True conversation with a Trumpeter (a Donald Trump supporter):
"So, you support Donald Trump?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because he's an outsider."
"But, you know he's lying to you, right?"
"Yeah, but so are all the rest."
"So, you'd rather have an outsider lie to you than an insider?"
"Yes."
Wednesday, May 4, 2016
Tuesday, January 19, 2016
Donald Trump is dangerous
Donald Trump is dangerous.
I don't mean that he is dangerous to the Republican Party, though he is. I don't even mean that he is dangerous to the United States, though he is. I mean that he is dangerous to the world.
In the same way that Adolf Hitler was dangerous to the world.
Some of my readers may be thinking, "Oh, there he goes! Playing the 'Nazi card.'"
There are striking similarities between Adolf Hitler and Donald Trump.
Consider this: Adolf Hitler did not begin his political career by suggesting that all Jews should be exterminated. He began his political career by telling Germans what my father, who was alive during Hitler's rise to power, called the "big lie."
At the time of Hitler's rise to power, the Germans were suffering economically. Germany had lost the first world war, and the victors had imposed very strong provisions against them. Those provisions were hurting Germany economically. To make things worse, there was the world-wide "Great Depression." Germans were hurting.
There were a group of people in Germany and Europe in general against whom there was historic prejudice: the Jews. They practiced a "different" religion. They were often identifiable, or, at least, many Germans believed they were identifiable, by their names or their appearance. Worse, many of them had kept themselves separate from the "Christian" population for more than a thousand years.
Part of the evidence of this historic German and European prejudice against Jews was the fact that, over the centuries, the Jews had been expelled from country after country, often to be allowed to return years or generations later, and had suffered periodic pogroms - attacks - by the "Christian" population for centuries.
Finally, there was a politician - Adolf Hitler - who was willing to take advantage of these two things - the economic hardship of Germans and their historic prejudice against this often-identifiable population - for purely political gain.
The way that Hitler took advantage of these two things was to tell the German people that their suffering was not their fault. Rather, it was the fault of an international conspiracy by Jews.
This was the "big lie."
It was not true. Hitler must have known - I am convinced that Hitler knew - it was not true. If the German people had examined the "big lie" very closely, they would have seen that it was not true, could not have been true. But, they didn't examine it closely, because they wanted to believe it was true. They didn't want to have accept that they were to blame for their suffering. And, it was easy to believe the "big lie," because they didn't examine it too closely and because they were only too happy to believe that this group of people against whom they harbored a long-standing, historic prejudice, was to blame.
So, they believed the "big lie."
Hitler rose to power, gradually the "big lie" morphed into extermination of all the Jews - which seemed good to the average German, since the Jews were to blame for the average German's problems - and the world was plunged into war.
When I was younger, I read extensively about the Holocaust; so much so that I began to feel a little guilty, as if I were reading because I gained some vicarious pleasure from the Jews suffering. But, that wasn't it.
Many people, at least back then, were asking, "How could an entire race of people go so passively to their certain death?" I wasn't trying to answer that question. To me, the answer seemed obvious. The question I was trying to answer with all my reading was, "How could one of the most civilized populations on the face of the earth - the Germans - almost unanimously subscribe to the extermination of an entire race?" That was the question I couldn't understand and all my reading about the Holocaust failed to answer it.
The answer came when I read a biography of Adolph Hitler. It struck me that, according to that author, Hitler never said or did anything that could be considered anti-Semitic until he entered politics. Nothing I've read or heard since reading that autobiography has been contrary. Apparently, Hitler's anti-Semitism was nothing more than a political ploy designed to gain power for Hitler. The German people believed Hitler's "big lie" because they were suffering, they didn't want to take the blame for their own suffering, and there was someone who was telling them something that, on the surface, could be true, and they wanted it to be true.
The realization that this was the answer was chilling. This answer meant that it could happen in America. All that would be required was a confluence of the same events in the United States that occurred in Germany in the 1930s: Americans suffering (or believing that they are); Americans not wanting to accept the responsibility for their suffering; a distinct group (or groups) against whom there was long-standing prejudice by other Americans; and a politician willing to lie to Americans about these issues for political gain.
Donald Trump.
Many Americans believe they are suffering. By comparison with most of the rest of the world, they aren't, but many Americans believe they are. Many of those Americans who believe they are suffering don't want to accept responsibility for their own suffering. One may argue that they aren't responsible, but whether that's true or not, they don't want to accept responsibility for their own suffering. There are identifiable groups against whom many of those same American's have long-standing prejudices - Muslims, illegal immigrants, and foreigners (i.e., the Chinese) in general. And there is a politician who is willing to lie to those Americans about those groups for purely political gain.
