Life from Canada to Latin America, one word at a time.
It rained the whole three days we were in Puerto Asis, Putumayo. Instead of the blast of hot, humid, air I was expecting when I stepped of the plane, we were meet by gray skies and drizzling rain. From the weather to the alien looking pineapples currently in season, with their spiky skin, everything was
“That moment, when I saw his arm sticking out from under the sheet covered in goosebumps as he slept, I felt something. And that was just the beginning.” Manuela says, as she regales me with the story of her 35 year long relationship with her husband Narciso. The lighthearted love story became serious quickly, however,
I used to love motorcycles. When I first got to Sincelejo, every trip to the store felt like an adventure. I would stand on the street, wave down the first moto that came around the corner, and hop on board. As we raced down the street, I relished the feel of wind in my hair,
When on Colombia’s Caribbean coast, I spend the my time in the places I know best: the small communities that pepper the highway in Bolívar. In order to truly enter into a costeño rhythm, it is imperative to leave the city and experience life in a pueblo. Still want the beach? A great route to
“Even the dogs are fatter here!” exclaimed a member of a delegation over the weekend as we walked down the Parkway, my neighbourhood. We had just returned from visiting a couple of projects in Soacha, a municipality to the south of the city. Skinny, flea-covered dogs run wild everywhere in a community made up mainly of
Español Over the weekend on team retreat, a few of us visited the second highest waterfall in Colombia, led by Alex, a local guide. As we grew closer to the sound of rushing water, we chatted about life: what we were doing in Colombia, what our favourite tv shows were (Alex loves Friends), our thoughts
The Septima is one of my favourite places in Bogota. Every Sunday, the street down to the centre comes alive with performers, vendors, llamas and even guinea pigs. The excitement is quadrupled when seen through the eyes of Costeños, however. A group of youth leaders from the Alta Moñtana came to the city for the
I never felt like I fit in on the coast. My very DNA lacked the rhythm flowing through everyone´s blood, be it champeta, vallenato or the Holy Spirit. When I gazed into the mirror held up by my community I saw and became a pale, quiet Canadian, a sweaty, imination version of something I was
Anna L. Vogt 