Resting in a Cloud

I am flat on my back on the edge of a cliff in the middle of a cloud. My body is sprawled out on this red brick patio. It is cold to the touch, but I don't mind. My head is comfortably resting on my backpack. My wife is lying next to me asleep. I look up and see white. I look all around and all I see is white. I even look down at my feet near the edge of the cliff and see white. There is a little green from the trees and red from the brick that blend with the white. My wife is sleeping and I am enjoying the solitude of this cloud. It is just me and the "trouble and strife" on our own little island cut off from the rest of the world.

Two days ago, my wife and I arrived at this little national park, just a forty minute drive outside of Bogota, to escape the city noise, pollution, and distractions. This park is called Chicaque, also known as the cloud forest. The entrance is on top of the cliff. The refugio, or lodge, is at the bottom of these cliffs and is about an hour's hike straight down. Liz and I stayed at the refugio for two full days with all meals included for around a hundred dollars. There is not much to do at Chicaque but hike, sleep, read, and play cards. We did all of the above. The hikes range from easy to difficult and average about an hour and a half. One hike includes a waterfall which falls from the tops of the cliffs. Chicaque also has a wide variety of animals from horses to llamas and from sheep to parrots. The food is wonderfully filling and we need all the energy we can get as we trek through the woods, shiver at night, and play in the afternoon.

So now I lay here. We just hiked up out of the park, back to the entrance. It was straight up, and I was carrying the bag. It does not matter now, because we are both resting. Alone, we lay here and enjoy the silence knowing that soon our ride will take us back to Bogota. But, for now, we are here. We are isolated and resting on the edge of a cliff in the middle of a cloud. It is white all around with a hint of green and red. Liz is lightly breathing as she sleeps. I pull out Kafka on the Shore and begin to read. I read in the middle of the cloud.

P.S. We lost our pictures of the trip when our "home" computer crashed. Sorry, but the story does describe it vividly, don't you think! --ELC

Feliz Navidad

...Merry Christmas. Today was a wonderful day. Liz and I did not make it home for the holidays this year and decided to spend the time here in Bogota. We also invited our friend Suzanne, who is from California, to stay with us for the past few days. She also was not able to go home for Christmas.

Today was nice and warm. There was no traffic nor slick roads. We enjoyed a wonderful breakfast and opened our stockings. The rest of the day was spent playing cards, watching movies, and cooking dinner. Liz and I had invited our maid Luz and her daughter for dinner, but they were unable to make it. We took a plate full of food to our doorman, Tito. He was very happy for the meal and for the day of Christ's birth.

Liz and I also enjoyed our phone converstaions with family and friends at home today. We do miss them all, and we are grateful for their love and support. Our holiday continues this week with a little travel and fun to a nearby park. We look forward to the new year ahead and the many stories in which we will take part.

So, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, Feliz Navidad y Feliz Ano!

Salud to Life, Love, and You

These days, Liz and I have been trotting around town just the two of us. We have had a busy two weeks with Christmas parties, holiday farewell dinners, and Novenas (a Latin American tradition rooted in the Catholic church celebrating the 9 days before Christmas). Most of our friends, both Colombian and North American, have left for the holidays, and Liz and I are enjoying some rest time. As I type, Liz is sitting in the living room reading a book with candles lit and a Christmas cinnamon scent in the air. MercyMe's Christmas Sessions is playing on our stereo. I feel like I am waking up from a whirlwind of busyness to a calm and peaceful season.

I have just finished reading a book called Can You Drink This Cup? by Henri Nouwen. For those of you who do not know, Henri was a Catholic priest who taught at Notre Dame and other elite schools. He was at the top of his ladder in the professional world when he left it all to work at a home for mentally retarded people. He served as their friend, priest, and nurse-maid. He led a truly amazing, spirit-filled life. He passed away a few years back, but he left a treasure chest in his writings. Most of these books are small and quick reads, but they are filled with a deep understanding for life, suffering, Christ, and purpose.

In this book, he explains the significance of the cup of wine in which Jesus asked two of his followers if they would drink. He then explained what the cup meant to him as a follower of Christ. In brief, he explains the cup as life and all that is in it and all that we do with a cup of wine such as filling, toasting, drinking, and fellowship. As for me, I thought of my life, my family, and my friends. I have finally been able to digest all that the book has taught me in my newly arrived freedom of the season.

So now I sit here, thinking, smiling and typing. My wife is here with me and we are about to have dinner and play some games just the two of us. I am about to enjoy this time with her, and I will drink this moment to the dregs. I pray that you will do the same this holiday with your loved ones. We celebrate Christ this season. We celebrate each other this season. We celebrate life this season.

So, I say salud to you. Now accept your cup, lift it high, and drink it to the dregs.

Burritos in Bogota

Liz and I go to church on Sunday. We have to leave our place an hour before church starts in order to make it to church on time. Yesterday, we left late and without any breakfast. We arrived late only to see that church hasn't started yet and they were still setting up. Again, we remember that time is flexible in Colombia. So now we were early to church, but I was still hungry. I survived through the entire service until we reached one of the last songs after the sermon. It was titled "Mi Burrito Sabanero." Oh man, I started thinking about burritos and my stomach started growling. And yet I sang, "...con mi burrito sabanero vamos a Belen." I think my stomach was singing more than I was.

It turns out that the song wasn't about taking food with me to Belen but riding a little donkey. Oh well, at least I was able to go have some lunch. Maybe I'll have a little donkey with chicken and mole sauce.

Luz Marina

This is Luz Marina. She lives in Bogota with her mother and one of her daughters. She comes to our place once a week to help clean and straighten our apartment. She is a wonderful, hard-working woman. Liz and I have really enjoyed our time with her. We just wanted you to meet one of our Colombian friends.

And the Heavens Opened Wide

So I am on my way home. I am walking down the mountain enjoying my iPod and looking around. I am listening to the British band, Delirious, when a car pulls up behind me. I notice it is a colleague offering me a ride home. I graciously decline, because I am enjoying the day. I continue walking when a song begins and I start singing along, "...Rain down on me." Next thing I know I feel a drop and then two and then three drops of rain hit my head. No problem. I pull out my compact size umbrella and keep moving.

It wasn't a minute later and hail was coming down. This was one of those "Texas-sized" storms where they come quick, drown the sewer system, and flood the streets. My little umbrella went down like a light weight at an all you can eat catfish buffet. So I have a choice. Hide under a tree until the rain stops (which could be a minute or a day later) or catch a cab to take me the two kilometers home. Nice try, there is never a cab available during a rainstorm in Bogota. So, I choose to walk home. The walk home is all down hill and the river is flowing with me. All I needed was an inner tube and some sunscreen. My shoes were soaked, pants started to stick, and my umbrella, whimpering, wanted to hide under my coat.

Cars go by and I get soaked, and I know that I saw a five year-old imp laughing at me from inside a little French car. Cars were honking and swerving away from and towards me. "Look at that gigantic gringo swimming," was what they were thinking. But that is okay. God takes care of my needs. 1) He sent a car to take me home moments before the rain started, but I declined the favor. 2) He heard my song of rain to come down on me and He obliged. He is funny. I see the irony.

I finally got home and the doorman laughed. I made it to my apartment and our maid treated me like a wet dog. I was wet, but I got into the shower to warm up. My clothes were hang drying and my shoes are going to spend the weekend in the guest shower. It was a good day to start the Holiday Season in Bogota.

P.S. The picture doesn't do this adventure justice.