The Colombia es Pasión campaign strikes a very personal chord with me.


Let's back up and recap a conversation I've had to stomach way too many times:




Ignoramus: So, what's your background?


Me: I'm half Colombian and half German.


Ignoramus: Columbian?


Me: Um, my mom's from ColOmbia, and the rest of her family is still there.


Ignoramus: Oh yeah? Do they sell drugs? Lots of… cocaine, eh?

[insert ignoramus laughter here]


Me: Ha. Yeah. I've never heard that one before. (Idiot.)


Ignoramus: But really, have you been there?


Me: Yeah (--and don't think I'm going to tell you about my wildly successful Colombian family business because you'll just make a joke about how they're a big coke-carting cartel mafia family with long hair and gold chains. Idiot.)

Ignoramus: So do you do lots of cocaine when you're there?

[insert more I'm-oh-so-clever laughter here]


Me: Oh. My. God. Shut. Up.



This is where the conversation usually ends—or they continue with, 'I hear they have hot women.'
Then I'm left feeling all frustrated, confused and guilty. Guilty because I was brought up being allowed to become Americanized, responding to my mom in English, refusing to take Spanish IV in high school because 'I already know it.' When I open my mouth the few times I'm forced to speak Spanish, I instantly become your typical gringa. My Spanish output is wildly out of practice, although the input is like I was raised there. ::sigh::


I get Colombian jokes. I just can't tell them. I'm awful.


I'm a passable half-breed, and it never really bothered me until recently. I never had to have culture if I didn't want it—born and raised in the U.S.—thousands of miles from my Colombian family, thousands of miles from the other half that still speak German. Passable for 'white American.' What culture, right? Our American culture is rooted in consumerism, capitalism, imperialism and that oh-so-scary whiteness, so who cares if they think my relatives sell coke, right?


But the truth is, I always care. It's things like that that set my mouth into a grim line, that leave me feeling wildly alienated from both parties. Do you know how offended my family would be if they knew how many times I'd received that comment here 'in the states'? Shit, they'd be wildly offended if they knew I smoked weed in high school.


Why do a few have to ruin it for everybody?


But then… this morning, I realized that I really do have some culture… because I actually felt something. Something deep-rooted that I didn't even know was there.


I came across a video, Colombia es Pasión, that my cousin Tatiana posted on her Facebook (yes, they have computers. And cell phones, and video games, and McDonald's, and ::gasp:: hot water).


Apparently Colombia has taken on an image campaign to brand itself with empowering, beautiful, healthy images to try and take the world's focus off of the drug-exporting industry (which--if you haven't noticed--America is great at funding).


Colombia es Pasión supports the beauty of Colombia, the complexity of the people, the 'passion' of this particular culture as independent from the 11 other countries in South America.

Although I'm usually quick to cull the many evils of branding, here's a great one.


Okay, enough ranting. You get the point. Here is the video, narrated by a little girl that sounds just like one of my cousins, that made swell up with some kind of deep-rooted emotion that I don't usually feel.
I usually don't know where it is. I'm an American, right? I'm supposed to be numb to culture. But this video helped me realize that I'm not. My Abuelito would be proud. ;)


This is Colombia, a small part of it.







And beams of pride come gushing out of my face! This is so refreshing… I've never been big on cultural pride, nationalism or social activism even, because I try to think bigger than selective groups of people. But I have to admit… something inside me feels something for Colombia.


And I can't wait to go back! It's been too long since I've had obleas con arequípe.





Who woulda thought? Lisa is proud to be a Colombian! Yipee!


I mean… Weeeee-pa!





Okay, back to work. Thanks for watching guys, it means a lot.


Oh, and P.S. – Shakira was cool before she came here and went blonde. Thank you.