LatestBogotá again, in August
Three weeks in Bogotá with Claire and the kids: the cold of the high plain, my mother a little smaller, an ajiaco, and a question she had never asked me quite like that.
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Lyon, France
A Bogotá native in Lyon, writing in the language my kids understand but won't speak.
Photo: archer10 (Dennis) · CC BY-SA 2.0
Hi, I'm Julien
My name is Julián, but nobody in Lyon calls me that: here I've been Julien since day one. I was born in Bogotá and I've lived in Lyon for twelve years. This is where I write about whatever is happening to me: the kids, the job of translating, the river, the things I miss. There's no theme here, just a life, which is plenty.
LatestThree weeks in Bogotá with Claire and the kids: the cold of the high plain, my mother a little smaller, an ajiaco, and a question she had never asked me quite like that.
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After my run along the Saône I always end up at the same stall in the quai Saint-Antoine market. This Saturday Fernando told me he was leaving.

I'm translating a French novel for a publisher in Madrid, and a single word, goûter, kept me arguing with myself for a whole week.

Ten years of talking to my kids in Spanish while they answer me in French, and one feverish January night when something shifted.