Back into our (crazy) Colombian life

Case and I woke today at 9 a.m., when the phone rang. It was the guy who coordinates the taxis at the airport. He’d tracked down the taxi Casey left her glasses in, and wanted to give us the guy’s number. “Tips are voluntary,” he said, “but if you want to send something for me with the driver that would be fine.” Then our journalist friend texted to see if he could come by for breakfast instead of lunch, so we got some eggs cooking, and then chatted with him and his son about traveling to meet miners in Marmato later this week. We’re gonna go. It’s a community that’s being exploited by a Canadian company, and the subject of a documentary that’s debuting at Sundance this week. The taxi driver dropped off the glasses at lunchtime (we tipped him and sent a tip for the guy at the airport), and then I tried to call former guerrilla leader. He called back at 3 p.m. and said he’d be over between 4:30 and 5 p.m. At 4:15 we sat on our balcony and saw two policemen on a motorcycle approaching our apartment building. We figured that meant the guerrilla leader was on his way. We were right. We made him a cup of coffee and talked about societal transformation for an hour and a half. Then he left, saying he was going to the Capital next week. “To meet with the important people?” I asked. “Mmhmm,” he nodded. It’s 6 p.m. now. We’re gonna go to a yoga class and then come home and watch some episodes of The Office on Netflix.

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