Why I Live Here: Bogota, Colombia

Love brought me to Bogota.  

My boyfriend, a Bogotano, and I met in New York while we were both in graduate school. Vio and I lived together there for about five years. In the summer of 2001, we quit our jobs to make the trip of a lifetime, going overland from Istanbul to Beijing. The adventure changed our lives. After that, and how 9/11 seemed to change everything, we didn’t want to live in the United States. We decided to move to Vio’s hometown.

We arrived in Bogota in 2002.

Growing up in the States, I had always assumed that Latin America was pretty much all Third World, except for maybe Argentina. But when I arrived in Bogota, I was surprised at the level of sophistication in this sprawling metropolis. Yes, much of Bogota is poverty-ridden, though the poverty rate has declined dramatically over the past five years. But Bogota has some astoundingly beautiful and ritzy neighborhoods. Members of the growing monied class are delivered to their country clubs, elegant shopping malls, and fancy restaurants in chauffeured SUVs.

While most people who live here probably see an urban cityscape of brick high-rises when they look out their windows, Vio and I have the luxury of admiring our garden with its giant papayuela tree. And just across the way, a new hotel is going up, a sign of the booming economy.

People assume Bogota is dangerous, but the city is safer than Washington DC. Like any metropolis of seven million people, crime is not unheard of, but I don’t worry too much about getting mugged. For me, the hardest part of life here is trying to blend in. I want to be considered a local, not a visitor. I don’t like being pegged as a “gringo.” I especially don’t like the assumption that I can’t speak Spanish. I can! Honest! Though I may have an accent, it’s an ever-so-slight accent.

I love the predictably unpredictable weather. It’s sunny; it’s warm; it’s rainy; it’s cold—all in the course of a few hours. I enjoy the cultural offerings around town, including a world-class theater festival every two years and a thriving art scene. And I love the Ciclovia. Every Sunday, they close off city streets to cars so a million or more people can take over the pavement on bikes, skates, or on foot.

Though there are some pricy restaurants, money goes a long way here.