening in Miami, we traversed the airport by train and foot to make our connection to Medellín.  We've been through Miami airport before, and Tyler reminisced loudly about trips gone by as we trotted along.  I gave serious consideration to cutting, running, and re-routing our journey to the Florida Keys.  

In the departure lounge for Medellín, I perused our fellow travelers discreetly.  Lots of U.S. business people with sensible polos, khakis, and rollerboard carry-ons.  Lots of families returning home.   Very vanilla; I felt like we blended right in.  But no amount of swiping could make the electronic boarding passes on our iDevices work (though they'd gotten us to Miami without a hitch), so it was out of line, get paper boarding passes, try again, board late, and scramble to our cramped aft seats.

Enter Damien.  Damien was tall and broad-shouldered, sporting dark glasses in the already dark cabin, and a blonde, ungelled mohawk flowing down across his shoulders.  His thick arms wore only a series of intricate, reptile skin tattoos.  Boarding just before the cabin doors shut, Damien stashed his bag in a first-class overhead bin, then combat-booted it back to our row in the cheap seats.  Apparently Tyler and I had accidentally taken window-middle instead of middle-aisle.  (Doesn't A-B-C usually mean window-middle-aisle?)  I offered to move but Damien let us stay put — after dropping an f-bomb, p-bomb (i.e., "If I weren't such a f****** p****..."), and making it clear I knew it was a good thing he wasn't an a-hole.  (Which had something of the opposite effect.)  Tyler would have thoroughly enjoyed Damien's "sentence enhancers" (as Spongebob would put it), but was deep in an audio book and oblivious.  

Once seated, Damien looked us over.  "You're awfully white to be going to Colombia,"  he deadpanned, despite the fact he himself was clearly of Viking stock, with snowy white skin but for his scaly green forearm flexors.  I told him what we were up to, and Damien and I had a great chat for the next 2 1/2 hours.  He's from Toronto and lives most of the year in Medellín.  He's been to L.A. but not Newport Beach, which I tried to describe:  shopping malls, law firms and stock brokerages, gated communities (though saying you don't live in one is like Clinton proclaiming he didn't inhale).  "Coach bags and SUVs?" he asked.  "Bingo."   

Damien lives much of the year in Medellín, where life is good and real estate prices are, he told me, very attractive.  His local knowledge was far more interesting and potentially useful than the guide book's.  I learned:

• Manicures and pedicures cost the equivalent of $4 U.S. in Medellín and are awesome.  Colombians love to have well-groomed nails.
• Wedding bands are worn on the right hand.  (I moved mine.)
• Damien said Colombian men were "10 times worse than Italians" when it comes to hitting on unaccompanied women.  To stop unwelcome advances, he told me the culturally appropriate tack is to cock your head to one side, give the offender a narrow-eyed once-over, then flash the thumbs-down.  Damien said this would instantly convert any would-be suitor to a harmless best friend/big brother.  (Thankfully I never had to try this, and don't know if I would have had the chutzpah to pull it off.)

Completing our tourist cards, Damien borrowed my pen and I borrowed his brain.  Viventura's itinerary didn't include the name and address of our Medellín hotel, but Colombia wanted this information.  "Put down 'Poblado.' You're definitely in Poblado."  El Poblado turned out to be an upscale, touristy part of the city, and Damien turned out to be absolutely right.     

Though our seat mate's offer of a chiva party bus ride into town was tempting, we spotted Bernardo, who had a comforting sign with our names on it, in the throng of humanity outside customs.  It was close to midnight and we still had a 40-minute drive to the hotel.  Tyler and I thus slipped quietly down the mountainside into Medellín, enjoying the city lights views, 4-bar cellular service, kamikaze motorcyclists, and road signs reminding us we weren't remotely near Kansas any more.

