March 2010: Colombia

Our son Ricky and our daughter Lindy were both born in Colombia, Ricky in 1981 and Lindy in 1984. At that time we were living near Washington, D.C. We were eager to become adoptive parents, and we were very open to the idea of international adoption. A local adoption agency, the Barker Foundation, had a relationship with an agency in Bogotá, Colombia, called FANA (for Fundación para la Asistencia de la Niñez Abandonada, or Foundation for the Assistance of Abandoned Children).
After much discussion and paperwork, and a home study to satisfy Barker and FANA that we were fit to be parents, we applied to adopt a child from FANA. Then we waited, and waited, for the phone call with the news we wanted to hear. It came in September 1981, and in November we got on a plane in Miami, headed for Bogotá to become the parents of a 10-week old boy whose Colombian name was Ricardo Hernandez. A little over two years later, having repeated much of the same application process, a friend went to Colombia on our behalf and brought back an infant girl, Magdalena Garzon Rincon.

We wanted Ricky and Lindy to be proud of their Colombian heritage. Our home has always featured items from Colombia, and we talked often about our adoption experiences and our visit to Bogotá in 1981. But that visit was rushed, and we were preoccupied with paperwork and becoming parents, so we didn't see much of the country. To all four of us, Colombia was more of an abstraction than a reality.

(click on any photo to enlarge)

We knew that one day, we wanted to return there. As Lindy put it, she wanted to know what Colombia looked, felt, sounded and smelled like. Fortunately, we finally got the chance to do this and, miracle of miracles, we were able to do it together. On February 28, the four of us boarded a plane in Miami, headed for Bogotá.

Marcia had spent many hours e-mailing people as we prepared for the trip, and we had worked hard to make sure we had our plans in order. We had some nervous moments about a week before we were scheduled to leave when we found a State Department bulletin saying that anyone born in Colombia might require a Colombian passport to enter the country. After some hasty phone calls to the Colombian embassy in Washington and the consulate in San Francisco, we established that, according to the law, this would not apply to Ricky or Lindy. We got an e-mail to that effect from the consulate in Washington, but we didn't know whether the airport immigration officer would have the same interpretation. We kept our fingers crossed.

On February 28 (Marcia's birthday) we arrived at the Miami airport at 3:30 A.M., because our flight left at 6:30, and our airline, Avianca, told us to be there three hours early. Most other people on the flight knew that this silly rule didn't mean anything, so we had the terminal to ourselves until about 5 A.M., when the shops began to open and we could get coffee and food.

On board the flight, Avianca (Colombia's national airline) served us a hot breakfast, something we hadn't seen on an airplane in many years. Just as in 1981, our flight took us over Cuba, which seemed odd, since we were looking down on a country that we could not legally travel to.

We arrived at Bogotá's El Dorado Airport in mid-morning. Despite our worries about the interrogation Ricky and Lindy might face, we breezed through Colombian Immigration. A luggage handler put our bags on a cart and guided us through customs, which was also very easy, and got us a taxi, a small Kia sedan. With the trunk filled to capacity and everyone carrying something in their laps, we managed to squeeze ourselves and our stuff into the car.

Because Lindy works for a Marriott hotel, we had made reservations at the less-than-year-old Bogotá Marriott, which turned out to be a great choice. It was a short drive from the airport, which also put it on the side of the city closest to FANA. Most of the staff was fluent in English, and we got the employee rate on Lindy's and Ricky's rooms. Marcia's and Tom's room was on the concierge floor, where we had access to a lounge that provided the 4 of us with breakfast in the morning and drinks and snacks in the evenings.

We were a little unsettled by the guards and bomb-sniffing dogs at the hotel entrance, but we soon learned that this was standard in any public building in Bogotá. Every time we returned to the hotel, the dog needed to sniff any bags we we carrying. Over the course of 10 days in Colombia, we never felt unsafe, but we were always aware that security was far greater than in the U.S. 

We were all tired from our short night in Miami but we were determined to make the most of our time in Bogotá. We got one of the hotel taxis to take us to the Usaquén neighborhood, where we knew that there would be stores and restaurants to occupy us. Our driver, Jorge, spoke little English, but Lindy has enough Spanish that, in combination with her interpersonal skills, she was able to communicate with him. Ricky also had enough command of Spanish to help out. We got by, thanks in part to the patience of so many of the Colombian people we came into contact with, but we all want to improve our Spanish skills before our next trip to South America.

