On a Sunday Afternoon in Bogotá, Colombia.
It was February 26, 2017, and I was wrapping up a 10 day training in Bogotá, Colombia.
After an intense week of a learning how to teach English as a foreign language and how to integrate ourselves in Colombian culture, the organizers awarded us with a free day to rest and explore the city.
Myself and two other volunteers decided to hike to the top of Mount Monserrate, so that we could get some exercise and take in a beautiful view of the city.
The hike up the mountain was pretty intense, so we decided to go down in the cable car.
We blew an opportunity to try the local cuisine and ended up eating lunch at a Subway of all places.
At that point, I was ready to head back to the hotel. After all, the only plan that I was aware of was to climb Mount Monserrate.
But Athena (we called her “A”) was like a leaf blowing in the wind and wasn’t ready to land just yet.
Un Cafecito with Strangers
After finishing our lunch, we began to discuss how we would get back to the hotel when it suddenly occurs to “A” that she has a friend that lives in the neighborhood that she’d like to visit.
This came out of left field and was not discussed at all before that moment.
Having spent only a few days Colombia, I had not yet adapted to the “go with the flow” lifestyle that exists in most parts of Central and South America.
My inner “gringo” (and introvert) was screaming: “THIS WASN’T IN THE PLANS! LET’S JUST GET BACK TO THE HOTEL AND REST.”
But with my lack of abilities to communicate in Spanish along with the anxiety of being in an unfamiliar big city, I had no choice but to go along with whatever A had in mind.
What exactly did A have in mind? It turns out that A didn’t have anything in mind. That is, she didn’t have a plan that she had prepared and was now ready to carry out.
The plan unfolded on its own.
It started as a thought – “I should give my friend a call to see if she lives nearby. Maybe she is free, and we can stop by to say hello?”
The thought was followed by a phone call.
During the phone call, there was the invitation to come over.
And so, we went. And we met a wonderful woman and her son, whose names I forget now, but it doesn’t matter.
She welcomed us into her home, made us coffee and tea and gave us a snack.
Her son gave us all gifts and practiced his English with us.
He asked us if we knew how to dance because you can’t survive in Colombia without dancing. We didn’t know how to dance – not like they do at least, but we wanted to learn.
And so he taught us – los pasos básicos por lo menos.
After a few hours, we left and have never spoken since. What a beautiful way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Two hours of my life that I will never forget and never would have experienced had we stuck to “the plan”.
An Unexpected Gift
That young man and his mother did more than teach me how to dance salsa that afternoon.
They showed me that sometimes life spoils your plans because it wants to bring you a gift – in this case it was the gift of spending a few moments with a stranger that you will never see or talk to again in your life.
There’s something vulnerable and fragile about it but also very precious – a seemingly random encounter with no expectations or commitments tied to it.
It is now more than five years later, and I’m living in the United States once again. Unfortunately for my friends and family, they now have to deal with a new version of me that doesn’t like to commit to social plans.
As for Athena, I haven’t spoken with her since our time together in Colombia, but I’ll never forget her or that afternoon in Bogotá.
And, I’ll never forget the conversation in the Uber ride back to the hotel.
It went something like this:
Me: “So, where did you meet this woman?”
A: “On the plane.”
Me: “On the plane? What plane?”
A: “The plane to Bogotá.”
Me: “I don’t understand. I thought you said this woman was a friend.”
A: “She is my friend. She sat next to me on the plane, we had a great conversation and exchanged numbers before we got off.”
