My treasure hunt

by Alessandra Nicolini (Italy)

I didn't expect to find Colombia

Have you ever been on a treasure hunt? In my case it was more like a name on a blank map: Señor Julian. I just knew I needed a boat from Taganga. Taganga is loud riders with no helmet, is screaming trading voices, is half-naked bodies fully covered in tattoos. A pirate city, that has been growing its popularity for other, less respectable businesses. It is nothing recommendable for a young, solo-traveling woman. I walk down the pier, passing a group of skanky trip dealers. I head to the boss, who replies with a careless look. My mouth slips out the words: “Señor Julian” and his distracted attitude bluntly fades away. He sets me apart from the line and calls his henchmen, busy poaching tourists. After an intense discussion, he points to a tiny, empty speedboat. He asks if I have enough food. I nod my head and reach my captain, a true sea wolf. He looks at me with a sneaky giggle and turns the engine on. After two hours of bumpy boat ride, a perfect symphony of natural sounds starts playing: a hidden inlet embraces the Caribbean Sea leaving almost no space for ripples. “Aquí estás linda”. I jump off and try to keep myself together. As soon as my feet touch the sand, I feel I am alone. The engine starts rolling and “Hasta la vista” is my goodbye to society. I feel as confused as Robinson Crusoe. There is just me there. But I was wrong. The water around starts bubbling. A shark? I knew it would end like this. A stubby man with a barbed harpoon splashes out with the grace of a Triton. He has a tanned wrinkled face and smiles at me through his goggles. Señor Julian shuffles the water off his dark curls: “Sorry, I was looking for lunch” he says. Then, he walks me toward the wooden hut on the beach swinging the huge red fish as a trophy. He points to a worn-out hammock and invites me to make myself comfortable in my luxury accommodation. There I contemplate the sea, enjoying the breeze on my sweaty neck and get rid of my backpack. Which is very light now. After an accurate check, I realized something was missing. In fact, while rushing out of the boat I must have forgotten my food on it. I am definitely not going to make it, I think, and a sense of panic takes over. The week has gone and my Captain is back. It has been days since I showered not in the sea, I fought against tropical rains and the Monsoon lulled my bed. However, that first feeling of despair has been replaced by a wise harmony. Señor Julian saved me from starvation, sharing with me his well-earned, poor ratio of fish. He guided me through the jungle of Tayrona Park to introduce me to a family of baboons. He told me – when I was leaving - about his less funny neighbor, a puma, that killed his dog. I went with Señor Julian to do the grocery in the coral reef, where I grew a silent friendship with two beautiful sea turtles. When I was alone I spoke to my insecurities about the end of my love story and how unfairly I lost my job. I disentangled my pain for the disease of my dad. I cried and my tears melted into the sea, making it even more salty. Señor Julian is also a dad. His daughter is in Medellin, but big city life is not his thing. He waits for her during holidays and when he misses her, he goes to the S.A.I.T.: a spot where he has signal to call. I do not have S.A.I.T, Señor Julian. Where I come from, I do not fish my meal, nor I have monkeys as neighbors. I used to be interrupted by anyone at any time and I lost contact to myself. With you, Señor Julian, I found my treasure. I found a stronger me, brave enough to trust people, to stand alone and face terrifying monsters. A me that can even hunt her lunch.