contrary to popular wishes--you howling, bloodthirsty mob, you--i was not kidnapped in colombia. my ears were not sliced off and mailed to my loved ones along with notes in badly written spanish asking for an exorbitant sum in exchange for the safe return of the rest of my anatomy (intact). i was not caught in the crossfire of the guerillas and the paras. i was not car-bombed. i was not captured, cooked, and consumed by the one of the few remaining tribes deep in the heart of the sweltering, throbbing amazon. in fact, the worst thing that happened was that i had the big d and yarfed in the same inodoro in the span of five minutes. otherwise, lo pasamos chancho--we had a blast.

three major conclusions come out of my trip:

1) my lovely girlfriend has eighteen hundred aunts and four hundred thousand cousins. they live in five households in various parts of colombia.

2) there are more kinds of fruits in colombia, horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. many of these have no name in english. you just have to have faith.

3) little boys are happiest on a farm. it lets them get dirty and smelly and helps them grow up strong, without regrets. young man, put down your guns and your playstation and leave your motor car along the roadside. go to the country, ride a mule and milk a goat. sell the milk and give the money to your mother. pick a strawberry and eat it. wipe your chin with your sleeve. these things will do you good.

so--vacations can be very awesome, especially ones in colombia. thanks to the compadres and everyone who showed us such amazing kindness and generosity and buena onda. ya regresamos--be back soon.

return to her tierra natal with me,
TR