​Colombia, compared to Canada is a poor country, but life in a Colombian city like Medellin, is not really all that different from life in a Canadian city. The levels of poverty are higher, but the levels of Paisas (a person from Antioquia, but more specifically Medellin) living in relative comfort are also significantly higher than in more rural regions in Colombia. Then, you visit La Guajira, the northern most desert department of Colombia, and poverty takes on new meaning.

I think La Guajira is a place every traveller to Colombia should go, especially if your typical vacation idea is an all-inclusive Caribbean resort. I also think it is a place all Colombians should visit, just like I feel the Canadian North is a place all Canadians should visit (and by this I mean the TRUE north, not Northern Ontario cottage country, or anything north of Edmonton). This place has stunning desert meets ocean landscapes on one hand, and gut-wrenching poverty and desperation on the other. Have I sold you yet?

Life in Medellin is pretty nice, but in the spring time the smog tends to hang heavy in the valley, and you curse the lack of natural escapes. My biggest gripe about life in Medellin is the lack of green space for a city of its size. The pollution is something that is not often discussed when people talk of Colombia, and much of the country does not have this problem, but this is Medellin. It is built in a valley, and when the wind stops blowing in the spring, there is no moving the smog, and pico y placa (the rotating prohibitive driving scheme based on licence plate numbers aimed to reduce the number of cars on the road) makes only marginal difference to the air quality. The drowned town of Peñol, which lies submerged under the lake adjacent to the town of Guatapé, is a popular spot an hour and half or so down the road, but if you seek a bit more adventure, natural beauty, and less tourists, then the small town of San Luis and the river Dormilón, is place worth your time!

​One of the most significant, unique and beautiful cultural traditions in Colombia happens on the eve of the Immaculate Conception (Catholic recognition of the immaculate conception of Mary and a public holiday in places around the world). On this night, everyone in towns and cities all over Colombia sets out candles and lanterns to pay hommage to The Virgin Mary. Beyond that it is an opportunity for community building, revelry, and is seen as the festive, but unofficial, beginning of the Christmas season.

Our work days in Colombia are long. We are up at 5am to take the school transit to work, which leaves at 6am. We leave to return home between 330-4pm. This may not sound like a big deal to some of you, but bad traffic can make the journey (home in particular) - though it is only 9km from our house, a 1-2 hour ordeal. This puts us at home between 530-6pm. That is just a 12 hour day, you say? Bear in mind that we have three children, and our mini 4 year old, after 8 hours of school, and no food since 1145am, is often a "delight" under these circumstances. When we return home, it is homework, supper and more or less bed for these niñas. Just to get up and do it all again. I know, it sounds glamourous right? Needless to say, when a long weekend rolls around, we are more than ready for a few days off, and ready to get out and see what has proven to be a much larger country than I originally imagined. Afterall, if we wanted to do the 9-5 grind, we could have stayed home in Canada with the comfort of family, friends, and a familiar language (and decidedly worse weather).

When you choose to uproot your family and live a non-traditional life, there is always the lingering doubt that you have made a horrible mistake, and that you have made a terrible decision, and that there is a good reason why people general, do not choose to live as you do. This was all magnified yesterday as our three year old faced deportation, and our nine year old oozed blood from her left ear.
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Yesterday was one of the biggest tests the homeless Hartlen’s have faced since departing on this almost non-stop journey in December of 2012. Ultimately I think we will be fine, we have a few days to sort out the pending deportation of our three year old, and our eldest’s bleeding ears, while still causing her much pain and throwing vacation plans into question, is on the mend.

Lessons learned yesterday: Colombian immigration has little sympathy for late visa applications, even if it is only by ten days, and even if the person in question is only three. The courier system between Colombia and New Zealand actually works amazingly well (I should point out now that this is all my fault, but I am not completely ready to admit that in tedious detail just yet). The Colombian healthcare system, despite being a “developing” country is first rate, and surprisingly expedient. I will wager though, that when an obviously distressed minor starts oozing liquid from her ear whilst awaiting treatment, this tends to expedite said treatment. Finally, due to my still sadly lacking Spanish skills I would have been much poorer and more frustrated were it not for our amazing Colombian family support system of Sylvana, who sorted out our health insurance issues, and Rafa, who helped Stephanie with the immigration process.

One week of life in Colombia has proven my initial pre-conception that no amount of preparation would brace me for the lived experience of la vida en Colombia. Two weeks ago, while still in Canada, I was asked about a thousand times: “are you excited to be moving to Colombia?” And, while I said “yes of course”, the reality was that I was in fact indifferent, or even apprehensive, with many unanswered questions and still having little knowledge about the country itself aside from its checkered past, now glorified by Narcos.

How quickly things can change. Exactly seven days in, I could see myself having a long future in Colombia!