My 2013 Sholarship Entry

Everyone thought I was crazy. “Colombia on your own?” they’d scorn over the phone. “You’re too young, too white, too womanly!” they’d profess with stern voices of judgement.
I had my street smarts with me, and my common sense in tow. My desire led me and my need to comprehend the feeling of one-single-word drove me south.

Never, never before had I known the meaning and the true feeling of "tranquillo" until I reached Cartagena. The historical old town within the walled city may be poor in most people's standards, but by God they are not poor in culture. Sitting up on the bar stool of Café Havana in this heritage filled city, indulging in cool Mojitos, menthol cigarettes and listening to a local band perform, I truly felt calm and for once I solely understood their pace, their rhythm and way of life. It is nothing that pictures, words or stories can relate, and it is nothing short of a wondrous sensation. It is a personal yet communal understanding here, that this is how they enjoy life. Through the rhythm of their music, through their songs of love and passion, it is honest and rare and damn right beautiful in its truest sense. Couples, strangers and singletons dance closely to each others bodies on the little space the dance floor creates. No one cares if three inches from them there are others dancing. No one steps on the other's toes no matter how close they get, they all share the same beat. It is just one big dance, one big long dance. Outside the club’s windows are bars fit for a jail of maximum security. Inside the walls lives and breathes a knowing, a life, a tranquillo kind of existence. I take a sip of my Mojito, butt out my cigarette and quickly get asked to dance.