I'M MOVING

After not being able to access the comments (I feel it is rude not to acknowledge them at least), I have decided to move this blog to another location:

HERE IS MY NEW LOCATION

All old posts have been moved already.

BYE FOR NOW

Tejo and the (little) cycle of life.

It seems odd that we travelled across the oceans and continents for thousands of miles to arrive in Bogota, yet we are spending practically all of our time here at home, in the park nearby and the two blocks in between. This is fine, since the park and home are quite comfortable to spend the time in. And so are the two blocks in between.
Sometimes a trip to the shopping centre, dentist or a barber breaks the routine, sometimes something unusual happens at the park (see previous post). And sometimes occasional gunpowder explosion, when you least expected it, scares the hell out of you.

I am talking about 'Tejo'.

Apparently it doesn't get any more Colombian than that. Nobody knows when the game started, wiki says it's pre–hispanic, but probably without the gunpowder part, who knows.
Usually played by 'considerably' older folks it entails throwing a 0.6 kg steel ring into the clay box with the aim of hitting small charges of gunpowder folded in pink triangular pieces of paper. The sound of the explosion? Between caliber .22 and .45 gunshot, if you ever heard those.

The running track at the Parque Ciudad Montes follows the boundaries of the park and you will pass two places where tejo is played. I guess it's all a matter of getting used to it, but still, the little explosion always spikes up your already unusually elevated heart rate.

There must be something fascinating about the gunpowder and a loud bang. Apparently the Chinese alchemists invented it looking for the elixir of immortality (!) in 9th century and Albert Nobel furthered the cause by discovering the dynamite some ten centuries later. If we were to believe the scientists it all started with a big bang and the way things are going it all may finish with one too, as this creation doesn't seem so intelligent after all.

Just before you run next to the first tejo area you will pass a small memorial on the right where few years ago stood a police station. The station was blown up by a powerful explosion set by the 'guerrillas' as a revenge for their action against the 'warriers'. The blast shattered the windows in all the houses around. Amazingly only one police officer got killed as he was sitting in a car under which the bomb was planted. Since then there's an increased police presence in the park and surrounding streets.

About 50m to the left of the memorial you will find a large traditional house, now a museum, that used to be the home of Antonio Narino, Colombian freedom fighter and liberator of many provinces from the colonial Spanish rule in 19th century.

It is a lovely house with a big courtyard, solid brick wall around and clay roof tiles on interesting timber support structure. I guess Prince Charles (yes, the same one) would be happy to see it as the house follows all the principles laid by him in a book "The Vision of Britain'. It is of human scale, contains a courtyard, water feature, incorporates art, is built from local materials and exhibits simple architectural language i.e. you know where the entry door is and the windows without thinking about it too much. Pity it stands empty, not many seem to be interested in history.



What is crowded though, is the big sandpit. Kids just love it and specially on weekends it explodes with life. Here they build their castles in the sand.



The older ones play soccer everywhere... There's not a piece of grass anywhere in the park on Sunday without someone kicking the ball in spite of the signs "No jugar futbol". You also get hit by one 9 out of 10 times you are in the park. Ok, maybe not so much, but it seems like a lot.


I guess at some point the kids stop playing games and do something real, like build a house (hopefully a nice one...). Then they run, looking for their elixir of immortality, before retiring to play tejo.

Bomberos de Bogota D.C.

I'm running in the park this morning, as usual.
At one point I hear the sound of few ambulances getting closer. This reminded me of Chicago where you couldn't be outside for more than 5 min without hearing the firetruck or an ambulance going somewhere. Probably like most people I'm kind of sensitive to this sound which indicates a tragedy of some sort unfolding somewhere.
Few minutes later two firetrucks, one ambulance and few police cars stop right in front of the park. Great. Nobody seems to be in a hurry, the sirens are on, police get out of their cars, so do the firemen. After a while two men with uniforms that say 'Bomberos" on the back got a big and heavy object from one of the trucks and start carrying it into the park. The object is covered with a large bag, so naturally I can't see what it is. All the people in the park stopped to observe the scene...


The uniformed men (with big "Bomberos" letters on the back) and their police escort slowly make their way to the kid's playground. What the hell is going on and why they allow us to just watch it..? Are they planning to blow up the whole park??? With all the people in it?????
They stoped at the kids' playground, put the big object on the ground and took the cover off it.
It was a big red fire hydrant...
As we all watch what's next, one of the officers takes out a big electronic device with an antenna from his pocket and turns it on... The hydrant starts moving... it has small wheels underneath and to the amusement of the kids -

it is a REMOTE CONTROL TOY!

