Pondering Aging as I Sit in A Colombian Coffee Shop
As I ordered a hot chocolate with leche deslactosada (lactose-free milk) at the local bakery.
As I sat down, a few looks from the locals drifted my way. This is not uncommon, as I am an outsider. When you stray off the usual route that most tourists take, you will stick out like a sore thumb, no matter how hard you try to blend it.
I, however, do not try to blend in.
I act as if I belong.
Instead, I act like I belong, and no one questions or bothers me. I pulled out a book one of my YouTube subscribers gave me, and she was right: I like it.
I sat and waited for my hot chocolate since I am still not a coffee drinker. Why drink coffee when I can have chocolate?
I tried some black coffee last week when I was on a farm with my friends, and nope, no way, no how. I finished the cup and didn’t sleep that night, so no, thank you.
An Aromatica or chocolate is my new go-to hot morning drink, preferably with no sugar.
As I sat and read my book, a few more looks came my way.
Complaints of others.
Many travelers complain about being stared at in a foreign country; it doesn’t phase me; a few say good morning. I am sure they are curious about how I ended up in their small town, which only has two or three hotels.
My room is 35k pesos per night, which is about 8.50, private room and bathroom. When I checked in before I paid, the lady told me there was a group of students there, and it would be loud.
She said this because this hotel has a rating of 6.8, and she most likely does not want the ¨gringa¨ leaving a bad review.
Accepting the price and value.
I will not; it is precisely what I expected for the price I paid.
I will leave them a 10 to hopefully boost their ratings. Honesty, I like the loudness of the headphones I have. Also, they are all talking in very rapid Spanish, so I am not distracted by their conversations.
Yet, as I sat in the coffee shop, I appreciated that I had finally entered a climate where I could wear a dress.
My hat was forgotten, and when I got home, I worried I might have gotten too much sun, even though I had applied a ton of sunscreen. I think that is part of getting older.
I usually wear a hat everywhere; the locals wear long sleeves, an umbrella, and a hat. No one wants the sun on their faces; mine is for my vanity of wrinkle prevention.
I want to delay the inevitable aging of my skin for as long as possible, but as I am an outdoors person, I will eventually accept the consequences of being blessed to age.
The thoughts of aging increase as my birthday approaches, even though I do not celebrate as I do not believe in age or time. I will be here for as long as I am meant to be, a pre-determined choice.
Sometimes, I wonder about those who die young.
They will be forever young in our memories. It’s a bit morbid, but I often think of my parents as young and never aged, preserved in time in my memories as young and vibrant — no signs of slowing down until they did.
I am living, and with living comes growing mind, body, and spirit. An old sage looks old and wise because they have lived a long life. Yet I am not sure I am ready for that; I first have to have my house deep in the woods and scare little children who come near.
I’m kidding; I would never do that, but I have always loved the riddles about witches living deep in the woods; it has always brought curiosity to me about who they are and what magic they can perform.
My tarot confirmed I need to go deep within, which comes as the years pass. A desire for more, but why? Who knows? The more I think I know, the more I realize how little I know.
I have not been writing; the thoughts in my head are running laps around my brain. They come out in a jumble, such as untangling tubing after a patient is received in the ICU from the ER, a.k .a. a MESS!
I will think clearly once they are labeled and placed in their appropriate spot.
Is there a point?
Is there ever, besides breathing in and out, proving that we are still alive and an asteroid has not yet destroyed us? We survived the Taurid Meteor shower once again.
I am in Moniquirá, Colombia, headed toward Antioquia for the holidays. I spent the past week on a farm, and those stories are sitting in a draft as I slowly get back into the practice of my daily online diary.
XOXO
Sara, more about me here.
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