In the Shadow of the Sierra Nevada: A Stranger’s Tale of El Cocuy
Happy Tuesday, my dear friend. For those who celebrate it, these days are all about preparing for Christmas—buying the last gifts, organizing a dinner or lunch, and probably finding just a little time for anything else.
Tamara and I want to take this opportunity to wish you all the best during this festive season. May you enjoy it with your family and loved ones.
Today’s chapter of Tamara’s adventures tells the story of a hard place, shaped by past divisions and conflicts.
So, grab a coffee and enjoy.
It’s 4:45 in the morning when the bus arrives in El Cocuy, and I’m completely wrecked after a sleepless night on bumpy roads and a driver’s reckless driving.
The village is deserted. The cold and motion sickness make me curl up on a bench in the square, waiting for 8:00 a.m., when we’re supposed to meet the man who will give us the keys to the house. Right on time, we meet him, take the keys, and enter the house, only to find that the dishes are dirty. We need some soap, but I can’t find a shop to buy it. So I venture into the kitchen of a guesthouse. At my request for dish soap, they look at me as if I’d asked for a unicorn. “We don’t use soap for the dishes,” they say with utmost seriousness. Oh, of course—water must be more than enough, I suppose. “The cleaning lady might have some hand soap,” they add. Perfect, I think. Soap is still soap.
Among the village's low houses, we look for a shop to buy food. The white and green facades align gracefully, reflecting the values deeply rooted in this mountainous land. The white symbolizes purity, peace, and serenity, almost as if exorcising the memories of a past marked by conflict and isolation. The green, on the other hand, evokes the lush nature of the Sierra Nevada del Cocuy mountains, symbolizing hope, renewal, and the deep connection with the land from which the locals draw their sustenance.
We enter the small bar in the square. Four men, wrapped in their wool ponchos, stop talking and observe us with a faint smile. I greet the woman behind the counter: “Buen día!” Silence. Her face is weathered by time; two dark eyes scrutinize me, waiting for me to say more. I order two coffees: “Dos tintos.” She hands me the cups without making eye contact. “Gracias,” I add, but there’s no reply. I can’t tell if it’s because of my uncertain Spanish or her mistrust of strangers. Here, the echoes of guerrilla warfare haven’t entirely faded.
El Cocuy, protected by its impenetrable geography, served as a refuge for guerrilla fighters hidden in the mountains that shielded them from the army. It was a dark time, the 80s and 90s, when the FARC and the ELN used these lands as a base for their war. Communities lived under siege, in a silence heavy with fear and tension. The conflict was both distant and close, like a shadow always lingering.
Then, slowly, peace began to take root. The 2016 agreements allowed life to flow again, but not without leaving deep scars. Today, the wild beauty of the Sierra Nevada attracts travelers, but the past lingers, suspended in the rarefied mountain air, in glances and silences that speak of a pain not forgotten.
The air is crisp. The atmosphere is steeped in a mystical stillness, broken only by the wind’s breath and the murmur of its inhabitants.
Rough skin and dusty clothes, and beneath the shadow of their hats, the curious eyes of people unaccustomed to seeing visitors from our part of the world.
Questions I often can’t answer because their dialect is hard to understand for someone like me, whose Spanish isn’t fluent.
But they smile at you, these professionals of “living in the moment,” because the sun is shining, and the livestock has been fed.
A woman proudly shows us her well-fed turkey, which she cares for like a child—the same turkey that will soon end up in the large black pot boiling over the fire.
It’s not cruelty; the campesinos live off what they take care of.
Here in the Andes, nothing is always available. Nature provides but demands dedication: the flowers that delight the eyes today will become the fruits that delight the palate tomorrow. Everything in its own time!
Take care and talk soon!
Beautifully written and enjoyed the images. Hope you are having a lovely holiday!
Love reading about travel adventures. Happy Christmas to you and the family Matteo