Six Degrees of Separation: How South America connects to A Chorus Line

Tulau – Cali – Piendamo, Colombia

If you haven’t noticed, Colombia is a big country. 

When you look at abstract maps it doesn’t quite sink in. But when you bike 1,000+ miles across a country, after a while you realize that it’s not exactly Delaware . . . 

It was different in Central America. Yes, Mexico is a pretty big country – especially lengthwise – the way that we tackled it. But the rest of Central America was basically a week for each country. (I know, I know – Mexico is not officially Central America. But unofficially there is no doubt . . .)

The good thing is that with a week per country you always have the next country to look forward to. If you don’t like the food in Costa Rica – no problem . . . You’ll be in Panama soon enough . . .

Not so with these South American countries. I think when us Americans look at the map of South America we see it as a jumbled version of the United States. Chile? Oh, that’s like California. Brazil – Texas. Peru – maybe like Montana. 

But now that we’re here the much different reality has become apparent . . . 

• California is about 1,000 miles long from north to south. Chile is about 2,600 miles – or more than two-and-a-half times as long. 
• Texas is about 695,000 square kilometers. Brazil is 8.5 MILLION square kilometers – or about twelve times the size of Texas. In fact, Brazil by itself is bigger than the whole continental United States. 
• Montana is about 255 miles north to south. Peru – 1,500. 

So you can see that South America is not fooling around. And it’s not just the distances themselves. For many of these countries you throw in the Andes Mountains. At about 6,500 miles, the Andes is the longest mountain range in the world. 

Traveling through the mountains tends to warp mileage a bit. Take Ecuador, for example. Ecuador is only – only? – about 450 miles north to south. But unless we head to the coast so that we can bake in the equatorial heat and humidity, we’ll be traveling through the mountains the whole time. This has two effects. One, it’s much harder mileage because of all the up and down. But, two, the distances are themselves greater because the roads wind around more. For Ecuador that 450 miles turns into something like 600 miles when you wind through the mountains. 

Here’s one more way to think about what we have in front of us . . . We are now at about 3 degrees north latitude. Yes, we’re still in the northern hemisphere. Crazy. But once we reach the equator – should happen in the next week or so because each degree of latitude equates to about 69 miles – we will still have to travel to Ushuaia – which is at about 55 degrees south latitude. 

To put that into perspective, Brownsville Texas is essentially the southernmost town in the continental US (it’s pretty much tied with Key West, Florida – but it’s easier to visualize all this with Texas than Key West – because Key West is so far off to the east). Brownsville is at about 26 degrees north latitude. If we were to bike north from Brownsville as far as it would take to get from the equator to 55 degrees south latitude (Ushuaia) we would have to bike across all of the US, through Minnesota and the Boundary Waters, through all of Canada, and then bike a good long ways out into the Arctic Ocean. Maybe we could hitch a ride with a polar bear?

Even forgetting all that – 55 degrees north latitude – the equivalent latitude of Ushuaia – is someplace way up in Canada – well north of Kenora. (For those who don’t know, Kenora is a little village that is the jumping off point for fishing trips in the far north of Canada). Kenora – which is at about 50 degrees north latitude – is itself basically the North Pole as far as I’m concerned. 

In other words, what we still have in front of us is a little daunting . . . 

But, here’s the good news. From Minnesota, we are now about half way to Ushuaia. Not in terms of latitude. On that measure we’ve only gone from 45 degrees north (our house in Minneapolis is about 300 meters from the 45th parallel) to 3 degrees north. We still have 3 degrees left to the equator, and 55 degrees from there to Ushuaia. But we’ve done much more east-west travel on the way down here than we will from this point forward – which is why from a distance perspective we are about half way now. From here on things should be much more “vertical” – or, more directly north-south. 

Okay, that’s enough stewing about how far we have to go. As I’ve learned in so many areas of life, it’s okay to think big picture, but the most important thing is usually to take that next little step forward. Otherwise you can end up with what I call analysis-paralysis; just kind of stuck thinking about what to do next . . . It’s not a good state to be in.

On that score, when we first left on this journey I remember the moment the last of our friends peeled off and we were all-of-a-sudden on our own – with thousands of uncharted miles in front of us. I found myself a little overwhelmed. How would we ever do this? How would we get through Texas? Would Mexico be dangerous? We don’t even know the language . . .

Solution – keep pedaling. Enjoy the day in front of you. Worry about tomorrow when you get there . . . (Note that Diana was never worried. Nothing phases her – except maybe the lack of good baked goods…😁)

Turns out that solution worked well. We enjoyed Texas. Mexico was anything but dangerous. We’re learning the language, and people are so generous and happy to help. 