The trip across town gave us our first real taste of Bogotá's traffic, and also of its scenic setting next to the eastern range of the Andes.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and on the central square in Usaquén there were many performers, including this woman giving a dramatic presentation in hopes of getting tips from passersby.

There was also a local artisans market with nice crafts.  Lindy bought coffee bean earrings, and there was interesting art, as well as jewelry, T-shirts and food.

To celebrate our arrival in Colombia, we went to Tienda de Café. The name translates as "coffee shop," but it was a very cool place, with murals on the walls. The vivacious, English-speaking hostess made us feel very welcome and brought us sample glasses of sangria to try. There were colorful plants, Latin music and a party atmosphere.

When Lindy told the hostess it was Marcia's birthday, she came with balloons in the colors of the Colombian flag to tape on the ceiling over our table.

We had a pitcher of sangria and shared foods, including the excellent parrillada, a mixed grill of various meats and other Colombian specialties. When Lindy ordered a specialty margarita with uchuva, a unique fruit which we didn't know, the hostess brought us a dish of them to share. It is also called Cape Gooseberry, and it looks like a golden cherry tomato but tastes like a pineapple/tomato combination. When we finished, the hostess brought several co-workers with her to sing happy birthday to Marcia in Spanish and give her a brownie and ice cream with a candle. It was a memorable evening.

The bill came, and it was over $200,000! Fortunately, that was in Colombian pesos, which translated to about US$100. (They use $ for pesos, which was confusing at first.) When we left, we were surprised to find our driver, Jorge, waiting for us nearby. Either he didn't want to deal with the traffic going back to the hotel, or he was worried that we would get lost. In either case, it was a nice gesture, and one of many kindnesses that we experienced on the part of drivers, hotel and restaurant people, and other Colombians we connected with during our visit.

The next day was the centerpiece of our trip – our visit to FANA. When we were adopting both Ricky and Lindy, we had come into contact with a social worker there named Flor Angela Rojas. As we prepared for this trip, we learned that she was still with FANA, now as the director of social services, and Marcia had e-mailed her to let her know we would be coming. Flor Angela suggested coming on this day in part because a Colombian family would be there to receive their newly adopted daughter.

When we arrived, Johanna Hjerthen, FANA's administrative director, introduced us to another FANA returnee, Sam, who was adopted in 1987 by a family in Sydney, Australia. It was his first return visit to FANA, too. Johanna took us on a tour and explained the four programs that FANA is currently responsible for: a home for unwed mothers, Margarita Hogar (in a separate facility nearby); placement of children for adoption; a large preschool for local children; and the care of at-risk older children, up to age 13. The latter two programs are in conjunction with city and federal agencies.

FANA was founded in 1972 and since then, has placed more than 14,000 children for adoption. Since Ricky and Lindy were there, FANA has moved to a new building in the Suba neighborhood on the north edge of the city.

"In gratitude for their generous support" is the title of this plaque at the entrance to FANA, showing the many countries where families have been touched by FANA's activities.

The grounds of the facility, which opened in 1995, are like a park with lots of grass and playground areas. All the staff were in uniforms or smocks, and masks are used by staff dealing with infants. We saw a group of three children who were born 18 to 21 months ago, placed at FANA, and are still waiting for paperwork to clear so they could be placed for adoption. The laws make adopting difficult and slow, even for Colombian families, who have priority over families from overseas. This is one reason why FANA has expanded its scope to include preschool and other initiatives not specifically related to adoption.  At FANA's request, we are not including pictures of the beautiful children we saw.

However, on this day, there would be a placement, and Ricky and Lindy were surprised when they were asked to play a role in it. A local family was to receive their new daughter, born December 9th. Family and friends had gathered for the event, and Flor Angela asked the returning adoptees to participate in the ceremony. Lindy, flanked by Ricky and Sam,  carried the baby into the room where the new parents were waiting and placed her into their arms. It was an emotional event for everyone involved – family, friends, and all of us. 

Afterward, the family graciously invited us to join them in their celebration. It was a wonderful opportunity for us to meet Colombians, many of whom were interested in our family's story. Sam is on the right in this photo, and FANA's director, Elena Martinez Pineda Lopez, is behind Lindy.

Elena is the daughter of Mercedes Rosario de Martinez, FANA's president and founder, who we also met with while we were there.

In the afternoon, Ricky and Lindy each spent time with Flor Angela going through their adoption files and learning a few new facts about their birth parents. We had arrived at FANA at 10 A.M. and we stayed until 4 P.M., when a driver from the hotel came to pick us up. It was an exhausting day full of poignancy for all of us, but one that greatly deepened our emotional ties to Colombia and to FANA. None of us had known what to expect, but we were all gratified by the warm reception we got from everyone at FANA, and by the unexpected opportunity to participate in the placement of a baby with her new family.

