Yellow is the color of buñuelos, my favorite food in the whole wide world: that perfectly round, tan pastry that only my abuelita knows how to make perfectly.
The sky is blue in the middle of winter, not one single cloud to be found. It’s the same weather everyday: out here, seasons are a foreign concept.
Red is the color of my distant relatives’ lipstick: you barely remember her name, but she still greets you with a big kiss on the cheek every time she sees you at family reunions. During those, the house is always noisy, full of more people than it was intended for: just the way we like it.
In the living room, little cousins shake their maracas and sing Christmas songs in May, while the couples dance “Cali Pachangero” in the kitchen and the aunts gather to gossip around a big table.
Yellow, blue and red: three colors that come together to represent 52 million people, 20 different styles of dance, about 1,000 different dishes, and a soundtrack that matches each vibe perfectly. And the family gatherings, although arguably the best event, don’t begin to cover how it is like living in Colombia, my home.
When I was asked to write an article about art in my country, I had no idea where it was going to lead. Talking about art in Colombia is such a huge task because, back where I come from, everything is art. But, as I’ve come to realize during my time away, music is what ties it all together.
In Colombia, silence is rare and avoided. When you’re feeling happy, you put on reggaeton to hype you up. Nothing beats listening to J Balvin, Karol G, or Feid while getting ready to go out with your friends.
Or when you’re in love, and put on Fonsecas, Sebastian Yatras and
Carlos Vives love ballads to remind you of that special person.
I love when merengue starts playing in the party, just around 11:00 p.m., and all the boys start looking for the perfect girls to dance with. The butterflies you get while spinning around to “La Bilirrubina” are unmatched.
I miss scream-singing to Shakira Peter Manjarres in the car, while driving to a doctor’s appointment with my mom. How can something so simple become such a cherished memory?
And although all those memories are tinged with yearning and nostalgia, I couldn’t be happier to be here in the United States, where music also holds a very special place.
My favourite thing happens everyday during track practice, after Mr. Seidenberg gives his daily motivational speech. His typical ending, “What’s the song of the day?” is always followed by Nora’s speaker playing songs like “Valerie” or “Party in the USA” on full blast.
Every day, I witness how these songs fill previously exhausted students with energy to go and give it their best try. It makes me realize that, no matter where you are, music will find a way to reach you and change the way you feel. At the end of the day, it truly is a universal language.
