There is a pattern that plays out in my mind whenever I leave a new city or country that I am visiting. As I am preparing to leave my mind offers observations such as, “this time tomorrow I will be back in Los Angeles,” or “this will be the last morning I hear the church bells of Candelaria.” I think I started this quasi-game of sorts as a child when travel seemed the only permanent fixture in my life. Tonight I depart Bogota and return to Los Angeles. There are many things which I am already missing, the most prominent of which will be the people.

I am jotting down these few words as I get ready for my final performances here in Colombia at a school this morning. This won’t be a long blog as many others because I feel like I’ve said most of what I’ve wanted to say.

Last night a group of teens took me out to dinner and made some very convincing arguments as to why I should return to Colombia, and often. Who knew teens could be so savvy? I could not help but to listen with  the deepest, most intense level of humility. I don’t ever recall teenagers sitting me down and delivering cogent arguments as to my responsibility to them and their younger peers. My heart was touched in a way that is difficult to detail to you. I listened to these young men speak of the depth of my craft and the need for more profound exchanges between myself and other Colombians. Teens? Yes, teens.

I sat at a table dining with them feeling as though I were breaking bread with my peers. That is such an odd thing for a man who has children much older then them and is, in fact, a grandfather.

When we parted ways last night I was left with so many things to contemplate. I guess those young men still have me thinking into the next day as I write these few words.

I’ve got to get to this school and not be late so I’m going to end here. My words written in previous Bogota Blogs, I think, will suffice to let anyone know how I’ve felt about this trip.

I’m going to miss you Colombia.

Chau…

I’m back in Bogota! The rain last night delayed some of the services at the airport and so I got home really late. I woke up this morning thinking about a friend I made at Colegio Jefferson in Cali. Her name is Claudia and she is such a beautiful person. Claudia is the woman I wrote about previously who invited Pablo (my tour manager) and I to her home to meet her husband and children. She had not been feeling so well recently and I was a little concerned about her. On the day we were scheduled to return to Bogota, she sent me an email saying that she wanted to meet one last time before I left. She said that she had something she wanted to share with me.

We scheduled time to meet between check-out and the time we would take the taxi to the airport. Claudia met Pablo and I in the lobby of our hotel and she was as radiant as ever. Do you know people who, with ease and grace, simply exude inner beauty? She is one of those people.

After hugs all around the three of us sat down and Claudia pulled a strange looking fruit from her bag. She called it a “Zapote.” Claudia has been, somewhat, Colombia’s ambassador of goodwill and fruit tasting for Pablo and I while we were in Cali. I have to tell you all something. I have traveled to the far ends of this earth and Colombia has got to have more fruit than any other place on the planet. Every time I turn around I am trying a different fruit. With motherly patience, she taught me how to peel the fruit and pull its meat apart from the core to eat.

I wish I could describe all the different tastes of all of the different fruits but I can’t. I have to honestly say that the blends, scents and textures of many of the fruits defy explanation. The beauty in this tasting was that this woman went out of her way to come to us and share something culturally that she felt we needed. How often does that happen? Experiences such as these, and they have been too numerous to chronicle each and every one, but experiences such as these have made this a cultural adventure.

The Zapote was extremely messy and colored my fingers a bright orange at the tips but I didn’t care. The child in me inadvertently took over as I found myself licking the remaining juices from my fingers. The adult in me caught myself doing but said, “Who cares! Enjoy!” Luckily I didn’t go as far as kicking my shoes off (another habit I acquired as a child when eating something really good). Oh! It is sort of funny because when I was at Jefferson Claudia gave Pablo and I an assortment of things to try one day and what did I do? Kicked my shoes off! I didn’t even realize it. I apologized and she let me know that, and this was so beautiful the way she put it, she said, “that puts you in closer contact with the earth.” Life can be poetry at times can’t it?

In recalling this moment earlier I just felt the need to share it with you.

I have always said that we living, breathing storytellers have an advantage over popular media in that we touch, see, embrace and hear our audiences. In all of the years I have been storytelling and playing my music professionally, I have gained friends (true friends) all over the world. I am in constant contact with people who I met more than 15, even 20 years ago.

The experience of sharing that single piece of exotic fruit was poetry physically manifested and an example of what relationships may be if we invest ourselves in them.