The "big lie" that Donald Trump is telling is that Americans are not responsible for their suffering, Muslims, illegal immigrants, and foreigners are. He has to know this isn't true. Whether Americans are suffering or not is debatable. But, the idea that Muslims, illegal immigrants, and foreigners in general are somehow responsible for the alleged suffering is, when closely examined, obviously not true.
Yet, many Americans believe the "big lie." Because, without close or careful examination, one can think it might be true, and because many Americans want to believe the "big lie."
Donald Trump is starting exactly where Hitler started. So, yes, I am playing the "Nazi card." Intentionally, consciously, and on purpose.
Consider this: Donald Trump is not starting his political career by telling Americans that all Muslims, illegal immigrants, and foreigners ought to be exterminated. But, he is starting his political career by telling them the same "big lie" that Hitler told the Germans: You are not responsible for your own suffering, someone else is.
Whether he ends up where Hitler ended up remains to be seen. I hope not.
I don't mean that he is dangerous to the Republican Party, though he is. I don't even mean that he is dangerous to the United States, though he is. I mean that he is dangerous to the world.
In the same way that Adolf Hitler was dangerous to the world.
Some of my readers may be thinking, "Oh, there he goes! Playing the 'Nazi card.'"
There are striking similarities between Adolf Hitler and Donald Trump.
Consider this: Adolf Hitler did not begin his political career by suggesting that all Jews should be exterminated. He began his political career by telling Germans what my father, who was alive during Hitler's rise to power, called the "big lie."
At the time of Hitler's rise to power, the Germans were suffering economically. Germany had lost the first world war, and the victors had imposed very strong provisions against them. Those provisions were hurting Germany economically. To make things worse, there was the world-wide "Great Depression." Germans were hurting.
There were a group of people in Germany and Europe in general against whom there was historic prejudice: the Jews. They practiced a "different" religion. They were often identifiable, or, at least, many Germans believed they were identifiable, by their names or their appearance. Worse, many of them had kept themselves separate from the "Christian" population for more than a thousand years.
Part of the evidence of this historic German and European prejudice against Jews was the fact that, over the centuries, the Jews had been expelled from country after country, often to be allowed to return years or generations later, and had suffered periodic pogroms - attacks - by the "Christian" population for centuries.
Finally, there was a politician - Adolf Hitler - who was willing to take advantage of these two things - the economic hardship of Germans and their historic prejudice against this often-identifiable population - for purely political gain.
The way that Hitler took advantage of these two things was to tell the German people that their suffering was not their fault. Rather, it was the fault of an international conspiracy by Jews.
This was the "big lie."
It was not true. Hitler must have known - I am convinced that Hitler knew - it was not true. If the German people had examined the "big lie" very closely, they would have seen that it was not true, could not have been true. But, they didn't examine it closely, because they wanted to believe it was true. They didn't want to have accept that they were to blame for their suffering. And, it was easy to believe the "big lie," because they didn't examine it too closely and because they were only too happy to believe that this group of people against whom they harbored a long-standing, historic prejudice, was to blame.
So, they believed the "big lie."
Hitler rose to power, gradually the "big lie" morphed into extermination of all the Jews - which seemed good to the average German, since the Jews were to blame for the average German's problems - and the world was plunged into war.
When I was younger, I read extensively about the Holocaust; so much so that I began to feel a little guilty, as if I were reading because I gained some vicarious pleasure from the Jews suffering. But, that wasn't it.
Many people, at least back then, were asking, "How could an entire race of people go so passively to their certain death?" I wasn't trying to answer that question. To me, the answer seemed obvious. The question I was trying to answer with all my reading was, "How could one of the most civilized populations on the face of the earth - the Germans - almost unanimously subscribe to the extermination of an entire race?" That was the question I couldn't understand and all my reading about the Holocaust failed to answer it.
The answer came when I read a biography of Adolph Hitler. It struck me that, according to that author, Hitler never said or did anything that could be considered anti-Semitic until he entered politics. Nothing I've read or heard since reading that autobiography has been contrary. Apparently, Hitler's anti-Semitism was nothing more than a political ploy designed to gain power for Hitler. The German people believed Hitler's "big lie" because they were suffering, they didn't want to take the blame for their own suffering, and there was someone who was telling them something that, on the surface, could be true, and they wanted it to be true.
