The Faces of Colombia

I realised now that i had been drawing these faces all my life. If I doodled, these were them, if i drew a cartoon character, these were them and i realised that on a primal level, i had a connection.

I was in Colombia, a 50th birthday present from husband, a coming home present. I was born here, but until now nothing had felt familiar or like home.My mother is from Buenos Aires, my father English. They had married in Argentina and then Dad had been posted to Colombia. I was the first born, July 30th 1968, Bogota.

The city, now relatively safe, was probably the most dangerous captain the world then. Cars had bulletproof windows and despite the the heat no one opened them. It was said that a watch would disappear from your wrist in the blink of an eye.

My father had helped establish the Gold Museum in Bogota and as a thank you he had been given four exact copies of the original artefacts. Each were about the size of a fist, and intricate conceptions of ancient Gods, part animal, part human. Each piece were between 22 carat and 24 carat gold and as such as soft as play dough. They remained housed in glass display boxes on my mothers dressing table in all her subsequent moves - a special souvenir of that other time.

But we weren’t inBogota now, we were at the National Archeological Park of St. Augustine. This little known and relatively recently discovered archeological site. A place of burial and worship, and sculptures that stand at least 20ft high -their heads larger than their bodies, ancient. They are reminiscent to the figures figures of Easter Island, here though the noses are bulbous, flat significant.

Ou guide began to to tells the stories of the stones. And somehow I already knew them. They spoke to me , they talked of Shamans who longed toe animals, Mohave the sight of the eagle, the wings of the owl, the wisdom of the monkey, the stealth of the cat. Each figure, and there were 100s, depicted shame and his chosen path. He would stand at the entrance to his tomb with two guards or disciples and below, his relics.

The faces had large mouths and prominent teeth. These apparently related to the depth of the shamans knowledge and the animal he he had chosen to become. Odd numbers meant that he was still learning, even numbers’ master.

The faces, it was those faces. I had been drawing them all my life and yet had never seen them before. It was here that many gold amulets, necklaces and vessels had been found buried and are now housed in the ever expanding Gold Museum in Bogota.

Again the guide drew our attention to the position of the figures, the sculptures ability to be mathematically accurate in their symmetry. The precision of the craftsmanship. But what he missed was their residing potential to raise the hairs on the back of your neck,1000s of years later.

There is a legend, that of El Dorado, where the new prince paid homage to the lady of the lake. if he did not she would bind him to her in the underworld forever. The prince rolls himself infold dust and takes a raft out to the centre of the lake where he dives into the water and appears clean, a a new king.

For me I felt like that prince. I had dived into the lake and remerged , a new cleaner self filled with knowledge from bygone years, a new queen.