Rainbows

My funny Thai friend Bua had never heard that gold lay at the edge of a rainbow but thought that the idea of it was pretty hilarious--perhaps it is simply one of those western-world myths that nobody really understands. Yet whether that Irish leprechaun legend has any truth to it or not (though in Colombia, were it true, that pot of gold would have been snatched up by hungry herds at the very first mention of it), we experienced a rainbow legend of our own on our last day at the Tecnologica. It always seems that the symbolism in life presents itself in mysterious but perfect ways, and this was no exception.

As we scrambled around the four floors of our building, taking our photo with our friends, students, co-workers, and selves, we ended up going up to the opened-air fifth floor, the unroofed place above our office where only the broken chairs, crippled desks, and morning sunlight touches. We wanted to take in the view as only eyes can and cameras cannot. And as we stepped into the sun of the early morning, Bua grabbed my shoulder and pointed to the horizon of our view: Kristin, she said, do you see? I turned and I saw: a perfectly arched rainbow, brilliant and arching over the skies of the Tecnologica in natural harmony with the gathering clouds. It stretched in a row of seven perfect colors, bright, radiant, festive, and quiet. The colors were not only the most inspiring I have ever seen, but the arch, so perfect, so aligned with our University, so still in the morning sunlight on that quiet patio, with just Bua and I watching, was one of those moments in life, when everything feels right, together, and blended as nature once intended. The stillness in the air was only broken by our footsteps and my unexpected tears as we watched the horizon, the whole of Cartagena, of our city, from above.

The rainbow was gone by the time we found someone to share it with.

Was it some kind of smile, a start-to-finish metaphor, an arc of triumph, telling us that everything always works out as it should? That we took a chance, endured life in an entirely new way, and lived to tell beautiful stories about it? A simple way of our environment quietly reflecting on human life? That perfect rainbows can happen, anytime, anywhere, after the rains? That the horrendous Colombian winter rains were finally losing their grip on Cartagena, that the people would soon be emerging, ready and excited for Christmas, to welcome a sunny and springtime December?

I still find it odd that Bua and I were the only ones who saw that rainbow over the Tecnologica that day. The rainbow after the storm, the hope after the despair, the calm after the chaos, the farewell of Cartagena, the end and the beginning....