I like the sound of the word Cali. Yesterday
walking down the streets I saw giant cats near a river, and open eyes in the trees. For the first time, I received a compliment on the street told by a woman. An old woman sitting on the floor, I said "nice skirt, and that has" eyes smiling tooth loss being an accomplice by his companion, literally, from floor. Colombia
is marked for me by the songs of my childhood. Every place reminds me of one, and several Cali. Pachanguero Cali, heard very little on the busy streets of San Martín de Porres, who somehow have a neighborhood life in a spirit similar to that meeting here and that are also characterized by a love of cachanga, such as business Pance riverside, which is sold in abundance, golden brown and crispy brown girls with plastic beads in her hair wet on the pole and small tits.
"The Cali are like flowers" is my favorite. I always liked the comparison "they move their hips as cañaveraaales" and I liked to imagine Cali women walking down the sidewalk, moving smoothly, with the sun burning, and these days my friends while in Lima use three sweaters, I here, I'm in sayonara eating strawberries with meringue and mango with salt and lemon, cease to be, of course, a Lima to look closely to their local counterparts, trying to discover if in the simple elegance giving hot climates, is the answer to whether it is true the phrase that strikes me about the song: "they never delivered his love, if not correspondiiidas.
Cali is Cali, the rest is a joke. A few days to prove it, but seeing girls combing her wet hair by the river and people dancing salsa while buying fruit sold in the market, when they hear a song to step in any street or while waiting to advance the traffic is a good indication that, at least in terms of synchronizing feet with hands on waist, yes.
