Chapter 16: The Hospitality of Paul Vetter

February 1999

It was mid-afternoon when we arrived at Paul’s mission compound, located far out in farm country, down a dirt road on the side of a sloping hill. Either planted fields or forest surrounded it. The nearest village was a half hour away. Between high walls of stone, a large wooden gate hung at the front of the mission. A bell with a rope attached to it was off to the side. Lou got out, rang the bell a few times. A few minutes later, a voice in Spanish called from the other side, “Quienes?”

Lou answered back, “Malcolm Harris to see Paul Vetter, please!”

“Malcolm, you made it! Come on in!”

I got out greeting him. Half a minute later, the wooden gate began to swing open and Lou drove the car through, parking it at the front door to the main hall. I walked up to Paul, his arms wide open, to greet him. Paul was tall with light blond hair that was receding at an alarming rate, and pale blue eyes. He was thinner than I had seen him before. I wondered if it had something to do with living here. Paul dressed casually, wearing slacks, a short sleeve button shirt, and loafers upon his feet.

“Malcolm, my friend! I am so glad you made it. I thought you were going to fly in here. The airstrip is only a few miles in that direction,” he said, pointing his arm. Lou rolled his eyes skyward.

“That would have been nice to know,” I chuckled.

“You didn’t have any trouble with the roadblocks or searches, did you? See any rebels? Any National Police?” He gave me a bear hug and patted me on my back. “It is so good to see you again!”

He treated me as if I were a brother. We were brothers in Christ!

“I can honestly say we had no problems getting here at all, Paul. No rebels, no police, no roadblocks and none of those “searches” everyone keeps mentioning. The only thing that would have made the trip better was a smoother ride. We had no problems getting fuel either. I was worried that we might.” “Well, you’re here! Safe and sound! I am so glad to see you.

My, it has been a long time. Introduce me to your friends!”

“Well, this gentleman here is Lou Martinez. He is a detective with the Miami Dade County Sheriff’s office.”

Paul extended his hand to Lou, and Lou eagerly grasped it, grateful for Paul’s hospitality. “Muchas Gracias! Any friend of Malcolm is a friend of mine. Thank you for having us!” I supposed it was because it was the first time Lou felt safe since our arrival in Colombia.

“And any friend of his is a friend of mine as well!”

“Next, this beautiful senorita is Rosalva. She has a family who has a plantation just down the road from here. She has agreed to be our guide here, and we agreed to be her escort.” Paul extended his hand, and as she took it, Paul brought her hand up to his face and kissed her hand lightly. “I am pleased to meet the daughter of one of my neighbors. Who is your father, senorita?

“Ramon Gutierrez is my father, Senor Paul.”

“Oh, yes. I know that hacienda and your family. I haven’t seen you since you were young. Have you been away?”

“Yes, Senor Paul. I have been studying at the University in Bogotá for the last 3 years.”

“Thank you for coming with my friends. I appreciate your guiding them here. Thank you, Rosalva!”

She smiled, as her dark eyes twinkled. Rosalva enjoyed the formalities of introduction. She had not had the attention of real gentlemen in a long time. The students at the university were lacking in the traditional customs. Their parents had lived and died by them. All our conversations outside the subject of the altar and symbols thus far had only indicated how important her education had been to her, and how it would ultimately serve her.