Colombia es Pasión!

I always wanted a sister. I love my brother Chris, but I've always wondered what it would be like to have a sister. I finally got my wish when I met my half-sister last week for the first time ever. I have to say, I was not disappointed. :)
I decided to make another quick trip to Cali to visit my birth family before leaving for the USA. My half brother's (Medardo's) birthday was a few weeks ago, my birth mother celebrated her birthday on the 28th, my niece (Daniela) is having her quinceañera (15th bday) on May 15th, and my birthday is on the 18th. I figured it'd be a nice present for all of us to be together. I had hoped to make the quinceañera, but I couldn't fit it into what will soon be a busy schedule. While I was nervous to meet back up with everyone, I wasn't nearly as shaken up as when I went to try to find my birth mom for the first time. The scary part is pretty much over; I was just worried about not being able to communicate well, but there was no problem with that as my Spanish has continually improved. I was also worried that I wouldn't get along with my sister. She had seemed nice on the phone, but I was scared of how she might view me.
I feel silly now for all the fear I had. While those feelings are definitely justified, I could definitely feel the similarities we had in our personality. Hanging out with the 2 brothers I had already met (Medardo and Jorge) and my sister (Consuelo) felt so comfortable. They're hilarious, passionate, and super nice, qualities that I hope people see in me. I had a smile on my face the entire time I was there. I can't speak to generally because perhaps my case is rare, but it seems to me that while there are quite a few cultural differences between us, our core personality traits are, in fact, very similar.
I've always wondered about nature versus nurture and how someone's personality traits are shaped throughout their life. I think I may be an example of how it's not one or the other that shapes a person's personality- it's a mixture of both. One thing that nurture definitely played a part in is my height. As you'll see in forthcoming pictures, I tower over my family. I accredit that to vitamins, having the 'luxury' of a daily dosage of calcium and eating healthy fruits and vegetables.
It would be interesting to read more on the subject of adopted siblings and how they compare in terms of personality traits. I would love to know just how much weight is placed on how one is raised in comparison to their genetic composition. I know I would have grown up in an extremely different environment if I was never adopted. My two family backgrounds (in terms of religion, education, political stance, income level, etc) differ greatly, but I still felt something inside that bonded me to my siblings, in particular. It's hard to explain, and I'll try to think of a better way to put it in the book, but I've never had a connection that was so strong to a stranger before.
I'm still trying to wrap my head around everything. Now that I'm moving back to the States, I'll have more time to really think about all my experiences in Colombia. I've got so many new relatives that I had to make up a cheat sheet just to get all the names and their relationships to me straight. As you know, I have 5 brothers and sisters who all have children, so that in itself is hard to remember. But, just last week I realized that I have 8 aunts and uncles who all have children, too...! I look forward to getting to know all of them one day.
Colombia has been an amazing adventure that I will spend a lifetime thinking about. I wouldn't change my time there for anything. I hope to go back soon because I left a big piece of myself there. My heart was heavy leaving Cartagena because I feel such a strong connection to Colombia. While there were a lot of cultural differences that were hard to get used to, I couldn't deny the feeling of being at "home" and being comfortable in my skin. The paths I followed while there just felt right. I finally followed the right path home and I can't wait to go back someday. Now I know how it feels when following my gut and how the path just opens up naturally when you're going in the right direction. I feel stronger, more confident, fufilled, beautiful, and amazing- like i've been walking on air for the past 7 months.

Colombia definitely es Pasión!!

Together Again

As soon as we heard that they had found my birth mom, I rushed to Raul's wife to thank and hug her for all her help. George, the taxi driver, had already started the car, and Monica and I hopped in before we realized we hadn't paid our internet bill. We jumped out to pay them the $3,000 COP ($1.50 US), which I don't think they were expecting, and piled back in the car. Raul and another man, who seemed to come out of nowhere, hopped on a motorcycle to lead us up the insanely steep hill to my mom. Within the first few minutes, their motorcycle stopped and Raul talked briefly to a woman who had been walking briskly down the hill in our direction. The motorcycle continued up the hill, but this lady waved us to stop. George, again, asked the question of the day, "Do you know Teodora Marin Cabezas?" And for the first time, we received a positive response. "Yeah, she lives up the street...but who's looking," she asked as she peered in our cab? She was holding a cell phone, and I had a strong feeling she had my birth mom on the phone at that moment. Monica was sitting in the seat nearest her, so she quickly replied, "a family member."


