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Just when I thought my vacation to Colombia couldn't get any better, I was approached by four friendly-looking locals. "Get een car," said one, pointing to a rusty taxicab parked on the dirt. What luck! Here I was, invited to join real Colombians on a genuine Colombian adventure! Of course I got in.
The men weren't much for conversation during the ride. I tried to enjoy the scenery but it was tough with the black shroud they had put over my head. Oh well, I thought, when in Rome.
The car finally stopped and they let me look around. Wow, I
thought, what a gorgeous place. They had a rustic-looking bungalow nestled deep
within the Colombian jungle. Glancing at the AK-47s sitting idly next to the
door, I figured there must be some exotic wildlife nearby, too.
"Where are we going now?" I asked, ashamed to sound so touristy.
"Eef you talk, you die," one said. How stupid was I? I
should have known the Colombians to be a quiet people by now.
They led me to a back room where they were baking a cake, with mixing bowls and white powder everywhere. "What's this balloon for?" I asked, unable to stay quiet any longer. "Are you having a party?" They didn't respond. Typical introverted Colombians, I chuckled to myself. One of the men filled the balloon with powder, tied it off, and handed it to me.
"Swallow. Eef it
break, you die." Well, I thought, why not? These men had welcomed me into their
authentic Colombian home--the least I could do was to pretend to enjoy their
cooking. It wasn't the most pleasant thing I'd ever done, but who cares about
"pleasant" when you're having an eye-opening cultural experience?
The ride back seemed shorter. Maybe it was because I lost consciousness when they tossed me into the car, but I think it was because I was sad to be leaving. They handed me plane tickets to Miami with instructions for where to bring the balloon. Hey, I thought, another adventure--and I've never been to Florida, either!
All the same, I'll miss my Colombian friends. I remember the butt of Pedro's rifle, playfully prodding my ribs to let me know to get out of the car, or the way José would take care not to cut off circulation when he tied my hands. Vacations can be fun, but friendships last a lifetime.
