Ik wist niet dat ik een onkruid was - opening night

It started as a soup de native Colombians would do with potato, corn,  avocado and guascas. When the Spanish came, they took the recipe back to  Europe where they added chicken, cream, and capers. It travelled back  to be known as a typical bogotanian plate. My Colombian identity, served  on my Colombian table, around a Colombian family, is a result of  travels and encounter between cultures. What I consider mine had to face  the other to become itself. The guasca, our Colombian herb, that gives  this soup its special taste, here is nothing more than an uncomfortable  weed.  Her identity, her purpose, and her use, are defined by the social  context she is in. Just like me.  The person I was back home is not  seen the same way here, and just like the ajiaco, I needed the travel, I  needed the mirror of the other, to make sense of myself. Identity is no  longer a fixed concept.  Now, just like the guasca, weather I am a weed  or a herb, I have decided grow between the cement.