Embracing my inner-gringa
saying yes to unexpected friendships
Growing up, I got a lot of drug jokes any time my Colombian origins came up in conversation. It still happens. But it happens less and less. Its kind of like people finally learning that it’s not okay to say “that’s retarded” or “that’s so gay.” Please, never say those things. And please, don’t mention Pablo Escobar the second somebody tells you that they’re Colombian. It’s exhausting to have a complex mulitcultural nationality be boiled down to one infamous drug lord. Thanks alot, Netflix.
Since graduating from college 6 years ago, I’ve noticed a signficant shift in people’s reactions when I bring up Colombia. Rather than reverting to bad and offensive cocaine jokes, people have started saying positive things like “I hear it’s beautiful” or “I really want to go!”
Well, it turns out that gringos, Americans and Europeans alike ,are not only visiting Colombia. Since moving to Bogotá in August, I’ve met droves of European and a handful of American expats, many of whom initially came to Colombia as visitors and decided to stay. They loved this place so much and saw so much potential in it that they stayed. It blew my mind the first time I heard this narrative but now I’ve heard it so many times that its lost its shock factor. People love it here because they like to be kept on their toes. Because natural beauty abounds. Because Colombians are kind and beautiful. Because people with saved up US dollars, Euros or British Pounds can typically live a pretty cushy life here.
What is a gringo/a?
Time for a vocab lesson on the word gringo/a. Urban legend says that the word came into use during the Mexican-American War, when people yelled “green, go!” at invading American troops. Whatever the etymology, it has come to refer to foreigners in Latin America, especially American foreigners. Up until recently, I actually thought it was exclusively used in reference to American foreigners, but I have since realized that people here tend to clump all foreigners of European descent into the same category. Whether British, French, American, or Australian, you’re a gringo.
One afternoon in late August, I went to Arbol del Pan, a hip, French-style bakery and café that offers the kind of free wifi laptop culture that I’ve come to love from my years of living in Boston. It’s the kind of place where you can order a pricy latte and a delicious pastry and stay for hours while enjoying the natural light streaming in from the courtyard.
While working on my then frustrating job hunt, I started to feel self-aware and self-conscious of the environment that I had chosen to put myself in. Here I was at a European-style café offering an American-style laptop culture surrounded by other Americans and Europeans. There were some Colombians there, for sure, but they were having work meetings or grabbing a quick pastry before continuing on with their days. It was the foreigners who replicated American café culture by staying for long stretches of time. Should I feel guilty about doing this too? Is it bad of me to seek out places and experiences that remind me of the US when I’m supposedly in Colombia to reconnect with my Colombian roots? I’m still grappling with these questions.
The girl sitting next to me had light eyes and freckles and was giving off some firendly expat vibes, but I didn’t start up a conversation. About an hour later, another girl joined her and the two started jabbering away in fast, British English. I obviously couldn’t help but eavsdrop a bit — my curiosity tends to get the best of me in these types of situations. Despite the significant number of foreigners living in Bogotá, I am still somehow surprised every time I see them or hear them speak. I want to know — why are you here? It turns out that these 2 particular women were a teacher and a journalist. One was from the London area and the other from Glasgow. I gathered this all from eavsdropping, until I finally decided to jump into the conversation when I heard them mention a part-time English teaching gig.
All I had to do was chime in in English and, low and behold, I had made 2 new friends.
They happily passed along their information and recommended me to the cultural center where they were leading English convesation workshops and where I now do the same. They invited me out with them a few days later, happy to take me in and share their Bogotá knowledge with me (they have been living here for a year and a half and 10 months, respectively).
“I didn’t come here to be friends with Anglophones!,” I thought to myself. Why would I initentionally take this easier path that would pull me away from my goals of cultural immersion and reconnection?
Despite these initial doubts, I decided to give them a chance, to at least meet up with them once to see if I even enjoyed their company. What I found was an unexpected opportunity for cultural exchange, friendship, and personal growth.
Both women had studies Spanish and Latin American studies and had been living between Mexico, Spain, and Colombia since graduating from college, or as they would say, “uni.” One has a Colombian boyfriend and the other has chosen to stay in Colombia with her British Council fellowship for a second year. She’s invested in the country and the culture. Unsurpsingly, they both speak excellent Spanish. In fact, I’m almost positive that their grammatical, written, and read Spanish is much stronger than mine — all I have on them is my accent.
So, having come to this realization, I let myself settle into friendship. Friendship with a Londoner and a Scot in Bogotá — who knew? Through them, I met yet another Brit — who similarly, studied Spanish and lived in Medellín. This third Brit introduced me to her Colombian roommate, a guy who understands my American references and subtle jabs because he went to college in Kentucky, of all places. And all this because of my propensity for eavsdropping.
While sitting at that café, eavsdropping on that English conversation, I could’ve let my pride win. I could’ve decided that no, I was not in Bogotá to connect with English speakers. I could’ve decided that it wasn’t even worth asking them about their English teaching gig — why bother? Instead, I swallowed my pride and just. talked. to. them. In this case, I had no idea what it would lead to but thanfully, it has led to a part-time job, new friendships, and new networks in the city. It’s a US/UK cultural exchange, sure, but beyond that, it’s an exchange of Bogotá know-how and my wonky Colombian-gringa know-how.
I’ve changed my mindset when it comes to meeting other Anglophones and foreigners. There’s always so much to learn from others, beyond language. I’ve also come to accept that I need to be kind to myself, and sometimes 3 hours in a hip Bogotá coffee shop on my laptop is my version of self-care. I shouldn’t feel ashamed of my obvious American cultural background, nor should I try to reject it while I’m in Colombia. It helps me connect to a broader spectrum of people: British, Scottish, and Colombian.
