The Roots of the Guava Tree: Growing Up Jewish and Arab in Colombia

by Sonia Daccarett

A debut contemporary memoir about a young woman struggling to understand her identity as the daughter of a Jewish mother and Christian Palestinian father, coming of age in Colombia as increasing violence and the instability of the 1980s engulf her country. 

Sonia Daccarett grew up with a Jewish mother and a Christian Palestinian father in Colombia during the drug-war 1980s. When she asks her parents questions about their family’s ethnicity and religion they answer evasively, defining their family religion and ethnicity as “nothing.” Grandparents and family members who speak Yiddish, Hebrew, and Arabic and fled from places called the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Russia, Bethlehem, and the Ottoman Empire, does not sound like “nothing” to Sonia.

At the same time, Sonia grapples with her American education at school. She is both enchanted and challenged by the tropical landscape of her childhood in a remote suburb of Cali, which is rapidly changing as cocaine trafficking and drug cartels begin to dominate the city’s life.

As she tries to discover what her family is, Colombia begins unraveling around her through violence, kidnappings, and the death of acquaintances and friends. At the same time, her parents’ marriage and their personal identities are rocked by the faraway Israeli invasion of Lebanon in 1982. Soon, she will have to decide whether to stay in Colombia with her family or leave them behind to find the answers she seeks.

Genres: Memoir, Nonfiction, Jewish

248 pages, Kindle Edition

Published August 12, 2025

About the author

Sonia Daccarett is a writer and communications professional. Born in Colombia to a Christian Palestinian father and a Jewish mother, she moved to the United States and received an undergraduate degree in journalism from the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, and a master’s degree in international and public affairs from Columbia University. She lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her family.

Reviews

[Louise · Rating 4 out of 5]

(3.5 stars)
The Roots of the Guava Tree is a memoir about growing up in Colombia in the 1970s and 1980s. Sonia is the older daughter of a Jewish mother and a Christian Palestinian father, living in tropical Cali in a beautiful house in a “new” neighborhood far from the center of the city. I had high hopes for this book due to Sonia’s interesting family heritage, but it was a bit of a letdown. It was an interesting memoir, but I wanted more. More about her family’s heritage, especially more about her two sets of grandparents, both of whom left their own countries behind for what they felt would be safety in Colombia. Sonia’s parents, however, did not embrace their differing religious backgrounds at all. They basically told Sonia they were “nothing.” So Sonia felt like an outsider in every possible way: not Catholic like the vast majority of the people around them and also not something else specific. The scenes of her attending her first Passover Seder and not knowing what was going on, while her cousins did, made me sad for what she missed out on, due to her parents’ decisions.

The tales of her childhood were lovely but slow, and as I said already, I was hoping for more. The last few chapters finally got to the period when Colombia became an extremely dangerous place, and those chapters were very interesting to me.

I would really have liked some photos, but my copy of the book did not have any.

Thank you to Book Sparks, She Writes Press, and NetGalley for the opportunity to read an advance readers copy of this book. All opinions are my own.

[Tiffani · Rating 4 out of 5]

First, a huge thank you to @booksparks and @sdaccarett_author, for including me in your #SummerPopUp.

The Roots Of The Guava Tree isn't just a story. It's a memoir, a recollection of memories from growing up. Daccarette shares deeply personal stories, and recalls moments from her childhood where she focus on the question all kids ask, simply why? Why are we different? Why don't we follow religion? Why does our family speak different languages?

This memoir covers exactly what the cover says. It's a highly personal, and poignant recollection of Daccarettes experience growing up Jewish and Arab in Colombia in the 1980's. This memoir covers so much of her personal experience, and the universal experience of discovering your own identity.

[Yvonne · Rating 4 out of 5]

I don’t usually read memoirs, but The Roots of the Guava Tree surprised me.

Sonia Daccarett writes about growing up in 1980s Colombia while trying to make sense of her mixed identity and her family’s silence. It’s personal, emotional, and quietly powerful.

I really respected her honesty and the way she explored family, culture, and belonging.

