La Buenanoche, Medellin

"Another? You're kidding." Jen commented as she noticed the five crystal shot glasses once again full of aguardiente on her grandmother's coffee table. She looked accusingly at tavis, Me, then Cameron. "Don't look at me, it was your uncle." Jen's tio abuelo chuckled, kicked back the shot, and wiped his grey mustache clean. Over 70, this man had fallen asleep in his chair after dinner, but had come back with a silent fervor, refilling our shot glasses as soon as they were empty, then waiting patiently until we noticed. "Arriba, abajo, al centro, al dentro." We finished the bottle amid a a torrent of fireworks and presents just after midnight. Christmas day was sleepy and slow, with children playing in the streets, outdoor barbeques, sunglasses, and remnants scattered from the night before (including those who never made it to bed). Christmas eve in Columbia was reminiscent of my idea of new years eve, but that party is yet to come.