Aracata is a small city accessible on foot or by bicycle. Other modes of transportation include bicitaxis, Indian-manufactured motor rickshaws, cars, buses, trucks (camiones), donkey carts (camion-mula), horse carts, and many, many motorcycles. The roads in town are all a white cement, reminiscent of early cement roads in the US.

While some a few of the commercial and through-streets are teaming with unregulated traffic, many of the side streets are quiet, residential areas with kids playing, elderly strolling and seemingly stray dogs lounging about. People move out of the way when a motorcycle or car comes through, but then wander back into the street when it's clear. As in Barranquilla and Puerto Colombia, there is no sub-surface drainage, so the big rainstorms create fast moving orroyos to the river. It's very flat here, so the water moves more slowly.

On of my early assignments is to walk everywhere. I am fortunate that a staffer in the Municipal Planning Department seems to be free quite a bit and has been assigned to escorting me and introducing me to local leaders. He's been very patient with my stumbling Spanish and simplistic questions. I hope it isn't hurting his credibility to be in this position. We've pretty much covered the city on foot (it's not a big city). Some of our walks have been part of his regular work, seeing that projects are implemented and payments made. I find those to be the most interesting. On one walk we were somewho involved in relocating electric utility wires and hardware from one rented storage room to another. The mode of conveyance was a camion-burro, pictured here. I love the thought of my former employer, Central Maine Power, moving equipment and ladders by donkey cart. The wires are hung so low across the streets here I think a bucket truck would do more damage than good.

Some of the outlying neighborhoods are "invasions" from past years. They were banana plantations, but apparently overnight groups of people moved in, created a very orderly street grid and started building homes. After years of legal battles, I think the Government adopted these invaded areas as neighborhoods and launch various housing improvement programs. The first program was for sites and services, providing water and sewer connections and small lots. The owner/invaders got title to small square lots and were permitted to build homes on them. Some of the owners combined lots and now have relatively large cement homes. Others have not fared as well and have dilapidated cement structures with rusting tin roofs. A few relatively historic wood plank houses are also dotted around the city.

The second big housing initiative included sites, services and I think housing shells. The results look much more uniform and successful, at least newer and in better condition. In the midst of the invaded area, near the river, a new athletic facility has been built. The kids were having a free-for-all soccer matching inside. As will all public infrastructure, building the facility is just the beginning. Public property is abused in a million creative ways, requiring frequent maintenance. I'll be going back pretty soon as the leader of a youth development program lives nearby.

When I first arrived I was warned by the police and by my family not to walk in certain neighborhoods. One of these is close to the athletic field. There is a particular concern about young people smoking marijuana in this neighborhood. That's the only drug I hear mentioned, though I imagine there are others. Alcohol is consumed widely, in public and is not considered in the same category with drugs.

There are several places that draw tourists. The most important is the museum-home of Gabriel Garcia Márquez. I'm including several pictures here. They have done a great job posting excerpts of his words as they speak to different rooms in the house. Aracataca is the mythical Macondo of 100 Years of Solitude, for which Gabo, as he is called here, was awarded a nobel prize for literature. It's a great read. His words in Spanish and English are light and conversational, but the effect is profound.

I have yet to visit some of the other tourist destinations here, such as the telegraph museum and the museum home of a famous photographer, Leo Matiz Espinoza. This is not likely to be a big stop for tourists, but some of the local color makes the visit more fun. Next to the Parque Centrail is Krusy Fast Food.

Next door to Krustys Fast Food is a more significant destination, the Catholic Church next to the Parque Cental. It is being renovated now, so I'm not sure about seeing the inside. The outside is very nice. Last night two cousins (I think) of my family visited. Husband and wife were both dressed in white and were just returning from an evangelical meeting. I was learning a more or less sinful and very macho Vallenato song (La Celosa) from the oldest son in my adoptive family and his very talented musician/friend, so there ensued a discussion about music and sin. As always I only understood a little of the discussion. I think the evangelical church is still gaining members in Colombia and all of south America, but I don't know that either religion is gaining on secularism.

Acacataca has is bisected by a north-south highway as well as a modern freight rail line. The former is a chaotic affair with buses, motorcycles and more passing through. The latter is probably a bigger concern for residents. I hoped it would be a sleepy line that might even become the host of a tourist excursion train. Far from it. Trains pass through approximately every twenty minutes. Each is typically 120 cars long and loaded with coal from mines located well to the south. The trains take a long time to pass, and each crossing has a crossing guard there to stop traffic until the train has passed.Traffic, rather a tangle of traffic, backs up until the train has passed. The tangle manages to untangle and people are on their way again. There is a fair amount of grumbling about the number of level-grade crossings and the long waits a multiple times per day.

I'll finish this walk about with reiterating what I heard a million times in Maine, if you build it you have to maintain it. This is a big challenge for Aracataca. The town is filled with great parks, playgrounds and other athletic facilities gone to seed. Some of them are well maintained and some have fallen to peices. How can we compensate caretakers of the parks and playgrounds to create jobs and promote healthier communities? Send me your ideas at jimfisher101@gmail.com.

Post Script: I'm not a very good photographer, so I'm happy to point readers to someone with a lot of talent. Visit Scott Dalton's Website where he chronicals Gabriel Garcia Márquez' last visit to Aracataca in 2007. Things look pretty much the same.