My mother rescued an old container from oblivion. I saw it on the living room floor while she organized things from the kitchen. It's beige, with a Coca-Cola sign on one side and a Burger King sign on the other. Burger King no longer exists in Colombia; I used to go there with my mother when I was a little child. The container was used to carry peto (a typical Colombian sweet soup) which we bought in Anolaima, the town where our farm is.
When I was a little kid I'd climb into my paternal grandfather's Nissan Patrol and fool around with my uncles while travelling to Anolaima. We went there often. I remember Anolaima as a cloudy town with loads of fog, but many years later the weather changed, and it was quite sunny. You could look at two more towns from our farm. There were oranges and guavas and raspberries growing over there; I loved raspberries.
The peto from Anolaima was exquisite! There were two things we'd never miss on our trips there: pan de maíz (corn bread) in Zipacón and peto in the Anolaima market. You could get lost in the market... so many stands with vegetables and cheap things... But we never bought anything other than peto and fritanga (a compound of fried food; not a pleasant view yet tasty).
I haven't been in Anolaima for a long time. My grandfather sold the Nissan Patrol and got a Mitsubishi. I grew a nose and outgrew my clothes. The raspberry tree was eaten away by weeds. Oranges fall off from the trees, waiting to be eaten by the worms. Childhood is gone and long forgotten in a sea of stupid adult fantasies until it suddenly comes back in a Burger King/Coca-Cola container.
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