A frog was chilling in the bathroom
Where do I even start?
On the way to Minca from Santa Marta, I was told it was a 30-minute walk or 8-minute motor taxi. Trust me to mentally block out the ‘motor’ part and expect to be dropped off right on the doorstep in the taxi.
I was so wrong. I had to take two motor taxis to take me and my luggage at least 200m up a hill to a finca called San Rafael. It was moments like these that I wished I listened to those who questioned my choice to travel with a suitcase. But then I remember the joy of having options and everything I need. Plus, it is medium-sized, no one travels with medium anymore. It is usually cabin or large, so it is not that big.
Anyway.. I was really looking forward to being in one place. Having a daily routine. Sleeping in the same bed for at least a month after having slept in 9 beds and a bus seat over the previous 3 weeks. Just a bit of stability for a change. Little did I know that this came with 4 kids, 5 dogs and 6 cats. As well as the people working, living and visiting. It sounds like I am complaining, I’m really not. I am just rambling because I don’t necessarily know how to share my experience. There are so many aspects of it.
The Place
Minca. That is the name of the town.. well more like village. Similar to Salento, it is one those places that is on every tourist’s, whether Colombian or international, list when visiting north Colombia. Minca is located in the Sierra Nevada about 15km from Santa Marta and people passing through usually spend about 2 nights. Like any tourist hotspot, the village caters for visitors. Hostels, artisanal shops and cafe’s everywhere. Known for its hikes, waterfalls and birdwatching.
The finca was a bit further away from the village so in the 4 weeks I spent there, I only went down about 3 times. The walk downhill was fine, but going back up..? Horrid! Horrid by foot and by bike.
There was a section along the route that vehicles really struggle with. The motorbike that I was on was one of those vehicles. It struggled to accelerate on the incline and we went backwards before falling sideways. There are some things that rarely happen to adults, and falling is one of them. I wished it happened fast but it didn’t. The bike was high and heavy so my feet couldn’t touch the ground. At that moment, I knew that I just had to wait for my body to touch it instead. * sigh *
I was in the jungle. A jungle that came with all sorts of creatures. I feel like I familiarised with a new insect every day. From frogs chilling in the bathroom to snakes crawling by the poolside. It was a lot. Whilst I saw many beautiful birds, it was the toucan that I really wanted to see. But I clearly I didn’t want to see it bad enough because I refused to wake up at the crack of dawn for a small probability of a sighting.
The humidity was unreal. The smell gave me nostalgia to the times I’d sleep in my father’s childhood room when visiting the village in Imo State, Nigeria.
Seeing the transition from raining season to dry was really interesting. The previous volunteer told me that the clothes that he left in his backpack for 5 weeks has been ruined due to the humidity. Luckily this was not the case for me (also because I know not to keep clothes compacted in humid places). My first two weeks saw hot and sunny mornings but this changed to torrential rain around 14:00 everyday like clockwork. In the third week, the rain subsided and in my final week it was pretty much gone. I even started enjoying the cold showers which I used have a daily battle with.
Speaking of the cold. The temperature dropped a lot in the evenings. I mean, I would literally sweat buckets during the day and shiver in my hoody and wooly socks after sunset. Luckily, being on a coffee and cacao farm meant that I had an unlimitedly supply of hot drinks. Only of my favourite evening pastimes would be to watch the thunder with a hot cacao in hand and listen to the nearby waterfall.
One thing I would never get bored is watching the sunset in the mountains. A daily occurrence but yet different every time.
The Routine
I found this volunteering gig on Workaday and I messaged around August to enquire about November availability. I learned that most people were kind of last minute with arranging their volunteering gigs, so they were quite shocked to hear that I booked this so far in advance. Reasons for this being that I knew I wanted to be on a farm. A coffee farm specifically and in this region. I also knew that I would be seeking stability about a month into my travels. Lastly, I wanted the security of knowing that I had a place confirmed so I know where in the country I would be heading towards.
The page described the responsibilities as teaching staff English and giving tours through the coffee and cacao farm in English. I had about a day to learn the ins and outs of the tour as the previous guy left the following day after I arrived.
I would wake up around 07:00 and battle the cold water to be ready by 08:00 to have breakfast. Most days, breakfast consisted of arepa and eggs but Mondays were my favourite: pancakes with tuna sautéed with onions and peppers and a fruit salad. Strange combo, I know. I would also feed the dogs and cats.
After helping out in the kitchen, I’d wait for people to arrive so I could take them on a tour. A frustrating part was that the tours were very much as and when people arrived, so I was on call. Sometimes this meant back to back tours all day. Other times this meant that I could chill in the hammock with my book all day until some rogue tourist decides to arrive at 15:45 when the last tour is meant to be around 15:00.
Lunch Saturday to Thursday was the exact same. Soup filled with yuca, potatoes, plantain, sometimes spaghetti and beef accompanied by rice with beans, chickpeas or lentils. Carbs on carbs, filled with carbs and a side of carbs.
Friday was my absolutely favourite. Fish! Fried with patacon, rice and beans.. yum!
Dinner varied day to day and luckily for me, I am not a fussy eater but I have to say I really missed having varied and leafy vegetables in my diet.
Back to tours.. in a nutshell it consisted of a little walk and talk, through the finca, where I ask people where they are from, whether and how they like their coffee whilst dropping some relevant facts and figures and making sure I do a ‘show and tell’ at the right places. At the end I would summarise what we saw on the tour, give some tasters and invite the guests to a cacao mask and honey scrub before trying to sell them some products.
