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I spent   two monthes in Colombia, My forth trip and now four years thoughout south America.

Diana and I, a pretty high spirited mulatto girl just half my age and a whole lot wiser in the ways of the world, decide to take the bus up from Cartegena and into Medillin. A night trip it would be. Boarding the bus they searched us throroghly leaving no stone unturned.  We rode cozy tight against one another, the tropical coastal air coming through the window with a smell all it's own. Hot himid  slowly cooling as we rose  the hieghts of the Andes,and then  latter to drop down into Medellin. And what city it is my friends. Not a westerner to be seen. clean, modern, and well maintained.
 I now sit in a  little room dreaming about the the house I want to buy in Bogota. Thinking of things like to be caught in thunderstorm with Sandra Or perhaps sharing and ice cream with Deina,  her  little child sprould across us.
Into it we go, a tangle, clamitus heap of humanity they call Bogota, which must of the world fears, but yet draws me in. A place Beautiful dynamic and at rare molments dangerous.
Some men will tempt thier fate, they are caught in beauties gaze and she just won't let go. They can't be talked out of it, yet they will try! Logic will tell you that beauty can be cruel, it can lie, blind a man. But love has little to do with logic or so I'm told.  
I think I'll risk mine , throw caution to the wind for just one more day or year or more...