These last few months have been a slew of travels, visitors, school (finishing my political studies program and graduate on dec 15!) and work. I recently finished translating my boss’s doctorate thesis on innovation and development, and am now helping out on various other smaller projects at ECSIM. As previously noted, translation work is pretty uninspiring, but the office environment is great. I love my co-workers and my boss, and this job has allowed me the flexibility to create my own schedule, which is particularly convenient when visitors are in town.
This past weekend I went with a group of friends on a 4 day adventure to celebrate and participate in the annual San Pacho fiestas in Quibdó, the capital city of the coastal department of Chocó. San Pacho is a two week long cultural and religious celebration, in which Afro-descendants along the pacific coast pay homage to patron saints by dancing, singing and marching in elaborate parades throughout the city. Surprisingly, these celebrations remain widely unknown throughout the rest of the country. Our group was comprised of 8 Colombians (Paisas from Medellín), 1 Italian, 1 German, 1 French, 4 gringos, 1 Kenyan, and 1 Australian. We were quite a neon spectacle and represented a high percentage of all the foreigners in town, which attracted the attention of various news anchors who followed us around with video cameras.
Chocó is the poorest and least developed department of Colombia. It has historically been isolated from the rest of the country due to a harsh terrain of swamplands and thick jungle. Building roads through this area is difficult and expensive, which has resulted in poor infrastructure and lack of development. The department overall has been largely abandoned by the state and considered a hopeless case due to political corruption and overwhelming conditions of poverty. Indeed, the Colombian government has - dare I say, carelessly - pumped money into the region only to see it vanish into the hands of several elite politicians. While Chocó is practically bursting with natural resources and wildlife, a lack of clear vision, proper leadership, community responsibility (“pertenencia”), and effective programing has left the area economically devastated and largely undeveloped. Most people lack basic needs like food, shelter, and health care. There are few schools and even fewer with quality education. Due to a lack of government presence, its vulnerable population and highly geostrategic location (the state of Chocó contains all of Colombia’s border with Panama and access to central America), the department has become a stomping ground for many guerilla and paramilitary groups as well as an important narco pathway for the illicit trafficking of drugs.
Perhaps it make
s sense then, that despite the awesomeness of this event, San Pacho remains ignored by much of the rest of Colombia and the world at large. It surpised me that so few people in Medellín, including classmates, co-workers, friends and neighbors had any clue what San Pacho was. In Quibdó, this is the sole most important cultural event of the year, as it involves the whole city and months of preparation. Each day a host of onlookers would congregate on sidewalks and rooftops to watch the colorful parade and dancing troupes pass by.
s sense then, that despite the awesomeness of this event, San Pacho remains ignored by much of the rest of Colombia and the world at large. It surpised me that so few people in Medellín, including classmates, co-workers, friends and neighbors had any clue what San Pacho was. In Quibdó, this is the sole most important cultural event of the year, as it involves the whole city and months of preparation. Each day a host of onlookers would congregate on sidewalks and rooftops to watch the colorful parade and dancing troupes pass by.
We stayed with the lovely Jose, who was born and rais
ed in Quibdó, though now attends one of the best universities in Bogotá. His father opened up his home to all of us for the weekend. Everyone slept on the wooden living room floor, lined up like sardines. Because there were so many of us using an already delicate plumbing system, at least once a day the water shut off, which meant bathing outdoors with buckets and using no-flush toilets. But it was a great excuse for group showers! Overall we had a blast.
ed in Quibdó, though now attends one of the best universities in Bogotá. His father opened up his home to all of us for the weekend. Everyone slept on the wooden living room floor, lined up like sardines. Because there were so many of us using an already delicate plumbing system, at least once a day the water shut off, which meant bathing outdoors with buckets and using no-flush toilets. But it was a great excuse for group showers! Overall we had a blast.
The hospitality of Jose’s family gave us just a taste of Chocoano warmth and generosity. Despite the economic poverty that faces the region, the people are so rich in culture, spirit, wisdom, and energy. It seems that the Chocoano people have a natural positivity to them that shines through the way they smile, walk, talk and interact. During the day, neighbors or cousins or friends would come by Jose’s house and stick their head in the door to share fried corn patties, or offer us traditional Sancocho stew, or simply to say hi to us and witness the goofy parche of foreigners. The quality and style of life in Quibdó reminded me a lot of life in Botswana, where I spent my junior year of college.
Our time in Quibdó was basically a pattern of waking up in the morning, eating breakfast, and hitting the streets in one flashy mob to dance the day away – rain or shine – until our voices were hoarse and our legs wobbly. We would then come home and rest for a few hours, eat dinner, splash some water on our faces, and change before going out again for the nocturnal part of the fiesta.
Choco is the wettest region on earth... it rains over 50% of the year. There seems to be a perpetual drizzle, though the rain has hardly stopped locals from carrying on with life. At least every day there was some sort of shower, but folks would still be out and about riding motorcycles, selling fruit, walking in the streets, singing, dancing and marching in the parades. At night, the rain would often lull us to sleep. Those who weren’t already utterly smashed from passing around bottles of Aguardiente all day would let their last bit of consciousness drift away with the pit patter of water on the tin roof. It was wonderfully soothing as it drowned out the perpetual thumping of reggaeton and salsa beats that seemed to fill every space in Quibdó.
On our last day, we took a bus outside the city, through a windy jungle road to the beautiful Tutunendo river. We spent the whole afternoon wading in the fresh, cool water and laughing about the weekend (or at least what we could remember of it). We finished off the afternoon with a delicious Sancocho that was prepared on a big pot near the banks of the river. A heavy downpour started on our ride home, just in time for a late afternoon nap.