As we continued our ascent up the rocky, dirt road, my heart was racing, and I was trying every means possible to calm myself down. I fought the fear and I fought the urge to cry, but I welcomed the excitement. For those 5 minutes it took the climb the hill, our cab's wheels worked as hard as they could to grip the road below, and I worked as hard as I could to remember what I was going to say to her. It seemed as if everything I had thought of before had slipped out of my memory; I couldn't remember anything. I decided to focus on the first sentence I'd say to her and how to say it without crying.


The motorcycle finally parked on the curve of the road at what seemed to be the top of the hill. I looked out the window and saw a woman walking down stone stairs. Even though she was quite far away, I knew it was my birth mom. I didn't have a clear view of her face, but I could just sense it. I felt the tears pushing their hardest, trying to be set free, but I wouldn't let them out. I kept repeating the first sentence in my head, but it was getting harder and harder to concentrate.


Finally, my birth mom was right in front of me and without a second's delay, I blurted out (while crying-doh!), "Hi,myname'sAlicia,Iwasborn28yearsagoandwasadoptedfromanorphanagenamedChiquitines.IthinkI'myyourdaughter!" She looked at me with a bewildered expression, but placed her hand on my arm me as if trying to comfort a stranger. Soooo...didn't go quite the way I had imagined. Trying to stop from crying seemed impossible, so I turned to Monica, who only had a few tears in her eyes, for help. Monica asked her, "Did you give a child up for adoption 28 years ago?" Looking around at the people who were with me, she immediately replied, "Come up to my house so I can tell you my story, and you can tell me yours." Monica mumbled that maybe we had the wrong person, but I was certain that we didn't. My birth mom, Monica, and I walked up several stone steps, out of sight from the others, and she turned around and asked, "Now, tell me again what you said?" This time I was able to get it all out clearly. She hesitated, and Monica asked her again if she had given up a child 28 years ago. She finally nodded that yes, she had and turned to look me in the eyes. Then, as if it suddenly hit her, she grabbed me and hugged me saying something like, "Oh, my dear child..." I felt like I didn't want to let go. I really couldn't believe that I had finally found her. She asked me to come up to her house so she could explain her side of the story and tell me about my family.


My mom lives on a steep mountain-side in San Agustín, a neighborhood next to La Sirena. She owns a good chunk of land, but says her health has kept her from taking good care of it. I invited George to come up with us as I knew we might be there for awhile. George had to catch his breath from the walk up to her house. It's quite steep and my mom is 63, yet had no problem striding up the steps. She's living quite poorly, but is surrounded by beautiful scenery. Her yard is full of fruit trees and tropical and exotic plants. She has plátano, coffee, and guanábana trees (an exotic fruit- one of my personal favorites), and there were several chickens and two dogs around the side of her house. There are only three rooms- she has a large bedroom with two beds, a cozy kitchen, and a storage area along back of the house. My brother, apparently, built half of her house.

While filling me in on why she gave me up for adoption (will have to save most of these conversations for another blog...or maybe, the book??), she began telling me about the other children she already had at the time of my birth- my brothers and sisters. Turns out, I still have 5 half-brothers and sisters. Last year during my visit to the orphanage, the director had told my mom and I that as of 28 years ago, I had 5 half-brothers and sisters, but I didn't know if they were still alive. My birth mom confirmed that they were all alive. Three live in Cali (2 brothers and 1 sister), one sister lives in the Canary Islands, and my other brother lives in Tolima.

Within the first 10 minutes of being at my mom's place, my sister just happened to call from the Canary Islands. While on the phone, my mom interrupted her and said, "I have a huge surprise to tell you. Do you remember the daughter I told you about who i had to give up for adoption?" She broke down in tears and added, "Well, she's here at my side." I was able to talk to my sister for the first time and we were both so excited that we kept interrupting each other with questions. After I got off the phone with her, my mom pulled out a bunch photos of all my brothers and sisters. One of my sisters and I look a lot alike (see girl on left side of pic)- it's so crazy seeing people who have similar body types and facial features. I had a hard time focusing on everything that was being said because I felt like I was absorbing everything around me, so it was hard to keep up. I was super lucky to have George with us because he speaks English fluently. He was able to translate if I got lost, and trust me, it happened a lot.

