A roar overwhelmed the entire group, we looked at each other confused, scared, but no one dared to decide not to enter, the guide looked at us and, raising his voice, invited us to continue; the place was picturesque, innovative; the ruins of a house in the colony that had been intervened to unite the present with the past of the city of Bogotá. We were all stunned, my thoughts were scattered between fear and astonishment; The background music brightened the atmosphere, every corner brought us back to reality, to the present, we were in Colombia, Bogotá, on a Walking tour; while another explosion took us back to our deepest terror; We imagined all the bad things we had heard about Colombia; my body wanted to run away, my mind was wondering   —¿Why had this guide brought us here; so that?— Before my head continued to immerse me in that labyrinth of questions; The guide invited us down the hallway to the back of the place, we climbed some steps that led to the patio, after passing through several rooms; The thunder became louder as we passed each step until we reached the patio; but also the music of instruments that was heard made us foresee a kind of celebration; a small man with beer in hand was the first to greet us and said: 

—¡The gringos have arrived! 

The people who saw us arrive; They invited us to participate without a second thought, the guide placed us at a table, two boys and I approached the crowd. The same man who welcomed us with beer in hand, a little drunk, introduced us to the group: 

—¿where they visit us from? — asked the drunk— 

—fromLondon; and they are from france, —I answered him— 

He gave us each a beer and let’s play. While a woman hunched over while balancing a small metal disc in her right hand, to throw it from a distance of about 7 meters; our host explained the rules to us in detail, in English that was increasingly fluent due to the effect of the alcohol; With calculated force, the young woman released the metal yew, which flew directly until it landed on a clay plate, with a metal ring; where the gunpowder charges rested and exploded when hit by the disc. 

—You are the next Englishman; — the little guy told me— 

Everyone applauded and said: 

—¡mecha, mecha! 

I took a drink of beer, grabbed one of the largest discs, approached the throwing track, took a breath and asked: 

—¿what is this game called? 

—the Colombian national sport; ¡It’s called tejo! —they responded in chorus— 

—¡Now an Englishman will be the king of the Tejo! —I answered them— 

I took the proper position that I copied from the Colombians while I was there; I asked them to clap faster and faster while I shook the metal piece. When I felt the right moment, focused on the pink paper that was resting on the ring in the clay box that was in front of me, I threw it; It was all in slow motion; The rest of my group were attentive, when it crashed a fire was released, followed by a giant roar that along with the shout of: 

—¡moñona carajo! —that the locals released— 

They were heard throughout the place, the travelers who were next to the guide jumped with excitement, relaxed by the beer and the company of the hosts began to enjoy the walking tour in Bogotá.  

By. Fredy Calderon