After 15 min or so the whole entourage carries the TOY back to the truck, all police escort get back into their cars and with the sirens on they are off. I remain in the park for a while with a kind of dumb look on my face. Then I start running again, as usual.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

P.S. "Bomberos" means "Fire Department" in Spanish.

Is it safe? Bogota 08-12-2011.

Do you remember Dustin Hoffman in 'Marathon Man' movie?

Probably not, it's an old movie. Every time I go to the dentist (and I have an appointment on Monday) the images from that movie flash back. I can't help it. This morning, just like Dustin Hoffman, I again dragged my sleepy butt downstairs, made some instant coffee and dressed for a run in the park (Parque Ciudad Montes). You could ask "why instant coffee, aren't you in Colombia"? They indeed produce some of the best beans in the world, most of them organic, if you care, but roasting them and brewing coffee is another matter. What they drink commonly here is 'tinto', which is a beverage you end up with if you boil water with panela (rock sugar), cinamon stick and some ground coffee. You always drink it black. Having limited time in the morning, I prefer instant coffee.

So is it safe...? Not the coffee of course, but the city in general...?

When I first landed in this city, 5 min into the taxi ride from the airport home with my mind busy fighting the unfamiliar surroundings and the all pervading smell of diesel fuel, we were suddenly stopped by a uniformed group of men and asked to get out of the car, put our hands on the roof while two of them searched our bags and the remaining ones, with their fingers on M-16 machine gun triggers, made sure we didn'd do anything stupid. They happened to be good guys, the police, making it difficult to transport guns or drugs in that part of the city. Mabe our car looked suspicious? Who knows.

To date I've been to Bogota quite a few times. It is not a safe city. There are areas you don't even want to drive the car through. Most people are poor, in some areas you have a strong chance of beeing mugged, you could get hit by a car while crossing the street, they wouldn't stop for you, even at the crossing. You could hypothetically get kidnapped if you appeared on the radar of some organised gangs, but the chance of this for an average person is very slim. Or you could just trip and twist your ankle on rough pavement here - much stronger possibility. But on the positive side, all people I had a chance to deal with, were very friendly, polite and helpful.

Anyway, off I go for a run.

The park is just around the corner and it's much easier to run around its perimetre since you are in a fenced environment, relatively clean and 'safe'. Interesting thing: you always see many uniformed people working in the park to keep it clean and well maintained. They would be cutting grass, picking rubbish, working on the little pond and fountain, few security officers would be just patrolling, others would clean toilets etc. I have been to many parks, much larger than this one in other countries and have never seen so many people employed to maintain them. Anyway, here you are among quite a few similarly minded people trotting along, huffing and puffing since the air is noticably thinner at 8000 feet above sea level. Most run at similar pace than mine, however, this morning one guy was consistently doing 4 min/km loops and managed at least 5k at that pace - what a shape! 10k is what I did this morning, will do more next time, or definately on the weekend. Quick stretch and I headed back home. Shower, breakfast, another instant coffee and we're getting ready for a trip to the shopping centre to buy few things, mostly food (and some beer and wine as well...).

The taxi arrived...

It was a car one or two sizes smaller than Hyundai Getz (or I-20 as you may know it), which means a really small hatchback. We would pack 3 adults and a kid on the back seat, myself in front with a stroller on my lap and a driver of course. On the way back it would be the same plus many bags of goceries filling the space behind the back seat and the hatch. We were lucky, this taxi wasn't running on liquid gas which would mean a big gas bottle where the shopping bags were packed. But it had a big set of speakes there with a sub instead...

Latin music playing, we're driving to the store.

I got used to the traffic here now, but initially I would brace myself in the seat as the car would go through stop signs without stopping, change lanes forcing others to move, not even slow down for pedestrians on crossings and skilfully avoid all the potholes on these streets, some of them filled with garbage (I wonder who would actually do this good samaritan act...?).

The store...

The taxi stops and you are greeted by a kind of homeless guy who behaves as if he owned the place and will direct you to the door, tell the taxi driver to go, intimidate others to allow him to carry their bags etc. All for a small fee of course. Get used to it, this kind of 'service' is common here. Once inside the store things are practically the same as in other similar stores around the world. And so are the prices. How these folks manage to afford all those things, god only knows... Car tires, groceries, flat screen TVs, motorcycles - you name it, they have it all there. And people are buying. So did we. My mother in-law had to make sure we wouldn't go hungry or thirsty and so the trolley was filled with variety of things. God bless her. She is a saint indeed.

