Finding Don Quixote in the Andes

by Shefali Anand (India)

I didn't expect to find Colombia

On my backpacking trip across Colombia, I hadn’t expected to find a modern-day Don Quixote. But there he was, fighting for his ideal vision of the world, in the tiny, obscure village of Zapatoca. Chance got me there. My friend Sophie and I had been touring in the north-eastern province of Santander, known for adventure sports and ‘hormigas culonas’ - literally ‘big-bottomed ants’ - a fried delicacy of the region. When we heard about a village in the Andes that offered spectacular views of the Chicamocha canyon, one of the world’s largest, we were intrigued. After a long and bumpy ride along winding country roads, we reached Zapatoca late in the evening. Early next morning, Sophie and I hiked up to the viewpoint - Mirador Los Guanes. On a clear day, they say one can see the place where the Suarez and Chicamocha rivers join to form the Sogamoso river. But when we got up there, the clouds were low and we could only vaguely make out the confluence of the rivers. With nothing else to do, we decided to explore the village instead. Descending into Zapatoca, I felt transported to the 18th century, when the village was founded by Spanish conquistadors. The charming central square, the main church and town hall, looked as they might have 300 years ago. Classic Spanish houses, with white walls and clay-tiled roofs, radiated in neat rows from all sides of the square. In one such house converted into a restaurant, we sat down for a lunch of roasted chicken and rice. That’s where we saw a poster of the ‘House of Quixote’ museum. We asked our waiter about it. “It’s a tribute to Don Quixote,” he said, referring to the Spanish knight-errant who fought imaginary battles to right the wrongs of the world. The waiter offered to take us to the the museum. After our meal, Sophie and I followed him down the road until he stopped at a house and rang the bell. We were perplexed when the woman who opened the door, bowed to him. He then introduced himself — Rodrigo Espíndola, owner of the museum and the restaurant where we had eaten. He offered to guide us through the House of Quixote. “Quixote is a universally recognized personality who always fought for justice,” Espíndola explained his fascination for the character penned by Spanish author Miguel de Cervantes in the 1600s. In the museum's first room, we saw a miniature sculpture of Quixote with his squire Sancho Panza, both on their horses, wielding their lances, to fend off enemes that surrounded them from all sides. The enemy in this case: flags of major multinational countries like Coca Cola, McDonalds, and Disney. “Quijote and Sancho represent humankind — all of us — who are confronting large companies that constantly want us to buy goods and services that we often don’t need,” said Espíndola. “This sculpture invites viewers to think about excessive consumption of today,” he said. Hearing Espíndola came as a relief, for he had put into words something I had been mulling over lately. As a backpacker, I had spent the last four months happily with just a handful of clothes and a few possessions. Occasionally, I had found myself questioning if that large wardrobe of clothes and shoes back home were really needed to make me happy? In another miniature, Quijote and Sancho looked on at a guillotine where the executioner prepared to behead a man. In place of the blade, there was a credit card. “This is an invitation for people to rationalize their spending, and not fall into debt traps by pending money they dont have,” said Espíndola. In more than a dozen such miniatures, Espíndola, 60 years old, has brought Quixote to confront what he believes are problems of the 21st century. A walk through the museum was like walking through my own life, forcing me to analyze my relationship not only with consumption, but with the environment and the planet. As the tour ended, it dawned on me: from his little corner of the world, Espíndola was fighting to save his ideal vision of the world, trying to save us from ourselves. A real-life Don Quixote? --