As A Little Girl Growing Up In Colombia — |verified|

To grow up as a girl in Colombia is to inherit a legacy of warmth. She carries with her the alegría (joy) of her people, the rhythm of her ancestors, and the deep-rooted

If there is one rule for a little girl in Colombia, it is that affection is not optional—it is the currency of existence. From the moment she wakes up, she is immersed in a culture of physical touch.

However, my experiences abroad only made me appreciate more the country and culture that I came from. I realized that growing up in Colombia had given me a unique perspective on life, and that my childhood had shaped me into a strong, resilient, and curious person.

Attending Sunday Mass followed by a massive, slow-paced family lunch with heavy as a little girl growing up in colombia

Family is the cornerstone of Colombian culture, and for a little girl, this often means a large, extended network. Growing up, the house is rarely quiet. It is filled with the laughter of cousins, the wisdom of abuelos (grandparents), and the constant presence of aunts and uncles.

my social currency was fín —a slang word for a favor or an errand. I was constantly being sent to la tienda de la esquina to buy a single egg, or a packet of refresco powder, or a cigarrillo suelto for my uncle. “ Hija, hágame el favor y lleva esta carta a la casa de la señora Rosa. ”

The day often starts early, with the smell of arepas (corn cakes) or calentado (leftover rice and beans with eggs) for breakfast. Lunch ( el almuerzo ) is the main meal, typically eaten at home with family around midday. A common plate includes beans, rice, plantains, meat or chicken, and soup. Afternoon onces (a light snack, similar to tea time) is a social ritual, often with hot chocolate and bread or cheese. To grow up as a girl in Colombia

Play reflects Colombia’s diverse geography and urban-rural divide:

Our house in a small pueblo outside Bogotá had no central heating. It didn’t need it. The cold came straight from the páramo , biting my ears as I walked to school in a navy blue skirt and wool tights. But the cold was a friend. It meant my mother would make chocolate santafereño —thick, with cheese melted at the bottom of the mug and a chunk of almojábana floating like a treasure.

Early mornings do not begin with the harsh buzz of an alarm clock. Instead, they begin with the call of street vendors shouting "¡Mazamorra!" or "¡Aguacate maduro!" down the cobblestone streets or high-rise avenues. From a young age, a girl learns to distinguish the rhythm of salsa, vallenato, and cumbia drifting from a neighbor’s open window. Music is not background noise; it is the heartbeat of the home. However, my experiences abroad only made me appreciate

Because I learned that the world is dangerous. But I also learned that I am tougher.

Sharing is a central tenant of life. Whether it is sharing a snack with a friend or lending a hand to a neighbor, the spirit of generosity is instilled early. The Rhythm of Everyday Life

The phrase carries a profound weight. It represents a childhood lived at a vibrant, sensory-rich crossroads of magic, resilience, community, and culture. To grow up female in Colombia is to be immersed in a world where the landscapes are as dramatic as the history, and where the daily rhythm of life is scored by music, fueled by coffee, and bound by unbreakable family ties.

Sunday was sancocho day. The three-legged pot was the size of a baby’s bathtub. As the women of the family gathered to peel yuca and plátano verde , the gossip flowed. I learned about who was getting married, who had moved to Miami, and who had died, all while scraping the black skin off a tuber. It was here that I learned the rhythm of the picapica chili and the sacred rule that you never, ever, tell the cook her food needs salt.

The backyard held a guayabo (guava) tree that sagged under the weight of fruit. My cousins and I would climb it to spy on the neighbor’s rooster, whispering about which one of us would move to “the city” first. We believed Medellín was a fairy tale kingdom and Cartagena was underwater. We weren’t far off.