We spent the next two days touring in and around Bogotá with an excellent driver and guide, Juan Manuel.

We had contacted him because he has for many years served as a driver for overseas families coming to FANA to adopt. We learned that both his father and his brother have also driven for FANA families.

We decided to devote our first day with Juan Manuel to visiting the Salt Cathedral, about an hour north of Bogotá near the town of Zipaquirá. The Salt Cathedral occupies part of a huge salt deposit, most of which is devoted to commercial mining. Salt has been mined at this location for more than 2,000 years.

The cathedral originated as a sanctuary for the mine's workers and was eventually expanded to become a site for public worship. Strictly speaking, it is not a cathedral, but it is used as a church facility. The original Salt Cathedral opened in 1954 but was closed due to safety concerns in 1990, and was replaced by the current facility in 1995.

You enter the catheral through a long underground hallway. As you make your way from the entrance toward the church itself, you pass stations of the cross, each one in a somewhat different style – some carved out of the salt, and some carved into the salt. The lighting at each station makes for some dramatic effects.

The stations are both contemporary and abstract, with crosses in different forms and positions representing the meaning of each station.  Each one has kneeling benches and a few well-placed white or blue lights.  The salt, which is grey and black due to impurities, cannot be easily carved into rounded shapes and curves, so the geometric cross shapes work well.

Finally, you reach an overlook where you can view the central nave of the cathedral.

There are many alcoves with statues and religious icons, including this nativity scene.

On this statue of Jesus being taken down from the Cross, the faces reflect the features of the area's indigenous peoples.

Overall, the Salt Cathedral is a very effective and uniquely inspiring place.

On the way back to Bogotá, we stopped for lunch at Sanalejo restaurant in Cajicá. As was true at several of the Colombian restaurants we visited, the biggest section of the menu consisted of items "de la parrilla," or "from the grill."

There were two common themes among the restaurants we visited in Colombia: delicious, high-quality food; and good values, especially in comparison with the U.S. Many of the sauces and seasonings were novel to our taste buds, but the food was not hot or spicy. We would happily return to Colombia just for the opportunity to savor more of the country's food.

On our second day with Juan Manuel, we decided to go into the city to see the Museo del Oro, or Gold Museum. The operators of the city's mini-bus routes, which serve many local neighborhoods, had gone on strike the previous day. That didn't affect us much when we went to the Salt Cathedral but it certainly had an impact on traffic going into the city, especially in combination with the weather (rainy) and the fact that the main thoroughfare between the Marriott and downtown was closed by a construction project. We spent a lot of time getting into the city, staring at the brake lights of Bogotá's little yellow taxis.

The Gold Museum covers the history of how gold and other precious metals were used in various societies in the regions of present-day Colombia. It's as much a history of people as it is of gold. In fact, there was no intrinsic value for gold in early times. It was valued because it reflected the sun, bringing attention to the chief and made him look more godly. The museum is a very popular place, with lots of people speaking Spanish, some English and several groups touring. There are lots of ancient artifacts, and we learned about various methods of making gold objects. Most of the objects on display had symbolic value in the belief systems of the cultures that created them.

When we left, we visited the nearby Iglesia de San Francisco, the city's first colonial church, completed in 1567, with its ornate altarpiece.

We crossed Avenida Jimenez, where many emerald dealers were gathered to transact business with each other. One gentleman followed Lindy when she expressed interest in the gems he had in his folded white papers. There were thousands of dollars' worth of emeralds in little paper packets being displayed on a main street of Bogotá – but no security at all in evidence here, unlike almost every other public place in the city.

After stopping at an artisans' market to buy souvenirs, we drove into La Candelaria, Bogotá's oldest neighborhood, for lunch at Fulanito's. It had a great view overlooking the red tile roofs of the Candelaria. Once again, terrific food and we were the only diners there.

Our last stop of the day was Cerro de Monserrate, a 10,341-foot peak with a shrine at the top. Aside from hiking to the top, there are two ways to ascend Cerro de Monserrate: a cable car (not in service this day) or this funicular, a cog railway that opened in 1929.

From the station where we get off the funicular, it was still a long walk with many stairs and/or ramps to the shrine at the top of the mountain. We were rewarded with spectacular, 180-degree views of the city. Bogotá is incredibly large and spread out.

