Day Eight: Culture and Questions

We promise to share Colombia's culture with our son, but the question is how?

On the day before our Gotcah Day, we spent the majority of the day catching up with Claudia's college friend Lliana and her family. We went to a Construction and Home Design Fair, which was at Corferia Exposition Center.

Claudia spent a lot of time talking with Lliana's mother Miriam about our big day. Lliana's brother Ricardo let us borrow a small camera, since mine is a little too large and showy to be flaunting around the streets of Bogota.

After the fair we stopped by La Campina, a local ice cream shop. While we enjoyed ice cream and cake, Claudia spotted a 7-year-old selling trash bags on the street.

It's common to see desperately poor or disabled people either selling random items like telephone chargers, candies, flowers, etc. or walking between cars at intersections asking for charity. Life in Bogota is separated by two worlds: the haves and the have-nots.

Before settling down at the apartment there was still enough daylight for a walk around the neighborhood. While walking, we asked ourselves if we were prepared for Gotcha day. We passed by a man riding a bicycle & cart who was returning home from a day selling his food on the street. On top of his cart were two children about five and seven years old. Several taxi cabs zipped past the man and his children.

Before we knew it, we were walking in Santa Fe Mall.

We went to the third floor where the food court is located. We went outside on a patio and looked at the Autopista (a busy road that connects most of Bogota from north to sout). Five or six taxis, buses and motorcycles passed by. A taxi peeled off the road and stopped to pick up a passenger before jumping back into the trafifc. People walked along the sidewalk. Numerous vendors were selling their merchandise on the street.

"I love the activity of the big city. There is so much going on at any given location. It's similar to walking around the streets of Chicago," I said. "What do you miss about living here?"

"My friends," responds Claudia.

"That's all," I ask.

"Yes," she confirms.

Life in Bogota is hard for the majority of people. The street child selling trash bags and the man riding his bicycle & cart with children are obvious reminders hard to ignore.

We can celebrate holidays and cook food from Colombia, but we can't transplant the smells, noises or people in Bogota to Nashville.

"Our son is going to have a very different life," I commented and Claudia agreed.

We finished the day packing our bags for our week stay at La Lanthana. One of the last things we did was write down a list of questions to ask the social worker about our son's life and medical history. The list was important because we wouldn't have another opportunity to get information about his past.