Silver
That’s what it looked like outside the window of Flight 522
to Tarija on Friday, October 21st.
It had been drizzly and overcast and hot when we left Santa Cruz. Yet in moments, after takeoff, we broke
through the clouds. Our cabin was
flooded with silver light. Outside the clouds sparkled silver in the late
afternoon sun in the sky over Bolivia.
Just before we landed, the clouds broke up over some
mountains. Below me I saw lumps of
freshly baked chocolate brownies, smothered in marshmallow paste. The clouds were caught in pockets in the
Andean Mountains. At the western edge of
the world, a golden necklace graced the darkening sky, as the sun setover
Bolivia. I was overwhelmed by the
richness of the afternoon sky.
Over the next few hours, I would experience that beauty of
the people of Tarija. One sign welcomed
me to Tarija, the city of the smile.
The man who sat next to me on the plane walked me to the taxi line. He was
from Santa Cruz, but wanted to make sure that me, the foreigner, was not
cheated, but got the Bolivian rate. I
had nothing to fear; my taxi driver was a man who wanted me to enjoy my stay in
Tarija. He directed me to take the wine
tour the next day, which I did. Several
of my Bolivian friends had said the same thing.
Since I was in wine country, I would most definitely look into the wine
tour.
At the hotel, I was again bombarded with the friendliness
that Tarija is known for. The young man
at the front desk, did everything he could to make sure everything was perfect
for me. He is one of those that the
phrase, head-over-heals, works well. I
don’t know his name and regret that; but he didn’t work Sunday when I left, so
I never learned it. This young man made
sure my TV worked well, even though I said I didn’t plan on watching TV. He made sure my room was just right and that
I had enough towels. He gave me directions to a good restaurant, in which I
ended up eating three of my six meals in Tarija. When I came back from eating, he made
reservations for me to be a part of the wine tour the next morning.
The restaurant he sent me to was beautiful. It was like something from a forgotten
past. Dignified. Like an old-world club of gentlemen. And they were playing Christian music. What could be better?
The burst of silver was just the beginning. The next two days would teach me a lot about
this place. Tarija is a shining smile of
sliver in people whose hearts are of pure gold.
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