Next time:  I'd take the red-eye to Miami with upgraded seats, grab some sleep on the plane, get to Medellín the next morning and make that a non-tour, rest-and-get-settled day.  Our friends flew in the day before us, went to the science museum (modeled after S.F.'s Exploratorium; there's also a bug museum the kids would have loved), and really benefitted from the buffer day.

Next up:  La Piedra del Peñol y La Reserva de Guatapé (The Peñol Rock and The Guatapé Reservoir), and dinner in El Poblado.

Please see:  the disclosures at the end of this earlier post.

(Amazon links above are affiliate links.)

The Six Stages Of Colombia

On August 4, 2011, I'd never thought of visiting Colombia.  I didn't even have a precise idea where it was in South America.

However, I'd joined Google+ the month before, had been using the service, and at that time I think about 10,000 people had me in circles.  (The growth on Google+ has been remarkable.  On Twitter, some 8,000 people follow me and that's been constant for awhile.  On Google+ at the moment, 245,590 people have me in circles, up from 10K in early August and 0 in early July.  I have no idea why there's such rapid uptake on Google+ or why the huge disparity with Twitter, which I've used for five years.)  For this reason, 26-year old Matt Dickhaus, head of U.S. marketing for Viventura, emailed and asked if I wanted to "participate in a South American tour," possibly for free.

With apologies to Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, thus began my Six Stages of Colombia.

Stage 1 - Incredulity.  People don't offer me trips to South America every day.  I was intrigued but skeptical.  I don't stay at "free" hotels that require a time-share pitch, and this seemed like a possible branch of that tree.  Also, I have an 8-year-old, Tyler, who, when you pick him up and shake him, feels only somewhat ready for international travel - not quite ripe, in other words.  Leaving him home wasn't an option, nor did I want to. 

Stage 2 - Excitement.  Matt and I started emailing and speaking by phone.  Tyler adores animals, and has been obsessed with the rainforest since age 3.  We honed in on Colombia.  Viventura had never had young children join a tour (they generally recommend travelers be at least 14), but Matt and his team began putting together a new itinerary:  "a kid friendly journey with a focus on the beautiful beaches and extraordinary wildlife Colombia has to offer."  Plus, what Viventura wanted from me was something I'd want to do anyway:  post pictures, share the experience online.  Viventura could accommodate up to 9 people on a tour, so I started asking friends with kids if this was something they could see themselves doing.  I offered to spread my "free" trip across all the travelers so what it would amount to was a slightly deeper discount than the 10% off they would already receive.  I asked local friends.  I asked relatives.  I asked Evan Brown.  I asked Rick Klau.  Many were interested but it's a lot for people to drop everything and haul their kids to South America, and our travel dates were right up against the holidays.

Stage 3 - Panic.  By October 3, I was serious enough about the trip to be looking into nitty-gritty details, like air fare (expensive and indirect, from Los Angeles), and safety.  Our anchor city for much of the trip was Medellín, which no North American adult can hear without also immediately inserting the words "Drug Cartel."  U.S. State Department advisories about Colombia are somewhat encouraging ("Security in Colombia has improved significantly in recent years" and "The incidence of kidnapping in Colombia has diminished significantly from its peak at the beginning of this decade"), but also chilling:

[T]errorist groups such as the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC), the National Liberation Army (ELN), and other criminal organizations continue to kidnap and hold civilians for ransom or as political bargaining chips. No one is immune from kidnapping on the basis of occupation, nationality, or other factors. Kidnapping remains a serious threat, with two kidnapping cases of U.S. citizens reported since August 2010. One kidnapped citizen was rescued within 4 days and the other case resulted in the murder of the victim. Kidnapping in rural areas is of particular concern. On July 2, 2008, the Government of Colombia rescued 15 hostages, including three U.S. citizens, who had been held for more than five years. Although the U.S. government places the highest priority on the safe recovery of kidnapped U.S. citizens, it is U.S. policy not to make concessions to or strike deals with kidnappers. Consequently, the U.S. government's ability to assist kidnapping victims is limited. 

