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| Cristo Rey - Cali, Colombia |
I have always imagined myself being in the places that I read about in books. As I grew older, it evolved to travel magazines and the internet. My first trips were New York as a kid, then again at 16 years old. My first international trip occurred at 19; I went to Bogota, and Cali, Colombia. Staying with a high school friend and his family, it was a beautiful introduction to all that learning a culture entails. It was my inspiration to learn Salsa, Spanish, and it fed the fire in me to learn and see more of the world and the people in it. My friend Camilo lived in Palmira, so after a few days in Bogota, we were off to Valle del Cauca. It was Christmas break 2003, and many other students were home from school as well. So many differences, and although it took sometime, I learned to embrace most things. Lunch which was served around noon, and was the biggest meal of the day often consisting of Carne Asada, rice, and lentils, but arroz con pollo was my favorite dish. Dinner consisted of a sandwich or maybe some fruit or leftovers from lunch. During the night we would hangout with friends drinking Aguardiente Blanco and enjoying each others company. We would go out and listen to music, and everyone danced Salsa and Cumbia. The females stated that if I didn't dance Salsa then I wasn't dancing, so I learned the basic step. I tore my ACL and Meniscus, and was doing the heel toe 3 days later. I didn't know that I had to pay a tax to leave the country, and didn't have the funds. In Bogota alone, my mother Western Unioned me cash; the plane left before I received it. With luggage and a bum knee, I had to decide my next steps carefully. The popular assertions from family and friends involving being safe were on my mind, but were quickly replaced with the energy of the moment. I limped out in search of a cab, and found an older lady that I felt comfortable with. I didn't speak much Spanish yet, but I communicated that I needed a really cheap hotel. Before we could do that, I needed to find Western union to get my cash.The cab waited as I went to Western union, and the route to the hotel was smooth. She gave me her number, and stated that she would be there to pick me up at 6 am. The hotel was quaint, and had a really old feel to it. My room was $30, and had to single beds and a bathroom. it also had a small balcony. As she said she would be, my cab was there at 6, and I was put on standby and successfully caught my flight to Miami. I arrived at the Airport, and had another tough decision to make. I missed my train back to South Carolina, and had to buy another ticket.After paying for a cab to get to Hialeah where Amtrak is, I was informed that I missed the train for the day and would have to stay over night. Once again broke. I stashed my luggage under the outside luggage racks beside the train station, and began the trek to the closest Western Union about a mile away. I arrive and am told that it there machine was down, so I walked to another one. $100 dollars in my pocket, I catch the bus back to Hialeah. As the sun began to set I sat on the luggage rack. With $60 dollars needed for the train ticket, I decided to sleep under the luggage rack happy that it was 70 degrees in January. I caught the train the next day, and was relieved to be ending the journey. Remembering as I peered out of the window (Palmira, Eucalyptus leaves, Saunas, Oranges, Salsa, Adiela, Billos, Guado, Chiclets, Carlos, La Finca, Pedro, Ramon, Diaz), I'll never forget that feeling of numbness in feeling empowered. Realizing, the body can do what is needed...being in unique experiences and places heightens your senses...learning new language is a constant puzzle in the brain...the beauty is in the journey...people make the journey more memorable...learning through experience is golden...Colombia forever...Grateful.