As I´m preparing to leave the beautiful city of Santiago de Cali, I´m feeling a bit sad. The schools, teachers, administrators and students really rolled out the red-carpet for me. At Jefferson I was challenged creatively to engage each and every grade level they had (K-11). It was difficult but I would do it all over again, the same way because it pushed me to my creative edge having to jump between developmental stages of children so quickly. At La Colina, the ladies would not stop feeding me. Every time I admitted that I had not tasted something, it magically appeared for me to sample it. I started eating upon my arrival at La Colina and then I did not stop until late in the afternoon because one of the teachers felt it was her duty to take me to a local spot and feed me some more. At Britanico the kids made me feel like a Rock-Star.

I took more pictures with students at Britanico than any other school I have visited here in Colombia. To add to the euphoria of appreciation that they blanketed me with, I also had a chance to dance with one of the students on stage, in front of the entire school. The young woman showed no fear and neither did I. It was beautiful!

My most memorable experience thus far has been meeting two young men at Britanico who cornered me during my meal and said they wanted to know everything! They wanted to know how I controlled the audience, where did I learn to tell stories like that, who taught me to play the instrument, where did I learn all of the stage techniques, etc.

My conversation with the two young men was inspirational for me because they were looking beyond the entertainment value of what they had just experienced. These two young men actually saw the depth and profundity of the craft and desired to know me. I love when this happens because it does not happen often enough. I spent my entire meal conversing with these two young men and only ended the conversation because I had to leave for the airport. I will definitely remember these two young men.

I´ve got to get to the airport there is a cab waiting outside my hotel at the moment, waiting me to type these last few words (quickly).

Chau!

Oops, one last thing! I would be remiss if I did not mention the following. I must must must must with all my heart and in deep sincerity thank the English Department at Colegio Britanico and their fearless leader, Tom, for an amazing dinner last night. Tom you and your staff definitely went above and way beyond the call of duty to make me feel welcomed here in Cali. I am more than appreciative of your hospitality, the wonderful conversations, encountering quick Irish wit, being seated next to the beautiful Linda and engaging others on a very intimate, spiritual and deeper level of understanding.

Ok, just thought I would throw that in. Taxi is still waiting! Chau!

No… really! Chau!

Today was a day of excess and indulging. I arrived really early at this morning’s school and was greeted by food and a drink called “Avena” (Oatmeal milk drink). The drink is quite refreshing but difficult to explain the taste and texture. Had I realized what an adventure down “Food Avenue” it was going to be I might have not eaten so much so early in the morning.

My first performance caused a bit of a scandal in the school as I asked one of the teachers, Marta, to marry me (in the context of the story of course). The scandal began when Marta returned to her classroom and her students began asking her if she were really going to marry me. I love how she handled it! She let the children know that today was going to be her last day and that she and I would be leaving for Africa immediately after school.

All day long children were running up to me begging me not to take their teacher. I had one little girl of about 8 years old who refused to believe in our little exercise in enchantment. The little girl, and this was so cute, the little girl came to me and challenged me to kiss her teacher, Marta on the lips in front of the whole school it our marriage was real.

How does one escape such a predicament? I explained to the young girl that I had too much respect for Marta to be kissing on her in front of the whole school. I further explained that it would be “highly” inappropriate. I was trying to plant some seeds and food for thought for when she hits the teen years.

Later, with the older children (16-18 years) I was approached by a young woman who demanded to know why I had learned Spanish. Her question seemed to be more of a statement as to “why anyone who didn’t have to learn to speak Spanish would learn.”

I let her know that North America borders a Spanish Speaking country and that below that country are millions upon millions of people who speak the Spanish language and that it only made since to me that learning the language would be beneficial to me. She responded with, “I Love your answer!”

After my first performance, there was food bought in for me. After my third performance, it was lunch time. When I completed the day one of the teachers took me to a local eatery to try a few small traditional dishes. Once we finished there we went to a grocery store where I ate one of the most decadent  mixtures ever concocted. It was called a “Salpicon” and it was a mixture of several fruits and ice at the bottom that caught the juices of the fruits. Each level of this drink/dish/slushy offered a new experience.

We made a list of all the things we ate today just to see what it would look like. Here’s the list: Avena, Chontaduro , Cholado, Champus, Aborrajado, Banuelo, Marranitas , Lulada, Pandebono…

The list is not complete because I was too ashamed to say what I ate during lunch. It was experimental. Let’s just say I won’t be eating it again.

The children and young adults of the school were so receptive and engaging that I almost forgot I was at a school. There is a farm on the campus! Yes a farm!