The realization that this was the answer was chilling. This answer meant that it could happen in America. All that would be required was a confluence of the same events in the United States that occurred in Germany in the 1930s: Americans suffering (or believing that they are); Americans not wanting to accept the responsibility for their suffering; a distinct group (or groups) against whom there was long-standing prejudice by other Americans; and a politician willing to lie to Americans about these issues for political gain.
Donald Trump.
Many Americans believe they are suffering. By comparison with most of the rest of the world, they aren't, but many Americans believe they are. Many of those Americans who believe they are suffering don't want to accept responsibility for their own suffering. One may argue that they aren't responsible, but whether that's true or not, they don't want to accept responsibility for their own suffering. There are identifiable groups against whom many of those same American's have long-standing prejudices - Muslims, illegal immigrants, and foreigners (i.e., the Chinese) in general. And there is a politician who is willing to lie to those Americans about those groups for purely political gain.
The "big lie" that Donald Trump is telling is that Americans are not responsible for their suffering, Muslims, illegal immigrants, and foreigners are. He has to know this isn't true. Whether Americans are suffering or not is debatable. But, the idea that Muslims, illegal immigrants, and foreigners in general are somehow responsible for the alleged suffering is, when closely examined, obviously not true.
Yet, many Americans believe the "big lie." Because, without close or careful examination, one can think it might be true, and because many Americans want to believe the "big lie."
Donald Trump is starting exactly where Hitler started. So, yes, I am playing the "Nazi card." Intentionally, consciously, and on purpose.
Consider this: Donald Trump is not starting his political career by telling Americans that all Muslims, illegal immigrants, and foreigners ought to be exterminated. But, he is starting his political career by telling them the same "big lie" that Hitler told the Germans: You are not responsible for your own suffering, someone else is.
Whether he ends up where Hitler ended up remains to be seen. I hope not.
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
What, exactly, did he expect?
I look as if my ancestors were from northern Europe. I am sixty-three years old. I often wear a suit, but I never wear gang-related clothing. I work in a prosecutor's office.
When I am stopped by the police - and sometimes I am - I am afraid of the police officer.
He wears a uniform and I don't. He wears a badge and I don't. He carries a gun and I don't. He is trained in the use of force and I am not. He has the power to arrest me and I don't have the power to arrest him. His story will probably be believed and mine, if it differs from his in any way, probably won't be. He may lie and I won't.
Of course, I am afraid of him. I ought to be. And, so, I treat him with the utmost respect and courtesy, even when I think he's wrong and I'm right.
If I had robbed a store, if I were walking down the middle of the street, if a police officer told me to get out of the street and I refused, if I cursed at the police officer, if I reached into the officer's patrol car, if I struck the officer twice in the face with my fist, if I tried to get control of the officer's gun, I'd expect to get shot. I would be surprised if the police officer didn't try to shoot me.
I look as if my ancestors were from northern Europe. I am sixty-three years old. I often wear a suit, but I never wear gang-related clothing. I work in a prosecutor's office. And I would expect to be shot by the police officer if I did all those things.
I'm not saying that the police always treat people who look as if their ancestors were from sub-Saharan Africa properly. They don't. They should. I'm sure there are cases of police violence against people who look like their ancestors came from sub-Saharan Africa that would justify righteous indignation. But, the shooting of Michael Brown is not one of them.
If I did all the things he did, I'd expect the police officer to try to shoot me, regardless of what I looked like. What, exactly, did he expect?
When I am stopped by the police - and sometimes I am - I am afraid of the police officer.
He wears a uniform and I don't. He wears a badge and I don't. He carries a gun and I don't. He is trained in the use of force and I am not. He has the power to arrest me and I don't have the power to arrest him. His story will probably be believed and mine, if it differs from his in any way, probably won't be. He may lie and I won't.
Of course, I am afraid of him. I ought to be. And, so, I treat him with the utmost respect and courtesy, even when I think he's wrong and I'm right.
If I had robbed a store, if I were walking down the middle of the street, if a police officer told me to get out of the street and I refused, if I cursed at the police officer, if I reached into the officer's patrol car, if I struck the officer twice in the face with my fist, if I tried to get control of the officer's gun, I'd expect to get shot. I would be surprised if the police officer didn't try to shoot me.
I look as if my ancestors were from northern Europe. I am sixty-three years old. I often wear a suit, but I never wear gang-related clothing. I work in a prosecutor's office. And I would expect to be shot by the police officer if I did all those things.