Thank you, booksparks, for my gifted copy for an honest review

[Whatithinkaboutthisbook · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Roots of the Guava Tree: Growing Up Jewish and Arab in Colombia by Sonia Daccarett

This is a fascinating and heartfelt exploration of identity, family and belonging. Set in Cali, Colombia, it chronicles her upbringing in a home shaped by two distinct cultural and religious heritages - Arab Christian and Jewish- yet firmly rooted in neutrality toward both religions.

Her father, a Christian Arab born in Colombia to immigrant parents from Bethlehem, and her mother, a Colombian born Jew whose parents fled Austro-Hungarian Empire to escape antisemitism, both chose to raise their family with religious neutrality. Despite their deep connections to their families, they distanced themselves from formal religious practices. Sonia is continually frustrated when told they are “nothing” as she tries to ascertain how where her family fits in a country where Catholicism is deeply ingrained in the social fabric. Feeling unanchored and marked as different, she recalls with touching honesty, moments of confusion and shame - the only one not receiving First Communion or not knowing presents came from baby Jesus at Christmas. Her father’s frequent advice that religion and politics only lead to arguments, leaves her with unanswered questions.

The book is filled with charming, often humorous anecdotes of family life. One of the strengths of her storytelling is how she revisits childhood memories from an adult perspective, gaining a new found appreciation for her parents and grand parents.

The book is richly layered with Colombian, Jewish and Arabic culture, cuisine and languages; adding depth and flavour that readers interested in multi-cultural experiences will enjoy. Her descriptions of life in Colombia in the 1970’s & 80’s are evocative, painting a vivid picture of the country’s landscape, music and lifestyles. The stark contrast between life before and after the rise of drug cartel violence is clearly illustrated and fuels her decision to study abroad.

Overall, this is a charmingly written and thoughtful memoir that offers a unique lens into a complex cultural identity and a family navigating multiple worlds.

[Nicole · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thanks SparkPoint Studio and NetGalley for the ARC! I really appreciated this memoir. Sonia allows us to follow her story of growing up during an increasingly volatile time in Colombia, not just as a young girl, but also as a sister, a friend, granddaughter, and a daughter to an Arab Christian father and a Jewish mother. Sonia's parents do not define themselves by anything like culture or religion, so the question of "who am I?" is a recurring theme as Sonia is growing up around kids who celebrate Christmas and Easter. I loved the way the landscapes were described, I could picture myself on their big property in Cali, and in the car with them when they drive through town as the drug wars in Colombia were just starting and then escalating. Although there is a struggle to understand her identity as she comes of age, and the distance one creates with their parents as a teenager, I thought the relationship with her parents and also grandmothers was really beautiful. The emotional weaving that she allows us to experience was special. Specifically, toward the end as she's leaving to come to the USA for school, and her dad steps in to help with a situation at the airport. The book is very much about Sonia but the consistency of her parents throughout the book was touching, and the story of the lizard in the bedroom had me laughing out loud. The immigrant experience trickles down and out to children, cousins, friends, etc., of immigrants and hearing everyone's story is just so important. I loved the quote, "I learn the limits of my father's patience, which was forged by a methodical climb out of economic adversity but stops at entitled behavior."

Definitely read this memoir, I really enjoyed it!

[Readingbythepool · Rating 4 out of 5]

I don’t pick up memoirs often, but when I saw this one, I had to read it. As a political science major, I was drawn in by the chance to learn more about Colombia’s history from someone who actually lived through it, but what really intrigued me was Sonia’s background: growing up in Colombia as the daughter of a Jewish mother and a Christian Palestinian father.

This beautifully told memoir explores Sonia’s coming of age in a family and country full of contradictions. She searches for answers about her identity, faith, and heritage but her questions are often met with her parents always defining it as “nothing”. Her family doesn’t practice religious traditions in the way others around her do, which leads to deep confusion and feelings of isolation. Her personal search for belonging becomes even more complex as Colombia itself begins to change. From rising drug trafficking and child kidnappings to the assassination of political leaders and the 1985 Palace of Justice siege, Sonia’s world becomes increasingly unstable just as she’s preparing to leave for college.

