Wednesday, October 22, was the trip to the mountains to visit the Indians. Dad, Orlando, and I met Pastor Kevin Cunningham in Palmira after he rode a bus for three hours from his city, Pereira, which is also Orlando’s city. Kevin and his wife are Americans, originally from Tennessee, who have been living in Colombia for almost three years now. They are working towards dual citizenship as they spend their time in Colombia planting churches and teaching English.
The night before our little trip, we saw on the news that there was a strike involving the indigenous people, and they were planning to march to Cali. Orlando was a little worried about this just because it sounded like they would be on the roads we wanted, and a different route would take hours.
A Christian man involved in politics here in Colombia tried explaining the situation to us. From what I understand, the indigenous people make up 2% of the population and that 2% owns 10% of Colombia’s land. That is a lot for such a small group. The unrest is because the indigenous people want a piece of land from the government given to each baby boy born. (A lot like the Native Americans and the U.S.) To make things more interesting, it was said that members of the FARC were mixed in among the people, stirring them on, and the president of Bolivia was involved by paying off the people. (The president of Bolivia and President Hugo Chavez of Venezuela are on close terms, if that helps anyone understand the situation a little better – not good.)
Anyway, we had no trouble getting to our destination. Orlando went around the main city where we expected to see the people, and we did see some camped along the side of the road, waiting to march. No big deal.
When we got to the base of our mountain, Alto San José , we found our dear friend Marcos waiting for us at the little store. I was the only girl on this trip to the mountains – I had lucked out on all the others, having a friend along – but I survived. And, I believe my horse was the happiest!!! The two white men where just so big for their horses. My dad said he could tell his horse didn’t want to become supper by the way he was being so careful not to stumble and die!
I mounted “Freddie,” or so I named him, and we went on our way. When putting my life in the control of an animal such as this, I often feel the need to start a friendship. I am certainly no cowboy, so I need my horse to be my friend. Unfortunately, 15 minutes into the trip I found out that my horse was actually a girl not a boy, and I quickly renamed her in order to not offend her. I believe Cindy forgave me.
Somehow I didn’t remember the trail being so steep in some parts. My first trip to visit the Indians we also road horses, but on the second trip we took a small jeep because of the size of the group. Cindy and I did great though, except for the unbelievable swarms of insects!!! We all grabbed branches from nearby trees to smack the horrible things off of our transportation.
Seeing the little white house and the church just up the hill was a sight to behold! At last, we made it! My legs had fallen asleep, so I was stumbling like some drunken person, trying to get off my horse… with no one around to help me! What a mess!
Our time with the Indians was very special. Dad was united with his Colombian mother yet again with the most adorable welcome home ever. All she could say was, “Mi hijo, mi hijo” (my son, my son).
It was exciting this time because the little children weren’t as shy as they usually are when we first arrived. On my other trips, they hardly ever came near us, but this time they ran right up to us to give us big hugs. I became friends with the pastor’s son. He was a little cutie! And before anyone gets the wrong idea, he is a 7-year-old little boy! So no, I have not run off with a Colombian!!!
The church service was great, as always! All Kevin and I both got a chance to say something to the people before Dad and Orlando took over preaching. Pastor Diego of the Indian church was not there because he had gone away to work in the gold mines to earn some extra money. His wife has been leading the church while he is away. Dad took this opportunity to speak about Moses holding up his staff the whole time the Israelite army fought their enemy. And when Moses’ arms got tired, they brought in reinforcements to help him hold up his arms. Dad used this as an illustration that the people need to help lift up their pastor in prayer.
I am proud to say that I had my first cup of coffee ever there in the mountains of Colombia. Not to mention the fact that the coffee was grown right there! It wasn’t so bad after I dumped in 4 scoops of sugar!!!
The next morning, I was so unbelievably sore that I decided I was going to walk down the mountain with Marcos as I had before on a previous trip. There was just no way I could bounce all the way down that mountain on a horse! What a sight! All the men on their horses, and then me, the little girl going to walk down.
It wasn’t so bad except for the fact that the guys took off so fast on their horses to the point where I could no longer see them anymore. I was trying so hard to keep up that I was totally overdoing it. Especially when it began to get hotter as we got lower on the mountain and then the sun came out full force. I thought I was going to die right there on the mountain! Haha!
After going awhile without any sign of the men and only having Marcos, my 4-foot shadow behind me, I decided to start calling out for my dad. We finally found each other, and he ended up giving me his horse for the rest of the way. I had made it more than half of the way down! (This is exciting for me because I am in no way a hiker!) Of course, with the lighter load, Dad’s horse was very happy and anxious to get down the hill. This didn’t help me out at all with the bouncing situation. I wanted to cut my legs off to get rid of the pain. It was horrible! Not to mention the fact that I got the horse for the steepest part of the mountain after a lot of rain the night before. I sure am glad those horses can climb!!!
We all made it… safe and sound. And there were big bottles of cold Coke and Colombiana waiting for us at the bottom of the mountain!!!