I'm not saying that the police always treat people who look as if their ancestors were from sub-Saharan Africa properly. They don't. They should. I'm sure there are cases of police violence against people who look like their ancestors came from sub-Saharan Africa that would justify righteous indignation. But, the shooting of Michael Brown is not one of them.
If I did all the things he did, I'd expect the police officer to try to shoot me, regardless of what I looked like. What, exactly, did he expect?
Monday, December 30, 2013
Proverbs, Chapter 11, Verse 4
"Riches profit not in the day of wrath, but righteousness delivereth from death."
Monday, December 23, 2013
Proverbs, Chapter 3, verse 28
"Say not unto thy neighbor, Go, and come again, and tomorrow I will give, when thou hast it by thee."
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
"Try and ... "
The Associated Press filed a story today entitled "12 gold miners dead in Guinea after collapse."
In that story the author said:
"A rescue operation was underway to try and find the eight who remained missing after the collapse early Wednesday but authorities said the hope of finding more survivors was slim." [Emphasis added.]
"Try and find?" Really. So, they're going to try to do something, we don't know what, and they're going to find them?
It should be "try to find." I know people say and write "try and ... " all the time, but it isn't correct.
If the Associated Press can't get it right in a written story, where the author has plenty of time to check his or her work and has an editor who should be doing the same, is there any hope for the average person getting it right?
In that story the author said:
"A rescue operation was underway to try and find the eight who remained missing after the collapse early Wednesday but authorities said the hope of finding more survivors was slim." [Emphasis added.]
"Try and find?" Really. So, they're going to try to do something, we don't know what, and they're going to find them?
It should be "try to find." I know people say and write "try and ... " all the time, but it isn't correct.
If the Associated Press can't get it right in a written story, where the author has plenty of time to check his or her work and has an editor who should be doing the same, is there any hope for the average person getting it right?
Friday, August 23, 2013
An Adventure in La Macarena
If you are looking for an adventure, but you're not quite up to climbing to the top of Mount Everest, allow me to recommend Cano Cristales in La Macarena, Colombia.
I never do this. But, I recently visited Cano Cristales in La Macarena, and it was such a fantastic place and such a wonderful visit that I am doing what I've never done before: I'm suggesting a place for your vacation. And no one is paying me a dime for this recommedation.
My fiance is from Colombia, and she took me to visit her country of origen. We stayed in Bogota, which is, in it's own right, an amazing city worth visiting. But, for three days and two nights, we visited La Macarena and toured the national park there.
We arrived by plane from Bogata, about an hour flight. When we got out of the plane, the first thing we saw was a big, twin-engined cargo plane sitting on the grass next to the runway, with a zorra parked under the wing in the shade. A zorra is a horse-drawn cart - and this one was complete with horse. It wasn't there for tourist effect, it was there because it was actually used to carry the cargo to and from the plane.
The airport terminal was open-air - a building with a corrugated tin roof and almost no walls. On the street outside, we met our guide, a professional young man named William. William walked us down the main street of La Macarena for about two blocks, then turned a corner and another block later we were at our hotel. There are fourteen hotels in La Macarena, but William assured us this hotel was the best.
In this area, the streets of La Macarena were wide and paved. In fact, they were boulevards, with grassy medians and tall trees down the middle. However, it didn't seem to matter which side of the median you drove on. People just seemed to select whichever side suited them best at the moment. But, that wasn't a big problem, because in three days in La Macarena, I saw two, maybe three, cars. Lots of motorcycles. Not a few riders on horseback. Lots of pedestrians. Some commercial trucks delivering to the various stores, but almost no cars.
And, the stores do not seem to have doors. Each of them was open-fronted, with a garage door that they could pull down to close the store in the evening. People and goods of all kinds spilled out of the stores onto the sidewalks everywhere, so that most people just walked in the streets.
Our hotel was beautiful and charming - sparkling white tile floors, pristine white walls, lots of dark wood trim everywhere. Our room was small, but clean and just as charming, with the additional touch of a window unit air conditioner and a cable television.
As soon as we had a chance to change, our guide met us in the street and we headed off for Cano Cristales. He led us down the street, across the town square - a grassy square bordered and criss-crossed by sidewalks complete with horses freely ranging around, mowing the grass the way that horses mow grass. Then we reached a gravel street on the far side of the square, which lead quickly down to the wide, muddy river, past the local gymnasium, equipped with every sort of work-out machines you can imagine. You can join the gym in La Macarena!