About 30 minutes after being there, I heard children's voices coming from down the hill. I looked up to catch the eyes of a male version of me! It was my brother, Medardo, and his children. Turns out my sister from the Canary Islands had called all of my brothers and my sister and told them that I was at our mom's house. I had an instant connection with Medardo and he was all smiles my entire stay. He introduced me to his children and it quickly dawned on me that I'm an aunt!  ...To ELEVEN nephews and nieces! And you thought you had a lot of Christmas presents to buy! ha! ;) I'm the youngest of 6, and I make our family even- 3 boys and now 3 girls. Medardo is 40 now and was 12 years old when I was born. He remembers my mom being pregnant and has always held a little resentment toward her for giving me up (will talk more about this in another blog). Needless to say, he was extremely happy to see me last weekend and has called several times since I've left. His children are adorable and so beautiful.

A little while later, my youngest brother Jorge came to my mom's house with his son and daughters. He's taller, like me, but has a different father than the rest of our siblings. He and I may have the same father (again, will need to save details for another blog), but that's up for debate right now. Unfortunately, my mom could not give me much information on my father. I'm not sure how upset I am about that. From what I know, it seems that he left my mom after hearing she got pregnant in the first 3 months of their dating. I'm lucky to have a fantastic, loving dad already who has been there for me since day 1. Jorge and I also got along really well. His ex-girlfriend, believe it or not, was the one who heard the loudspeaker message in San Agustín and pointed us up the hill to my mom. There's a connection between my brothers and I that I can honestly say I've never felt before with a complete stranger. I can't wait to learn more about them and their girlfriends/wives. That night, even though I was feeling extremely sick, Monica and I went out to celebrate in Cali. I felt like I was walking on air.

The next day, we went to Medardo's house for lunch and I got to hang out with 5 of my nephews and nieces. I'll spare you the details on how I threw up over their balcony- I was pretty sick by then even though I worked as hard as I could to fight it. There, I also got to meet Medardo's wife and his youngest son who I hadn't met the day before. I really enjoyed getting to know a little bit about everyone and I can't wait for another family reunion! My oldest niece, Daniela, is turning 15 on May 13th, 5 days before my b-day, so I may try to come back to Cali for her quinceañera (we also look alike! hehe). 

My new family has welcomed me with open arms and hearts. Every one of them has called me since I left Cali last Monday...several times.  I've been so happy and stress-free since I found them. I can't wait to share more about my family, but I know the last few blogs have been extremely long. I'm seriously contemplating writing a book about this journey because one of my favorite things to do now is convince other adoptees to search for their families. I can't tell you how blessed I feel to have two loving families now. This may just be the beginning of what I see as a happy ending. :o) 
{Below, i've posted more pics from Cali of my brother's ex girlfriend who heard the loudspeaker message in San Agustín, my brothers Jorge and Medardo, Medardo's wife, and my new nieces and nephews. I also posted a pic of me at the ER just for fun- 1st IV I've ever had! wahoo...}

Toma Aliento (Deep Breath)

Things dont always turn out quite the way you expect. This past weekend may take awhile to retell, so please bear with me.

Friday, Monica and i arrived in Cali and did a little sight-seeing. I had felt a little sick on Wednesday night and was steadily getting worse so we couldn't do much. While we were heading to a Salsateca, I decided to ask our random taxi driver if he knew the neighborhood La Sirena and if he thought it was dangerous. He hesitated for a moment, glanced through his rearview mirror, and said "more or less¨ in a guarded manner. I laughed and said, ¨So, yes.¨ I had expected that answer as everyone had been saying the same thing. He then said there are guerillas in the area...now that got my attention. I immediately told Monica that she didn't need to go with me if she was scared. She laughed and told me she was more worried about me. She told me not to say a word while we were looking around the neighborhood so people wouldn't hear my accent. Fine by me!