Inside the basilica, instead of a crucifix above the altar there is a statue of the "Fallen Jesus" that is an iconic part of Colombian religious culture, and the object of veneration by pilgrims who flock here, especially on Sundays.

The return trip to our hotel – a distance of perhaps 10 miles – took two hours, through some of the worst traffic any of us had ever seen. These cars were using the sidewalk to maneuver their way into one jammed intersection.

Traffic never stopped completely but there were many near-accidents. We were impressed that people never seemed frustrated or angry; there weren't even many people honking their horns. Juan Manuel even remained calm when another driver cut him off in the middle of an intersection. We were grateful to him for sharing his knowledge of Bogotá with us, for leading us to a couple of excellent restaurants, and for other things he did to make our two days with him pleasant and productive. But more than anything else, we were grateful that he navigated us through Bogotá's fearsome traffic congestion safely and without incident.

One other thing that Juan Manuel did for us was to suggest a good place to shop for Colombian crafts. There are major craft stores in downtown Bogotá that we had thought about visiting, but we were reluctant to venture into the same traffic morass that we had dealt with in going to the Gold Museum and Monserrate. Juan Manuel told us about another store, Artesanías Makú, that was much more convenient. He wouldn't be available to take us there, but on our last full day in Bogotá, one of the hotel's drivers, Rafael, easily found it, and we spent more than an hour in the store picking out items to take home for friends (and for ourselves).

After a return visit to Tienda de Café, Rafael met us (as Jorge did earlier in the week, Rafael had waited for us rather than return to the hotel) and took us back to the Marriott. Not quite done with shopping, we went to a mall near the hotel, Salitre Plaza, that resembled a suburban U.S. shopping mall, but with a definite Colombian accent. Tom and Ricky walked back to the hotel while Marcia and Lindy continued their shopping. When they called the hotel for a taxi, it didn't show up, but they finally reached Tom who commandeered a taxi to go rescue them. We celebrated the successful conclusion of our visit to Bogotá with shots of aguardiente in the Marriott's lounge.

The next morning, we went to the airport to catch our flight to Cartagena.  We left from the domestic terminal, so all announcements were in Spanish, but we managed to do everything right and our flight left on time. 70 minutes later, we were in Cartagena.

In contrast to Bogotá, Cartagena was humid and steamy; we got our bags quickly and met the hotel driver outside the terminal. We squeezed ourselves and our luggage into the small car for the 10-minute drive to our hotel, Casa La Fe. There was much less traffic than in Bogotá. We passed beaches with strong surf, and soon we came within sight of the old walled city, which has been listed as a World Heritage site by UNESCO. We entered through a narrow portal, and found ourselves on narrow streets lined with colonial-era buildings, many of them featuring balconies with lush flowers.

Soon we arrived at Casa La Fe, a 14-room hotel facing Parque Fernandez de Madrid.

We checked in to our three rooms, tired and sweaty but in need of some food. Monica, the wonderful English-speaking clerk at the front desk, recommended Mila, about 4 blocks away. We walked along the small narrow streets with cars, pedestrians, street vendors and dogs all sharing space. Mila was blessedly air-conditioned, and we enjoyed sandwiches and flavored lemonade frappes. It was just what we needed. It was breezy when we finished eating, so we walked to the wall and along the top for a short distance, which gave us good views both of old city and of the modern resorts on the Boca Grande peninsula.

Vendors were everywhere and we were amused by all the dogs lying on their sides to cool off.

After it got dark, we hired a horse-drawn carriage near the hotel and took a night tour within the walls of the city.

Our guide's Spanish was slow and clear as he explained the sights, so we were able to understand some of what he was telling us. The city looked very beautiful with dramatic lighting at the plazas and historic buildings.

We started to walk back, looking for a restaurant. We found Plaza Majagua, on the same square as our hotel.

There was no room on the patio and no air conditioning inside, but we decided to stay anyway. It was a good choice. The food was mostly grilled meats and fish costing $6 - $13 US. As our food was arriving, a band arrived to play in the mostly empty dining room.

We had a couple of rounds of Club Colombia beer, followed by shots of aguardiente. We left happy, after a fun evening of partying. We learned the next morning that Lindy had returned to party some more, with the band singing to her when she was almost the last one there.

The next day, we took a taxi to the San Felipe de Barajas fortress, which was constructed over a period of more than 200 years beginning in 1536. It represents the largest defensive complex erected by the Spanish in the New World.

The walls of the fortress are sloped at an angle designed to deflect cannon balls. An elaborate system of tunnels lies below the fortress, which allowed soldiers to move from one part of the complex to  another without exposing themselves to enemy fire.

