I, on the other hand, am in a finca in Santa Fe Antioquia, Colombia, a charming colonial town established by Spaniards too long ago for anyone to relate to. I'm the odd man out in a group of four Western Canadians that, true to their 
caricature, say, "eh?" at the end of most sentences. They are old friends of 20+ years, and are having a great time with each other. Most of their conversations are about mutual associations and experiences, and inside jokes, which I am not a part of. They do treat me well, and are as hospitable as they can be toward an American that crashed their party.
We are on a five day tour of paragliding sites within a three hour auto radius of Medellin, and I must say, the flying has been interesting and spectacular. Some observations and thoughts:
-I've experienced what it is like to be in the air in a gust front of a thunderstorm, trying to land. Thankfully, all turned out safe and sound, using a cool head and some luck.
-I'm learning, or relearning, the pricncilples of patience, and focus, as conditions in the air change and I am forced to adapt and make the correct decisions to remain safe.
-The Colombian people are generous and kind. Today, I sank out half way to the landing zone and had to make an unexpected landing on a steep semi-forested mountainside. A local flyer saw me, and voluntarily landed on top of the ridge above to tell me there was a launch just up the hill from me that would allow me a second flight to town, rather than a long walk down the mountain.
-Colombia, because of it's drug history, gets a bad rap. This country has treated be well, and is beautiful.
-Although I do miss my home and my loving family, I am thrilled to be here, and I feel alive and exhilarated.
The first photo is by me in flight. Spectacular waterfalls, eh? The second is from launch overlooking the town of Cocorna, with a soccer field the landing zone.
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