The One Time I (Briefly) Regretted Having Been Born In Colombia

First of all, this thought only crossed my mind for half a second. Therefore, don’t assume I’m a disgraceful little biyatch :) because I genuinely LOVED all that having been born and raised in Colombia’s granted me.

This is us before our citizenship ceremony in 2011!

But back to my crazy thought: It all started when my mom went back to Colombia in 2012 for the first time since we moved to the States in ’02. She had mixed feelings about her trip but still, there wasn’t anything that could sway me from wanting to visit.

Then in 2013 my favorite cousin got engaged and they invited us to his wedding this past December. (I first introduced him on this post where I discuss having all your shiz together before you get married–something he didn’t really do.)

Anyways, my mom, being his aunt by blood, felt like she needed to go. (I thought I wanted to go, but I couldn’t–and I didn’t feel bad about not being able to.) Part of me still thinks she felt like she had more of an obligation than a desire, which was apparent when she came back. In other words, aside from the two-hour gathering, the trip wasn’t all that memorable for many reasons.

While my dad doesn’t want to go to Colombia much at all, I still miss it. However, the distance has made the hearts of 98% of my relatives and friends grow the opposite of fonder, so I don’t care all that much about going to see them. (Their loss.)

LEFT: My 1st Communion in Bucaramanga, Colombia. RIGHT: A trip to Orlando (here in front of Universal Studios), AKA My 1st Communion present

But if there’s one person I’d LOVE to see in person is my grandma on my mom’s side. I mean, health-wise she’s more than perfect, thank God (so it’s not that urgent I go see her): She’s in her 80s, goes out, sees her friends, is super active, runs all her errands, and considers ME her favorite grandkid. (I’m serious!) She even taught me how to braid my Barbies’ hair (and therefore mine), get over a cold more quickly (just blow your nose really often), and tie my shoes. In short, I owe a third of my being and success to her. (The other two thirds belong to my parents, obvs.)

SO WHY DID I REGRET BEING BORN IN COLOMBIA?

As a side note: Not even racist jokes about Colombians make me regret my being from there. After all, I know 21 reasons Colombia is the happiest country in the world, so snarky, ignorant comments don’t faze me.

But you see, my grandma’s officially THE ONLY REASON I’d want to visit my native land. But actually hanging out with her would probably take a few hours (perhaps a half a day). Then if I want to meet with other friends and relatives (and even visit my old school!), that’ll all take another two days. So that’s, like, what, three days tops? (Oh, and add another two days to travel to and from.)

The fact that almost half our trip might go towards getting there and flying back home isn’t what bugs me.

Me as a gypsy in Bucaramanga, Colombia (AKA one of very few times I’ve been able to rock a midriff)

What really bugs me…

…Is the fact that I don’t have a Colombian passport because I keep postponing getting one! And getting one is as full of hassles as can be: For starters, I’d need to go to the Colombian Consulate in San Francisco again. (I already went to San Francisco once [on Valentine’s Day in 2012] to get my Colombian ID)

Why do I need a Colombian passport, you might ask?

Because I was born in Colombia!!! As you may or may not know, my parents and I became U.S. citizens in 2011, so our American passports state that we were born in Colombia (as it should).

BUT THAT LITTLE LINE’S GOING TO COST ME HUNDREDS OF DOLLARS (i.e., a trip to San Fran).

You know, foreigners from unrestricted countries (like the USA) only have to pay $33 to leave Colombia. But I’m not a foreigner; I was born there! (Which, except for the half second in which that thought roamed my mind, I’m damn proud of.)

Our Citizenship Packet!

So forgive me for wanting to (ask my dad to) pay $33 instead of ten times (give or take) that amount. That’s my crazy frugal brain at work.

I’m still thinking about traveling there later this year, though there are many things I have to consider first–the SF trip being one of them, of course.

I doubt any of you have ever wanted to renounce the countries you’re from (and I promise you I don’t!!), so instead of asking whether you can relate, feel free to share any CRAZY EXPERIENCES YOU have had lately–bonus points if they have to do with being cheapskates, thrifty, or otherwise bargain hunters!