Tag Archives: photography

Friday Fotos: Jardín – Antioquia’s Semi-Secret Garden

Last month, I traveled to Jardín, a pueblo just south of Medellín. Although its fame is rising, Jardín has become a destination for foreign travelers relatively recently. While it lacks the polish of a town that has honed its tourism industry to a foreign-demand-meeting perfection, it gleams radiant with an authenticity already lost or waning in other locales.

Jardín, living up to its moniker.

Jardín, living up to its moniker.

Locals and tourists alike sit in the main plaza drinking beer or coffee ’til the wee hours, often watching others show off their riding skills on horses that dance around the periphery. Shortly after the revelers turn in, the bells of the church ring at an ungodly hour – 4:00 a.m. or something – to announce the day’s  first Mass.

Jardín’s name – literally, “Garden” – is apt. It’s nestled in the mountains, surrounded by lush vegetation and waterfalls.

The road to Jardín from Medellín is less idyllic. It’s far easier to drive 45 minutes on impeccable roads to El Retiro or Guatapé than to venture three hours south on the winding, crumbly vías that lead to Jardín. Traffic due to road construction to prevent rockslides stopped us for so long at one point that I got out to walk. Later in the drive, I saw signs to Salgar, where on May 18 a flooding river triggered a landslide that killed some 95 people and left countless without homes. The buses on the route are piloted by very experienced drivers or near-madmen, I’m not sure which, who careen around blind curves in the wrong lane. The communities on the way have rhythmic names that seem out of a Spanish-language Mother Goose: Titiribí and Bolombolo, for example. The signage, or lack thereof, is terrible. But oh, the scenery. Oh the magic.

And by the way, if you do make a wrong turn, it may set you back a couple of hours as it did us, but then you get to see nearby towns like Betania, perched on the edge of the mountains, with locals friendlier than anywhere I have met in all of Colombia, which is saying a lot since this is a friendly place.

When you finally arrive in Jardín, you’ll know it was worth it. A special treat for us was a half-day at Finca Los Ángeles, where the family there taught us about coffee cultivation and the coffee market worldwide, while Doña Ángela prepared a farm-to-table lunch (for real, people) that would rival any big-city fine dining. Coffee cultivation in the region began when a caffeine-loving priest started having parishioners plant it as a penance, or so we were told by a local guide.

But enough words. Here are the pics. Click to scroll through full-size versions.

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Land and Sky, Sun and Seas

I am not a great photographer. Wait, you already knew that? Oh well. Perhaps the real confession is that for the longest time I refused to carry a camera when I traveled (yes, this was before the cell phone/camera mash-up). My boycott began after I left the first nice camera I ever owned at the top of the ski jump in Lillehammer, Norway. (I wasn’t jumping off the thing. I know you’re shocked. Instead, I was on a summer tour of the 1994 Winter Olympics site.) After I lost that camera, I decided the extra worry wasn’t worth it.

The advent of digital photography made me reconsider. No more calculating the value of a potential shot versus how much film is left, no trips to get the photos developed. I started taking pictures again, usually to my disappointment. They never capture what I see. And as creative as I may be in other areas, I fail to achieve the unique perspectives or stark beauty of great photography. The best I can hope is that my photos play a decent supporting role for my writing.

All this makes it strange that I’m participating in the Thomas Cook Explore the Elements photo contest in which contestants enter four photos representing Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. I’m entering out of community spirit: through a nomination process, this contest lets you learn more about different people’s viewpoints. Banana Skin Flip Flops nominated me, and I really enjoyed her photos. I’m passing the torch by nominating Sarepa, Everywhere All the Time, All Over the MapAn Adventure Abroad, and Traci Carver. It’s good to glimpse the world through others’ eyes.

