That Shirt is a Funny Colour...

We are learning about personal pronouns in Grade 2. I write a sentence on the board, underline the subject, and my students must tell me which personal pronoun I could use to replace it. We've been practicing all week, and they are quite good at it now. They are not as good at identifying swear words, it turns out, something I learned when I turned around in class today and noticed that I had written on the board:

Juan Sebastian is wearing a yellow shit.

Not one of my students picked up on the naughty word, however they were quick to point out that Juan Sebastian's shirt was not yellow, it was in fact blue with white stripes.  I don't know where my mind was at the moment of writing, but immediately afterwards it was focused on not laughing, as this would have demanded an explanation which obviously I could not give. A little giggle may have escaped. That's it though. Teehee.

Buga

After Christmas, I returned to Colombia like a child on her way back to class after a gratuitous bathroom-break...My body, obedient and obligated, returned directly.  My mind, however, took the longest route, reluctant, dallying at the water fountain, walking zig-zags down the corridor. I've been here, but not here.

Something clicked at last though, and I have landed once again. And just in time, because this past weekend could not have been fully appreciated in a semi-absent mental state. I was fortunate enough to be invited to visit the city of Buga, in the Valle del Cauca.

Buga is famous for its basilica, The Basilica del Senor de los Milagros. The story of El Senor sounds a bit like a fairy tale involving a washing-woman and an expanding statue of christ, ultimately leading to the 'deal' currently offered at the home of the Senor: promises for miracles. As in, you promise something, and in return the Senor will do his best to provide you with the miracle of your request.

Basilica del Senor de los Milagros

Hmmm...what miracle should I ask for?

The Office of Masses and Promises - there is good business in miracles, it would seem...

Like every city in this part of the world, Buga has a central square or plaza. This is not only a good place to eat snow-cones and people-watch, but turned out to be a good site for watching animals as well.

  

Clearly not concerned about people

The plaza was interesting, as was the tour of the city generously and lovingly provided by one of our hostesses, however Buga would have been a completely amazing experience even if we'd lever left the house. The entrance, seen below, is unimposing but the home hiding behind that big white wall felt like a combination hotel/museum/garden...

Getting directions before venturing out into the city

Upon entering the house, you meet the front courtyard

Another view of the front courtyard

there were antiques throughout the house

the rear courtyard

another view of the rear courtyard

A sitting area, and behind, the "living room"

one of the 14 bedrooms

the dining room, in the oldest part of the house

The rear block of the house, bedrooms and bathrooms.

The best part of the stay though, was meeting our hostesses. The three sisters living here, cousins of a friend's grandmother, are some of the most interesting and inspirational people I have ever met. If I have half of their energy and passion for life when I am their age (in their 70s and maybe 80's?), I will consider myself quite fortunate. (Though frankly it's not looking all that hopeful when you consider the fact that I was the youngest person there, yet drank the least and wanted to go to bed the earliest...Perhaps my vitality will manifest in other ways?)

It was one of those times when you feel as though you should stop periodically and just contemplate how lucky you are, and maybe send some out some thank you vibes, not only to your hostesses, but also to the universe.