Since I had arrived in this beautiful city, I could see this monastery looming high above the city, and, after hearing of the mountain's inhabitants as a dangerous gang zone, I feared making the trek. But, since the Cartagena school we were supposed to visit this morning cancelled, we had the morning free. So, Cathryn from Irex, John, from the US State Dept, and John, my Cartagena partner, decided to visit this holy place. We asked the Movich hotel, rated one of the top 82 small luxury hotels in the world, to arrange a taxi driver who would transport us there and back and wait while we explored.
Unfortunately, the police blocked all access points up the mountain because of a bicycle race, so John and Cathryn decided to use the opportunity to explore the Castillo San Felipe, the fort that ensured Cartagena's protection during Spain's colonization. Since John and I had already explored this wondrous gem, we decided to pass and spend our time underneath an umbrella at nearby tienda, where we sipped cold water, nature's perfect elixir when the temperature reaches the mid 90's with 90% humidity. I enjoyed spending this hour with my friend, talking about our careers, our families, and our futures.
Finally, the taxi bounded up the mountain, and my eyes viewed the most incredible poverty ever. Shacks dotted the landscape, while malnourished mules carried their wagons up and down the steep incline. I looked at faces, scarred by poverty--and my soul sank. Yet, I could not help rejoicing an the view just outside the nside the walls of the convent, where I could see the splendor of the walled city with its 17th Century Spanish architecture, the modern Boca Grande peninsula with the plenitude of skyscrapers kissing the beach, and I could clearly see the majestic board with a docked cruise ship, waiting for passengers to return.
The convent houses an active church dedicated to Nuestra Senora de la Candelaria, a black Madonna, revered by many Catholics in the area. I spent some time in quiet reflection in front of the Blessed sacrament, and then bought a jar of the sweetest honey in the world formed from hives kept at the top of this mountain.
While reading a placard outside the church, I learned that Pope John Paul II officially dedicated the site to the Virgin of Candelaria during his visit in 1986. The steel image of the Pope imprinted on the plaque showed a man full of joy and hope, beloved by the Colombian people imprinted in the background.
Suddenly, the taxi horn blared at me from below, and I could see my colleagues were waiting on me. I was lost in this world above the world.
Unfortunately, the police blocked all access points up the mountain because of a bicycle race, so John and Cathryn decided to use the opportunity to explore the Castillo San Felipe, the fort that ensured Cartagena's protection during Spain's colonization. Since John and I had already explored this wondrous gem, we decided to pass and spend our time underneath an umbrella at nearby tienda, where we sipped cold water, nature's perfect elixir when the temperature reaches the mid 90's with 90% humidity. I enjoyed spending this hour with my friend, talking about our careers, our families, and our futures.
Finally, the taxi bounded up the mountain, and my eyes viewed the most incredible poverty ever. Shacks dotted the landscape, while malnourished mules carried their wagons up and down the steep incline. I looked at faces, scarred by poverty--and my soul sank. Yet, I could not help rejoicing an the view just outside the nside the walls of the convent, where I could see the splendor of the walled city with its 17th Century Spanish architecture, the modern Boca Grande peninsula with the plenitude of skyscrapers kissing the beach, and I could clearly see the majestic board with a docked cruise ship, waiting for passengers to return.
The convent houses an active church dedicated to Nuestra Senora de la Candelaria, a black Madonna, revered by many Catholics in the area. I spent some time in quiet reflection in front of the Blessed sacrament, and then bought a jar of the sweetest honey in the world formed from hives kept at the top of this mountain.
While reading a placard outside the church, I learned that Pope John Paul II officially dedicated the site to the Virgin of Candelaria during his visit in 1986. The steel image of the Pope imprinted on the plaque showed a man full of joy and hope, beloved by the Colombian people imprinted in the background.
Suddenly, the taxi horn blared at me from below, and I could see my colleagues were waiting on me. I was lost in this world above the world.