always come back to who I am when I get home to my mother. The smell of floor cleaner, the taste of cooked rice, the torpor of the 2 pm tangling sleep until 3 or 4. Back to the childhood home is to go steps like a lost ghost. Knock on the door, go straight to the room that was mine and since then to redo things when I was a kid. Get into bed with mom and watch TV until midnight, always seek her hand on my head, choose the menu of the day: typical soup, baked chicken, passion fruit juice in milk.
Back to the home of childhood is to remember what I made. Friends of the block, choir rehearsals, mass of six bus routes with names like Igsabelar fetched, Altamira, Real de Minas, Sugar Loaf and Limoncito. Arepa is to eat soup with Santander's Restaurant Tony and burgers at Mercagán.
Each time I return to my home in Bucaramanga, a city of 800,000 in northeastern Colombia, awakens the feeling of having come to the only place I belong. I left there 9 years ago, driven by the search for better future is always believed to be in the capital. But every time I go, feeling the warmth of his nearly 30 ° C, the sharp focus that we talk to those who are there, walking through the parks are everywhere, I want to go back someday. Return, and never again feel that pang in my heart that I feel when I say goodbye to my mom and I'm choking with grief that time passes, she grows older and not much else is going to be waiting at the door.
Back to the home of childhood is to remember what I made. Friends of the block, choir rehearsals, mass of six bus routes with names like Igsabelar fetched, Altamira, Real de Minas, Sugar Loaf and Limoncito. Arepa is to eat soup with Santander's Restaurant Tony and burgers at Mercagán.
Each time I return to my home in Bucaramanga, a city of 800,000 in northeastern Colombia, awakens the feeling of having come to the only place I belong. I left there 9 years ago, driven by the search for better future is always believed to be in the capital. But every time I go, feeling the warmth of his nearly 30 ° C, the sharp focus that we talk to those who are there, walking through the parks are everywhere, I want to go back someday. Return, and never again feel that pang in my heart that I feel when I say goodbye to my mom and I'm choking with grief that time passes, she grows older and not much else is going to be waiting at the door.
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