Another Part of the World
As I walked up to the front desk of my hostel in Cartagena, Colombia I was greeted with a massive smile from one of the clerks, Augusto. My first impression of him: kind, goofy, unorthodox. He vibrated with such good energy it was practically palpable. He had welcomed me, a very weary traveler, with giggles and towels for my stay. He pulled smiles from me that I barely thought I had the energy for.
Augusto was from Argentina; head shaved, ears pierced, body decorated with brilliant tattoos — he had the type of outward appearance that my dad would profile and tell me to stay away from. Superficial aspects aside, he was one of the kindest people I came across in Colombia. Our chemistry was instant. From simple reciprocated smiles to little goofy moments, it was clear our vibes were complimentary. Our connection initially felt platonic, lukewarm, but with the playful potential of something more.
We all tend to have our laundry list of things we’d like in a partner, Augusto was quite the opposite of my list. It was a reminder to myself that connections can be built on more than what is seen and stratified. He was a musician, he gave me hipster vibes, and his calm laissez-faire attitude made little room for ambition. He had this rough external appearance that balanced the contrast of the gentler human I came to briefly know.
We shared very few interactions outside of the customary conversation we had when we initially met. Although I was too busy rubbing the left breast of the Reclining Fat Lady for luck, we were able to build a light foundation of familiarity over the days I was there.
In the mornings when I had my arepas con quesitos in the adjacent café, he was there. In the evening when I’d return from a long day of wandering the cobbled streets and rustic cathedrals of Cartagena, he was there (he was the front desk clerk after all). Our interactions were polite, playful, and as we exchanged pleasantries and revealed bits of ourselves, whatever existed between us seemed to simmer.
The morning of my last day I told him goodbye, anticipating I wouldn’t see him again. He reached for a hug and my body hummed under his arms. It was as if electricity buzzed between us. Frazzled, my mind tried to figure out whether I was the only one who’d experienced what romantics (aka me) love to call “sparks”. He smiled, I smiled, and without any of our usual banter we looked into each other’s eyes for a little longer than usual and that was it.
Adios Augusto.
I mentally kicked myself. Crystal you should’ve explored this more, I thought to myself. As I walked to a restaurant to grab a final plate of mojarra frita, I was riddled with questions. Was he interested? Was I interested? I know I wanted a little more of him. I wanted to dive into his mind and explore our dynamic for just a little while longer. I became as curious as a moth near a light. I had been there for only four days and I had been caught in the whirlwind that was the walled city. Since I was too busy dancing in the dens of Cartagena’s finest discotheques, I had failed to investigate the Augusto-Crystal arc. What was between us? Was it imagined?
I accepted the unanswered questions and went about my business on my last evening as I prepared to leave the country with a slew of spectacular memories in tow. As I hurried to my hostel late that night to pick up my luggage, he was there.
There he was. My little mystery. In a rush I looked at him and instead of asking a question, I kissed him.
I wanted the answer to the questions I left on his lips. I’d hoped to certify our connection was real and reciprocated. I had no time to establish how deep our connection was, what it was and what it could mean, but perhaps that’s the beauty of these things; it just was. I’d been served an appetizer of him; I’d sampled his intellect, his emotion, his humor, his perspectives and his physical touch. The opportunity to dive deeper into each area existed but we were out of time and I was unsure where he stood and how feasible that dive would be.
I pulled away from the kiss and caught a smile on his face as I turned away. I left Colombia without another word to him.
Days later he found me on Facebook and sent a message that confirmed our strange but amazing emotional alignment. The message ended with, “Te esperare en otra parte del mundo.”
Translation, I’ll wait for you in another part of the world.