I won't lie this is probably one of my most dreaded questions. Why? Well, more than likely it is because I am a Third Culture Kid. You see, unlike my husband who was born, raised, and still lives here in the State of Georgia, which makes this an easy question for him to answer, I on the other hand am not a native of any country. I've lived in many places, so this is a way more complex question for me to answer. Definitely, not a good question for superficial conversations or for quick 'polite greetings'.
I was born in
Bogota, Colombia as a citizen of the USA. I lived there until the impressionable age of 6 years old.
My memories of growing up there were mostly happy ones as a child.
I remember, the house we moved to right after I turned 3 years old. It was a big house with a small but beautiful practical backyard.
We had housekeepers that were influential in teaching me to speak Spanish fluently.
I had a great imagination from a very young age and when my cherished younger sister was old enough we use to play many dress-up and make-believe scenarios.
My dad loved Labrador Retrievers. I vaguely remember one-time his favorite black Labrador, Samba, jumped over the wall, escaped, and got pregnant by a stray male. I don't think my dad was very happy. The second time Samba had a litter of pure Labrador puppies. I absolutely loved the sights, smells, sounds, and opportunities to play with those puppies.
I also have fond memories of my mom's fish tank and when the goldfish would have babies. You could say I was a child madly in love with LIFE.
I remember my dad shooting off fireworks during New Year's Eve from our balcony that looked over Bogota.
I also have fond memories of my dad playing his classical music, from his spiffy stereo really really loudly. To this day, one of my absolute favorite classical songs is Bolero by Maurice Ravel - lol!
Most of my memories of my mom were all the time she spent in her art room painting or talking on the ham radio with my grandparents or other people.
Seward's Finca, Colombia
I do remember the family vacations we went on to different local Colombian farms. All the horses, sugar cane, swimming in the pool. Great fun!
The only really unhappy memories I can recall started not long after I had entered Kindergarten, which I really enjoyed. I remember one day being pulled out of that classroom and having to go to strange classes with desks where teachers taught subjects that I did not understand. My classmates laughed at me because I kept getting the answers wrong.
I found out years later that happened when my parents found out our family was being transferred and I would be entering a school system that was more advanced. They needed to bump me up two class levels, in hopes of better preparing me to be at the same academic level as my future classmates that were my age. I don't remember how long I was in those advanced classes before we actually moved, but I do remember that time being very confusing, scary, and terribly upsetting.
My perception of my parents during those years in Bogota was that they were contently married. Our family was engaged and we had a lot of fun together.
I honestly do not have memories of the actual transfer, but I will tell you more about that in the next part of my story...
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I pray you found what you were needing today. Please leave a comment below, I would love to hear how this post might have been helpful for you.
Remember you are not alone! No matter what you’ve done or failed to do you are still loved unconditionally by a very merciful and just Lord and Savior!
May God Bless You,
Leslie
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