The rest of the day was spent watching TV, or rather female TV announcers with the longest legs and shortest mini skirts I have seen, trying to sit modestly on bar stools in front of the camera. We also went to the park again, this time with The Little One and later looked for a cat on the roof. When it got dark we went for a walk around the neighbourhood to see the Christmas lights and candles lit traditionally in front of most houses. There were some fireworks, accordion music playing and lots of people on the street. It was the first day of Christmas. It felt safe, but it looked kind of scary.

Something different for a change

Saturday morning, 5:00 am, time to go for a usual run or ride.

Since I'm planning on a long ride tomorrow, the run looks like a winner, but actually I'm a bit bored with the weekend routine and chose to go for a paddle on my kayak in the mouth of the Tallebudgeera Creek instead. This had some potential fun built in, as you can battle the surf at the very entrance to the ocean. So off we went.

As I'm paddling towards the ocean I realise that the car keys I have with me will no doubt get wet and since they have an electronic chip in them these days, it would be better to leave them ashore. On the other side of the river I saw a blue plastic bag and decided to bury the keys (in a zip locked bag) next to it. The beach was totally empty, not a soul.

I'm back on the boat heading towards the ocean.

After battling the surf for a while the current was dragging the boat out too much and paddling in the river seemed like a better idea. As I paddled back to get the keys I saw a young couple laying a blanket down exactly where I thought I burried the keys! Naturally, as awkward as it was, I still needed the car keys so 5 min later we are all looking for the blue bag! It took half an hour at least of walking back and forth with no result and just when I was at the point of crying or praying, the girl announced she found a blue bag! She put her hand in it to get the keys only to discover that the bag had some old dog crap in it and nothing else... Obviousle she missed that part about the keys being burried NEXT to the bag, not IN it. Anyway, at that point I'm not looking so good in their eyes... On top of that she didn't realise that by moving the bag, the location of the keys was now really lost. Shit!

Now 3 of us are digging through the sand on our knees. I can't believe it. Another half an hour passes and finally a victory - the girl found the keys! Yipee. I bowed down, thanked them both and sat in the kayak again to quickly get the heck out of there and at least do some paddling up and down the creek. Having those keys in the bag felt really good now.

At the turning point up the creek I got a bit philosophical as I realised how different things look as you turn around. The wind feels different, the sun feels different, all the details look different. And you certainly may miss the blue bag that was so visible before.

____________

(Polish short version)

Sobota, 5:00 rano, czas sie przebiec albo przejechac na rowerze. Jutro dluga jazda rowerowa sie zapowiada i dlatego wole sie przebiec, ale tak szczerze mowioac to ostatnio te biegi robia sie monotonne i dla odmiany wole sie przeplynac na kajaku.

No to plyniemy. Tak sobie wiosluje w strone oceanu i pomyslalem ze te klucze do samochodu ktore mam w kieszeni na pewno beda mokre w tej slonej wodzie i trzeba by je schowac na plazy zanim mnie fale uderza. Zobaczylem jakas niebieska plastikowa torbe i zakopalem klucze obok nej.

Po paru minutach wojowania z falami zdecydowalem wrocic do rzeki bo prad mnie za bardzo znosil i zaczalem wypatrywac tej torby... Zauwazylem tez, ze jakas mloda para polozyla kocyk dokladnie gdzie te klucze powinny byc. Oczywiscie sytuacja zrobila sie bardzo niezreczna, ale klucze trzeba znalesc... Po 5 minutach ja z mloda para szukam tych cholernych kluczy. Minelo jakies pol godziny i dziewczyna znalazla torbe! Swietnie! Niestety po wlozeniu reki do niej (bo myslala ze tam sa klucze) okazalo sie ze w torbie bylo jakies stare psie gowno. W tym momencie, co bylo do przewidzenia, stracilem w ich oczach sporo punktow. Na dodatek jak wziela ta torbe to teraz tych kluczy naprawde nie znajdziemy, bo byly obok torby!!!

Przez nastepne pol godziny wszyscy jestesmy znowu na kolanach i kopiemy ten piach... Wreszcie dziewczyna znalazla klucze! Bogu dzieki, bo juz bylem bliski placzu albo modlitwy.

Wsiadlem na ten kajak i poplynalem w gore rzeki, gdzie po zawroceniu spostrzeglem ze wszystko wyglada inaczj jak zawrocimy. Brzeg, fale, wiatr, slonce. A na pewno mozna przegapic jakac niebieska torbe...

End of an era?

In 7 days I will be tying my bike to the top of the car and heading down South to Port Macquarie to do the Ironman Australia.

I don't remember exactly how this relationship with triathlon started and how I got the idea of doing this really long and demanding endurance event. Long time ago, and we're talking more than 20 years ago (yes), I got a letter from my brother (internet was not in popular use then), who was living in Chicago, about what he was doing and there was a mention of Chicago Triathlon that he just finished among other things. He was on top of his game in real estate, the market was good and his enthusiasm transpired through the pages.