Ok, I know I’m rambling but I want to get some of this stuff out. Blogs don’t have to be perfect right?

Oh! Something I did not want to forget. This is an interesting side note about many schools here in Colombia. Many of the classrooms in the school only have 3 walls. Where there would be a fourth wall is open to nature. Imagine that! Year round your classroom is open to nature. I’ve asked before and I continue to get the same answer, which is, “It does not get cold here.” I was at one school when it began to rain. It was such a beautiful sight standing in 2^nd grade classroom while it was raining and the children were just busy doing their work. It was just another typical day for them, rain pouring only a few feet away from their desks.

Oh! There was one incident during one of my performances, it was actually after, where I challenged a young woman (about 16 or 17) to Salsa with me. She did not hesitate! She got out of here chair from the audience, walked up to me and began following my lead. It was awesome!!!!!

I have found that most women here are willing to dance at the drop of a hat, literally. I’m sure there are some who will not but I have not crossed paths with them.

Well I should be giving more details about the performances and the food but I’m tired. I’m going to bed. I’ll let you all know how the weekend goes here in the beautiful, tropical Cali Colombia.

Yesterday I visited a school here in Santiago de Cali that is about 50 years old. My first session was with 16 and 17 year olds. Mornings are usually a rough start for performers at most schools and I’m no exception. The first group, early in the morning is often still feeling the effects of “sleepy-head.”  The juniors and seniors were great. They bought in early and stayed with me throughout the entire session. I’ve chosen to go a different route than I had planned initially when thinking of visiting Colombia.

Initially I had planned on simply entertaining with stories, a little music and giving students here in Colombia an overview of what I do. After encountering the first few upper grade classes a few weeks ago, I decided to alter my approach. I found the youth, not only engaging, but extremely perceptive as well. I chose to blend an informative presentation about the depth of storytelling with a few interactive, entertaining tales.

I know when my audience is grasping the meaning of what I am attempting to convey. It is one of the underused principles of antiphony (call/response). Artists typically use antiphony as a tool for engaging. That is only one level of the it, another involves measuring the responses of your listeners. There are a ton of measurement tools I employ when performing but I think I’m digressing into workshop mode here. I apologize.

Anyway, I was able to delve into some very abstract concepts such as subliminal influence and targeted marketing. The response of the teens has been overwhelming. Not only are they able to assimilate the information, but they are contributing to the conversation as well. I am actually having meaningful dialogue with teens (something a number of highly-influential academics had deemed impossible). I love doing the impossible.

Oh, an aside…. Do you know that every school I have visited has its meals prepared onsite? The cooks are actually cooking. I know this might sound trivial to most of you but if you’ve visited many schools in the U.S. then you know why I’m bringing this issue up.  I don’t want anyone to think that we don’t have schools in the U.S. that prepare wonderful meals, that is not what I’m saying. Let me give you an example. I sat down at a table of the one of the schools and the headmaster’s wife came over and asked me if I was enjoying the food. It turned out that she and the children of the school maintain an actually garden on the campus. This is where the vegetables on my plate came from. She was proud to tell me that “no” pesticides were used. I found out that this practice is common in a number of schools here in Colombia.

Can you imagine if our children had to maintain gardens on their campuses? Wow! Just a thought but what educational value could digging one’s hands into the soil, measuring sun/water consumption, etc.? Hmmmm… just a thought.

I know I’m all over the place here but I thought I should write something. I didn’t want to get anymore emails asking, “Hey what’s going on, why haven’t you written anything in 2 days?”

Well, I’ve got a school to get to in about an hour. Our host has invited us to dinner this evening and I am really looking forward to it.

Oh! One more thing! I just remembered something. I keep having these amazing conversations with educators here. I should be blogging more about those interactions but there is so much going on that there are obviously going to be things I miss. Here’s an example: A week ago I met a colleague of Howard Gardner’s who sat in on my session with a group of teens and critiqued my presentation. It was awesome. Yesterday I conversed extensively with a teacher who has interests in Rudolph Steiner’s theories on education. Who knew? I come to Colombia and am inundated to wonderful, meaningful exchanges that feed me on so many levels.

I know, I know… all over the map I am but this is a blog not a dissertation. Right?

Hey! Alright… I’m not actually in Bogota now, I flew to Cali last night but I like the title of the running blog so I’m keeping it. I’ll be back in Bogota in another week anyway.