Saturday morning, our faithful cab driver, George, took us into La Sirena. When I came to Cali the first time with my mom, we had the pleasure of meeting George through our hotel. He was so nice, helpful, and trustworthy that my mom suggested I call him and ask him to take us to La Sirena. This neighborhood really didn't look bad- it didn't seem any worse than neighborhoods I had been to around Cartagena.We drove in a bit up this rocky road and soon saw the street name that we were looking for. The only problem was that the street numbers were not matching up. Instead of the houses having two numbers -like i had for my birth mom's house (12-26), there was only one number. So, we started with number 26. Nope, they had never heard of her, but they told us to try number 12, which was around the circular block. We arived at a cute house and got the attention of an elderly woman living there. She said she had been the landlord at that house for 32 years and had never heard of a Teodora Marin Cabezas. I immediately thought of the letter i had sent and we asked if she had gotten any mail recently. She shook her head apologetically and said that there were addresses at the top of the hill that often get confused with her's.

Although we didn't quite understand what she meant, we drove further up the hill to ask a few more people if they knew my birth mom or any family members with the same last name. No, no, and no. One man said he knew of a family that ran a hair cuttery with the last name Cabezas. We drove to his address and asked if anyone knew a José Cabezas. The lively chatter at his shop stopped suddenly as if i had cut the salsa music playing in the background off. The man cutting hair asked, ¨who's looking?¨ George explained what we were doing and the same man replied that he was, in fact, José, but he had never heard of a Teodora Marin Cabezas. A few of these men suggested we ask the water control office since just about everyone in the neighborhood had running water and they'd probably have her address, but we soon learned it was closed for the day. While driving, George explained to us that many people in small neighborhoods like this one are terrified of guerillas and are hesitant to give their names or family's whereabouts to strangers.

Next, George stopped at an elderly person's home to ask the landowner there if he knew a Teodora. While he didn't, he suggested we ask a man named Raul. ¨Raul knows everything about La Sirena¨ he said, convincingly. Raul and his family are in charge of the cable for La Sirena. We stopped at Raul's house, which looked like an old plantation house surrounded by lush trees and plants and was significantly bigger and nicer than the other houses in the area, but his daughter told us that he wasn't home.

George asked me what I wanted to do. ¨Let's try the police station,¨ I shrugged. George warned me that the police wouldn't do anything for me, but i argued that I wanted to try anyway because I was running out of options. At first we couldn't even get through the front gate, but we finally convinced the guards to let Monica and I talk to a few more guards closer to the entrance of the building; George had to stay put. Monica and I pleaded with them to let us talk to a few officers to see if they could help us. After 10 minutes of arguing back and forth (them telling me that i should go on the radio or TV to announce that i was looking for my mom and me telling them I only had one day left in Cali and another police officer in Cartagena had gotten me an address, so it should be easier for them), one of these guards said he knew a few officers who may be able to help. He led us to a windowless office with two computers sharing the same desk pushed up against one of the 4 white walls. The officers we were talking to were detectives who specialized in homocides. The three officers began to search online for information, but this I soon realized, was nothing different than i had done in Cartagena a few months ago. Their internet dropped and one of the officers told me to come back in 2 hours. The other officer, who may have had a small crush on Monica, took us aside and said he may be able to help us, but we'd have to go to another building. Off we went to another police building. This one looked more like a normal office with cubicles and windows. The officers in this building specialized in kidnapping and extortion cases. Our friendly detective began asking his co-workers for their help, but everything was done quietly behind cubicle walls. Monica and I waited and waited for an answer of some sort. The detective finally came back and said he had good and bad news. They had matched Teodora's cedula number to her name, but they had found out that she didn't own any property, didn't have a car, and didn't own a landline nor cell phone. These are all things I knew or could've guessed, but I thanked them for their time and help. The detective told me he'd be in contact if he found out any more info and suggested I go back to La Sirena to ask as many people as possible if they knew her.

