It wouldn’t be a stretch of the imagination to suggest that countries where Spanish is spoken are intensely religious. While in Bogotá, I had the opportunity to visit La Catedral de Sal, a cathedral carved into a former salt mine 180 meters underground. It’s one part incredible and one part kitschy, but it’s just one of those things you’re ‘supposed to do’ when you visit.

My father grew up in Bogotá and upon turning 23 moved to New York City to chase a girl who would not be my mother. He’s spent more time living in the US than he has in his native Colombia (although you would not believe this after hearing him attempt to speak English). Because of this, traveling together to the city of his youth seemed especially poignant and every subsequent trip to Colombia is different than the last. Over the years, Bogotá has grown out in every direction in that haphazardly chaotic sprawl that’s typical of Latin America. Luckily, my father had developed a sort of nostalgic x-ray vision where he can gesture to an empty lot and reminisce on the good times had in a long-gone building or point out a tree my grandfather planted in the 70’s. Its difficult for me to picture the Bogotá of his youth, a city that for him conjures up memories of house parties, first kisses, and Catholic tradition. For me, Bogotá still means motorcycles, smog, barbed wire, electrified fences, bulletproof cars, mountainous horizons, and family.

If you know me, like, really know me, you’ll know that I’m a pretty shy person. Unfortunately, being a quiet and introverted photographer does not bode well when you have bills to pay. While in Salento, Colombia, I was wandering around the highest point in town taking the path back down to town when I spotted three soldiers relaxing at the foot of a cross. I thought to myself what a great photo that would make but my debilitating shyness led me back down the path to the bottom of the small mountain. After reaching the base, I realized I had just tricked myself into not doing something I actually wanted to do. So I built up the courage, and the physical endurance, and jogged up the steps. Once up top, the hustle up the mountain had transformed me into a gasping, wobbly-legged mess of a human being. I stumbled toward them, took a deep breath, and asked. They smiled and said, “claro que si.” Well, that was easy.

After getting the shot, I hung out for a bit and showed them some other photos of my travels. They couldn’t have been older than 19. I asked if they wanted me to email them the photo. They laughed and said “no, that’s for you.”

MORAL OF THE STORY: While I’m not so sure the photo was all that successful, the lesson I learned was the most valuable.

So, like that Smiths’ song says:
“Shyness is nice, but shyness can stop you from doing all the things in life you’d like to.“

During our time in Colombia, we ended up in the quintessential extra-sleepy, quasi-colonial town of Salento in the outskirts of the coffee growing region of Colombia. From Salento, you can hire a Jeep Willys to drop you off in the Valle de Cocora where you can hike through a cloud forest that eventually leads you to the most impressive palm trees you’ll ever see. Strictly for my Botany nerds, the trees are called Wax Palms, are the tallest palms in the world, and a symbol of Colombian national pride.

Yesterday was Easter Sunday. We had originally planned to do an Easter egg hunt on a rooftop in South Slope as usual just ended up just making picanha and drinking beer. I can’t complain.

I’m currently working on finding some new projects to work on and maybe working with a non profit here in NYC. Other than that, I’ll be in Colombia next week, Chicago after that, then possibly Spain, and then the Galapagos Islands. Here’s to hoping 2012 shapes up to be a busy year. In the meantime, here are some recent images.

I was in Chicago this weekend for twenty minutes or so.

I still can’t get over what a mild winter it’s been. Here’s looking back to slightly warmer times (like a month ago).