The Little Guy
A rock stands strong amid stream and mountains.
Yosemite National Park, California, USA
(Earth)

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Fabric of Fire
A woman’s dress blazes beneath the heap of sticks she carries.
Akbar’s Tomb, Sikandra, Uttar Pradesh, India
(Fire)

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Who Says You Can’t See Air?
Children reach toward clear plastic bags floating untethered,
like sky lanterns or jellyfish.
Reykjavik Art Museum (I believe), Reykjavik Culture Night, August 22, 2009
Reykjavik, Iceland
(Air)

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Unfinished Business
Fort Jefferson, the construction of which began in 1846 or ’47 but was never completed, was intended to be a fort but instead served as a prison before becoming a coaling station for the US Navy. Now it’s a sometimes landing point for persons migrating from Cuba and a surreal tourist destination. It stands silent amid Caribbean waters known for their beauty and their danger.
Dry Tortugas National Park, Florida Keys, USA
(Water)

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(Fotos) Biggest Children’s Parade on Earth? Maybe!

Carnaval - not just for the big kids.

Carnaval – not just for the big kids.

This year, I took my two year-old son Marcello to the Desfile del Carnaval de los Niños, or the Children’s Carnaval Parade. Last year, being the clueless expat that I sometimes am, we totally missed it. I realized my lapse when we went over to a friend’s house later that same day and everyone — parents and kids alike — had on Carnaval attire. (There is a definite dress code to Carnaval events; the more screaming-loud colors involved, the better.) When I asked why, their incredulous stares clued me in to the fact that the Children’s Parade is a big deal. But until this past Sunday, I had no idea just how big a deal it is. Continue reading

(Friday Fotos) Now THIS is a Rock – El Peñón de Guatapé

La Piedra, as seen from the Embalse Peñol-Guatapé (Peñol-Guatapé Reservoir).

La Piedra, as seen from the Embalse (Reservoir) Peñol-Guatapé.

Medellín is perfect for day-tripping, with several great destinations within easy reach. But be forewarned — if you take one of the standard tours to El Peñón de Guatapé, you are probably in for a bit of exercise! Our driver dropped us off at the base of La Piedra de Peñol (the Rock of Peñol), as the freakishly pointy rock is also known, and then informed us that he’d wait while we ascended the 740 steps to the viewing platform on the summit. That we had a two-year-old on our hands did not seem to change our driver’s expectations. My husband, ever the good sport and fortunately boasting admirable upper body strength, was up for the challenge. I did a bit of toddler-hauling myself, and we made it to the top. The good news is that the climb was worth it.

La Piedra is a natural rock formation with a total height of 2,135 meters above sea level. The prominently visible portion rises 200+ meters from the surrounding terrain. The locals told me it may have been a meteorite, though other sources state that it emerged as part of the region’s natural rock bed. Regardless, it’s no surprise that the rock was treated as sacred by the indigenous people that used to inhabit the area. La Piedra was first ascended in 1954 by local admirably-crazy guy (I have deemed him such) Luis Eduardo Villegas López and a couple of others. The masonry steps, squeezed into one of the Stone’s few natural crevices,  were built in subsequent years by a visionary family that supposedly still maintains them today.

Visible on the rock are two giant painted letters — a “G” and what looks like an “I”. Legend has it that they’re remnants of a dispute between the towns of Guatapé and Peñol, between which the rock sits. The story is that Guatapé residents started painting their town’s name on the side of La Piedra until folks from Peñol mobilized to stop them. Only the almost-GU remains. Personally, I kind of feel for Peñol, seeing as how the original town of Viejo Peñol was flooded in 1978 and relocated to create the Peñol-Guatapé Reservoir. That being said, another account I read seems to imply that the letter-painting was halted because of La Piedra’s designation as a national monument by the Colombian government. I choose to believe the more fun mob story.

In any case, El Peñon is definitely worth the pain in your calves and shakiness in your quads. Take a look and enjoy for yourself! Click on a photo to open a slideshow and see captions.

(Friday Fotos) Los Glaciares National Park – El Calafate, Argentina

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A leading edge of the Perito Moreno Glacier.

