Colombian Food, Villa de Leiva & The Long Walk

On Monday 24, we left at 6:00 a.m. on our long-planned journey to visit Villa de Leiva, a very old city that has been maintained in it's colonial condition. We hired a local member with a car to drive us there, a trip which can be done in a long day.

We headed north through Chia and bypassing Zipaquira. After crossing a small range of mountains, we entered the Ubate Valley, known for its cheese and milk production. We drove through some of the most peaceful, beautiful farming communities awakening to the activities of the day. Men and boys herded small groups of milk cows along the winding roads in the early morning light. Some cows, secured in two or four-stall, portable milking stations staked out in the dew-covered fields, were already being milked. Metal milk cans sat at the head of intersecting dirt roads for pickup. We saw several people on bicycles stopping to fill plastic jugs with fresh milk before bungee-cording them onto the frames of their bicycles for the trip back home.

The Ubate Valley



Further down the highway, roadside stands selling baskets began to appear. We were near the Laguna de Fuquene, which abounds in a particular reed which is used to make all kinds of woven products. We stopped at one place and took an immediate liking to their handiwork. Some of the reeds were dyed red or black to add to the beauty of the weaving. Metal frames of different shapes were used to give form to the items until they were finished, then the forms were removed. I'm a sucker for beautiful baskets, so we bought one. We hope it makes it home in one piece.

Passing thru Chiquinquira, we stopped to admire a beautiful, yellow cathedral on the central plaza and got out for a few minutes to stretch our legs. A little woman selling fruit on the steps of the cathedral caught our eye. Small stalls selling religious trinkets dotted the narrow roads alongside the cathedral and stores along the plaza sold typical tourist fare.

Chiquinquira


We took a small detour from the main road to visit the town of Raquira, the "City of Pots". It is famous for its colony of artisans, who produce traditional northern Andean pottery & hand-woven goods. We got out of the car and walked down the entrance road lined with shops filled with colorful items - hammocks, pots, carved masks and trinkets of all kinds. We walked in and out of nearly every store! The outside walls of the buildings were covered with colorful murals and the streets paved with cobblestones. Quite picturesque! The town had filled the main plaza with life-size statues made of clay, including the obligatory urinating-boy fountain. Our big purchase was a keychain to be used as a Christmas ornament and a sweater/poncho for me (which I bargained hard for).

Raquira

Pig Pile




Lunchtime required bravery on my part. We pulled into a roadside parilla in Sutamarchan (an area famous for its sausage, called longaniza) cooking all sorts of meat on an outdoor grill. Luckily, potatoes, yuca and corn were also on the grill. Since I could see flames cooking the meat and noticed they used tongs to transfer it to our plate, I felt brave enough to eat it - well, most of it. I just can't seem to gag down anything that comes in the form of a Colombian sausage. The grilled corn kernels were interesting, kind of like corn nuts.We got a whole plate of different meats and side items for about $4.50. It fed three of us comfortably.



Finally arriving at Villa de Leiva, we rattled down the stone streets to the central plaza, which was huge. All the structures in the center of town are required by law to retain their original color scheme, green and white, which was the Spanish colonial custom. Many of the houses along the narrow streets sported beautiful green balconies. Three women selling their wares drew us in and we ended up buying a bottle of their honey. They also tried to talk us into buying a huge aloe vera plant, saying it would bring us good luck. Restaurants hang them in their dining rooms for the same reason. Mike said the town reminded him of something out of a Clint Eastwood movie and he expected him to come riding in at any moment.

The Villa de Leiva Plaza



My Honey Buying Honey


We headed back via the same road in mid-afternoon, arriving in Zipaquira around 5:00 p.m. in the face of a driving rainstorm. We were dropped off at the Zipaquira salt mines (which are still operating), bought our tickets, and ducked into the mines out of the rain. Within the abandoned parts of the mine, which consist of HUGE empty caverns carved out of pure salt, they have created a fantastic tourist attraction. It mostly consists of Roman Catholic icons, crosses and cathedrals, but it is interesting just from the standpoint of its sheer size. Many of the tunnels are over 200 meters underground. A functioning congregation has as many as 3,000 visitors on Sundays, but since it has no overseeing bishop, it is not "officially" a Catholic cathedral. Mike asked if the Mormons could use it for a meeting and the guide paused and said, "Yeah, sure!" One section represented the events in the life of Jesus, with hand-carved icons and statues in rooms along the tunnels. There were altars where people could stop and worship, and signage along the way explained each room. They should have had someone who speaks English proofread before posting the signs, as one indicated a statue was a depiction of "Mary, The Holly Mother". When we exited the mine, it was still raining, so we popped our umbrella (which we take everywhere) and walked to the waiting van. The day was long, but filled with memories. We got home about 8:30 p.m.

The Salt Mines of Zipaquira






Tuesday 25 started out a little rough, when I shut the door to the apartment with the keys in the lock - on the inside of the door. We have a routine when leaving the apartment and I diverted. I took the trash to the chute just as we were leaving, then I went back to the apartment door where Mike was waiting at the elevator with the door open. I took the door handle and slammed the door shut, then went to double twist the key to lock it, but the keys weren't in the lock. My heart sank, as the spare set was inside with the main keys. We took the elevator down and asked the security guards if they could call the apartment owner and see if he could drop off an extra key.

