If you’ve read this blog from when I used to walk around Key West you’ll know the cemetery was one of my favorite open spaces in town. I know that some people get wigged out by the reminder of mortality that comes with these places but I love the history and the expression of local culture found in the cimenterio.
The statue above greets you at the entrance, a representation in one stone block carved to remind visitors of a local character remembered fondly as you see him here, with his transistor radio his stick and his cigar. And his hat; there are so many hats all over the cemetery.
The character below was known for his bag and his stick apparently. In the photo you can see the strap of his bag over his shoulder.
I noticed a couple of things here that I’m not used to. One is that many graves only show the date of death which is weird and uninformative. I don’t know why but I like to check out a person’s age. Maybe I like to commiserate when they were younger than me or perhaps I’m hoping they are cheering me on if they died older than I am now, at 66. This one made it to 99 and six months! So close…
The other thing I noticed was how Catholic the makes are. Colombia is a strongly Catholic country apparently and it shows. Many Latin American countries have moved away from traditional saints’ names for their children but not here.
This guy below is remembered fondly and it appears he was quite fond of his Aquila beer. “Your smile lives on in our memories and your passing left a huge emptiness in our hearts.”
They are still burying people here but the workers who keep the place organized used I overheard saying it’s getting full. One of them has worked here 38 years so I wonder if he’s got his spot sorted out.
This yellow sandstone cemetery is a noted tourist attraction along with a rather undistinguished chapel alongside which was built in 1541.
I had walked Rusty into town over the hill so he and I were rather tired and ready to rest. Layne met us at the gates as she did some chores and ride into town in a tuk tuk so while we rested she took the first walk. There were no signs prohibiting dogs but we just didn’t think they would be welcome. And who wants to get yelled at in a cemetery?
There is a pleasant shady park in front of the cemetery so it was a good spot to get our breaths back. There was a time Rusty would hardly have noticed the hour long walk over the hill in the heat but the years have passed. He did fine but he was ready to rest.
We did rest our feet by piling into a tuk tuk and spending a buck and a quarter riding across town to El Puntal, a rather pleasant spot with tables on decks hanging out over the street.
We ordered an eleven dollar mixed grill to share, with fried pork, sausages, ground meat, plantains, avocado, salad and thick corn tortillas in the arepa style particular to Colombia. Layne didn’t want the fried egg but we shared the rice underneath it.
Rusty got to lay down on the cold tile floor utterly uninterested in us or the food. The waiter good maturely stepped around him. Colombians are incredibly patient with dogs and there are hardly any street dogs or hungry strays here -unlike Mexico. As you can imagine I like that a lot.
Rusty finds tuk tuks noisy but he submited to the ten minute ride back to Guaimaro campground as there was no walking involved. Layne stayed in town to wait out the daily siesta and do some shopping before coming home in her own tuk tuk.
When I got back I found the young French people had gone. They were a strange bunch uncommunicative to the point of rudeness unless they wanted something. I was glad I saved their document bag they lost in Cartagena but I’d have liked to have done the favor to people who were more open to being nice to their neighbors. In any event they are gone and the German couple who arrived in a big expedition vehicle seem quite pleasant.
An air conditioned nap was in order and Rusty and I stretched out together.
