It was raining and raining without respite, we had walked only a few blocks when the torrential downpour fell upon us without warning; the guide immediately told us that any self-respecting Bogota citizen should always carry an umbrella in his or her bag or backpack; she asked us if we had brought an umbrella and out of seven, only four of us answered yes; the rest stared anxiously at Gina, the guide.

—Take out your umbrellas, my people, the tour is going to continue, please those who have umbrellas share with those who don’t and so we continued in pairs; —said Gina—

We walked about 4 blocks under the torrential downpour, this helped us connect with each other by having to share umbrellas the whole way. Without realizing it, we found ourselves in front of a pink house that looked a lot like the mansions in Andalusia, Spain that I had visited a few years ago.

—Welcome to Maria Tomasa. —said Gina, who looked happy to have arrived—

We left the umbrellas at the entrance, followed our guide and the host into the house.

—This is the first stop of our local experience in Bogotá. —said our guide inviting us to sit down—

I was disoriented; from the first moment when we met our guide she had told us that to begin the tour and to get to know Bogotá as the capital of Colombia and not as an isolated city; it was necessary to meet María Tomasa; at that moment I imagined that we were going to meet a Caribbean matron who would teach us how to cook; I imagined this because of that peculiar name. But we were here in this big house and I didn’t see any María anywhere. The guide explained to us that María Tomasa was a Colombian Caribbean food restaurant located in the heart of La Candelaria; and that its creators were from the Colombian Caribbean; Gina also commented that that was the magic of Bogotá; it was the inclusive and diverse capital of all Colombians. As Gina continued talking and giving us information about the place and what we were going to do, I was mesmerized by the place that was beginning to capture me; I looked at one of the walls without blinking, attracted by a large, whitish leaf that was next to us; eight individual peaks seemed to merge into one. Noticing my astonishment, Gina explained to us that this was the leaf of a tree called yarumo and that in the worldview of the natives of Colombia it was the tree of ancestral wisdom; then she also began to explain about the palm trees, cactus like the cola de mico and others that set the scene; we were in a restaurant, in a city of around 10 million inhabitants, but at the same time we were in a type of ecosystem native to the mountains of northern Colombia; we had been transported there without realizing it from the moment we entered the pink house.

—Guys, now we are going to try fish ceviche, corozo juice, green plantain chips, yuca and arracacha. —said the guide—

—We normally make fish ceviche here at María Tomasa with sea bass or tilapia, —said Eduardo, one of the creators and our host in that magical place—

When the dish arrived at the table; how to explain it, it was perfect; a combination of colors and smells, a long, crimson red shot, which was the corozo juice; next to it, the ceviche served in a white stoneware vessel with the onion and fish, which played in perfect harmony ready to call our attention and awaken our appetite; around it, the chips of the different traditional Colombian tubers; I had never heard of arracacha; and although I had heard of yuca; everything was different and exotic to me. I knew the stories about the giant bananas that Colombians called plantains and that could not be eaten raw, that they had to be cooked, but I would never have imagined that it would be so delicious; the slice of green plantain was undoubtedly my favorite of all. While we all ate, Gina continued explaining each of the ingredients of this dish, always referencing some connection with the idiosyncrasy and culture of Colombians. Time had flown by while we enjoyed and learned more about María Tomasa. In the end, the mansion turned out to be the equivalent of a Colombian Caribbean matron and had welcomed us to the Bogota gastronomy tour and with this she opened the door to the Candelaria walking experience.

—Let’s continue; our adventure has just begun and it has already stopped raining. —said Gina smiling—

We took our umbrellas; we looked in disbelief; The sun was radiant on the street.

By Fredy calderon