It seems every time I go on an adventure, someone feels the need to bless me. Perhaps they can sense some evil residing deep within.
Riding the cable car up to Arvi Parque, I was sharing the space with what seemed to be three generations of one Colombian family, all Paisas. Unable or unwilling to say my name, they stuck with “gringito”. At the end of the cable ride, before we said goodbye, the oldest woman there wanted to say a prayer/blessing on my behalf. It was quite nice, I assume, I didn’t recognise much Spanish beyond “Dios”. Then they left, and I had a blessed day.