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Besides containing the death place of El Libertador, Simon Bolivar, Santa Marta and the department of Magdalena have played host to other, more sinister moments in history. And indeed, the big cargo ships from the Dole Food Company I saw in the Port of Santa Marta carry more than bananas, they also bear the tragic legacy of worker exploitation and an internal conflict often fueled by the narrow interests of foreign corporations.
No where is this intricate connection better exemplified than in the sad tale of the United Fruit Company and what has become known as the Banana Massacre of 1928, which took place not far from Santa Marta. While the complete truth is lost to history, it is known that in 1928 workers on United Fruit Company's banana plantations outside of Santa Marta went on strike seeking better pay and working conditions. Eventually it grew into the largest labor demonstration yet seen in Colombia.
What happened next remains hotly debated. Government troops opened fire on the demonstrators and killed an untold number of them. Estimates range from 50 to more than 2,000 dead.
Some historians maintain that the troops were dispatched at the urging of the U.S. Embassy in Bogotá in order to protect United Fruit Company interests in the area. And indeed, the Wikipedia page on the incident documents a series of chilling telegrams between Washington and diplomats in Colombia during the ordeal.
It remains a bitter memory in the collective conscious of Colombia and was immortalized by the country's own Nobel Laureate, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, in his novel 100 Years of Solitude.
One would hope that 80 years later such an insidious intersection of commercial interest and political violence would be a distant memory. However, the United Fruit Company, now known by the more family friendly Chiquita brand (with that pretty lady with the fruit on her head), has been accused of, and indeed plead guilty to, funding the United Self-Defense Forces of Colombia (AUC), a right-wing paramilitary group listed as a terrorist organization by the U.S. government and guilty of countless atrocities in Colombia.
Now, Chiquita had to cough up $25 million USD last year to the U.S. Department of Justice due to these activities. But for a company that has an estimated annual revenue of about $4 billion USD, that's pretty small bananas.
Any hope that the executives of the company, who were fully aware of the activities, will be extradited to Colombia to face criminal charges is...uh...a long shot to say the least.
Here's a tip. If you want to avoid facing justice for the human rights violations committed by your multi-national corporation, like former Chiquita CEO and person-who-gives-white-guys-a-bad-name Carl Lindner, Jr., it helps to be a top Republican party donor. Dropping $250,000 on George W. Bush's second inaguaration ain't bad either.
Apologies to anyone not able to enjoy a banana ever again. Don't blame the fruit, its not it's fault its delicious.
I wrote below that the road to Santa Marta was not without its challenges, however, eventually we reached our destination. Santa Marta rests between the mountains of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta and the Caribbean Sea. For the last five hundred years, the city has served Colombia both as an important port and as the capital of the department of Magdalena.
Home to just over 400,000 people, Santa Marta is one of Colombia's top destinations for fun-in-the-sun thanks to its warm climate, sunny beaches, and access to the natural magnificence of Tayrona National Park.
For tourists, there are two sides of the city to be experienced. El Rodadero (pictured above) is the modern, hyper-developed tourist center full of gringos, hotels, restaurants, and a stunning beach. However, if you are in the mood for more of a Spanish colonial vibe, the historic district of Santa Marta proper is currently experiencing a surge of redevelopment.
One need look no further than the port of Santa Marta to see why. What once was serving primarily as a point of export for bananas, coal, and other goodies from the interior is now also serving as a point of disembarkation for sun-burned, gringo tourists on large, modern cruise ships. Great for the local economy, which can use all the jobs it can get to tackle its serious poverty issues, but bad for the authentic feel. But hey, small price to pay for some much needed economic development, right?
In my opinion, the five hundred year old coastal city is beaten, hands down, by the ageless natural splendor of the Tayrona National Park (above). One of the most important nature preserves in the country with the second most biodiversity in the world. Tayrona is simply awesome.
There are a number of trails that lead you through dense rain forest out to the sea. If you don't want to walk, you can ride a donkey, which coincidentally is how they get all the beer out to the several low-key seaside restaurants that occupy a few of the beaches - an acceptable intrusion on the pristine scenery.
Once there you can camp out in a tent, cabin, or just a hammock. Not bad.
