Turf, Tightropes and Tarantulas

The day started in the night with a 5:15AM wake-up for a 7AM game. We drove to a dramatically-situated turf field with a matching mountain back-drop. Our 2009/2010 orange team played a black and white jerseyed one, and since the boys travelled to South America to compete and have fun, the final score is irrelevant. Afterwards we watched the 2007/2008 orange team. Their final game score is also irrelevant. By 10AM, Sy had consumed six empanadas. 

Back at the hotel we let the boys rest while my madre compadre and travel companion, Diana, and I ate quinoa bowls at the nearby Tu cocina tu medicina. These were the first real veggies our bodies had ingested since arrival. Then we moved up the hill for espresso and cortados at the open-air Juan Valdez cafe, the first potable coffee our mouths had tasted since arrival. Late afternoon we boarded the bus for the Ecoparque Los Yarumos, on the way noticing more instances of a local trend. At red lights on big avenidas, performers come out to do tricks. The other day we saw a woman in a short plaid skirt stand on a crate on one leg, spin a hula hoop on her other, and juggle bowling pins, all before the light turned green and she paraded through the moving cars and trucks for tips. Today we spotted another woman on a unicycle doing a similar routine. But the stoplight gold medal goes to a man who swiftly tied a rope across the intersection, then proceeded to walk across the tightrope while, that’s right, juggling. This is a compelling vocation that takes talent, timing and a deep knowledge of traffic patterns. 

At the ecopark, the air is a welcome break from the city’s exhaust-filled atmosphere. We hiked a tropical forest and learned about which plants are used in local dish preparations (name forgotten) and which will irritate your skin (name also forgotten). At the interactive nature center, we were introduced to the park residents: poisonous snakes, snails, bugs and tarantulas. Sy let one crawl on his arm and insisted I do the same. When your son asks you to “get a tarantula tickle,” you’d better not turn him down. Dinner was up high at a soccer club with turf fields, food stalls and tents with tables and blue bean bag cushions. We ate, we kicked, we cornholed. There’s an 8AM game tomorrow at a new field— here’s to hoping the score won’t be irrelevant.