Postcards and shenanigans

I have been at Finca Pachamama for 3 days, a wonderful corner of peace and nature in the Eje Cafetero, Colombia’s famed coffee axis. I wanted to visit this area because it is different from the other places I’ve seen and experienced in Colombia, namely cities.

I am a city gal, born in a capital city, living in a (different) capital city. Every time I explore outside of cities it feels almost exotic. My friends can attest how giddy I get when we go apple picking, and don’t even get me started on farm animals, especially chickens.

I don’t know that I have a deep connection to Pachamama or Mother Earth, and that is something I am always curious about and willing to explore. When I saw the AirBnB listing for a charming coffee farm about 45 minutes away from the closest city, Pereira, I just had to come and see what it’s about.

Learning on the farm

What I found is kindness, wisdom, patience, love, and generosity from Rubi and Gabriel, the wonderful people who created this oasis. They took over what was a typical coffee farm 14 years ago and poured all their energy into creating a biodiverse heaven to encourage regeneration and give back to Mother Earth. They keep growing coffee, but have turned the land from a commercial operation into an artisanal one, and generously share their knowledge about the artisanal coffee process with guests.

Simplicity and Harmony: Embracing a New Rhythm at Finca Pachamama

I didn’t quite know what to expect going there. My best friend asked me if I was working on the farm or what. I didn’t think I signed up to work on a farm but as we’ve all seen from my recent Cali adventure I can never be too sure of what exactly I’ve agreed to. I was a bit taken aback when Gabriel asked me, on my first evening, what I was hoping to get out of my stay at the farm. I hadn’t really thought about it, I had booked it because it was something I wanted to do.

I was telling Rubi and Gabriel about my sabbatical year and how I felt I needed to get off the proverbial hamster wheel, in my world where everything is moving at a frenetic pace, where my stress levels are through the roof (and even scarier, that I consider that level of stress “normal”), where the rhythm is so intense that I can’t seem to be able to make space to just be.

And Rubi hit me with a surprising truth: the only rhythm you need to have is in salsa.

Searching for a simpler life

I am still digesting that, days later. I believe her and I know to my core that she is right, and yet I still struggle to get out of the ‘be productive’ mindset. Even at the farm, where I could technically sit in a hammock and read all day, I had to get involved in the activities. I couldn’t just watch Rubi and Gabriel and others milling around taking care of it and just… sit.

Top row: Luis (one of the helpers), me, and Rubi. Middle row: Luis (yep! Another one of the helpers), and Gabriel. Bottom row: Morocho and Fresa, helpers in their own rights.

I guess the biggest difference is that I wanted to help out, I didn’t have to help out. Back to what my best friend asked me, it turns out that while I didn’t sign up to work on the farm, I did it anyways, but out of desire instead of obligation. And that made it fun, and easy, and it didn’t feel like work.

So I’ll continue to search for how to live a simpler life, where I can do mostly what I want to do, not what I have to do. I know I have to eat and to have a roof over my head, but maybe there’s room to find how to accomplish these while doing something that doesn’t feel like a terrible obligation or burden. I am looking for a new rhythm that I set, not one where I feel trapped and unable to change without doing something drastic, like taking a year off to disconnect.

I really enjoyed my stay at the farm and was able to see just how rich nature is, especially when you give it all the love and care that Rubi and Gabriel give it. I saw dozens of hummingbirds, ate many fruits directly off the trees (like a really, really fresh supermarket. Highly recommend), thoroughly enjoyed talking to the roaming chickens (which I named Sven and Maria), picked and roasted my own coffee (there may be a future for me in coffee roasting), and even got some hammock reading time in. I also started turning into my dad, taking pictures of the flowers. In a small way, I connected with Pachamama, and I am grateful for it and for what I’ll take back as I continue my city adventures. And I will schedule more trips to places that help me reconnect with nature and help me find my rhythm.

Sven and Maria living their best life

Or, salsa capital surprise

I have been in Cali, Colombia for 4 days (yes, I know, I still owe you the Cartagena post). Dubbed as the salsa capital of the world, I came here to learn to dance salsa caleña, the style typical to this city. Cali has been fabulous so far, with everyone I met being super friendly and kind.

Dance schools are as frequent here as Starbucks are in North America. After reading review after review and even getting a recommendation from someone I met on a day trip last week, I settled on the closest school to where I’m staying. I signed up for five hours of classes spread over the four days I had originally planned to stay and started doing my best impression of a dancer.

A fun part about going to a studio is becoming part of a community. There are often groups that get together and go practice at salsa clubs. I couldn’t make it to a salsa club on the first night, so when my dance instructor told me about another outing on May 21st (the day before my birthday) I was very keen to sign up. A little side note, I’m struggling a bit to understand the caleño accent so my comprehension is limited here.