The Spanish defenders of Cartagena suffered one major defeat, to the French admiral and privateer Baron de Pointis in 1697. But the shining moment for the Spanish came in 1741, when a force of approximately 6,000 defeated a British assault of Cartagena led by Vice-Admiral Edward Vernon, leading 26,000 men and 80 ships. Today, Vernon is mocked for having prematurely ordered medals celebrating his anticipated victory over the Spanish.

We spent some time in the beach resort district along the Boca Grande peninsula, but found little there that appealed to us, so we returned to Casa La Fe to enjoy the air conditioning in our rooms for a time, and then went back out into the old city. We returned to Mila for lunch, and then explored some of the streets that we hadn't covered earlier. Colombia is a major source of emeralds, and having turned down the opportunity to buy one from a street vendor in Bogotá, Lindy found a reputable source for one in Cartagena. She found one she liked at a store across the street from the San Pedro Claver Church.

Cartagena was the center of the Spanish slave trade. In the early 17th century, a Catholic priest, Pedro Claver, became known for his ministry to the city's slave population, and the church bearing his name is a prominent landmark in the old city.

The next morning we had a surprise encounter at Casa La Fe. An American couple, about our age, was seated near us at breakfast, and we learned that they were on a trip similar to ours – a few days in Bogotá, followed by a few days in Cartagena. Soon a young woman (their daughter, as it turned out) and a young man (the daughter's husband) joined them. The daughter had been adopted from FANA in 1981. She had sought out her birth mother, and had met with her a few days earlier in Bogotá. Our families had a lot to talk about, and this experience added an unexpected dimension to our Colombian journey.

We had tried to book a boat trip to one of the islands near Cartagena, but for two days running it was canceled due to heavy seas. Our next choice for a trip that would take us out of the city was to go to the El Totumo "mud volcano," an experience that Sam from Australia had recommended when we were at FANA. It was an afternoon tour, and would take approximately three hours, we were told.

A tour guide with a small van picked us up around 2:30, and we were off to the mud volcano with six other tourists from Colombia and Germany. We didn't know quite what to expect, but we all brought our bathing suits so that we could experience the mud baths that we understood would be available. The trip to the mud volcano – about 50 km north of Cartagena, on the road to Barranquilla – gave us a view of rural life, including people doing errands on donkeys that, in suburban California, would be done with a car. There were also a couple of security checkpoints with armed soldiers, where we had to stop so our driver could identify himself and explain what we were doing. We don't know whether this was routine or if there was some specific reason for them, but they were slightly unnerving.

At the end of our journey, we turned off at the sign for Totumo mud volcano, and followed a dirt road down a hill, at the end of which we could see a mud pyramid with a rickety wooden staircase. Behind the "volcano" was a tidal lagoon, which, we learned, was to be used to rinse off after the mud bath.

At the top of the pyramid was a pit about 15' by 15', full of people covered in mud.

We all stood there thinking about whether we were ready to “take the plunge” when Ricky commented that since he had suggested doing this, he would be the first in. The young local men in the mud (the ones wearing caps in the photo) provided a “massage” (actually, a public rubbing) in the mudpit. Ricky tried to decline, but to no avail.  Tom was next in and he also got a rubbing, and Marcia followed but firm in declining the massage treatment. Lindy was last, getting fully covered in mud and staying long after the rest of us had escaped.

The mud was warm but lumpy and very buoyant. It's supposed to be good for your skin, but the experience was on the weird side. We had asked the guide whether we needed towels, and she assured us they were not necessary. Really? We climbed out of the pit on the slippery, mud-covered ladder. The day had turned cool and breezy, so there we were, covered with mud, wanting only to get dry and warm, but knowing that we somehow had to get the mud off.

A shaky railing guided us down to ground level, but as we descended, the surface beneath our feet was wet, slick and very uneven. Once down, we headed off on the rocky path to the lagoon, or “swamp” as our tour guide called it, about 500 feet away. Local women in vests certifying them as tourism employees were there to help people rinse off, but the Murray men declined.  Lindy and Marcia needed help (especially with Lindy's long hair covered in mud), but even after being in the lagoon and having water poured on us, there was plenty of mud in our suits.  After some watermelon (Tom and Marcia) and beer (Ricky and Lindy) we boarded the van again in our soggy, muddy bathing suits for the return to Cartagena. Once back at our hotel, we all took showers and put on clean, dry clothes.

