Cultural differences

   We stopped in Popayan on our way north through Columbia, taking a day to enjoy the repetitive streets of uniform white colonial architecture.  Not much really happened to us in Popayan other than to find that the locals are very friendly.  Only one example of many: a lady saw us from her window as we were wandering around at 9pm trying to find our hostel and insisted on coming out ot show us the way.

   Salento was another new experience for us.  It was a place filled with other backpackers but none the poorer for it.  We met several new friends including yet another person, Jake, with an East Sheen connection having been at A-level college with Kiz and coincidentally his mother lived in the same block of flats as Kizzy´s dad.  We were also fortunate to run into Ash, Rachel and Sophie again.  Having last seen them in Uyuni in Bolivia we were surprised when they turned up in our hostel in Salento.  Incidentally, girls, if you are reading this blog, we have your balsamic vinegar which you left behind and we´re staying in Casa Viena in Cartagena.  It´s in the lonely planet guidebook.  Drop me a quick email and maybe we can return it to you tomorrow.

   On one of the sunnier days we took a jeep to the Valle de Cocora afor a nice day walk with several other backpackers up to a hummingbird sanctuary.  Along with beautiful mountain scenery and futile attempts to capture (photograph, not cage) humingbirds in mid-hover, our highlight was the lady running the cafe.  With our broken spanish it took a bit of time to get the conversation going.  It wasn´t until we got up to leave that tings really got going.

   She questioned us about the cultural differences between Columbia and the UK.  "Why are you carryng the bags?" she asked Jake, "in Columbia, no man ever carries anything."  It turns out that in Columbia men do not carry bags, they don´t carry babies, they don´t do the cooking or the cleaning.  In fact they don´t do anything that has ever in any culture been considered "woman´s work" because: "they are afraid it will make them gay".

   Our charming and now very talkative host proceeded to praise the virtues of English men and their chivalrous carrying of bags, all the while setting forth the littany of failures of her husband´s sons.  They do nothing from what I can hear, the worst of them has left home and gone to Spain where "he has a car and a motorcycle but he never sends us any money!"  Mum, sorry but as I don´t yet have a car or a motorcycle (or for that matter a salary) it might be a while before you get any remittances.

A wasp eating a tarantula ... because who wouldn't be interested in that!