what Colombia has on India....

5 November 2007: Linda's email update on life in Colombia. Enjoy.

Guerrilla takeovers of isolated towns, like the one I was just in!

The following is a true story that transpired about 2 hours ago in a small pueblo called Salento in the zona cafetera de Colombia...

It went something like this. I´d gotten back from a trip to the Parque Nacional de Cafe (too Disneyland for me, but no matter) and spent an hour or so window shopping in the adorable storefronts that make up the Calle Real. I had taken all my stuff with me, in preparation to head to the nearby vereda Boquia later in the evening. At some point I decided I was hungry and headed to a restaurant on the plaza.

I walked in and noticed that the only customers were a couple finishing their meal, despite that fact that the place was huge and had a 6 or 7 person staff. No matter, I was hungry. I ordered bandeja paisa and a beer, and sat down to wait.

As the waiter brought me the beer, a waitress screamed something about guerrillas and ran to the front windows to close the large, wooden shutters... there were a few seconds when everyone seemed to be watching her and in awe. Then, everyone was running around agitated and talking on cell phones. Occasionally someone would glance out the window or door and comment on the people running through the plaza. The people who worked there, presumably from the area, seemed terrified and confused about what to do... there was discussion about whether we should stay locked up in the restaurant with all the shades closed pretending that the place was closed for the night, or if we should all go home. Several people seemed to think it was very dangerous to go out into the street and especially into the plaza.

Presumably the cellphone conversations revealed that the guerrilla was poised on the Mirador on the edge of town and seemed to be advancing (when I asked how this info came to us, no one would give me an answer.. one guy said, ¨Everybody knows.¨ You´ve got to wonder how this scene would have played out before the age of cell phones.) After a panicked 5 minutes with everyone huddled around the kitchen, a consensus emerged that we should all leave the building and get the hell away from the plaza.

Here arose a slightly sticky situation for your dear Lindahop... that being, 1 I had no where to go since I´d left my hostel and there were likely no more rooms available, 2 there was no way I was going to wait around indefinitely in the plaza for the bus, as I´d planned, 3 the hostel where I´d stayed was in the direction of the advancing guerrilla...

So, I asked one of the waiters where to go, and he said to wait for the bus with a frightened huddle on one side of the plaza. Thinking of the US passport in my bag, I immediately rejected this advice and knocked on the window of the car of another waiter as it was pulling out of its parking space... ¨Can you drop me off at a hostel, anywhere, pleeeease?¨ I begged, and to good effect. The guy and his friend brought me to a town about 20 minutes away...en route, he talked on his cell to someone still in the town. It seems that the guerrilla is advancing, although this person hadn´t yet seen them.

The waiters told me the guerrilla is based close-ish to Salento, but doesn´t come by town much these days, given the strong military presence in the area. Tonight´s case is special because the guerrilla´s preferred candidate lost in last Sunday´s elections, and presumably the guerrilla wants to teach the town a lesson.

The waiters were afraid of bombs more than anything else, though they nodded in agreement when I expressed my concern about being kidnapped.......

Exciting stuff, no? Much as I´m glad I got away so fast--and happy to see I can keep my presence of mind in a tense situation--the journalist in me is dying to be back there to see what this looks like....

Love,
Your favorite escape artist