Was that the beginning? Sibling rivalry?

I remember once visualising myself in the future and concluding that it would be good to be always in such a shape to run a marathon once a year, do a triathlon once in a while and continue with ocean kayaking. At that time my ability to swim, bike and run however was "limited" (it still is, hence inverted coma) even though I could do those things.

Having this vague vision I started going to the pool and running regularly. I was also riding about 30kms on some weekends so I didn't see the need to improve things there (!) Running was tough. My legs were not up to it and 5 kms was pretty much all I could do for a long while. I enjoyed it though. It felt good to consider myself a runner being surrounded by sedentary people who were afraid to get their butt out the door and enjoy any sort of phisical activity and would only be reminiscing on their young days when they could do such things.

In those days I had no idea that one day I would move to Chicago, do few Chicago Triathlons, Chicago Marathon and many other shorter races. My focus was on running the Gold Coast Marathon one day while for few years being just happy participacing in 10 km race that was a part of the Gold Coast Marathon event. I would have been happy if someone somehow then could have fast forwarded the time to reveal what was in store for me.

Many other things happened in the meantime as well, which would be another story, but now, after covering 6000 kms on the bike last year, over 1600 kms running (swimming volume is not worth mentioning, but I swam 4km distance few times...) and having few days only to jumping in the water and doing Ironman Australia - it's time to evaluate. Regardless of the outcome of that event, will I continue with triathlons? And why?

My next door neighbour Andria is an Olympian, fanatic kayaker who beat Australian team in famous Molokaii race this year. Two doors down, an ex pro cyclist and triathlete Brent, around the corner - Courtney Attkinson, elite Australian triathlete. My thoughts are: why not leave the races to those who are actually good at it... For me entering an event like Ironman could be compared to Evel Knievel's jumping over the Grand Canyon on the motocycle. A ridiculous dare. And once you do it, there's no point doing it again. Sure there's the benefit of motivation for the rest of the year, but the price is also high. Sleeping in when I feel like it, family time, work and fun things you want to do on weekends are some of the things you do without when you're obsessed with long distance triathons.

I could be quite happy going back to my old vision, running a marathon once a year, biking for fun in the mountains and kayaking. But in a way I feel a little sad. It has been good few years.

To Infinity And Beyond (what I sometimes think about when I ride my bike)

'To infinity and beyond' sounds fynny, absurd, idiotic even. It has been repeated so many times in the 'Toy Story' movie (I keep watching ad nauseum with my Little One) because of it's irrationality.

During this morning's ride to Uki, 15k South of Murwillumbah, I was reflecting how this kind of 120k distance with its mountain crossing and 2100 feet elevation gain seemed like infinity many years ago and I didn't consider even driving the car that way, being so steep. Now, many years later I'm riding my bicycle there and beyond - to Uki.

I got excited about this ride. It gave me the excuse to visit Sri Govinda Dham, a place established to be the Australian branch of the Sri Caitanya Saraswat Math, a Mission in Navadvip, West Bengal, India, dedicated to propagating the teachings of Sri Caitnya Mahaprabhu. These teachings have been passed down to us through a disciplic succession of acharyas for the last 500 years. Small chunk of time considering the timeframe of this planet, where the present age of Kali started 5000 years ago and it is the shortest of all ages (btw, 4 of them constitute a cycle, 1000 cycles is 1 day of the life of this planet, which lives for its 100 years...). According to the Vedas that is.

Someone once said that if we ware to evaluate a man, it should be only on the basis of his ideals, they will eventually direct him to the right place after all the temporary engagements are exhausted. Of course I'm not about to elaborate on the teachings of Sri Caitanya (easy to Google it), but only will mention that he defeated all the impersonal conceptions of the absolute (so much sought after by the Buddhist, Shaivaits and others) in such a way that all the leading scholars surrendered to him.

Sad, Cid, Ananda are the attributes of the realm of the absolute, our real permanent home. Sad being the infinity, Cid - perfect knowledge and Ananda - bliss. Great. But these are only the attributes, the description of the realm, as if seen from a very, very long distance. As we are allowed to go further, the Absolute will reveal its true form, endless activities, associates, everything. But only on it's own accord, since we are only a tiny portion of it.

Merging with the absolute, becoming one with it etc. is only a discovery, that we belong to the realm beyond the material world. To remain there, we must develop a relationship with it, not just as an observer, but more active. Then our position is more secure.

Beyond infinity - YES, for sure. And Sri Govinda Dham is a place where you can discuss these concepts.