After two days of checking out the beaches in Tayrona, we headed to a small fishing village just outside the city, Taganga (right). While tourism appears to be the largest business nowadays, there are still plenty of fishing boats and nets dotting the beach - proof that there's still something worth catching out there (likely to feed hungry tourists.)
From the village you can hop on a boat for a ten minute ride to one of several nearby, secluded beaches. A great place to pass the day snorkeling, swimming, sunbathing, eating fresh fish, and drinking cerveza. Since we were there just after Christmas, one of the high seasons for tourism, it was a bit crowded, but still beats the Jersey Shore boardwalks.
In addition to its coastal attributes, Santa Marta is also famous as the death-place of Simon Bolivar, the much-revered Latin American liberator. La Quinta de San Pedro, the estate where he past in the 1830s, has been well maintained and is a great destination for history buffs.
In Cali, on the Colombia Pacific coast, another positive reaction to Obama's ascendency to the Casa Blanca.
So at the end of my post on natural gas vehicles I asked the question, 'if there is a cheaper, cleaner source of fuel here - why all the dirty buses?' Needless to say, I've been bugging many of my Colombian friends about it as well. Well, word got round to a chemical engineer and I got some more information to share.
One specific question I had involved why Transmilenio wasn't developed with natural gas powered buses as the foundation. Her reply was that natural gas does not work as well for large vehicles for the same reasons that they use diesel instead of gasoline (that is higher energy per unit of volume, more torque, greater efficiency.)
So natural gas powered buses are not a feasible alternative and neither are expensive and short-lived exhaust filters, then what?
Apparently the easiest and most effective reform would involve eliminating low-grade diesel from Colombia's fuel inventory. Diesel fuel in Colombia contains 10 to 100 times more sulfur than the diesel used in the U.S. and Europe, known as 'Ultra-Low Sulfur Diesel (ULSD).' Sulfur acts as the nucleus for particulate matter, attracting other pollutants to form big gross balls of nastiness.
Wow! That seems like a straight-forward and achievable policy goal. Undoubtedly, ULSD is likely much more expensive than the dirty stuff. However, if you frame the analysis in terms of cost-savings via chronic disease prevention I would guess that it's a pretty good deal and worthy of government subsidy. Especially here, high in the Andes, particulate matter can cause all kinds of public health problems.
I'm not sure if an analysis has been done on this or not. But I'm going to find out!
Yesterday, I was on my way to sign-up for Spanish classes at the National University here. I was stopped by security on my way through the gate because they wanted to check the serial number on my laptop and give me a pass. When they asked for my name, drawing on my experience, I decided to show my ID instead of trying to pronounce my name.
"Soy un gringo," I said with pride.
"Obama!" one of the guards responded.
"Lo maximo! Estoy muy feliz," I replied (The best! I'm very happy!).
"Yo tambien," agreed another guard.
The United States' new top-diplomat discusses U.S.-Colombian relations during her confirmation hearing with the Senate Foreign Relations Committee.
Semana with the coverage.
Why do some cabs have gas cylinders in the trunk?
Initially, I was disappointed to learn that they aren't due to some underground, Fast and Furious, nitrous-boosted taxi cab racing scene - where the stakes are high and the fares are even higher. The reality is much more pedestrian, but interesting nonetheless.
According to the numbers I've seen around the web, Colombia has between 200,000 and 250,000 vehicles that run on compressed natural gas (CNG). These vehicles are served by just over 300 CNG filling stations around the country.
Natural gas has several advantages over gasoline as a motor vehicle fuel. While still emitting the chief global warming culprit carbon dioxide, natural gas burns much cleaner than gasoline or diesel. This characteristic is particularly attractive in higher altitude cities like Bogotá where, as I've mentioned, particulate matter can be a real public health problem.
In addition to the environmental benefits, natural gas is also less expensive per unit of energy than gasoline. In Colombia, this is largely due to the four trillion cubic meters of natural gas reserves the country contains - a decent domestic supply. All of these benefits can be attained by a relatively low-cost conversion of a regular gas engine. Pretty cool.
A lot of other countries also have well developed systems to take advantage of their natural gas reserves. In South America, Argentina and Brazil have a few million CNG powered vehicles in their respective fleets - as do countries in other parts of the world, like Italy.
What I would like to know is this: if there is a cheaper, cleaner alternative to gasoline and diesel fuel, why all the dirty buses?