I had to get this written down though. My tour manager Pablo and I arrived last night in Cali and went straight to our hotel. Pablo is so cool he asked if I were hungry or needed anything before we got settled. I had a ton of preparation to do before my performance the next morning so he got the front desk to order “delivered meals” for us. I wanted to keep it simple so soup and maybe some juice would work fine.

Pablo juggled phone calls, paper work, food ordering and doing all he could to make me feel comfortable. I respect and appreciate people who go above and beyond the call of duty and so I try not to add to their stress by making unnecessary demands on their time.

So… our food arrives via delivery to the room of our hotel. We sit down to share our first meal together and I open my container of soup. “Ahhhhh,” I think to myself as I swirl my spoon around in the piping hot, tasting-smelling broth, “there are dumplings in this soup. What a pleasant surprise.”

Upon further inspection, actually trying to get one of them onto small spoon, I discover that what I thought were dumplings were actually little feet.

FEET! FEET? Yes, FEET!

There were two feet in my soup. Now I’ve heard of discovering foreign objects in soup, you know, flys, creepy crawlers, kitchen utensils, etc.

But FEET!

Pablo’s soup did not contain any feet. Why did mine? Well… apparently, and I’m still exploring the culture here, but apparently I was the “Lucky” one. “Chicken Feet” in soup is considered a delicacy for some people here in Colombia. Not “all” Colombians… some. I’ve had several of my new  found friends here in Colombia already write me and let me know that they, in no uncertain terms, “DO NOT EAT FEET.”

Well my adventures in Cali have started off on the right foot (I know… horrible but I couldn’t resist).

I’m off this morning to another school. I’ll keep updating this blog because there are so many interesting things happening that it would be a shame not to.

I’m getting ready to board a flight to go to the City of Santiago de Cali, which is approximately 300 km south-west of Bogota. I’ll be touring schools in that city for a week before returning back to Bogota to finish up with a final week of schools there.

I’ve been in Colombia for a little over two weeks now and my love for the land is continuing to grow exponentially. I don’t want anyone to think that I lack a grasp on reality or that I’m unable to discern the social/political issues that plague “all” societies. I am more than capable but, you see, I spend the majority of my time with the average man and woman, not politicians or captains of industry. I think the perceptions you gain from visiting other lands has a lot to do with what you bring with you, your mindset.

There is a story I love to tell that involves two men traveling towards each other’s respective locations of origin. The two men never meet but, somewhere in an oasis in the desert each encounters a wise old man whom they question as to the type of people they will encounter in the land that they are traveling to. One travel is bitter and filled with angst and says that the people he left behind were ignorant, liars and thieves of the worst kind. The other traveler’s disposition is much brighter and he is believes the people he left behind were the kindest, gentlest souls. The old man tells them, individually as they encounter him at separate times, that they will discover the same type of personalities in the land that they are traveling to. A bystander happened to overhear each of the conversations of the old man and the travelers and inquires why he would dispense such contradictory advice. The old man explains that every man encounters, no matter where he travels, the substance of his own heart.

I would like to think that my encounters with the people of Colombia that I’ve met have something to do with my respect and appreciation for the cultures of others. I would like to think that.

One of the huge contrasts that I can draw between my work here in Colombia and my work back in the U.S. is that; when I complete a performance or workshop in the U.S., that is it, it is ended. The participants usually have their own lives to return to and their own busyness that keeps them occupied. Here in Bogota, when I finish at a school or workshop, the participants desire to extend the relationship to one of greater depth. I am getting invitations to dinner from children’s parents, offers to hang out, as well as offers to be driven around Bogota and the outlying areas so that I may see more of the land and people. People offering to cook traditional meals and cab drivers buying me lunch have been a few encounters that I will not soon forget. Can you imagine a New York cabbie offering to buy you lunch in welcoming you to New York?

Let me get back to the issue of reality and perception. Have I encountered idiots? Yes! They are ubiquitous in this world and no one society or culture has cornered the market on having them. Let me ask you a question. If I cross the paths of two idiots out of one hundred people then why would I spend time writing to you all about the idiots?

I’m finishing up a wonderful piece of fruit called a “Granadilla” as I type this. Just the vast array of fruits alone was worth the trip. Colombia should be famous for it’s’ fruit more than anything else. Although I am missing being back home, I am savoring every second of this experience. I know that I will miss the people who’ve embraced me with open hearts and open minds.

Well, let me get to my flight. I appreciate the messages and feedback that I’m getting from some of you. It helps me feel still connected to home.

Adios mis amigos!