I went with friends to the finca just outside Bogota for an asada, or barbecue, this afternoon. The taxi driver decided to stay for a while, after much insisting, and we all ate way too much meat with our fingers.
After we ate until we could eat no more and the dogs were perfectly round and content, we said goodbye to the taxista and went for a walk, or so it was advertised. Cesar brought my guitar along and we half-invented, half sang songs, stumbled through potato fields in the dark, got slightly electrified by an errant fence, and just stared at the sky, which was gorgeous. A hour later, completely soaked and exuberant, we found the house again.
Several hours later, we were back in Bogota. Yes, we had to walk a bit and it wasn't clear at several points whether we'd be walking all the way back to the city or catching the late bus, but in the hands of friends and acquaintances, with that little bit of extra patience I've been cultivating, we made it, freezing, wet, and feliz.
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