I had come all this way, I was not about to give up easily. One of the first people we talked to back in La Sirena suggested we ask the water plant owner (whose office had been closed earlier) and was able to give us her home address. Her daughter told us she was sleeping, but once she heard why we were asking, she went into her mother's bedroom and came out with a negative response- they had never heard of my birth mother. Her family suggested we speak with Raul, the cable owner. We drove back to Raul's and although he still wasn't home, his wife was. She invited us to their office around the side of their house and called her husband to tell him to come home. We explained who we were looking for and why, and Raul replied that he didn't recognize the name, but knew of a few Marin's in the neighborhood. While Raul went to ask a few neighbors in the area, his wife got out their cable records and began calling all the Marin's and Cabezas in La Sirena. Raul's wife also called the people who run the loudspeaker, which is audible throughout the entire neighborhood, and had Raul run a message asking if anyone knew a Teodora Marin Cabezas. She even got permission to make the announcement over the loudspeakers in the adjoining neighborhood, San Agustin. I couldn't help but smile when I heard Teodora's name radiate throughout the streets. A few minutes later, several people came to Raul's house and I rose with excitement thinking they may know something about my birth mom, but, of course, they were just coming to pay their cable bill.

As I sat on this kind family's paved backyard watching Raul and his wife play with her newborn girl while calling at least 30 people, a wave of fear and disappointment came over me. What if my parents were right? Should I have waited until I confirmed her address? It had already been 4 hours since we first came to La Sirena and my optimism was deflating as time passed. I took out this little Peruvian angel figure that a good family friend had given me for luck and safety only a a few weeks before and even though I tried to hold back, I couldn't help but shed a few tears. I was overcome with frustration and couldn't believe I was going to go back to Cartagena with nothing. I kept thinking that I had followed all the signs and took all the risks I could to be right here, in this moment, and I just couldn't believe that this long road that I had journeyed along led to nothing. Monica told me later that day that she had seen me holding the angel and had felt a pain in her chest, so she closed her eyes and began to pray for answers.

George called for me to come inside to where he was searching the internet because he said he had found Teodora's Ficha number (a number I had already found, but i had forgotten that the webpage wasn't working in the past so we were unable to do anything with it before). This number can link you to family members and their cedula numbers. While we were scambling to do that, I heard a lot of commotion outside and Raul's wife was shouting my name...I dropped everything and looked out the door. She shouted, ¨Les encontramos (we found them)!!!¨ I looked at Monica in disbelief asking with my eyes to repeat what they had said, and she confirmed it...they had found my birth mom.

{As this entry is super long, I'll save the next entry for how it went... My computer charger gave out on me over the weekend, so I apologize for the delay!}

"Reasons...The Reasons That We Hear, The Reasons That We Fear..."

I am extremely grateful for all the responses I received regarding my last post. After much thought and discussion, I have decided to wait until January to go look for my biological mom. I wanted to go as soon as possible, but there are several relatively important reasons to wait- the most important being that I need more information.
I need to know that my birth mom is still living in the same house in Cali. I have contacted the few people I know in Cali and am waiting to hear what they can find out. One contact I had (who shall remain nameless) offered to connect me to a man she knows who would search for $200.... The listed reasons for the amount of money owed were "Transportation, etc." While I realize all of these people don't know me well, I thought this a bit ridiculous since this neighborhood is in Cali and can't be that far out of the city. With $200, I could buy a plane ticket from Cartagena to look myself next month!

I've been lucky, though, to meet so many people in Colombia in such a short time. Here, I've learned time and time again that sharing why I'm in Cartagena can be of great help. I used to hate using 'connections.' Acquaintances would always tell me to use my dad's connections in the non-profit world to get a good job in DC. Instead of taking their advice, I rebelled and moved to California to do it myself...to start from scratch. Living in Colombia, however, I have come to learn the true beauty of connections. My new tour business depends on it and if I hadn't met the right people, it'd be sinking right now. Some of the most important connections I've made I met in the most random of places. Who would've known that this guy I met at a couch-surfer fiesta may just be the crucial link to another person in Cali who can find the one woman I've been wondering about all of my life? Waiting on this lead, I continue to pursue other possible connections who may be able to give me more answers before I leave.
If I only had to buy one ticket, I could go now. I think I would feel stronger, emotionally, if I had a friend to listen to me and support me...and force me to knock on Teodora's door. For this reason, I've decided to bring Monica to Cali with me. She's a good friend, an awesome supporter, and she has the ability to make me smile no matter what's going on in my life. She's never been on a plane before and has never ventured far from Cartagena; I know she'll have a fantastic time- she always does. Ontop of the trip for two, Colombia is just starting to implement their high season prices (Dec. 15th until Jan. 15), so plane tickets and hotel rates have sky-rocketed. I'd rather not spend a fortune on a whim.
Last, but certainly not least, I am scared out of my mind. I've tried to "prepare" for what I could say to her when she answers the door, but everything I think of looks ridiculous on paper. People keep saying it'll just come to me, but I'm worried it won't. Of course it's frustrating not being fluent yet, but I'm just hoping I can remember enough vocabulary to be able to express myself the way I would like.
I need to be prepared. I'm battling a lot of fear and doubts, and I'm planning for the worst. I heard this neighborhood is very dangerous, so I'm scared of the pain I might feel when I see how she's living. There is a lot of poverty out here and if she's living in a dangerous neighborhood in Cali, chances are she's still suffering from a bad financial position.
Needless to say, it feels like there's a storm brewing inside me and I have no doubt that being home, near those I love and who love me, will help calm my fears, anxiety, pain, and stress. Christmas and New Year's are a great time to refresh and reflect...and prepare for the future. While these reasons could have been tossed to the side and I could've taken the plunge to find my biological mom, I think that waiting until January may be best for me (as much as I denied it at first). 2010 is right around the corner, and I'm right down the street from my past...and my future. 

