After enjoying our evening English sessions so much, I was invited to
move into the house to share in a season with one of the most carinoso,
loving and fun families I’ve ever encountered in my travels. Now, I’m
quite conscious that here in the magical little Colombian community of
Taganga, I’m making memories that my eyes will one day tear up over,
but I’m too busy loving it all up to miss it quite yet.
Please, meet my family...
This is Mayra, my 12-year old adopted sister. She teaches me how to properly mash patacones
(fried plaintain) and I help her translate Bob Marley songs. When we’re
not swimming or singing, she’s usually making "yuck" faces at all my
raw vegetables and doing everything within the power of her persuasions
to get me to eat meat.
This is my host mother Diana. She’s taught me the secrets (canela and panela!) of making a proper Colombian tinto (coffee). Despite the fact that she’s lived in Taganga for three years, she’d never been to the only discoteque
in town. So, on her insistence, Annie and I took her out last weekend,
where she held her own on the dance floor (without a sip of alcohol)
‘till 3:30 in the morning!
Meet
Annie, our in house resident expert in song and salsa! We spend
evenings turning the kitchen into a dance floor as she instructs me in
the subtle shoulder, hip and rump rotations that distinguish cumbiafrom mapale and purro. She shakes it like only a Latina pura can.
And
this is Freddy! From the minute I wake up (at the crack of dawn) to the
first minute he spots me climbing over the hill towards the house, at
the top of his lungs he screams his enthusiastic greeting; "CHRISTINA
AGUILERA!" He wants nothing to do with conjugating verbs and is
constantly throwing his fist onto the table to ask, "Yes. But HOW do I
say in English, "If your new Colombian girlfriend spends the night
while you’re staying in our hotel, then you have to pay the price of
two people." We take trips on the moto to go pick up Mayra at
her grandmother’s house in true Colombian style: one moto, three
people, two backpacks, two ice-cream cones, and a weeks work of
groceries and a five gallon jug of water dangling off all limbs not
driving.
I’m
not the only long-term hotel guest who’s fallen in love with this
house. This is Martin, who Diana refers to as "whoo hoo!" which is the
whoop noise he makes when he gets excited, which he did a lot of when
making Switzerland’s national dish, Roshti, for everyone last night.
And
this is David from Israel, who’s been happily "stuck" in Tanganga while
suffering from some "mystery disease" that the doctors here think might
be dengue fever and which he INSISTS that he cured by consuming obscene
amounts of garlic. But I have to admit, the 40 cloves of garlic that I
chopped and added to his special Shakshuka recipe, did make for a salivating experience.
This
is the fruit juice bar of Anna and Kelli, where you can find me every
morning and at every sunset, sipping on concoctions of guanabana, papaya, mango, maracuya, and lulo.
There isn’t an easier place in the world to do a juice fast and as a
result, we wink at each other over my special discounted rates.
This
is Swiss Diana, who has an English book exchange in town that I visit
on almost a daily basis. I’ve already read four books off her shelf and
am now busy translating and creating promotional flyers for her in
exchange for organic papayas from her garden. Yum.
This
is Black #2. I used to take him for walks on the beach, but when he
gets tired he refuses to move and I’ve grown tired of carrying him
home. And he only responds to commands in Spanish "puppy-talk" (which
is what Diana uses) and I just can’t bring myself to make my voice so
high or strange.
This
is Dana, the REAL big baby of the house. She sneaks up on me in the
grass or when I’m in the hammock, and with no warning, I suddenly have
100 pounds of Dana on top of me. My only protection is...
Mama
Tacha, who’s always ready to take a quick snap at a sol-stalking Dana.
Mama Tacha and I have a special affinity towards each other. I think
it’s because she too was a wanderer who followed her nose up to this
house where she was treated with such love that she refused to leave.
Tacha follows me everywhere. Be it on the beach or at the bar, she
stands patiently by my side, always within distance of a reassuring pat
or longer loving pet.
Well, it’s Christmas Eve, and "CHRISTINA
AQUILERA! VENGA POR UN TINTO!" is being shouted up to me from
downstairs. Time for me to join and delight in the laughter and smells
wafting up to my room. Sending wishes out to all, that in your holiday
also, may the only thing hotter than the tinto be the warmth of the loved ones you share it with.
