Let’s get something straight from the start:
You can watch 100 videos, read every Reddit thread, scroll TikTok until your battery gives up… but nothing fully prepares you for living in Colombia.

Because Colombia is not a highlight reel of sunsets, bandeja paisa, and coffee farms.
It’s real life — messy, beautiful, unpredictable, warm, strange, slow, loud, delicious, and unforgettable.

And while everyone loves talking about the good (mountains! weather! fruit!), very few talk about the things you only understand once you’re here.

So let’s dive into what no one tells you about moving to Colombia — from transportation to noise culture, from the money you actually need to the reason almost every foreigner ends up falling in love with this country in a way they never expected.

There are two Colombias:
The one where you’re staring at a waterfall in the Coffee Axis…
And the one where you’re in Bogotá traffic wondering if you’ll ever see that waterfall again.

You’ll sit in traffic long enough to finish a podcast, a snack, and maybe two years of therapy.

The metro is amazing — clean, safe, punctual — but once you’re in a car, you’ll realize that Medellín’s mountains don’t forgive poor urban planning.

Taxis stop whenever they feel like it. Red lights are suggestions. Motorcycles are everywhere.
And somehow, it all works.

They will appear from nowhere, slide between cars, deliver your groceries, take your lunch order, and leave before you blink.

If you come from the U.S. or Europe, the transportation culture will shock you at first.
But here’s the thing: you adapt.
You learn the rhythm.
And eventually, you become one with the chaos.

Let me break your heart gently:
In Colombia, almost nothing happens fast.

Open a bank account? One hour.
No, just kidding — four hours.
Get a notarized document? Bring snacks.
Delivery time? “Llegamos en 20 minutos” (they will arrive in 45… if you’re lucky).
Doctor’s appointment at 9? The doctor shows up at 9:40.

Not because people are lazy.
Because life here runs on human connection, not efficiency.

A simple errand turns into a conversation, then a joke, then a mini therapy session, then an unexpected cultural lesson. And honestly… it’s kind of wonderful.

When you stop expecting U.S.-speed execution, Colombia becomes much easier — and much more enjoyable.

Colombians won’t just talk to you.
They will ask where you’re from, what you’re doing here, what you’re eating later, whether you like salsa, if you’re married, why you’re not married, and if you’re hungry.

And they’re not being rude — they’re being Colombian.

Colombians are warm, curious, and deeply human.
If your taxi driver likes you, he’ll recommend a restaurant, ask about your family, tell you his life story, and give you marital advice.

You’ll feel welcomed — more than you expected.
More than you’re used to.
And it will change you.

In Colombia, silence is suspicious.

If you don’t hear music, dogs, buses, kids running, motorcycles, or someone yelling “AGUAAAAA,” then you’re probably in a forest… and even then, a vallenato will somehow find you.

Expect fireworks at 6am.

Your neighbor will play music as if he personally owns Spotify.

Forget sleep. There will be novenas, parties, street parades, and speakers the size of refrigerators.

They don’t bark — they debate philosophy with each other at 3am.

Noise is part of the culture — and once you stop fighting it, it becomes a soundtrack of life.

People abroad think Colombian food is spicy.
It’s not.

People think it’s full of heavy flavors.
Not really.

Colombian food is comfort food — simple, warm, and made to feed the soul.

But the surprises?
Those are everywhere.

Lulo, maracuyá, uchuva, guanábana, feijoa — fruits you never knew existed.

They’re the size of your head.

Colombians LOVE soups.
Ajiaco, sancocho, mute, caldo, mondongo (don’t ask until after you try it).

Hot chocolate with cheese?
Welcome to Bogotá.

Pandebonos, buñuelos, almojábanas… this country is a carb paradise.

Colombian food doesn’t try to impress you — it tries to comfort you.
And it wins.

Colombia has no seasons — but it has microclimates, which is Spanish for “you will never dress correctly.”

Cold at 7am.
Hot at 10am.
Rain at 2pm.
Frozen at night.
Repeat forever.

Beautiful… until the mountains decide to dump 20 minutes of heavy rain on you.

Hot.
Then hotter.
Then humid.
Then hotter-humid.

A dream — warm days, cool nights, rainstorms that sound like a meditation app.

Weather here keeps you humble.
You go everywhere with layers.
And an umbrella.
And a jacket.
And sunscreen.
And you still get it wrong.

Colombia is increasingly cashless — but cash still rules certain moments of daily life.

A normal day might require $5–$15 USD in cash.

Not much — but essential.

ATM fees vary, cards sometimes get declined, and many places still prefer billete.

With all its quirks — the traffic, the noise, the bureaucracy, the unpredictable weather — why do foreigners fall so hard for Colombia?

Because Colombia has something rare:
It feels alive.

Life here isn’t transactional.
People look at you, talk to you, connect with you.

There’s joy in the small things — the fruit vendor who remembers your name, the old man playing guitar on the corner, the grandmother who insists you take seconds, the taxi driver who gives you a TED talk for free.

There’s nature everywhere — mountains, beaches, jungles, deserts, cities built inside valleys.

There’s culture — music, food, color, dancing, real emotion.

There’s warmth — in the climate, in the people, in the daily life that forces you to slow down just enough to notice the world again.

Colombia has problems — every country does.
But it also has a heartbeat.
And if you stay long enough, your rhythm synchronizes with it.

And that’s why people don’t just visit Colombia.
They stay.
Or they leave and spend years trying to come back.