'Tis the Season...

Three days ago, I finally (after a month and a half) had a confirmed appointment with my lawyer to meet a woman who, I was told, could look up my birth mother's address. Although my lawyer called that morning to say she'd be earlier than she had originally proposed (2:30pm), we didn't end up leaving until 3:30pm. We met this woman at Instituto Colombiano de Bienestar Familiar (ICBF aka Colombian Institute of Family Welfare). ICBF organizes most adoptions out of Colombia, but not mine. My parents got me directly from Chiquitines, my orphanage. My lawyer never told me that Bienestar couldn't look for adopted children who didn't go through them directly. So after explaining my situation to this woman at Bienestar who didn't seem to know we had an appointment that day, we realized they weren't going to help us and left empty-handed. 

Back in her office, my lawyer said she knows someone who knows someone who can search for people for a fee. I have been warned not to search that way because often these people will hook you up with a random family who lies about being your birth family in order to receive monetary help. My lawyer also said she would contact my orphanage to request information on my mom. I told her (again) that I had already gone to the orphanage and had gotten everything they had on my birth mom- they didn't have up-to-date info on her. My lawyer insisted on it though, so I finally gave in. Sigh...another block in the road. 
I went home with a tummy ache from the stress. My co-worker Yuberleidys gave me some Panela tea to settle my stomach. Strange, but a block of Panela melted down in a pan with water tastes like a brown sugar molasses tea and has actually made me feel better several times while sick with a cold. Different people have told me a range of its many benefits- it helps cure stomach ulcers,  prevent tooth decay & amenia, and cures colds. I'm sure it does more. They sell Panela in blocks at the grocery store...unwrapped. 
This feeling of hopelessness began to take over. I realized, though, that there are people who have searched their entire lives for their families. I really shouldn't get discouraged so easily, but it's hard not to. I thought once you had someone's ID number and name, it wouldn't be too difficult. 
Yesterday, I was walking out our front door about to go to the market when my co-worker Lizety stepped out of the passenger side of a parked car. Not many families have cars, but as I said before, her brother is a pretty high ranking police officer. My heart jumped, i hadn't seen him for a month and I realized he may be here to give me good or bad news. I backed up a few steps, searching for some sort of answer in Lizety's eyes. Then her brother got out, looking serious as ever. I kept looking into Lizety's eyes for her to give me an answer, but all she did was half-smile and tell me to follow her. A sudden wave of fear came over me- she's going to give me bad news. She's dead, I can't believe I missed her. I came all the way to Colombia to find out that the only link I have to my family has passed away. Lizety reached into her purse and pulled out a small piece of paper. She handed it to me and smiled.... 


They had found my birth mother. She's still in Cali. I smiled, laughed, and said thank you about 5 times before I walked to a corner away from her and her brother. I couldn't hold it in anymore- I cried. My breathing slowed down, and I felt a small, yet noticeable release of stress and worry. Lizety came to check on me and gave me a big hug, which didn't help me to stop crying. Her brother walked by, saw tears rolling down my face, and I knew he knew how much it meant to me. He smiled, but walked to the bathroom out of sight. All of my co-workers at Casa Sweety...i mean friends...no, i mean family...know what this meant to me. I walked up to my friend Monica and placed the paper with my birth mother's address in front of her while she was typing. She stared at it then suddenly jerked her head up to look at me...she saw me crying and tears formed in her eyes. Monica has tried everything in her power to help me look online. We just kept hitting dead-ends and webpages that weren't working anymore. She instantly said she wanted to come to Cali with me to find her. Right..., the next step....I hadn't thought of that yet.


