Had a fun outing Sunday with my Bucaramanga/Floridablanca family. Extended. Patriarch is Edilberto, a bizarre combination of Anglo-Saxon and Latin. Edilberto is a cab driver who also has a part-time farm and raises cocks for fighting. Somewhat more than I could count, and I didnt even try memorizing any more than the girls names. Being Colombianas, theyre all beautiful -- up to that deadly age of 30. The tiniest, Veronica Diana, is age five. Loves to pose. Took a real liking to me. Asked incredulously, Do you speak English? Yes, I really do! Speaking English in Colombia, outside of Bogota and Cartagena, makes you a sort of wizard. All Colombians aspire to speak English, virtually none can. I think its a genetic thing... Up the age ladder is Marcela, with those huge brown eyes. Probably 9 or 10. Then theres Erika in green and Ingrid, ages 13 and 16, although I thought Erika was older because shes, um, better developed. Ingrid could be the Scandinavian beauty her name hints at. But her older sisters, actually not yet 30, are extremely fat, as is her mom, who probably looked a lot like Ingrid at her age. This seems to be a fact of life in Colombia. Youve got to do what Elvis did with Priscilla; catch them really young and just keep them isolated until theyre old enough to marry. Yet even after a year-and-a-half in this culture, I saw a guy in church with a girl who appeared to be about half his age and was struck by it. I have dated lots of girls have my age! But thats the reality here; you marry them young, preferably when YOURE young. Then you both go to pot together. Its probably better in this area because its the whitest big city in Colombia and whites seem genetically inclined to age less slowly than mestizos, as well as staying thinner. But I havent let myself go to pot. So when some fat beast who still is 10 years younger than me, and has nothing more to offer than a high-school education and a kid or two in toe, expresses interest in me... I dont express back. Anyway, so we all piled into a fabric-covered truck in chairs or on the floor and went to visit the nearby pueblo of Giron. Not a whole lot to it, but a relatively large cathedral. Bucara/Florida is very Catholic, as opposed to pagan Medellin and protestant Barranquilla. That said, the day before I spent three hours with another family at an arm-waving evangelical service. As youd guess, Colombian Catholocism has a lot of the superstition stuff, including putting little charm-like things on a gate (Ingrids backside photo) to request stuff. People were really keen on being sprayed with holy water, too. Not my thing as a Catholic, but a whole lot better than the paganism with which I was surrounded for more than a year. None of which, incidentally, kept Ingrids older sisters from having kids out of wedlock. Sigh. What I really enjoyed was how they reveled in each others company. Constantly hugging and kissing and touching. They dont have much. Their home resembles a concrete bunker. Not even painted. Bathroom is a toilet, sink, shower head, curtain. Come to think of it, so are MY bathrooms! Well, worse than mine. But they have a TV, beds, dinner table, decent kitchen, and they have each other. I truly enjoyed being part of the family that night. And will again in the future. Cant wait for that first cock-fight! Ugh!
Posted on: Tue, 29 Oct 2013 03:22:13 +0000
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