I made sales! A healthy amount too.. if I was on commission, I’d have raked it in. But luckily for me, there were some generous tourists so I made good tips.
I also assisted with catering to the needs of guests and handling their check outs. In terms of teaching English, I practised a bit with the staff but I did not have the brain capacity to actively teach as those tours were quite demanding.
For two out of the four weeks I was joined by another volunteer which helped ease the load a lot but having a third would have been ideal. Anyway 42 tours and countless insect bites later.. I was tired and decided it was time to leave.
The People
As with many experiences.. it is the people that make or break it. In my case, they made it.
Staff
When I arrived, I was met with about 4 women who worked the kitchen, who looked at me really confused as if I was some surprise arrival. After saying that I was the new volunteer, they quickly took my bags and served me lunch.
They could see that my mother raised no fool. I always cleaned up after myself, handled my own cleaning and laundry, helped out in the kitchen etc. Though this is second nature to me, little things like this matter a lot in creating bonds as I did not come with an entitled attitude with an expectation to be waited on.
English among the staff was non-existent so Spanish was a must which was a little challenging due to the mix of coastal and Venezuelan accents. I can only imagine how my time would have been if I didn’t speak any Spanish. I think I would have struggled to have enjoyed my stay as I get very frustrated when I can’t communicate. Especially long-term.
As well as kitchen and cleaning staff, there were also the workers who picked coffee. Some stayed on site whilst others commuted. In the evenings after work, we would chat, play dominoes or cards and generally get to know each other. For some reason, one of them felt very comfortable to tell me that he’s always wanted to be with a black woman because he reckons that it would be a very passionate and intense experience. I had to nip that conversation in the bud real quick!
Nevertheless.. I did make a really good friend who helped me a lot of things such as getting the fire ready for me to cook and getting rid of insects and frogs.
The kids
The manager’s 4 children were at the finca. 3 girls and a boy aged between 3 and 9 with two years between them. With them, especially the 3 y/o my skin colour was a prompt for conversation. She was touching my face and my nose and saying that it was a different colour to hers. Her 5 y/o sister joined the conversation and said ‘yes it is brown’. ‘Que bonita’ the little one said whilst still holding my face. The eldest girl (9 y/o) couldn’t get over how nice and long my braids were. These times, they were overdue to be removed.
I was so fascinated by these girls. I called the eldest one my teacher as she would help me with my Spanish. We would read children books together and her explanations were always so clear and she always gave me options of saying phrases differently. The 5 y/o for some reason didn’t like sharing with her siblings.. it was beautiful to see her change over the weeks as I told her that she couldn’t play with my things unless she shared. The 3 y/o always made me laugh. She was such a sunshine and a diva at the same time. Knew exactly what she wanted and how she wanted it and wasn’t afraid to ask anyone for it. I didn’t spend a lot of time with their brother… usually a 7/o boy tends to be quite satisfied with watching cartoons and play fighting with his sisters. Despite this there was no morning that he did not greet me. In fact, they all did. One by one, everyday without fail.
My main fascination with them was how free and comfortable they were around strangers. Open to playing, sharing and learning. They loved and looked out for each other. They were so free in nature and around animals. One of my favourite memories was when they asked to play with my umbrella. I was busy so I just let them, but didn’t really understand what they would be doing with it. A couple of minutes later, I hear laughter and screeching and it turns out that one was aiming the water hose at her siblings whilst they uses the umbrella as shield. The innocence of it. I don’t think I would have ever thought to play with an umbrella in that way.
I could go on and on about these kids. Leaving them difficult. In the days leading to my departure they kept asking why I had to go, why won’t I stay just a little longer. When it came to it, the eldest was so upset that she was tearing up and didn’t want to hug me goodbye. When I see waterworks.. my tear ducts let loose. Saying bye to them was definitely the hardest part.
Visitors
As the finca is also a hostel and a generally on a hiking route.. many people passed through but only a handful really stuck with me..
The family of 4 that was travelling around the world - They had two children under the age of 10 and I was just super impressed that having young children didn’t stop them. In fact, part of their reason for travelling with young children is to offer an alternative education of the world through experience and immersion
The active couple in their 70s - A Croatian couple who lived in Canada stayed at the hostel. Every evening, the lady would swim in the pool and pose by the sunset for her husband to take pictures of her. Their love was very visible and beautiful to watch. It seemed to me that they were in their 20s at heart. They were very fit too as they hiked everywhere with their backpacks in the scorching heat. Health is wealth!
The young man who was scared to say where he was from - A hiker stopped by the hostel for some coffee and conversation and I asked him where he was from. He paused, looked at me and before answering he said ‘f it, I feel safe enough’ then said that he was from Israel. Though I can understand why, it baffled me that he had to risk assess as he genuinely does not feel safe to answer that question honestly all the time.
The French lady living her best retired life - her free spirit and ‘just do it’ attitude reminded me of my late godmother. She was exactly like that. Adventurous and full of life. I kept losing at dominoes and she told me that no matter what I should always play an open game. Ensure that I don’t block myself. Maybe it’s the fairy godmother in her, but I felt like that applied to life.
As cliche as it sounds, this experience is truly going to stay with me for life. Whether the sunsets, tranquility, connection with nature, unlimited coffee, improving my Spanish, testing my fitness were all worth the countless bites I have on my body..? Only time will tell as the scars fade.
(Jk, yes it was!)