[Link mine.]  Matt and I emailed.  He's originally from Florida.  He has lived and traveled in Colombia without incident for two years.  They've been running tours for 5 years with non-U.S. customers (primarily Germans) without a single issue:  no thefts, let alone a kidnapping.  Matt's the poster child for the country's official tourism campaign, The Only Risk Is Wanting To Stay:  he went there on vacation and decided to stay on. 

At this point, the exponential growth of Google+ was starting to creep me out.  I was now in over 50,000 people's circles.  I told Matt that if we did this, I didn't want to post during the trip.  Someone could readily follow along with our online itinerary and have an unpleasant surprise waiting at our next destination.  No problem, Matt completely understood, and sent me more information about Colombia, crime, drugs, and kidnapping.  Bottom line:  I was reassured.

Stage 4 - Excitement.  This trip was sounding amazing.  Pacific beaches, Caribbean beaches, the historic city of Cartagena, a mud volcano, probably more animal and plant species than in any other country on the planet regardless of size?  Tyler and I were so in.  And, it turned out, so were were my great friend and neighbor Lorri Megonigal, and Tyler's best pal on earth, her son Ryan.  We started organizing.  Rick Steves travel satchel?  Check.  Packable beach toys?  Check.  Shots and pills...?

Stage 5 - Dread.  The next U.S. government Web site to throw cold water on the proceedings was the CDC.  You don't go to the beach and jungle regions of Colombia without innoculations for yellow fever, typhoid, and Hepatitis A and B.  And with malaria, of course, there's no vaccine (have you read State of Wonder?), you have to take preventative pills.

Ugh, two 8-year-olds and a battery of shots and pills.  It was a testament to how much the kids wanted to go that they sucked it up and did it.  Not without tears and trauma, but they did it.  My son had never swallowed pills before, and we learned that capsules (assisted by water through a straw) are easier than tablets, and tablets (even foul tasting ones) are easiest with peanut M&Ms.  Yellow fever shots make your arm sore.  They make a little kid's arm considerably more so.

The sales clerk at my local Ace Hardware is a dead ringer for Sofia Vergara, a decade or so from now.  I asked her where was she from.

"South America." 

"What country?"

"I don't talk about that."

"Is it Colombia?  Because we might go to Colombia."

"Djyehs."

End of discussion. 

We spent Thanksgiving with good friends, one of whom travels often to Medellín and Bogotá for business.  While there, he is constantly accompanied by armed private security and uses armored ground transport.

There are land mines in various parts of the country, we learned.  Not on our itinerary.  But still.

Stage 6 - Excitement.  We paid our initial deposit, bought travel insurance, checked our existing insurance for what it covered, bought international phone and data plans.

I started cruising Clicker.com for Colombia videos.  Anthony Bourdain did a great one on Medellín and Cartagena.  Music Voyager made me want to salsa, and further assured me visits could be fun and safe.  Globe Trekker showed gorgeous Cartagena and described its pirate past.  I shared these with friends (including my travel companion) and family to help them feel better about our decision; nearly everyone I told about the trip expressed something between surprise and alarm.  I read about smuggling subs in Wired, saw that the FARC leader had been taken out, and noted the myriad videos about drug and FARC violence were mostly out of date. 

I met a sweet woman with no English, and her daughter, my son's age, with some, at a fall craft fair.  She was a talented artisan and made beautiful leather goods.  They were from Colombia.

Another is from Colombia, Barranquilla.  At their holiday party, her sweetheart of a mother gushed about the country and offered to teach me some salsa. 

Someone reminded me to dig up Romancing The Stone.  (I've yet to see Colombiana.)

By November 12, we'd booked air fare, paid deposits, and were definitely going.  If we didn't know anything else, we knew it would be an adventure.