One of the advantages of expat life is being able to travel to destinations that might otherwise be out of reach. When my husband and I moved to Colombia, we made it a goal to use our years here as an opportunity to see other parts of South America. So when we finally planned a long-awaited vacation, we decided to head to Argentina – first to Buenos Aires, and then down to the Patagonia region, to Los Glaciares (The Glaciers) National Park.

So that you can judge for yourself my reaction to this park, let me provide a quick history. I have visited probably 90% of the national parks in the US. My favorite is Glacier National Park in Montana. Just to the north, in Canada’s also spectacular Jasper National Park, I saw my first glacier, the Athabasca. I have been a huge fan of national parks, especially ones with snow-covered mountains, ever since my parents gave me the amazing gift of carting me around to them. (Thank you, Mom and Dad.) So I expected to love this part of our Argentina trip. I did not, however, expect to be BLOWN OUT OF THE WATER. Continue reading

(Friday Fotos) Recoleta Cemetery – Buenos Aires, Argentina

In honor of Halloween, el Día de los Muertos (The Day of the Dead, closely associated with Mexico), and the Catholic Church’s All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day, today’s photo tour will take you on a brief trip through Recoleta Cemetery in the heart of Buenos Aires, Argentina.

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Elaborate mausoleums line one of the cemetery’s tight corridors.

Recoleta Cemetery really is a site to be seen, for several reasons. First, there’s the history. The cemetery, which was the first public cemetery in Buenos Aires, was founded on November 17, 1822. Its grounds, which house between 4,800 and 6,400 vaults, depending on who you talk to, include the sacred burial places of major players in Argentine history: politicians, writers, military leaders, former presidents, sculptors, explorers, priests, athletes, and more.

Among the most famous is María Eva Duarte de Perón, or Evita, considered by many to be the nation’s spiritual leader. Continue reading

Colombia + Rain + Football = Epic Adventure (with photos and videos)

Picking up where we left off in the ongoing saga of World Cup mania in Colombia, I had just bought tickets on the street to Colombia’s sold-out September 6th Qualifier against Ecuador. I bought the tickets literally a few hours before the game, and paid a hefty price.

Marcello's nursery school class on game day.

Marcello’s nursery school class on game day.

The purchase was dicey in two respects: 1) tickets are all too often found to be counterfeit, which can mean a colossal waste of money for the purchaser, and 2) my husband Gio had to work until just before the start of the game, which meant it would be no small miracle if we were able to arrive at the stadium on time. We made the leap anyway because we realized at the last minute that we would not be in Barranquilla during the remaining home World Cup Qualifiers. This would likely be our only chance to see our team — the number 3 ranked team in the world no less! — in action. It didn’t seem like an opportunity to miss.

So you can imagine our dismay when, just as we bolted out of the house to rush to the stadium, the storm clouds let loose.

The arroyo at the corner of CR 47, our street, and CL 85, the nearest cross-street. The wall that is submerged behind the tree is probably five feet tall.

The arroyo at the corner of CR 47, our street, and CL 85, the nearest cross street. The wall that is submerged behind the tree is four or five feet tall.

A torrential downpour just before a major sporting event is a problem in any city; it’s bound to cause traffic snafus. But in Barranquilla, a major downpour doesn’t just slow things down — it stops everything. This is because Barranquilla has no drainage system other than the streets themselves, which means the streets become whitewater rivers — called “arroyos” — that are capable of sweeping cars underwater and (sadly) killing people too. Gio and I donned plastic garbage bags in a (failed) attempt to stay dry and ran down the street desperately trying to hail a cab before the streets became impassable. With each step we took, the rain came down harder. We made it about two blocks from our house before the water began rushing down the street and over our shoes. At that point, we knew it was too late. Just when we decided to turn around and head home, and just when I thought it couldn’t rain any harder, it did. We were starting to feel waterboarded when we finally made it to the shelter of a nearby apartment building’s porch and a small store on the ground floor.

That’s when the fun really began. Continue reading