These are just thoughts on our goodbye celebration/get together for Pimouz, Avi and Emilia Patricia. They fly out tomorrow night from Bogota and head north to New York on a red eye flight to JFK before crossing the globe (presumably over the Arctic) to Hong Kong and then Malaysia. The trip will be a long one. On the other end they will find a new home (already worked out at Impiana, where we currently reside - what luck!) and make a new life. But before they go it is customary to have a final goodbye. And so they did.
The 11 hour day was filled with events, from watching the Colombian national soccer team compete (and win) versus Bolivia for the Copa America, to setting up a tent outside, to coffee and tea and cake. In there, somewhere, was a visit by a musical trio playing and singing songs from 'la epoca romantica'. It was an interesting cross-section of generations, culture and family and, with it, the responses were different indeed. Irini slept quietly on Laurence's lap, where she had been before the onslaught of the family and visiting players. Amalia roamed around, sometimes stopping to see people and sometimes walking up the singers themselves and working on her dancing moves, adorable as usual.
The rest of the gang, all 27 of them, were perhaps more accustomed to such music, from a by-gone era but none-the-less powerful. Natalia, who had begun to videotape the singers, had to stop halfway through the first song, tears streaking down her cheeks. The lyrics of the song (about life and one's children) and the memories were too much to bear, and so technological memory making took a back seat to mental memory making. Real life took over. Her father sat in the corner, tears welling up in his eyes, filled with a nostalgia that seemed almost palpable. Later on Natalia would walk over and hold his hand for a long while, standing by his side, their hands held at his shoulder, before heading off to chase Amalia around the house and garden. In front of them, Pimouz sat with two friends of his. He had just received some gifts a while earlier and they were playing with the cars on the table, somewhat oblivious to the emotion that was welling up behind them. Emilia sat, absorbed by the songs and invited Pimouz to sing along. He did't. She did. To her side was Emilia Patricia, who held Avi on her lap for a long while before Avi stood up and moved to her father, on the other side of the room. She then sat in his lap and they hugged for what seemed like an eternity. It was the kind of hug that said 'I love you' in so many ways. It was the kind of hug that carries with it a plethora of thoughts, and emotions and stories better left unspoken. Further back Carolina and Javi, the newlyweds, looked into each others eyes and kissed, sharing with it a smile filled with promises and companionship. The rest of the group sat and watched, respectfully, some listening to the lyrics, others singing along, others still chatting during parts. Every once in a while someone would speak too loud, or whisper a joke to a neighbor and the rest of the group would try, tactfully, to persuade them that this is no time for such behavior. Some would smile a playful smile. Others would give a knowing glare, silently, allowing the music to continue its journey to peoples ears and minds and souls.
It was the kind of event that shows the similarities and differences in family. The older generations, for whom the songs have more meaning, singing and involving themselves in the emotion, working on memories that the song represented: Long car rides to tropical desitnations, radio programs from yesteryear, parties and record players. The younger generation went along their way aware of the music, but not quite as immersed in its presence. Observing, respectful, but without the baggage of history, memories or meaning. The children sometimes paid attention, and sometimes moved on. Irini slept.
It was the kind of event that brings generations together. Three generations in one room. Music that talks of relationships and love and going away and returning, mirroring the lives of those in attendance. It was the kind of event that speaks volumes of the Colombian and family traditions. It was the kind of event that brought context to content and meant something to everyone. It was a moment of powerful discourse without as much as a word being said in public.
Tomorrow, Emilia Patricia, Avi and Pimouz will get on a plane. They will fly towards dreams and bright futures in Malaysia. They will become part of a larger world that awaits them. It is exciting, scary and promising. The children in particular will travel so much further than they ever have before. They will be challenged and they will love it. The orient awaits.
Tomorrow begins their journey toward what Laurence, Natalia, Irini and Amalia already know in many ways. But in doing so - in getting on that plane - they also give up a little of their own culture, of their family, of themselves. The chatter in Spanish. The soccer games. The vallenatos and the arepas. They will need to take those things with them in different form and hold on tight. The ropes that bind them are no longer in place through and around them. Now they must make their own. The tears, the lyrics, the memories, they need to be brought with them in whatever form they must so that they can ensure that they continue to be part of this loving family and this warm and wonderful culture. It is the price of dreams and new beginnings.
We wish them a wonderful chapter in Malaysia and hope that they hold on to their Colombia as well. The world is big enough for everyone. As we like to say, love knows no boundaries.
