Colombian Memoirs

Colombia, South America 1955. The Golden Years, when radio was more popular than black and white TV, when food only cost cents, when cars were made from real steel, and when the Milk Man came door to door. Pereira was a small city located near the three biggest cities: Bogota, Medellin, and Cali. My father was born into a large Colombian family, a family of 14 brothers and sisters. He was the third to last child born in the family, and he was named Gilberto, a good Spanish name. Now like anywhere in the 50’s people were very traditional and proper. Men in this era were very (machista) sexist, and the man was the head of the household. They were the main breadwinners with their wives at home cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the children. Families were huge in numbers back then; it was the normal size of an everyday Colombian family. After losing 2 to illness all together there were 12. Many of the older brothers and sisters were already starting families of their own when my father was born. He was brought up in a somewhat good neighborhood in a middleclass family. My mother was also born in 1955 on a coffee farm near Pereira, on the other side of town opposite from where my father was raised. She was named Piedad, also a very Spanish name meaning Mercy. My mother was very much a merciful women always showing mercy to others, and very nurturing. She was born into a family of 12 brothers and sisters also. What can I say, my grandparents did not own a television set, and entertainment was making babies. They lost a brother when he was a young boy to an illness also making them 11. My grandparents owned a coffee farm where the older kids were raised most of their lives. They moved to Pereira when it was just being referred to as a city. At that time my mom’s family was considered poor country folk, but that made them more humble people and rich at heart. This was a time and a country where people had very little money, no technology but maybe a radio or a television set. The dirty clothes used to be washed in a big sink in the back porch, called “El Lavadero”, no modern electrical technology existed yet, and only the rich could afford a car. Breakfast consisted of “Arepa con mantequilla y queso” (corn cake with butter and cheese), or “Chocolate batido con queso y pan” (Hot chocolate with cheese, and bread) and your occasional steak and eggs. My father’s family lived more comfortable than my mother’s family. Because my mom’s family lived in a small house with so many kids but not enough rooms or beds for all of them, it was normal for three or four brothers and sisters to sleep on the same bed. This generation of kids played with sticks, rocks, rope, rag dolls made from old shirts, and anything they could engineer from nature. They played hide and seek, ran and played outside and climbed trees, not having a care in the world. People would listen to music to pass the time, romantic slow love songs like ones by Julio Jaramillo, or Olimpo Cardenas, I remember one in particular, “Nuestro Juramento”, a love song about a man promising his lady that if she dies first that he will write the story of their love with the blood of his heart. It was a very passionate time filled with passionate people. This was a tougher life back then, but more sociable, and less complicated by modern technology. The country was mostly of the Roman Catholic religion and people's morals came from tradition, religion, and culture.