Bienvenidos a Colombia - It's Quite the Welcome

Of the 2 weeks we spent getting from Ecuador to Costa Rica, passing through Ipiales, a border town between Colombia and Ecuador, was definitely one of the weirdest parts of the trip. We tried to get tickets to Bogota as soon as we arrived, but the buses weren't running for a few days, so we found a hotel near the bus station. It actually worked out well though because one night we found 140,000 Colombian pesos just sprinkled on the floor in front of our room! Now that sounds like a lot of money, but in US bucks it's only $75.00. Still, pretty random. We think it belonged to the drunk couple making loud noises next door. By the time we found it, they were long gone.

We spent the next few days touring the town and what was around. The most memorable attraction was the gothic cathedral of Las Lajas, just a short taxi ride from the city. Dramatically decorated with countless spires and colorful stained glass, the church looks just like a fairy tale castle. So romantic! It's built right into the rocky mountainside and surrounded by waterfalls. Trails take you every which way to walk up and down the gorge and explore the intense architecture. It's definitely a magnificent place to photograph.

Eventually we were able to buy our bus tickets to Bogota. About 20 minutes before boarding, three Colombian cops came over to us (the only backpackers) asking to see our passports. They annoyingly made us accompany them upstairs to a private room so that they could check our bags. We figured they were looking for drugs or weapons. We asked if we would miss our bus and they assured us we wouldn't. Whatever. We just hoped it would be quick and we could get going. On the way up, the head guy asks Javier who I am. (A Chilean and an American travelling together. Ooooh, how suspicious.) I told him I spoke Spanish and that he could speak to me directly. He said that with my passport, I'm not exactly welcome on his turf and that I should be careful about who I tell that I'm American to while passing through Colombia. Que cajones!

We got into the room and the men started opening our bags and pulling everything out. Meanwhile, they made Javier go into the bathroom and take his clothes off down to his underwear, searching every pocket and seam, even sniffing his pants on the inside. I was kind of getting freaked out that they would make me do the same thing, but they didn't. After they didn't find whatever it is they were looking for, they acted all buddy buddy with us saying how wonderful Bogota is and how much we'd enjoy it. They helped us put our things away and we asked them if we had anything to worry about on the ride through the mountains up to the capital. They told us that the highways were safe because the military had taken back the roads from the FARC. However, if anyone came on the bus with a ski mask, their advice to me specifically was to not show my American passport and to pretend that I was mentally retarded so that nobody would bother me. Bienvenidos to Colombia! It's quite the welcome.

Before they escorted us back to our bus, I gave them each a photograph I had taken on the journey. I do hope their memory of this American is more fond than the memory they left with me.