As A Little Girl Growing Up In Colombia 'link' -

One of my favorite childhood memories was spending Sundays with my abuela (grandmother) in the town of Guatapé, a picturesque village nestled in the mountains. She would make the most delicious arepas, empanadas, and tamales, which I would devour in seconds. We'd spend hours playing games, listening to traditional Colombian music, and dancing to the rhythm of vallenato and cumbia.

This public link is valid for 7 days and shares a thread, including any personal information you added. This link or copies made by others cannot be deleted. If you share with third parties, their policies apply. Can’t copy the link right now. Try again later.

Childhood for many Colombian girls centers on the domestic sphere, where multigenerational living is common. Matriarchal Influence

, life was a vibrant tapestry woven with lush landscapes, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee, and an unwavering rhythm of family and community. Colombia—the gateway to South America and one of the most biodiverse countries on the planet—offers an enchanting backdrop for childhood. For many young girls, these early years are defined by the warmth of familismo , where extended relatives, neighbors, and community bonds play an integral part in everyday life. as a little girl growing up in colombia

The novena (Christmas prayer ritual) in December was a nine-day marathon of overeating, natilla (custard), and buñuelos (cheese fritters). We would kneel on hard wooden floors, pray to the Baby Jesus for ten minutes, and then party for three hours. It was a theology of compensation: a little suffering earns a lot of joy.

The colegio (school) is primarily public and often underfunded, yet it is a sanctuary.

Growing up in Colombia was an incredible experience that shaped me into the person I am today. The warmth and hospitality of my people, the richness of our culture, and the beauty of our landscapes have left an indelible mark on my heart. I feel grateful to have grown up in such a wonderful country, and I hope to share these experiences with others, inspiring them to explore and appreciate the beauty of Colombia. One of my favorite childhood memories was spending

This public link is valid for 7 days and shares a thread, including any personal information you added. This link or copies made by others cannot be deleted. If you share with third parties, their policies apply. Can’t copy the link right now. Try again later.

Outside, the street vendors provide a daily soundtrack. You quickly learn to recognize the specific calls of the man selling aguacates (avocados) from a wooden cart, or the cheer of the mazamorra vendor. Tropical fruits like lulo , maracuyá (passionfruit), and guanábana are staples of your diet, eaten fresh or blended into juices so thick they feel like a treat. The Sanctuary of Family and Community

In the United States, or Europe, or wherever the diaspora took my friends, people would ask: "So, is it true about Pablo Escobar?" Or they would say: "Oh, I love the coffee!" Or worse: "You don't have an accent." This public link is valid for 7 days

From these women, a young girl learns the art of hospitality. She watches how easily her mother stretches a meal for four into a meal for ten when unexpected guests arrive. She learns that family extends far beyond bloodlines; neighbors become tíos and best friends become sisters. The Contrast of Magic Realism and Harsh Realities

Decades later, when I close my eyes, the scent of wet clay and overripe guavas still transports me instantly to the dirt path leading to my grandmother’s farm in the Andes foothills. To understand what it means to become a woman in a country as lush and treacherous as a thorned rose, you must first forget everything you think you know about Colombia. You must listen to the silence between the salsa beats.

Your weekends are spent running through emerald-green hills, playing hide-and-seek among towering wax palms, and watching hummingbirds dart between exotic orchids.

We learned to code-switch. At school, we recited poems about the national bird, the Cóndor . At home, we listened to the adults speak in clave (code) about "las cosas del país" (the things of the country). We learned the sound of a motorcycle (bad) versus the sound of an ice cream cart (good). We learned that a smile was both a greeting and a shield.

Growing up as a girl in is a journey shaped by deep-rooted family traditions, a vibrant culture of celebration, and a resilient spirit often called "realismo mágico"