What struck me most was the layered generational story: her family fled violence and oppression in places like the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Russia, Bethlehem, and the Ottoman Empire in search of safety. Only for conflict to arise again in Colombia. The cyclical nature of displacement and the quiet resilience woven through Sonia’s story really stayed with me.

I’m so grateful she chose to share this powerful, personal journey. Thank you to Booksparks , She Writes Press, and Sonia Daccarett for a copy of the book and the opportunity to read it.

[Rachel · Rating 3 out of 5]

Sonia Darccarett’s memoir, The Roots of the Guava Tree, is about being the child of a Christan Palestinian father and a Jewish mother in Columbia. Both of her parents were humanists so this isn’t so much a book about having a dual identity and having to figure out how to meld them. It’s more a book about how she felt like she had no identity. Whenever she asked her parents about religion, they told her they had no religion and that she should never talk to anyone about religion because it would just cause problems. That was hard because almost all of her classmates in the English language school she attended were Catholic. They didn’t know she was half Jewish and said Anti-Semitic things around her. She struggled with feeling like she didn’t fit in.

Sonia’s parents were distant in other ways. Her dad preferred to spend his time in his study reading newspapers to spending time with the family. Her mother was a very serious, almost gloomy person. In their effort to shield Sonia from anything religious, they didn’t even let her attend her grandparents’ funerals because they would be religious ceremonies. It’s interesting that whenever Sonia asked about religion, they told her she could decide what she wanted to do when she was an adult but didn’t make any effort to teach about the religions they grew up with. She wondered often how she could make that choice with no information.

The Roots of the Guava Tree is an insightful memoir about growing up feeling like an outsider in your own country.

[Sarah Talks Books · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sonia Daccarett’s debut memoir has me scrambling to gather my thoughts and express everything this book made me think and feel.

I found this account of her childhood incredibly nostalgic, despite the fact it was completely different, both geographically and culturally from my own. Yet it was fun to discover little ways that it was exactly the same, including a scene where her grandmother shares an album of “Peter and the Wolf” (though hers was “Pedro Y El Lobo). From her description of the cover, it was clear it was the exact same cover of the one I had as a kid. It also reminded me of how I looked at the world as a child and the many questions I had. Her’s couldn’t have been more different from my childhood, as she grew up in a Colombia where Pablo Escobar’s drug trafficking and violence took place. Guerilla groups were also attacking government officials and kidnapping children for ransom. Yet in many ways, it was just like my own childhood.

Her writing is extremely descriptive and captivating. She shares the details of her family’s background; her mother’s side were Jews from Russia and her father’s family were Christians from Palestine. She gives details about their history and reasons for emigrating to Colombia. Daccarett also shares how she struggled with her identity, as she tried to fit in with the kids at school who had strong religious identity; something her parents strongly opposed.

I highly recommend it!

[Becky | myhyggereads · Rating 5 out of 5]

"𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆, 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒘𝒂𝒚."

Culture and religion are two of the biggest factors in shaping our identity. But what happens when we can’t describe ourselves with a single term and clear label? Daccarett explores the meaning of identity through a series of poignant and beautiful stories from her childhood, growing up with a Jewish mother and a Christian Palestinian father in 1980s Colombia. Each chapter is a different memory and serves to heighten Daccarett’s increasing questions about herself, her identity and her history. The lies she is told by her parents in an attempt to insulate and keep her safe; how her concerns about lack of identity labels are brushed off and followed with a warning to never discuss politics and religion; the overall longing to belong and understand and create an identity - these are just some of the takeaways from this brilliantly written book. An incredibly powerful yet tactful account of how we can never truly leave behind our past as we look ahead to create our futures, I highly recommend this book, even if you rarely read non-fiction!

Thank you to BookSparks for my gifted copy.