The second day of TAL (our job search workshop) began shortly after we arrived at work, but one woman didn't go into class. She waved me over to the table where she sat and whispered, "Do you have time to talk with me?" "Of course I do", I answered and invited her into our office. She is the especialista from Barrio Quirigua and had been asked by her bishop to teach the fifth-Sunday class for the combined Priesthood/Relief Society lesson. He wanted her to teach the principles of self-sufficiency and she was terrified. She had attended our training last Saturday, so Mike gave her various ideas, a DVD with some excellent vignettes, then wrote out the outline of a lesson. Her life experience is an example of autosuficiencia. Her husband left her and went to Canada leaving her alone with their children. She knew she needed a better job to support her family, so she worked washing floors and anything else she could find while attending a nursing technical school. Her job as an ambulance attendant is good and supports her family. So many people are in need in her ward and her confidence in her abilities to help them is shaky. Mike tried to buoy her up. She asked if we might be able to come visit her ward, but Mike told her we were leaving in six weeks and really could not visit that many more wards with our full schedule. But he looked again and saw that we might be able to juggle our schedule for the coming Sunday and attend the Quiriagua Ward. She cried out and immediately assumed that Mike was going to teach the lesson for her! Well, he did leave the door open by agreeing to the visit!

Wednesday 26. Mike thought we should share some of our favorite Colombian foods this week and next. First up is Bandeja Paisa, a dish that originated in Medellin. It is served with plantains and consists of a plate of pork sausage, beans, rice, grated meat, chorizo, fried egg, arepa, chicharron (pork rinds), and avocado. It is one of Mike’s favorites (except for the pork rinds).

Bandeja Paisa

Thursday 27. Lechona, also known as lechon asado, is a very popular dish often served at Christmas and other holidays. It consists of a pig stuffed with yellow peas, green onions, yellow rice, and spices, then roasted in an outdoor brick oven for about ten hours. The pork is then stripped off and mixed with the other cooked ingredients. Quite tasty.

Lechona


Friday 28. Sancocho (from the Spanish verb sancochar or "to parboil") is a traditional soup (often considered a stew) in several Latin American cuisines derived from the Spanish dish known as Cocido. It usually consists of large pieces of meat and vegetables served in a broth. Also a keeper.

Sancocho

Saturday 29. Our morning adventure began with a taxi ride to the National Museum, which until recent times was a prison. Right away, we met up with a school group on an outing and they seemed to be enthralled by the "American woman" (me) more than the museum exhibits. A few brave girls tried out their English skills by asking me questions, then giggling when I answered. The entire group
insisted on posing with me in a group photo. A pile of cell phones flashed one by one as they each got a photo with the "gringa".  Mike thought the whole affair was quite funny.

The facility itself was one of the nicer ones we've seen in in Colombia, with many wonderful historical objects displayed in interesting ways. An upstairs gallery showcased one of Colombia's most famous artists, Botero, who is known for the rendering of his subjects as overtly "large". Interesting, but not our taste in art. While strolling thru one wing, we ran into four missionaries enjoying a P-day activity. We also bumped into a Relief Society group from one of the wards we had just visited. It was fun to see them together learning about the history of their country. Mike and I enjoyed lunch at the museum cafe, which served some delicious dishes from different parts of Colombia.

El Museo Nacional




A Botero

Our specific task on our list for the day was to find thirteen Colombian soccer shirts for our grandsons. We have seen them on the streets, but the prices were too high and we heard that the "clothing district" in central Bogota had them for much less. We had been warned to watch our purses, backpacks, and pockets carefully in that area. So forewarned, we started on our way walking south into the center of Bogota. Our walk took us down Carrera 11, which is closed to motorized traffic. It was filled with every variety of street performer imaginable - racing guinea pigs, gold-painted mimes dressed like Egyptian statues, school bands, old-time dancers, family singers, street artists drawing scenes on the pavement or on canvas, etc. We saw some soccer shirts hanging from a second floor balcony and stopped to see what was available. Climbing up stairs to the second floor, we discovered a huge area separated into little stalls, each basically selling the same things. We finally found the yellow shirts we were seeking and agreed to a very good price for the ten smaller sizes. We still needed shirts in the bigger sizes, so on we walked. When we arrived at the "clothing district", vendors hawked their wares at every turn. We happened upon someone selling soccer shirts on the street and he led us up narrow, steep stairs to his family's business on the second floor of a nearby building. (My anxiety-safety meter gave us the go ahead.) His wife and two young daughters helped us find the sizes we needed for our last three shirts and we were on our way (after giving the two young daughters an Amercian $1 bill, which they thought was very cool!) We looked for a taxi to take us back home, but being a busy day, none were to be found. We kept walking in the direction of home, while waiting for an empty taxi to pass by, but when we got to the grocery store near our house, we just decided to pick up a few things for dinner and keep walking. We looked at our step-counter when we got home and found we had walked seven miles. It felt so good!

La Iglesia de San Francisco (Cerca Early 1500's)

We got home from our walk just in time for me to watch the World General Women's Broadcast on my iPad. I loved the entire session and cried numerous times just thinking about how much I love the women of the church all over the world. Of course, I kept thinking of home too, wishing I was sitting next to my daughters, granddaughters, daughter-in-laws, and friends.

Sunday 30 began with a long taxi ride to find the Quirigua Ward chapel, where Mike had agreed to give a Self-Sufficiency presentation during the combined meeting. Ten years ago, Bogota redid their addresses and the ones listed on the lds.org website are the old ones. We got the address from Edgar and THOUGHT it was the new address, but not so. The poor taxi driver was very patient and we finally found the building. It was another "oasis in the desert" chapel. We got home, had a quick bite, then Mike left for another training meeting with the Granada Stake, while I took a taxi to our ward building so I could practice the piano before Claire's baptism. Claire is one of our "mission grandchildren" and it was her eighth birthday. Candace, Claire's mother, told me that at church that morning, Caroline, Claire's younger sister said, "Where's Grandma?" Candace explained that their grandma was back in the U.S. and couldn't come, then Claire said, "No. Grandma Anderton didn't come." Candace said, "I assured her she would see you at the baptism." What a full day!

La Quirigua Ward Chapel

KR & Claire

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