As A Little Girl Growing Up In Colombia

Childhood in Colombia is filled with specific sensory experiences and games:

I was standing in front of a mirror in my cousin’s apartment in Medellín. She was doing my makeup—eyeliner sharp as a razor, lipstick the color of a wounded fruit.

In the cities, life is vibrant and communal. You grow up playing juegos de calle (street games) like rayuela (hopscotch) or jumping rope with the neighborhood children until the streetlights flicker on. There is a sense of "it takes a village" in Colombia; your neighbors aren't just people next door—they are tíos and tías (uncles and aunts) who keep an eye on you as you navigate the world. The Magic of Celebration

This is the ultimate rite of passage marking the transition from childhood to womanhood. Traditionally, this is the milestone where a girl is "officially" permitted to wear high heels and makeup. Families often throw massive parties where the girl wears a grand ballgown, dances a waltz with her father, and receives a symbolic change of shoes from flats to heels. First Communion:

Should we focus more on the of the food and landscape, or as a little girl growing up in colombia

Colombia, in those days, was not the Colombia of the news. It was the Colombia of the arepa still warm in my palm. The Colombia of the aguardiente hangover that made my tío laugh until he choked. The Colombia of the hummingbird that built a nest in the bougainvillea outside my window, no bigger than my fist.

It was a childhood of : the jagged peaks of the Andes against the softness of a crumbled buñuelo, and the knowledge that even if the world outside was complicated, the kitchen was always safe, always warm, and always smelled like home.

when addressing parents, grandparents, and elders as a sign of deep respect. 🎉 2. Major Life Milestones The Quinceañera (15th Birthday):

Growing up as a little girl in Colombia is a formative experience that instills a deep love for culture, family, and community—a foundation that shapes a vibrant, resilient, and loving perspective on the world. If you’d like to explore this topic further, I can share: Specific played in Colombian neighborhoods. Childhood in Colombia is filled with specific sensory

To grow up in Colombia is to have one of the world’s most biodiverse landscapes as your personal playground. Depending on where you are raised, your childhood memories are shaped by vastly different, yet equally enchanting, natural wonders.

Now, when I walk through the sterile, air-conditioned aisles of a grocery store in a cold country, I close my eyes and listen for the hum of the chicharra (cicada). I smell for the rain hitting hot pavement. I look for the little girl with the crooked braids and the scabbed knees, running through the barrio with a bomba de agua (water balloon) in her hand, laughing in the face of a world that never quite understood her magic.

In the mountainous coffee axis ( Eje Cafetero ), life is defined by rolling green hills, the towering wax palms of the Cocora Valley, and the sweet scent of coffee blossoms. In the vibrant coastal cities like Cartagena or Santa Marta, childhood smells like sea salt and fried fish, and your weekends are spent building sandcastles under the shade of coconut palms. Even in bustling urban centers like Bogotá or Medellín, nature is never far away. The weekend ritual of ciclovía —where major city streets are closed to cars and opened entirely to cyclists, skaters, and runners—allows children to claim the city as their own safe, active space. Festivals, Costumes, and Dance

: Author Elena Garcés analyzes the patriarchal structures of Colombian society through the life stories of 18 women from various socioeconomic backgrounds. You grow up playing juegos de calle (street

Life begins early in a Colombian household. As a little girl, your alarm clock isn't a digital beep; it is the melodic call of the vendedor de aguacates (avocado seller) echoing through the street and the high-pitched whistle of the tinto (black coffee) pot.

To grow up as a girl in Colombia is to be surrounded by a powerful matrix of women. While Colombian society historically carries a thread of machismo, the domestic and emotional heart of the home is fiercely matriarchal. Grandmothers (abuelas) are the revered pillars of the family, holding the secrets to both traditional recipes and ancestral remedies.

Sundays are sacred. They are reserved for large, boisterous family gatherings centered around long tables filled with traditional food, such as a hearty sancocho (a thick, comforting meat and vegetable stew) or bandeja paisa . These gatherings are filled with lively conversations, laughter, and often, impromptu music and dancing.

At seven, I discovered the second altitude: the social one.