[Mandy · Rating 3 out of 5]

Sonia Daccarett grew up in the 1970-80s in Columbia, the daughter of a Jewish mother and a Christian Palestinian father, and the granddaughter of Jews who had fled anti-Semitism in Europe. In spite of this varied and rich heritage she was brought up religiously neutral and her questions about faith and religion remained unanswered. As she grew she became more and more curious about her roots and wanted to find out more, and sets out to do so. Set against an increasingly violent and turbulent Colombia and the increasingly dangerous drugs trade there, she blends the personal with the political whilst focusing primarily on her family history. The book ends with her leaving Columbia for college, with many of her questions still unanswered and her sense of not belonging and of displacement still resonant for her. It’s a powerful memoir up to a point, but because so little is resolved within its pages, I found it a little too open-ended and wondered whether she had found any solace through her introspection. An interesting memoir, for sure, but not always a very satisfactory read.

[Shana · Rating 3 out of 5]

***Thanks to NetGalley for this ARC in exchange for my honest review***

This is the memoir of a woman's childhood as the daughter of a Jewish mother and Christian Palestinian father in Colombia. I was attracted to it because of the very specific niche and was curious about her experience. Unfortunately, there isn't a lot about her identity development past repeated assertions that it was confusing. Her parents seemed to avoid discussing the politics and religions of their ancestors. The author was exposed to their cultures of origin through food and spending time with extended family, but for the most part she seemed rather isolated from it all. Since the book stops at her departure for college in the US, I wonder if that was where more meaning-making around her identity took place. This memoir seemed to have a lot more about what it was like to grow up in Colombia during that particular time as violence became more and more prevalent.

[Kim Wilch · Rating 4 out of 5]

This memoir had me hooked from the beautiful cover to the very last page. Sonia invites us into her world—growing up in Cali, Colombia, during a time of growing unrest—and it’s a ride that’s deeply personal and quietly powerful. Her story balances the confusion of identity (when your family doesn’t lean into cultural or religious norms) with the love, humor, and chaos of growing up.

The way she describes the landscapes? I could practically feel the heat of Cali and see the streets as they drove through town, the drug wars lurking quietly in the background. And her family? Totally unforgettable. Her dad trying to keep his cool (and her discovering his limits), the warmth of her grandparents, and that hilarious lizard-in-the-bedroom moment all add up to something special. It’s heartfelt, funny, and full of those quiet truths that linger long after the last page.

[Anna · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sonia Daccarett's story moves between the personal and the political in a deeply intimate and richly detailed exploration of identity, family heritage and belonging. It's an immersive memoir that tells the story of the daughter of a Jewish mother and Christian Palestinian father growing up in a turbulent Colombia in the 1980s. The writing is beautiful and rich, the pacing felt a little uneven at times but it's a compelling, thoughtful memoir that lingers. An honest reflection on how our identities are shaped by both histories we inherit and the worlds we inhabit.

Thanks to NetGalley and She Writes Press for the opportunity to read this ARC.

[Jessica Hicks · Rating 3 out of 5]

I can see how it would be difficult to have no cultural identity because your parents simply refuse to discuss it. However, I did not need over half of the book to be about Sonia’s lack of religion. We don’t get to the underlying tribalistic tension between her parents and the violence of the drug war until the last 100 pages of the book. This was the reason I read the book at all so I was pretty checked out of the story having to wait so long to get there. Thank you for the gifted book, BookSparks.

[Jennifer Lang · Rating 5 out of 5]

A beautiful childhood memoir of a girl growing up in Cali, Columbia who yearns to be like everybody else but knows she's different. Her mother is Jewish of Eastern European descent and her father is Arab Christian from Bethlehem; every time she asks them who they are, what they believe, their answer "Nothing" frustrates her, only othering her even more. The writing is as lush as the setting and in sharp contrast to the political backdrop and violence of the 70s and 80s.

[EM · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5
This was a really fast read for me so I enjoyed the flow and writing but I felt that it was incomplete
The author spends so much time talking about her lack of religion and identity but then there is no follow up on where she ends up as an adult for a topic that shaped her so much

[Kimberly · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thank you to the publisher for the opportunity to read The Roots of the Guava Tree: Growing Up Jewish and Arab in Colombia by Sonia Daccarett. And thank you to the author, She Writes Press, and NetGalley for the gifted ARC. This isn’t my usual genre, so it took me a bit longer to finish, but I’m so glad I stuck with it. This memoir offers a layered, thoughtful, and deeply personal portrait of identity, family silence, and growing up amid both internal and national conflict. What starts as one girl’s attempt to understand her roots quietly unfolds into something much more profound—a meditation on how culture, trauma, and displacement shape not only individuals, but generations.

