Andres, the owner of El Color De Mis Reves, has arranged to pick me up at the air cable one stop away from the main bus station. I am to stay there for one month teaching music workshops on the weekends and writing during the day. Food and lodging is included.
After much confusion at the terminal, I finally find my way up the large staircase and onto an air cable towards Manizales. Imagine - four kind and quiet Colombians on their way into town stuffed into the same tiny cable car as one clumsy gringo with way too much baggage. The car is lopsided with my 50lb pack and guitar, but the view is stunning. We are high above the scenic town and I realize I've never seen so many shades of green. Thick masses of Eucalyptus, Palm and Evergreen reach majestically to the clouds that seem just out of their reach. The clouds, like the cable car, move slowly and I relax.
As I leave the car, I spot a tall man waiting by a white Kia. He has dark, curly salt and pepper hair and is very tall. He says "Jana!! I've been waiting, haha!!" I explain my confusion at the terminal and he laughs softly and waves it off. He carries an ease about him that resonates tranquility.
He loads my belongings into the back of his small car and I notice a little girl in a car seat. She is covering both eyes with her hand, her curly black hair cascading over in a playful mess. She is beautiful.
"This is my daughter, Franchesca," Andres explains. "She is three."
"Hi!" I say, somewhat overzealously. I'm surprised when she doesn't respond, then realize this little lady speaks Spanish... not English. Obviously.
"Hola! Como Estas?!" I try. She uncovers one eye and then quickly hides again. I smile and proceed to the front seat. Andres has some errands to run in town and asks if I can stay in the car with Franchesca. "Of course!" I reply.
As soon as Andres leaves, I turn back to Franchesca. "Hola!" Her hands are tight against her eyes. "Yo te veo a ti!..." She removes one hand. "Ah! Aqui!! Franchesca es aqui!" A melodious laughter erupts from her little frame. I've done it!
When I turn around again, her eyes are covered, but her hands can't hide the giant smile taking up the remainder of her face. "Franchesca!... Hola? Franchesca? Donde esta Franchesca??"
"Aqui, aqui!!" She squeals, kicking her feet against my chair.
"Oh! Si! Hola Franchesca!"
This dialogue repeats until her father returns. She resumes silence, but her eyes are no longer hidden and her little mouth has a little smile.
I think we will be the best of friends.
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