Safety and Nets
It was a rough game this morning. It started to rain. But hope came not in the form of a rainbow or a rainbow kick but a goal assist by Sy. I say assist because he “assisted” the other team in delivering the ball into their own net. In keeping with the previous two games, the final score is still irrelevant. Sy consumed his usual post-play snack: a bottle of Sportade, empanadas, a pre-packaged helado, and Cheetos.
From there we drove to Resort del Cafe, a property outside the city perched above coffee crops, plantain trees and other tropical forestry, which is a color I now call “Manizales green.” It falls on the spectrum somewhere between kelly and hunter. The boys played pool and in the pool while the grown-ups lounged and spied the cabanas—individual accommodations with a jacuzzi tub on each terrace and an adjacent hammock, or really a flat net, hanging over the treetops (see picture above to believe it). How do you say liability insurance in Spanish? I know this afternoon sits in great contrast to the Barrio Unidos visit yesterday as well as our upcoming one to Barrio Alto del Guamo tomorrow.
Back in the city, we gathered to watch the COPA final match. Mazel tov, Messi and team Argentina. Despite your beating the Colombians on Tuesday night, they seemed to be genuinely rooting for you this evening.
A few final thoughts on my prior post, specifically around our cable car ride yesterday, daily mountainous drives, and general safety and wellbeing. I grew up anxious about a lot of things when we travelled: heights, guardrail-less roads, streets at night. I held my breath on funiculars and chairlifts, stiffened on long car rides through winding, steep terrain, and shivered from fear walking down streets at night with my parents. I often threw up. But I’m learning that the longer I stay in a place, the deeper my trust grows—in its mechanics, neighborhoods, foods and people. It’s refreshing to know that you can shed fears as you get older, even as you accumulate experience that gives you yet more reasons to be afraid.