Guatapé

#4

Two hours have passed. Why is my bloody apartment still not visible? I was supposed to be there an hour and forty five minutes ago. My back is killing my backpa... my killings packing my... Okay. Someone is about to kill something, or someone.

Here comes that idiot in his tuk tuk again.

“Oye, taxi, taxi?”

“No, gracias, señor.”

“Oye, taxi?”

“Fuck you and your taxi, señor.”

“Taxi?”

“It’s not even a proper taxi. It’s a tuk tuk. You’ve got three wheels and lack doors, you daft idiot.”

I sigh and shake my head. Funny how this ended up being the favourite part of my trip thus far.

Tuk tuk man and I eventually found the place and I turned out to be without roommates. An apartment alone. Stupendous.

From the balcony I can see the rock that brought me here in the first place. A huge boulder with 750 steps that lead to the top with a supposedly great view.

I change clothes and feel grateful for being able to swap sweaty, loud dorm rooms for a private space for a night. The walk with the backpack tore my back and neck muscles apart, so I decide to lie down for a minute, or two hundred.

Feeling somewhat rested I head out into the town and stroll around. The supposedly touristy place is nearly without foreigners. The locals appreciate a moment of fresh air and not having to put on obligatory smiles. We’ve got a thing or two in common.

I walk over the boardwalk whilst the sun starts setting. The scenery is enjoyable to watch and I welcome my friend Silence. Upon seeing the lake I pat myself on the back. I realise that the lake is more than a puddle of water to drown myself in. This is progress.

The alleys that lead further into the village invite me over to take a look and I don’t dare decline. I walk through streets where numerous colourful umbrellas float in the sky, making Lucy’s diamonds have a look of envy.

After going in circles for a while I find myself alone on a square. I take a seat next to me.

“How’s it going, my emo friend?”

“I’m alright, I think.”

“Has this been the right choice?”

“I can’t tell you yet. It’s only been a few weeks.”

“Fair enough.”

The square slowly starts getting more crowded and I shrug my shoulders. “It beats sitting in a dark room contemplating one-time decisions, right?”

“That’s true.” Although I don’t always mind being by myself. It’s mostly the big crowds where loneliness presents itself. Those are the places where I generally feel out of place.

I nod to no one in particular. “I guess healing will take time. Then again, the pain and I are for eternity. How do you heal an open wound?”

I smirk. “Fuck if I know, mate. Just try to enjoy what is now.”

I guess I’m a sinner beyond compare counting his blessings. Trying to keep his head above the surface whilst floating around in his mental quicksand.

A slight drizzle starts coming from the clouds. I don’t mind it. I don’t cry and the tears from above remind me of what it would be like if I was able to.

Talking to oneself is quite peculiar, so I quit the internal dialogue, get up and look for a place to eat. Which I find.

The food is delicious and the two brothers working there are the nicest people I’ve met in this country thus far. Next door is a store owned by the mother and sister, the two brothers run the restaurant and their cousin happens to walk by.

She looks, I do to. She smiles, I smirk.

“Ana,” she introduces herself.

“Vic.”

“¿De donde eres?”

“Los países bajos, holanda,” I reply.

“Why you no smile?” she attempts in English.

“I do all the time. I’ve just been wearing my smile upside down for the past few years. That’s why my lips never surpass a smirk.”

“¿Qué?”

“Never mind.”

She smiles regardless.

“Hungry?” she asks.

Yes, and horny. Maybe I can combine the two tonight. Vegetables and vaginas, sounds like my kind of diet.

We talk a bit, she laughs a bit. I hope she mistakes my depressive energy for pure mystery, which she does. I thank the mother and the sister for the chat, the two brothers for the food and take home the cousin - I guess that’s family business.

From the balcony I can see the rock that brought me here in the first place. A huge boulder with 750 steps that lead to the top with a supposedly great view.

I turn around and look to the sleeping Colombian beauty with whom I spent my night alone together. I leave the 750 steps untouched and step back into bed.

The sun shines, I hear my Colombian mistress snoring. A soft pillow comforts my broken head. The vague outlines of an answer to my previous question start appearing in my mind.

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Picture by: Kristina Gain en Pexels