We were departing right after the group class at 8 pm. Perfect. After my 1.5 hours of private class, I went home and got ready for group class and going to my very first salsa club. A small group formed at the end of group class: me, two other students, the instructor and his girlfriend. There was some discussion whether we were going to walk there or take an Über. Since we were in a group and navigating in a safe neighbourhood, we decided to walk. Shortly after leaving, Alex, one of my fellow students, pointed out to the top of the mountain visible from everywhere in Cali, called Cerro de las Tres Cruces (hill of the three crosses) and said we were going up there. I thought to myself “oh cool, a club on top of the mountain”!

Who wouldn’t want to go to a salsa club on top of a mountain?

We walked (mostly uphill) for about 40 minutes through the neighbourhood to the base of the mountain, where we stopped at a convenience store to get water and snacks for the rest of the way. At that point I said I wanted to Über up and everyone had a good laugh. I chose to go with it and pretend I had meant it as a joke, although it still wasn’t quite clear to me what was so funny about it.

And then we started to climb. And climb. Over boulders and rocks. Like, actual rock climbing. There were headlamps and flashlights involved. Still mystified about this rather complicated way to get to a salsa club, I started asking questions about our activity. I was met with a “the views of Cali are stunning from up top” response. I started questioning some more and talking to the instructor’s girlfriend (Sophie), who’s an English speaker, and found out the activity was TO CLIMB THE MOUNTAIN. There was no club. I had inadvertently signed up for an 8 kilometre hike uphill, with some sections having a 54% gradient incline.

For context, here is what people have to say about this trek:

I tried to capture the terrain. Yes, the views are lovely, BUT HAVE YOU SEEN THE CLIMB??

Uhhhh… this must be some club to warrant this climb

By the time I realized what was happening, there was only one way for me to go: up, with the rest of the group. Up and up we went, with frequent breaks (for me), lots of complaining (me), expressing I am not a goat (yep, me), and constantly stating that this is crazy (also me). About halfway up I started smelling like a wet mountain goat. There are some jobs that my beloved all-natural deodorant simply isn’t up to.

Alex apparently climbs this monster every Thursday (on purpose) and so he was our resident mountain goat. He helped me through most of the climb and the descent, and I can honestly say I would not have made it without his help.

In a (hilarious to me but not to her) twist of events, Sophie, who had made the request to climb up the mountain and was encouraging me at the beginning when we were climbing over smooth surfaces, lost her steam at the rock climbing part. It turns out she is afraid of heights. The beauty of this adventure was that we were all encouraging and supporting each other, so yes, I was screaming “You got this Sophie!” like a madwoman at particularly tough points – while holding on to Alex for dear life so I wouldn’t lose my balance and careen down the mountain. He was quite gracious throughout the whole thing, even though I almost killed him at least 14 times.

It took us 1.5 hours to get to the top. Did I feel accomplished? In a sense, yes. As we were going up and down we encountered many groups (and even solo climbers). This is a common activity for caleños (I don’t get it, but to each their own), but I saw few foreigners doing the trek, if any. So yes, I am proud that I tried something that locals enjoy and that seems to be a little off the touristy path.

View of Cali from somewhere on the Cerro

There is an open-air gym at the top, and due to the late hour we got there(10:30 pm) there weren’t many people exercising – however, if you get there earlier in the evening, the gym is quite full. I am baffled that some want to lift weights after trekking up the beast.

We started our descent around 10:45 pm, and I asked how long it was going to take, because at midnight it would be May 22nd, the day of my birthday. The group seemed excited by these news, and estimated it would take us an hour to come back down. It took longer than an hour, especially since we came across some slippery muddy patches. There were also areas where the passage was so narrow and so steep that the only way to navigate it was on my butt.

City shoes (I was going to dance salsa, remember?) post climb

We finally made it to a smooth area, where all we had to do is walk downhill. Alex, who had brought a radio, was fiddling with the buttons to find a station that would come in clear on that portion of the trek. U2’s With or Without You started playing and I asked him to leave it on, as it is one of my favourite songs from my favourite band. And then someone said it’s midnight and wished me happy birthday. Just like that, we stopped for birthday wishes and hugs and singing happy birthday, and that is how I rang in a new year.

I don’t regret climbing Cerro de las Tres Cruces and I am grateful for my own misunderstanding; had I known what I was signing up for I likely wouldn’t have done it. It was truly an unforgettable way to start my birthday (I will eventually forget the very sore legs and back). I decided to extend my stay in Cali, because the people, the community, and the dancing are exactly what I need at this time. I am grateful for my best friend, who reminded me when I asked her if it’s crazy to stay here instead of going on to Peru that this is the whole point of my trip, spending more time doing what I love. So that’s what I’ll do (but I won’t climb Cerro again). I’ll keep on learning and practicing salsa caleña, and go out to salsa clubs, no matter how scared I am of looking foolish. My love of dance is bigger than my fear.

View of Cali, Colombia from Cerro de las Tres Cruces (from some point during the climb)