Stupor.

Silvana Paternostro begins to narrate her very sad story of how she aspires to reconnect with the country she let behind, by letting the reader know how much interest she lacks on learning the truth, and most importantly, communicating the truth about it. In a very blatant manner, Paternostro gives no time to introductions, dedications, explanations, or the most mere sense of modesty. From page two, the journey through the pages of what is possibly the worst history lesson I have ever faced in my seventeen years of life begins to amaze me, and not even because it was boring. It was the complete opposite. As a Colombian, being able to relate to some of her exaggerated versions of traveling with a green (now brown) passport allows me to correct and diminish the loud cry for attention she exposes while describing these experiences. Arguing how she has been strip searched in three airports, questioned about her personal hygiene routines, and other unpleasant stories, she begins to communicate how embarrassed she feels on being Colombian. I could state that she doesn't really know how the world works, how ignorant she is on her nationality, and how much she doesn't know about foreign policies, cultures, and basic common courtesy. But to my greatest disappointment, she's a grown woman, and was old enough to know about the latter at the age she left Colombia, which was the age of fifteen. Being seventeen myself, I have known for a while that Colombia has a significant part of the Amazon jungle, forests, mountains, coasts, and regions that aren't named departments because of their development status. Now, the problem with Paternostro increases, as there is nothing more irritating than teenage ignorance, on a personal level. The author continues trying to explain how much her "love" for "her" nation makes her want to reconnect with it more and more, but it all lies on a selfish interest of once again, shouting at the world how interesting and cultured she is not. Her corny love stories and failed attempts at being a backpacker hippie are almost just as pestering as what comes next, more history and geography lessons that seem to derive directly from children's books. Now comes what probably amazed me most about this historically incorrect and misinformed memoir. "my mother told me during out weekly phone conversations, mostly that la guerrilla had taken over the region, kidnapping someone we knew here and there, killing cattle, burning pastures." "HERE AND THERE." The phrase rumbles in my head over and over again. As a Colombian this shouldn't be the case, I should be used to listening to the term kidnapping even almost in my daily life. But the wording Paternostro uses, is easily the most alarming and concerning I have read in a published piece. One can see apples here and there, or one could jump around, here and there. But one does not kidnap here and there. It's not just one of the simple things in life a person enjoys. It's not a joke, it's not a topic you just walk through, and it's most definitely, not a "here and there" topic. This is the part where she states she had "no idea half of [Colombia] was jungle, and precisely, where my mind wanders once again into thinking when publishers decided that this woman was allowed to publish something she clearly knows nothing about, and has the nerve to teach others about it. Thinking that her writing couldn't possibly be any more offensive, distasteful, insolent, and embarrassing, she continues by comparing Colombia to a play-doh doll, clearly the smartest analogy her writing achieves. She then decides to involve romantic stories with countries, narrating how her thick mind imagines Brazil, Venezuela, and Colombia involved in a ménage-à-trois, or in simpler words, three parties involved in the same sexual intercourse session. History lessons on Colombia's political violence continues. Fortunately, there seems to be no historical or geographical mistake in this part, to my relief. Not surprisingly, she continues with her arrogant and just plain ignorant stereotypes on "Bogotanos" and "Cachacos", which aren't even worth explaining where she, once again, prevaricates the truth. Then, Paternostro does it again. As she claims "The only reality Colombia has known since its inception is war" my blood boils in amazement of how moronic a person can be. Fortunately, at the end of the first chapter of what I can sense to be one of the most tergiversated and insulting books written in a long time, she admits to being ignorant about the country she abandoned. Maybe there is hope for the memoir to get better, and maybe she will renovate and reform herself as she learns something about what she tries to explain.