All the girls got together and brainstormed. First thought- call 411. Nope, she doesn't have a landline. Next, look online again for any leads. Turns out she is in need of a new cedula card. We then discovered she had renewed it. We even found out when and where she needs to pick it up! The internet is amazing.  More evidence that she is still alive. 
I'm thinking about bringing a friend from Cartagena to Cali. I feel like I need someone there with me to keep me sane. I have NO idea what to expect. Right now, I'm looking at my options. My mom brought up the idea to call the taxi driver who took us around the city 9 months ago. He was super friendly and knew my story. He may even be able to check out the neighborhood and see if she's still living in the house I have an address for. I only have 3 connections in Cali right now, so I'm contacting all of them (orphanage, taxi driver, & Medellin woman whose husband's family lives there) to get a feel of this neighborhood and maybe see if she's still around. Lizety's brother even said he may know a cop or two in Cali who can ask around. 
The last piece I'm considering right now is WHEN I will go to Cali. Part of me wanted to go as soon as I had her address in my hand. My heart says to go now so I don't miss my chance. My head says to wait until I return to Colombia after Christmas (it's cheaper & I may have more information if i wait). One thing I know for sure is that I couldn't have made it this far without using my heart. I've always wanted to come to Colombia. I didn't really start pressuring my parents to visit with me until the holiday season last year. My mom and I finally decided to make the trip in March. My mom always uses Trip Advisor and found a beautiful, friendly B&B called Casa Sweety. I loved it and ended up keeping in contact with the manager and owner. 7 months later, I decided to offer my services to Casa Sweety and got a job. Casa Sweety introduced me to Lizety, Lizety introduced me to her brother, and her brother found my birth mom. 
I have to make this decision as soon as possible. Any advice is greatly appreciated! Through the help of so many people, I've come this far. I can finally picture myself in front of my birth mother's house- and as scared as I am, it doesn't seem so unlikely anymore. :)

It's Time To Go

It’s time to go and leave this place. I have done all I can here in San Diego- made lots of friends (close and shallow), lived in lots of different apts and houses, found my two loves for music, worked in several nonprofits, fell in love, went out by myself, and did it all on my own with no friends or family nearby. It was fun, but my time here is up. I don’t feel like I’m getting anywhere anymore. I feel stuck in a rut in all aspects of my life.  I’m not in the right line of work, I haven’t found the perfect place to live, I keep getting my heart broken, and I haven’t found myself yet…almost, but not yet.

Today I met up with two girls who were my two first friends out here in San Diego. It was such a wonderful feeling seeing them again and reconnecting. We’ve all been terrible at keeping in touch, but it didn’t matter b/c as soon as we were together again it was as if nothing had changed. Of course we’re more mature now, but we still fit together and were comfortable together. Catching up on each other’s lives took some time, but it was great to see them coming into their own. One of them is engaged, the other is in a serious relationship (a first for her) and they are both beaming full of life. I told them of my plans to move to Colombia and they were so happy and excited for me. It was at that point that I realized that my life here in San Diego had made a circle. I started my journey with them here and now I’m close to ending it. They introduced me to a few people 6 years ago who led me to a few other people who now mean the world to me. But, like them, I’m ready to take on the next part of my life. They gave me that extra boost of confidence I needed to take the next steps, reassuring me that if I could move to SD on my own, I could do it again in Colombia. I’ve got the strength within me- I’ve just got to do it.

So today I started my blog that I'll continue to write in while in Colombia. I promise to be as honest/raw as possible and as curious as I can. I have a feeling I’ll find myself…and maybe even find a few surprises along the way. Can’t wait to embark on this new adventure. I just hope I’m not too lonely. It’s inevitable that I will be for a while, but I hope I don’t drown in it. It's scary and exciting all at the same time. Looking forward to it though.... ;)