Salsa & Beer

by Fema Jacob (Canada)

A leap into the unknown Colombia

Now, I’m not the kind of person that impulsively buys a ticket from my hometown, Toronto, to what was once well renown as the murder capital of the world, Medellin. I graduated teacher’s college earlier this year and would be marrying my college sweetheart, Steve next summer. Steve was perfect, tall, blue eyed type-A personality. “Yo soy Sara” – I am Sara and I live a picture-perfect life, or so I portrayed myself as living, to my Spanish class of six including our teacher Pedro. I came to Colombia to have one last and quite frankly, first, adventure of my own, before I signed my freedom away to live happily ever after with Steve. My class included, Yasemin a curly hair brunette, with olive skin, from Turkey, Chad and Liz were avid hikers from British Colombia, and Tania a self-proclaimed, black feminist from Colorada. They were all, like me, in their twenties, including Pedro. Pedro was very slender, dark skinned, curly haired with dimples. On our last day of class, Pedro sent us to the market, Plaza Minorista Jose Maria Villa, to work on our final assignment, which was to find, taste, and buy local fruit – mangostina, lulo, pitahaya, etc. The indoor market was vibrant with various meat, seafood, and fruit vendors. I found a juice stand that served the local favourite, guanabana. It tasted sour yet creamy which was just what I needed to cool down from the afternoon heat. “Hey Sara”, Pedro called from the corner of my view. “Ven aqui” he called out to me. As I moved into his direction the sweet and salty scent of Colombian arepas perfumed the air. “I want you to try this, it’s my favourite”, he said as he handed me an arepa de choclo. Pedro’s smile lit up as he saw the absolute satisfaction in my face as I attempted to graciously chomp down on the cheesy, buttery, corn cakes. It was simply marvelous! Pedro then asked if I would be interested in accompanying him to some salsa and cerveza (beer) in the evening. I didn’t drink beer, but…I said I’d be delighted. That evening, after having two bottles of Pilsan, the local’s favourite beer, Pedro showed me how to dance salsa. He held my waist and helped me circle my hips to the intoxicating rhythms. At first I felt scattered, but he fixed his eyes on mine and somehow my feet and body came together. We danced until one am and then spent another two hours talking in a corner seat. Pedro told me he was a civil engineer but quit to pursue his passion in teaching and entrepreneurship. He planned to start a franchise restaurant across various cities in South America. Pedro was the opposite of Steve. He was impetuous, quirky, and passionate about his work and life itself. He reminded me of my idealistic ways back when I was doing my undergraduate degree. A part of me felt like his presence was inviting me back into embracing the youthful part of me that was filled with dreams and a zeal for life before I began to live practically and according to the social expectations of the people in the world around me. At the end of our night, we said our goodbyes. The next morning, upon arrival at the airport, I got my boarding pass and walked towards the departure gates. As I contemplated how beautiful Medellin was, surrounded by breathtaking mountains, colourful comunas, and a seductive nightlife, I heard a familiar voice call me, “Sara!”. I turned around; it was Pedro running towards me. “Is this a coincidence”, I asked. “I actually just wanted to see you one last time to say goodbye” he replied. “Is that how you treat all your students”, I teased. “No” he replied soft but firmly. An awkward silence ensued between us as he gazed into my eyes. I felt a pang in my heart, a sharp pain, as I thought of how I’d never see him again. He leaned in and gave me a hug goodbye. “Goodbye Sara” he said. I said goodbye back, as I walked away…to Pedro, Medellin, to salsa, and beer.