At the river, we donned life jackets and boarded a somewhat unsteady canoe carved from a single, hollowed out log. When we were all settled, the canoe driver started the motor boat engine and we headed up-river. Along the banks of the river as we sped by was jungle. Real, honest-to-goodness, like-you-see-in-the-movies jungle. We passed turkeys roosting in the trees, and two different types of monkees scampering about in the branches, some holding their tiny babies as they lept from branch to branch. On the trip we saw other birds, a ring-tailed lemur, iguanas, lizards, and an indescribable variety of plants and flowers.
About twenty minutes up the river, the canoe pulled up to the bank and we got off. A short climb up the bank led us to a waiting pick-up truck and driver. We all piled in and set off across the plains (Los Llanos) for another twenty minutes or so. We traveled on a road in name only. In some places it was a road only in the sense that it was connected to other areas without vegetation. But, the views were majestic. Los Llanos are on the eastern side of the Andes, so they form part of the plain that ultimately leads to the Amazon. Much of it has been cleared for cattle over time, but a lot of it is still jungle. The view of the low rolling hills, with the jungle in strips and patches, was magnificent.
We reached a tin-roofed shed and dismounted. From here we would go on foot. A walk down the hill brought us to the most beautiful stream I can imagine. Crystal-clear water flowing over flat rocks, and growing in patches from the rocks - vividly colored algae. Reds and greens and yellows, from which the cano - a creek or a stream - derives it's nickname - the River of Five Colors. I thought, "This is magnificent. Well worth the trip." It turns out it was only the beginning.
Three days of trekking across the plains and through the jungle (we returned to our hotel and a fabulous dinner each night), criss-crossing the canos back and forth and following narrow trails through the jungle and a over steep, volcanic rock escarpments, viewing some of the most incredible scenery imaginable. It turns out that first little stream we crossed, which I thought was so amazingly beautiful, was small compared to the rest of what we saw. Beautiful waterfalls, fantastic colors, deep swimming holes - in which we swam, by the way, but no sunscreen! They are very ecologically sensitive and no perfume, deodorant, or sunscreen is permitted if you swim in the waters of Cano Cristales. This trip is definitely eco-tourism.
And, the second night, the village of La Macarena held a party for all the tourists. After showering and changing at our hotel after a day of hiking, William led us to an outdoor stage, complete with band, and a wonderful dinner prepared and served by the people of the the town. During the middle of the party, it started raining, so everyone, the band included, just moved under a nearby roof and continued. There was wonderful music, and lots of dancing. I danced the "joropo!" (Forgive my spelling if I got that wrong.) I am probably one of the few Americans who has danced the traditional dance of Los Llaneros, in Los Llanos.
When we were about to leave, the owner of the hotel asked me to tell everyone in America that it was safe to come to La Macarena, Colombia. They are very afraid that foreigners will not feel safe visiting in that part of Colombia and they are working very hard to change that perception.
I will tell you, not only did I feel perfectly safe every moment of the trip, I had a great time. And, more than once, I thought, "This is not Disneyworld. This is a real adventure." Okay, it isn't climbing Mount Everest. We had a seven-year-old in our group and I saw an old man with a cane sitting next to one of the canos. But, it is real, it is beautiful, and it is worth every penny and every moment it takes to get there.
I never do this. But, I recently visited Cano Cristales in La Macarena, and it was such a fantastic place and such a wonderful visit that I am doing what I've never done before: I'm suggesting a place for your vacation. And no one is paying me a dime for this recommedation.
My fiance is from Colombia, and she took me to visit her country of origen. We stayed in Bogota, which is, in it's own right, an amazing city worth visiting. But, for three days and two nights, we visited La Macarena and toured the national park there.
We arrived by plane from Bogata, about an hour flight. When we got out of the plane, the first thing we saw was a big, twin-engined cargo plane sitting on the grass next to the runway, with a zorra parked under the wing in the shade. A zorra is a horse-drawn cart - and this one was complete with horse. It wasn't there for tourist effect, it was there because it was actually used to carry the cargo to and from the plane.
The airport terminal was open-air - a building with a corrugated tin roof and almost no walls. On the street outside, we met our guide, a professional young man named William. William walked us down the main street of La Macarena for about two blocks, then turned a corner and another block later we were at our hotel. There are fourteen hotels in La Macarena, but William assured us this hotel was the best.