We were glad to have had the mud volcano experience, simply to know what it was like, but it's not likely to be one we repeat on our next trip to Colombia.

For dinner, we took a short walk to Torre Luna, about a block away from Casa La Fe. We were the only ones there, and food was (not surprisingly) very good. The church across the street had a mass underway and we thought there would be an influx of people once the service was over, but there wasn't. For over an hour, we had Torre Luna to ourselves. 

On our last day in Cartagena we didn't set any specific goals, but we did spend more time walking around the old city and seeing some of the things we had missed earlier. One of those was the Palace of the Inquisition. Much of the museum's subject matter involves the Spanish Inquisition, while other rooms are dedicated to a more general history of the city. Trials of alleged heretics took place in Cartagena over a period beginning in the early 1600s and lasting until Spanish rule ended in 1821.

During this time several hundred suspected heretics (as well as supposed witches and other evildoers) were persecuted by various means, and many were executed. However, the Cartagena museum is devoted to the Inquisition as a whole, not just to the trials and persecution of victims in the city. For this reason, many of the torture devices on display carry a notation saying that they were not used in Cartagena. Regardless, the fact that the devices were used anywhere is chilling.

Among them are the horquilla del hereje, or heretic's fork, which was designed to ensure that the victim could not talk or move his head.

El aplasta cabezas, or the head crusher, is another device used during the inquisition. The pressure was increased on the head by squeezing it between the two surfaces and tightening.

In the afternoon, after a lunch of pizza at an Argentinian restaurant, Tango Feroz, we went to the Bóvedas, or vaults, which were constructed in the 1790s as barracks for soliders, and have also been used as a jail. Today the buidling houses craft shops that are popular with visitors including busloads of tourists off cruise ships stopping at Cartagena.

This is one of the many tourist buses we saw at the Bóvedas.

On our last evening in Cartagena, we walked to the Hotel Charleston Santa Teresa and got a table on the patio outdoors. We had drinks and appetizers, with great ambiance. The patio was candle-lit, the horses went clip-clopping by, and the night air was breezy and very pleasant.

The day of our departure began with a torrential rainstorm. We departed for the airport at 6:30 A.M. in two tiny taxis. When we got there we began to negotiate the most intense airport security cordon we have ever seen. Before we even got to the check-in counter, Ricky was pulled out of line for a random search, and had his big 40-pound duffel emptied out, including opening up a cardboard tube containing two paintings he had bought. It took about ten minutes, and even though he was very cooperative and wasn't carrying anything suspicious, it was slightly unnerving.

We got boarding passes for our Avianca flight to Miami and checked our luggage, and then it was on to more security checks:
– A U.S.-style metal detector and carry-on x-ray, where an agent who thought Marcia was traveling alone asked her, why are you in Colombia and where is your family?
– Wanding with a hand-held metal detector and pat-down for each of us.
– Opening of every piece of carry-on luggage by a guard.
– Getting our passports stamped by Colombian immigration. Ricky was asked if he had a Colombian passport, to which he responded "no." To our relief, the officer didn''t pursue that line of questioning, nor did he have any questions for Lindy once she told him that Ricky was her brother.
– Another, pre-boarding metal detector and x-ray at the gate.
– And finally, within ten feet of the door out of the terminal, another random search of carry-on luggage. None of us were selected, but one unlucky gentleman had something the security people didn't like and after several minutes of discussion, they confiscated the item.

Once we boarded the plane for Miami, the trip was uneventful, and we had our last Colombian meal of the trip (a nicely seasoned beef dish) courtesy of Avianca, while flying over the Caribbean. All three of our Avianca flights were very pleasant experiences. The coach-class amenities are superior to first-class services on most US airlines. As on the trip from Miami to Bogota, our route took us over central Cuba.

In Miami, we cleared U.S. Customs and Immigration without too much delay, retrieved our luggage, and headed to American Airlines to check in for our flights to Boston (Ricky) and San Francisco (the rest of us).

None of us knew exactly what to expect from our trip to Colombia, but we all agreed that it had been a satisfying and productive journey. The most rewarding part of it was meeting Colombians from diverse backgrounds, and learning about the similarities and differences between Colombia and the U.S.

There is no question that, overall, life is harder for many Colombians than it is for most of the Americans we know. But the warm welcome we received from virtually everyone we met there left us with a warm and positive feeling about the country. More than ever, Ricky and Lindy can feel proud of their Colombian heritage.

You can see additional photos from this trip at our Picasa web page.

Text and images ©2010 Tom and Marcia Murray 

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