Disclosures.  I've been following the discussions begun several years ago by Jeff Jarvis and renewed this month by Rafat Ali and Jeremy Head, about bloggers, travel, exposure, and junkets.  I'm also well aware of my obligations under the FTC Endorsement Guides and regulations.  As I think you'll see in coming posts, the arrangement between me and Viventura wound up being more of a beta test than a junket.  I traveled, I gave feedback, and now I'm writing.  In order for you to assess my objectivity, or lack thereof, for yourself, here are all the benefits and incentives Viventura provided.

• 1 tour package, ordinarily priced at $1,745.00 U.S.,
• 10% discount for those traveling with me (children priced same as adults),
• 2 surprise Salsa lessons in Cartagena,
• 1 surprise 1-night hotel upgrade, following some flight arrangements gone awry,
• 2 small wooden boxes of coffee candy as farewell gifts, and
• 4 days traveling with Matt Dickhaus as interpreter, guide, all-around good guy, and child-whisperer.

Other than the meals included in my complimentary tour (4 dinners and what wound up being 7 breakfasts, for 1 person), we paid for all our own food and drink, our air fare to Colombia, hotel incidentals, some taxis, entrance fees for Tayrona and El Piedra del Peñol, and horse rental fees in Tayrona.  For more on what is and is not included in the tour, go here.

Next up, our first day in Colombia:  staying in Medellín, and traveling to La Piedra del Peñol y La Reserva de Guatapé (The Peñol Rock and The Guatapé Reservoir).

(Amazon links above are affiliate links.)

Back From Colombia

At the behest and hospitality of Matt Dickhaus and Viventura,  I've just gotten back from a trip to Colombia, where I was joined by my son Tyler (8), good friend Lorri Megonigal, and her son Ryan (8), on an amazing adventure.  We went to Medellín and its environs, the Pacific coast, the Caribbean coast, and one or two unexpected places along the way. 

Over the next couple of weeks as the holiday dust settles, I'll tell you much more about how we decided to go to Colombia (it unfailingly raises eyebrows), where we went, the people we met, the animals who ate our food and pooped on us, our impressions along the way, the mud we wore (voluntarily and otherwise), and what's on my list for our next visit. I can't wait to narrate and re-live our experiences, as it was alternately magical, frustrating, eye-opening, and once-in-a-lifetime fun.

As you know I'm a technology lawyer, not a travel writer. But I have a medium-ish online footprint, and Viventura would like U.S. travelers interested in South America to know they're there. I've never opted in to a subsidized trip like this before (and don't know if I would again, or even be asked), but the good thing about being tapped to beta-test Viventura's program is it got me and my son off our keisters and on the road. We weren't looking to go to South America but I'm so glad we did.

Viventura comped the expense of my tour (otherwise $1,745 U.S.), and gave a 10% discount to everyone traveling with me. We paid for our own international airfare (pricey) and most of our food while there (cheap). I'm under no obligation to say good things about the experience or the company, and when I write it up in detail I'll let you know what was spectacular and what was less so. 

I look forward to telling you more soon about our time in Colombia! In the meantime, a warm and tranquil holiday to you and your family. (For our part, we have a renewed appreciation for hot showers and sane drivers.)

TWiL 134 - 139

Thanks to our wonderful panels on the last several episodes of This WEEK in LAW!

134 Siri: Sony? Sunny.

135 Spouses Bearing iPhones

136 Patent Thickets And Words With Friends

137 iLaw: Justice Inside.

138 A Face For Booze

139 Strike The Pose

TWiL is on Twitter and Facebook, if you're so inclined. Please also rate the show in iTunes.

This WEEK in LAW on Facebook



Recent TWiLs

Catching up: here are the videos from episodes 129-133 of This WEEK in LAW!

All the show pages, with links to discussion points and more info, are at TWiT.tv/twil.

TWiL is on Twitter and Facebook, if you're so inclined. Please also rate the show in iTunes.

This WEEK in LAW on Facebook