La Coqueta Goes Boom: My Clumsy Colombian Tejo Adventure

As a software engineer, my life revolves around logic, precision, and predictable outcomes. Lines of code either compile or they don't. Bugs are squashed with methodical debugging. But recently, I felt a yearning for something... messier. I needed a sensory explosion, a chaotic adventure that would force me to improvise and break free from the rigid constraints of my digital world. That's how I ended up in Colombia, chasing "authentic" experiences and quickly discovering that "authentic" often translates to "utterly disastrous, yet hilariously unforgettable." My quest led me to a small town outside Medellin, where I attempted to play tejo.

The last thing I remember was pulling back my arm to deliver the tejo. The tejo court was a whirlwind of dust and sunshine, packed with boisterous locals who seemed to have been born with a tejo in their hands. The air crackled with the smell of gunpowder and cheap beer. The sounds were deafening: the satisfying thwack of metal meeting metal, punctuated by the echoing BOOM when someone struck gold – or rather, gunpowder. I, Anya, armed with an unwarranted level of confidence and clad in entirely inappropriate white linen pants, was determined to shed my analytical skin and embrace the glorious chaos. I even started referring to my fellow tejo players as "colleagues," much to their amusement. My overly enthusiastic attempts at high-fives earned me a new nickname: "La Coqueta" – the flirt.

I opted for the "high toss" technique, convinced that my coding-honed precision would translate to tejo mastery. Wrong. So very, very wrong.

My tejo sailed through the air, looking promising at first, a glint of sunlight reflecting off the metal disk. But then, it veered, ever so slightly, off course. Instead of a triumphant BOOM, it landed with a pathetic thud just outside the target ring. Mortified, but undeterred, I attempted to retrieve my errant tejo. That's when disaster struck again.

My foot caught on something – maybe a stray rock, maybe my own hubris – and I went down. Hard. And where did I land? Not on the dusty ground, oh no. I landed in a pit filled with drying coffee beans, sending them flying in every direction.

Covered head to toe in coffee grounds, I sputtered, choked, and finally, started to laugh. It was the kind of laugh that bubbles up from deep inside, a release of pent-up tension and a reluctant acceptance of my own spectacular clumsiness. As I attempted to brush myself off, only managing to grind the coffee beans further into my clothes, I couldn't help but grin.

"So, this is authentic, huh?" I said, my voice muffled by coffee grounds. "Less debugging, more…bean-ing?"

A Culinary Dive: Bandeja Paisa Montañera

My tejo humiliation could have easily sent me running back to the comfort of my laptop. But the locals, bless their hearts, wouldn't let me. They insisted on treating me to bandeja paisa, a culinary experience as intense and overwhelming as my tejo debacle.

The bandeja paisa is not just a meal; it's a monument to Colombian cuisine. A mountain of food piled high on a single plate, it's a sensory overload in the best possible way. I was presented with the Bandeja Paisa Montañera, a variation that uses ground beef instead of steak, and includes morcilla (blood sausage).

My initial reaction was one of slight apprehension. Could I really tackle this behemoth of beans, rice, chorizo, chicharrón (pork cracklings), a fried egg, avocado, and arepa? The sheer quantity was intimidating. However, I decided to approach it with the same spirit of reckless abandon I had (attempted) to bring to tejo.

The explosion of flavors was incredible. The richness of the chicharrón, the saltiness of the chorizo, the creamy avocado, and the earthy beans all combined in a symphony of textures and tastes. Even the morcilla, which I was initially hesitant about, was surprisingly delicious, with a subtle sweetness that balanced its savory flavor. I found myself devouring it, one bite at a time, marveling at the audacity and the sheer deliciousness of it all. I thought "it’s a lot like coding with all of my friends in the same room yelling about the code to use: intense, but surprisingly satisfying and filling!”

Finding Serenity (and Hummingbirds) After the Boom

Needing a bit of calm after my sensory overload, I found a local guide to take me bird watching. Bird watching near Medellin offers an amazing experience! I needed to find some wildlife in Colombia, and it was truly awesome. It was time to reset before heading back to my keyboard. I managed to snap a few photos, like the Sword-billed Hummingbird. I was blown away by the impossibly long beak!

There was also the Booted Racket-tail, known for its distinctive tail feathers. The local guide had unique names for each bird and taught me how to identify them, it was very helpful! The focus was not on getting perfect photographs, but on appreciating the unexpected beauty and strangeness of the natural world around me.

Embrace the Chaos: What's Your Tejo Moment?

My Colombian adventure was a far cry from the perfectly planned itineraries and predictable experiences I usually gravitate towards. It was messy, chaotic, and often downright ridiculous. But it was also exactly what I needed. My trip to Colombia taught me that life, like a badly thrown tejo, doesn't always go according to plan. Sometimes, you land in a pit of coffee beans. But it's in those unexpected, chaotic moments that the real adventure lies. Now, I am recommending Colombia solo travel tips to all of my colleagues.

What’s your tejo moment? Share your own travel mishaps and embrace the unexpected!

Join the #ClumsyColombianChallenge on social media and share your own travel mishaps! Here are a few examples to get you started:

• A sudden downpour that turned a hike into a mud-sliding adventure.
• Discovering a hidden, local festival with impromptu street dancing.
• Having to communicate with locals using only hand gestures and a phrasebook after getting lost.

Use #ClumsyColombianChallenge and #vistalocation to get featured!