So, yes, Ecuador, and particularly Peru, seem daunting now. But my guess is that if we keep going one day at a time we’ll end up loving these places. 

I guess I’m talking myself out of my minor panic attack . . . Thanks for “listening.”

Okay – now that I have that out of my system . . . Cali. 

Cali is known for its salsa dancing and Diana found a place that was perfect for us. Tuesday nights they have a big group learning session from 7 – 9 p.m., before the real dancing starts. 

Now, I am a terrible dancer. I mean, terrible, horrible. Can’t keep a beat. My kids tease me because I can’t even clap right. You know when you go to a sporting event and they have you clap together in rhythm to cheer on the home team? My kids frequently catch me looking to see when everyone else is clapping because I can’t figure it out on my own. It’s kind of sad really . . .

So a big group salsa lesson seemed like a good idea. I could watch everyone else, and, hopefully, hide in the crowd. But there was one little catch. Not surprisingly I guess, the lesson was in Spanish. And not slow, easy Spanish. No, this was rapid-fire Español – on a topic I’m terrible at. 

The guy giving the lessons was very charismatic. His dancing was amazing. You could tell he could salsa without even thinking about what his body was doing. 

As I struggled along, trying desperately to get my feet – and the rest of me – to negotiate the various moves, I found myself thinking about my relationship with cross country skiing. Why? Because skiing is this one place where I can “dance” without thinking about what I’m doing . . . We don’t usually associate skiing with dancing but that is essentially what is happening. We even used to call one of the ski techniques Russian Dance – I guess because it has the same rhythm of some folk dance or something . . . 

Now, I’m not the fastest skier – but I’ve been doing it for 40 years now so I can do all the things at a subconscious level – like our instructor last night. 

I mention this for a few reasons. 

One, it’s nice to have something in life that you feel like you have really mastered – something you can lean on in tough times: 

“Well, I can’t solve this math problem, but I can ski well . . .”

Or, more relevant: “I can’t salsa dance, but I can ski . . .”

And two, it’s probably good to have the shoe on the other foot once in a while – so that you know how the beginners feel. Believe me, after last night I know exactly how beginners feel . . .

It’s funny how Cali – a decidedly summer city – managed to bring me back to a few different winter activities – skiing and, as it turned out, sledding.

Diana and I walked up this big hill in Cali the night we arrived. Beautiful spot overlooking the urban lights. While we were up there we saw some Colombian young people doing a tropical version of sledding. They were sliding down a roadway type thing while sitting in milk cartons. It might have been even more dangerous than normal snow sledding – which Dr. Liu tells me is one of the most dangerous activities around . . . I guess there are lots of emergency room visits generated by sledding . . .

This Latin American “sledding” scene reminded me of a song I listened to as a little kid. My parents must have had A Chorus Line in their album collection and I would listen to it on their record player. One of the songs that I really loved was about a young Latin American girl who wanted to become an actress. She goes to a fancy arts school in New York, where the teacher – Mr. Karp – tells the class to imagine that they are bobsledding. They are supposed to report on what they feel as they “bobsled.” The Latin American girl – she’s from Peurto Rico – has nothing to report – she feels nothing – which she attributes to the fact that they don’t have bobsleds in San Juan. 

There’s more to it – but the point is that I thought of this song when I was watching these kids “sledding.” Maybe they would have something to report if they were in Mr. Karp’s class – like the fact that they were scared because they were sledding on asphalt . . .

It’s funny the connections that the mind makes . . . or maybe it’s just my mind that manages to jump from salsa and milk crates in Colombia to skiing and sledding in Minnesota to tearjerker songs from Broadway musicals . . .

The biking? A nice pretty flat ride into Cali a few days ago. Contrast that with another 5,000+ foot of vertical today – made more difficult because it wasn’t just a long grind – it was all this up and down all afternoon . . .

We did manage to find some good Colombian food though. 

Salpicón – a tropical fruit drink with mango, banana, maracuja, grapes (uva), papaya, passion fruit, watermelon juice, orange, strawberries and more. With condensed milk to make it even better. Interesting, and delicious. 

Lechona – this rice and pork dish that comes from the cooking of a whole pig. More fried arepa type things. 

And we re-charged in Cali with our own blueberry pancakes for breakfast, and shrimp scampi for dinner. So good to have multiple helpings of vegetables! And so fun to buy the ingredients at the local market.

We still have several days to go in Colombia . . . A country this big does not give up so easily . . .

Finally, a big thank you to Readers Craig R, Mark R, and David P for their advice and connections in Ecuador and Peru. Super helpful!