In this area, the streets of La Macarena were wide and paved. In fact, they were boulevards, with grassy medians and tall trees down the middle. However, it didn't seem to matter which side of the median you drove on. People just seemed to select whichever side suited them best at the moment. But, that wasn't a big problem, because in three days in La Macarena, I saw two, maybe three, cars. Lots of motorcycles. Not a few riders on horseback. Lots of pedestrians. Some commercial trucks delivering to the various stores, but almost no cars.
And, the stores do not seem to have doors. Each of them was open-fronted, with a garage door that they could pull down to close the store in the evening. People and goods of all kinds spilled out of the stores onto the sidewalks everywhere, so that most people just walked in the streets.
Our hotel was beautiful and charming - sparkling white tile floors, pristine white walls, lots of dark wood trim everywhere. Our room was small, but clean and just as charming, with the additional touch of a window unit air conditioner and a cable television.
As soon as we had a chance to change, our guide met us in the street and we headed off for Cano Cristales. He led us down the street, across the town square - a grassy square bordered and criss-crossed by sidewalks complete with horses freely ranging around, mowing the grass the way that horses mow grass. Then we reached a gravel street on the far side of the square, which lead quickly down to the wide, muddy river, past the local gymnasium, equipped with every sort of work-out machines you can imagine. You can join the gym in La Macarena!
At the river, we donned life jackets and boarded a somewhat unsteady canoe carved from a single, hollowed out log. When we were all settled, the canoe driver started the motor boat engine and we headed up-river. Along the banks of the river as we sped by was jungle. Real, honest-to-goodness, like-you-see-in-the-movies jungle. We passed turkeys roosting in the trees, and two different types of monkees scampering about in the branches, some holding their tiny babies as they lept from branch to branch. On the trip we saw other birds, a ring-tailed lemur, iguanas, lizards, and an indescribable variety of plants and flowers.
About twenty minutes up the river, the canoe pulled up to the bank and we got off. A short climb up the bank led us to a waiting pick-up truck and driver. We all piled in and set off across the plains (Los Llanos) for another twenty minutes or so. We traveled on a road in name only. In some places it was a road only in the sense that it was connected to other areas without vegetation. But, the views were majestic. Los Llanos are on the eastern side of the Andes, so they form part of the plain that ultimately leads to the Amazon. Much of it has been cleared for cattle over time, but a lot of it is still jungle. The view of the low rolling hills, with the jungle in strips and patches, was magnificent.
We reached a tin-roofed shed and dismounted. From here we would go on foot. A walk down the hill brought us to the most beautiful stream I can imagine. Crystal-clear water flowing over flat rocks, and growing in patches from the rocks - vividly colored algae. Reds and greens and yellows, from which the cano - a creek or a stream - derives it's nickname - the River of Five Colors. I thought, "This is magnificent. Well worth the trip." It turns out it was only the beginning.
Three days of trekking across the plains and through the jungle (we returned to our hotel and a fabulous dinner each night), criss-crossing the canos back and forth and following narrow trails through the jungle and a over steep, volcanic rock escarpments, viewing some of the most incredible scenery imaginable. It turns out that first little stream we crossed, which I thought was so amazingly beautiful, was small compared to the rest of what we saw. Beautiful waterfalls, fantastic colors, deep swimming holes - in which we swam, by the way, but no sunscreen! They are very ecologically sensitive and no perfume, deodorant, or sunscreen is permitted if you swim in the waters of Cano Cristales. This trip is definitely eco-tourism.
And, the second night, the village of La Macarena held a party for all the tourists. After showering and changing at our hotel after a day of hiking, William led us to an outdoor stage, complete with band, and a wonderful dinner prepared and served by the people of the the town. During the middle of the party, it started raining, so everyone, the band included, just moved under a nearby roof and continued. There was wonderful music, and lots of dancing. I danced the "joropo!" (Forgive my spelling if I got that wrong.) I am probably one of the few Americans who has danced the traditional dance of Los Llaneros, in Los Llanos.
When we were about to leave, the owner of the hotel asked me to tell everyone in America that it was safe to come to La Macarena, Colombia. They are very afraid that foreigners will not feel safe visiting in that part of Colombia and they are working very hard to change that perception.
I will tell you, not only did I feel perfectly safe every moment of the trip, I had a great time. And, more than once, I thought, "This is not Disneyworld. This is a real adventure." Okay, it isn't climbing Mount Everest. We had a seven-year-old in our group and I saw an old man with a cane sitting next to one of the canos. But, it is real, it is beautiful, and it is worth every penny and every moment it takes to get there.
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