A Trip to Paradise: Part VII

Luisa warned me before I feel sleep that we would have to wake up early the next morning, but she doesn't wake me until after eight. Claudia is coming at nine to take me to breakfast. I shower and east breakfast. Again, the juice is my favorite part.
Claudia shows up on time. Her mother is driving. Claudia sits with me in the back seat. The car has a seatbelt. I put it on, grateful to feel safe. She laughs and we reminisce about all the times I had to remind them to put their seatbelts on when they were in Utah. I give her the gifts I brought and the gift Kristi sent for her. She has a gift for me too. A hand painted picture of a dancing girl with a note written on the back. It is beautiful. When I get home I will put it on my wall so I can think of Claudia, my dear friend, every day.
Claudia's mother drops us off at a small outdoor cafe. There are a lot of cafes like this one in Cali. This is the first one I've been to tough. It takes us a while to order because I don't really know what most of the food they're serving is. Claudia explains the dishes to me. I end up with scrambled eggs, yay for normal food, a potato, another arepa, and some other thing that was really good but I can't remember what it was called. It was like a package ball with cheese inside. Yum!
I really try, but I cannot finish my food. Back home, I usually don't have time for breakfast at all l let alone one as big as this. My stomach is just plain not accustomed to it. Claudia and I finish, then start walking. I had expressed a desire to go shopping so she was going to take me to another mini mall. The walk is not excessively long, but it is hot. We see some really beautiful flowers along the way.
We arrive at the mall. My first priority is figuring out how to get more money from my bank account. I'm concerned because I don't know if any of the banks here will take my card. The first one we go to can't, but the teller shows us where another bank is that can. We are much more successful at the second bank. It is kind of weird to use an ATM with Colombian pesos instead of dollars. Claudia takes a few minutes to explain how the pesos translate into dollars. One thousand pesos is nearly fifty cents, so obviously two thousand pesos is close to a dollar ish. I take what I think will be enough to last me the rest of my trip from the ATM.
Next, I want to buy some sandals. Sandals are very common here. It makes sense considering the climate. Back home I don't think I even own any sandals. I have a lot of boots, though. Claudia takes me to a shoe store. They have the exact sandals Claudia is wearing today. I like them a lot. They have my size in the back room. I pay somewhere around thirty thousand pesos for them. I hope they will be useful if Africa.
Wearing my new sandals, Claudia and I next go in search of a place to send my postcards. We go to several stores, but have no luck. Finally, in a kind of grocery store, we find a place that will send them...for forty dollars! I decide I don't want to send postcards that badly.
Claudia asks several times if I am hungry. I am still full from our huge breakfast. I won't let her buy me more food that I won't be able to finish. Luisa calls. She says it is time for me to return to her house. She is taking me up to the mountains. Claudia finds us a taxi. We drive down the same road Claudia and I walked up earlier on our way to the mall. The road looks much longer now, perhaps because I am more tired now than I was earlier, or because I am excited to go to the mountains and this long road must be passed before that can happen.
When we arrive at Luisa's house, she tells me to dress warm. She says the mountains are cold. I change into warmer shoes, sad to take off my awesome new sandals, and dig out my leather jacket which I haven't needed to wear since I arrived.
Luisa's cousin comes to pick us up in her car. it is the first car I have seen here that wouldn't be out of place back home in Utah. It's dark colored, clean, and has seatbelts. Yay for seatbelts! Luisa and I sit together in the back. Luisa's mom sits in the front.
Luisa and I talk a lot. I practice speaking Spanish with her. She practices her English. Luisa smiles as lot. She is very beautiful when she smiles. Luisa tells me we will soon pass houses built on the mountain side. Sure enough, the roads get quickly steeper and the houses rise above us, looking like dollhouses on display. it reminds me a little of San Francisco, but without all the tall apartment buildings and skyscrapers to impede the view.
Through the whole ride, I have my camera out. As we speed up the mountain, Luisa and I take turns taking pictures out our windows. Most of them turn out blurry, but I do not stop to erase them. I don't want to miss anything. These mountains are spectacular. They remind me enough of home to make me comfortable and happy, but they are different enough to keep my head spinning back and forth trying to speak in every detail. These mountains are less rocky than ours back home, and much more green. At home, the mountains are covered with evergreens and aspens. Here there are a million different kinds of palms, and banana trees, and mango trees, and countless other trees I have never heard of. All the trees and plants are rich green, and bright flowers stand out in all colors, especially reds and yellows. There is no sign of the sandy oranges and reds so commonly found in Utah.
The houses have thinned, but we still pass the occasional home built into the mountain. We even pass a couple small groups of houses, like villages. The houses are painted beautiful colors. One has as spray painted mural of a guacamaya. I take some pictures as we pass. Only one turns out well, but one is all I need.
I have no idea how long the drive is, but I wish it could last forever. If course it doesn't, and we finally reach a dirt and gravel road, which takes us to the top of a mountain. It is not the highest mountain around us, but the view is gorgeous. Low clouds creep up the mountain and cover us with light fog.