From the beginning, it’s clear that Sonia’s story doesn’t fit into any neat box. Her mother is Jewish, her father Christian Palestinian, and yet neither side wants to fully claim or explain those identities. Sonia, inquisitive and observant, keeps asking questions. What does it mean when your grandparents speak Hebrew and Arabic but your parents say your family is “nothing”? What does it mean to grow up with a legacy of exile from Bethlehem, Russia, and the Ottoman Empire, yet be told not to look too closely? The disconnect between what Sonia sees and what she’s told becomes the emotional engine of the book. There’s a quiet desperation in her need to understand who she is and where she comes from, and that longing is something I think many readers—especially those from mixed or immigrant backgrounds—will relate to deeply.

But this isn’t just a book about identity—it’s also about place, and Colombia plays a major role in Sonia’s story. Her descriptions of the natural world—the guava trees, the lush countryside outside Cali—are beautiful, but they’re never romanticized. The setting is constantly shifting underfoot as the rise of drug cartels, kidnappings, and political instability creeps into everyday life. One of the things I found most effective was how Daccarett contrasts the innocence of childhood with the brutal reality of the world around her. A school trip might be interrupted by a shooting. A family gathering could be overshadowed by news of another disappearance. There’s a subtle dread that builds, and it reflects the larger theme of instability—not just in her country, but in her own family.

Daccarett’s writing is quiet, deliberate, and often understated. There’s no flashiness or overexplanation here. Instead, she lets the reader sit with the confusion and discomfort that shaped her upbringing. The emotional impact sneaks up on you. One of the most powerful threads in the memoir is how events halfway across the world—like the 1982 Israeli invasion of Lebanon—ripple into her home in Colombia, exposing old wounds and loyalties. Sonia begins to see how her parents’ silence isn’t just about avoiding the past; it’s about protecting themselves from the pain of it. There’s a scene where family tension boils over at the dinner table while the TV broadcasts news from the Middle East, and it captures in a few pages what entire books try to explain: how personal and political trauma are never separate.

Another thing I appreciated is how Daccarett doesn’t try to tie everything up with a bow. There’s no dramatic breakthrough, no big “aha” moment where she suddenly finds clarity. Instead, the book stays true to reality—messy, unresolved, but deeply human. Her choice to leave Colombia in search of answers isn’t framed as an escape, but as an act of survival and self-discovery. The ending felt both open and complete, which is a rare balance to strike in memoir.

This book is not a fast read, and it’s not always an easy one. But it’s honest, intimate, and beautifully observed. Daccarett gives voice to a type of experience that doesn’t often make it to the page: the hybrid child of multiple legacies, trying to make sense of conflicting truths in a country tearing itself apart. It asks readers to be patient, to pay attention, and to accept that sometimes the answers we want aren’t the ones we get.

If you’re someone who loves memoirs that grapple with identity, family complexity, cultural tension, and political backdrop, this one is absolutely worth your time. Even if you don’t normally read memoirs like this—like me—you might find yourself surprised by how much it resonates. The Roots of the Guava Tree doesn’t shout, but it stays with you. It’s a quiet triumph of storytelling.

[Sybil Wyatt · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sonia beckons us into the world of her youth in tropical, tumultuous Cali, where her parents are consumed by the need to keep her safe—from the past, present, and future. Her mother and father employ an array of tactics for doing this, as modern parents from two old cultures. The combined effect casts an oppressive pall over Sonia’s childhood. The weight of unanswered questions is a constant.

To me, the poignancy of this story lies in Sonia’s ability to interpret her parents’ motivations and quirks with tenderness now, in her own adulthood. And the pleasure of resolution arrives via the deceptively simple conclusion she susses out from the ambiguities of her past.

The characters in The Roots of the Guava Tree are both strong and vulnerable. Funny and flawed. Mainly, authentic. Sonia has a knack for observing life’s details, then revealing their deeper truths with wisdom and cheek. For me, that’s the secret sauce of this memoir.