Part 1: Growing up in Colombia
Big parties, permed hair, and two liter Coca-Colas. I remember my family's ways of throwing parties. Aunt Rosie's house was the place to go, regardless of the occasion. She had a big yard with roses and berries, a huge kitchen with speckled marble countertops, hardwood floors, and some of the worst pumpkin concoction a three year old could swallow. I remember spending a lot of time there, but was never sure why. My mom was around for the big events, but there were days she was dearly missed; especially when Rosie would force me to eat that orange food, called "poteca" in Colombia, because it would "help you grow strong muscles." It looked like mashed potatoes, but was nowhere near it in flavor. Who knew that pumpkins originated in South America but eventually would be adopted worldwide and become an iconic symbol of Halloween in America.
Perhaps I didn't spend weeks on end at Rosie's house, but it sure felt like it. Maybe a few days here and there at most. I remember Rosie's daughter went with me to pick out my outfit for a Halloween costume competition: her son got a warm and cute bunny suit, while I got a too tight pandex bumble bee leotard and an antenna headpiece, but no wings. So from “potecas” to wingless-bumble bees, Halloween seemed to have a distasteful yellow-orange tinted taste in my mouth. The bee outfit made me feel ridiculous and cold, and my mother was not there to help say no to my cousin as she held back laughter while saying, "You look great. Alright now let's go."
Living in Bogotá, the nation's capital, had other adventures; less personal than wearing spandex but more abrasive and unpredictable. I would follow my mom from place to place, like a little chick following the cuddly hen. One afternoon we were at the bank ready to go out the door, when all of the sudden I heard a commotion—policemen with helmets holding tall plastic shields in one hand and black wooden sticks in the other. They shouted and pushed against a crowd of men. With bandanas covering half of their faces, they were throwing red bricks at the police. It was almost like a contest. It seemed like they were stealing the bricks off from the tall wall behind them to throw at the police.