Our destination is a small group of buildings on the top of the mountain. Luisa tells me this place is called Eighteen Kilometer. There is a building that looks like it could be a hotel. It has several floors and open air wooden stairs leading to the upper floors. I climb the stairs to the top. Luisa takes some pictures. A sign on the building says "California". I come down and we take more pictures around the buildings. There are many beautiful flowers up here. My camera takes great close up shots.
We walk past several open air shops. They look like they are closed. So far, I have seen no other people since our arrival. There is a life-size statue of a black boy squatting, like he's on the toilet. He has wide white eyes that make me think of Cynthia. This statute's eyes would freak her out. I take a picture with mischievous intentions.
At last, we come to a shop with people, only a few, but they take our order. We sit at a table inside a restraint. We are the only customers. The table we choose is round and made of heavy wood, like the tables in old fashioned taverns in movies. Our table is closest to the window. Well, I suppose I can't call it a window because there is no glass. It just opens up to the air with a view of the road and valley below. I watch several dogs pass. I think of Nathan again and his comments about the dogs in Chile. I also see a chiva. Osaias gave me a clay chiva when he was in Utah. I am glad I get to see a tall one. Luisa explains that farmers use chiva to carry their produce in to town to be sold. To me, they look a bit like circus trucks. They have slightly pointed roofs with a guard around the edge to keep produce secured on top. The rest looks a bit like a bus, wide with a lot of seats inside and long windows. This chiva is painted bright blue. I am told they can be many colors.
Our drinks arrive, chocolate con queso, hot chocolate with cheese. The hot chocolate is in a huge mug the size of a cereal bowl. The cheese sits on the plate next to the mug. It's white and rubbery. Luisa demonstrates how to cut the cheese into small pieces and drop them into the chocolate. The chocolate melts the cheese, making it stringy. It was quite delicious, but certainly unusual. I'm not sure cheese and chocolate were meant to go together.
As we eat out chocolate, I snap some pictures. A soft fog has settled on the mountain, obscuring the view of the valley below. I wish my camera would take good pictures of the fog. It's so beautiful. My friends say that the fog is cold. That amuses me. It's warm to me. I even take my jacket off after a while.
We take our time leaving. We look at paintings on the walls of the restaurant. One is a painting of fruit. Luisa's cousin points to the fruits and recites the Spanish names for each one. I repeat after her and then translate into English. She copies my English. I tell her in Spanish that my favorite fruit is watermelon.
We take more pictures, then load back into the car. It's getting to be evening time. Luisa tells me to keep my window rolled up. I don't really understand why, but I trust her anyway.
We don't get far down the road before we notice a problem. We have a flat tire. Luisa's cousin and mom get out. They talk a while and start getting things out of the trunk, but that's as far as they get. I realize they don't know how to change a tire. I ask Luisa if they need help. She confirms my assumption, and sounds surprised that I do know how to change a tire. I laugh inside, remembering the many times I have refused the help of a man because I feel all women should know how to change their own tires. I get out of the car, but before I have a chance to help, a man on a motorcycle arrives and offers his assistance. At home, with my own car, I would have declined the help, but now, I step aside and watch with Luisa. She sits on the spare tire as we wait. I snap some pictures, but they don't turn out well. I don't understand why at first, then I notice spots of light reflected off the camera's flash. It has started to rain, but the drops are so small, and the air so naturally wet, that I had not realized it. Luisa gives up her tire chair and together we put the flat one into the trunk. Soon, the tire is on, Luisa's cousin pays the man for his help, and we are on our way again.
I am tired. The drive back to the city is uneventful. I can see little through the heavily tinted windows. Once we’re back in the city, we stop at a museum. It’s closed, but Luisa takes some pictures of me in front of it, then we run back to the car. We stop again and get out of the car. There is not space to park, so Luisa’s cousin drives on. Luisa explains she will drive around and find a place to wait for us.
Luisa takes me to a statue in a park, of sorts, between two roads. The statue is a cat. I have seen pictures of this cat before. Apparently it’s quite famous. There are people doing strange exercizes on a cement area in front of the cat. I wonder if I look that strange doing zumba with Nina. I probably do.
Luisa takes some pictures of me with the cat. There is a little boy climbing around the base of the statue. He gets in most of the pictures. He’s cute.
Behind the cat, there are more, smaller cat statues. Luisa tells me that they are all decorated by different artists. I don’t count, but I think there are at least a dozon of them, each set fifteen or twenty feet apart along a gravel path. I take pictures of the strange cats. The style of each cat is so unique, I am grateful for my camera. To describe each one would be difficult and leave the reader confused, for not even the most eloquent author can describe the impact of art.
Luisa’s cousin waits for us us at the end of the park. We have to cross the street to reach her car, which is quite a thrilling challenge in Colombian traffic. We make it safely enough, and soon, we arrive home.