Hello! My name is Melissa Lent and I live in Rego Park, Queens. Currently, I’m looking to major in Media Studies and English and minor in Theatre. The reason I want to major and minor in all these different fields is because they directly tie to my interests: web design, creative writing, and theatre production. I love the art of creation, whether the end product is a beautiful blog, an engrossing book, or a captivating play, and all the hours, details, and ideas that get put into making something great.
I also love arts and crafts, ramen, and trippy art museums!
Even though my earliest memories have been fragmented and blurred by time, Tierras Colombianas is a place grounded in familiarity. Many nights out would take us to Astoria, and as we walked down the street lined with trees with twinkling lights down their trunks, we would see the long line out the door that promised at least half an hour’s wait before we could enter the establishment. Inside, the walls are decorated with murals of native Colombians in traditional clothes,ponchos and ruffled skirts, wide brimmed hats and capes. Marble tables and booths fill the space, and my preferred place is a room out to the side, right next to walls made of glass so you can see out into the streets bustling with people.
During my childhood, loud chatter filled the air, the din competing with the clink of cutlery on plates. The portions were huge. My family would order banderas, or plates full of carne asada, rice, platanos the size of the palm of your hand, fish my mom said was the best of any restaurant in New York City, and arepas my grandma tried to make me eat without success. We would tell stories as our stomachs filled with food that was comforting and perfectly cooked. Tierras Colombianas was the place for us to go to everytime we wanted to celebrate, take out guests, or eat a good meal without cooking it. It was a staple location in my life,and so speaking about it makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Today, the restaurant is a museum of memories. A few months ago, while buying Christmas decorations, my family and I decided to have dinner there. Walking through the sparsely populated booths, the space was full of ghosts trying to bring atmosphere back into a lifeless business. Instead of a team of running waiters, there is only one. The food tastes as sad as I feel. Sitting there felt wrong, as if looking out from a glass coffin onto the streets brimming with life. I don’t want to go back anymore.
