Latinos are some OG’s when it comes to sustainability. Opening the metal galleta container only to find sewing needles, threads, and buttons. Lentejas o frijoles in the butter container. Resourceful repurposing.
Voiceless, How Language Defined my Homecoming
Walking through the streets of Tunisia no one looked at me weird, like a tourist or like I didn’t belong. Instead, I looked just like them. I was from here, after all. I am Tunisian. Well, that confidence in belonging soon wavered.
From Here or There; Where is Home for Third Culture Kids?
Where is home, after all?
Mama Africa Welcoming me Home: Sfax, Tunisia
Hello Hola Aslema I am writing to you from the motherland, Mama Africa. It has been a week since I’ve returned home, that is, the land where I was born. I left Tunisia as a baby and it took 27 years for me to be able to return. Yet when I arrived, this land didn’tRead the Post
“But You’re White…” Why Your Perception of Me Doesn’t Erase My Heritage
I have always been a cultural enigma. No one ever knew where I was “from,” or the more popular question, “what are you?”. Because “human being” is never an acceptable answer.
Si Si, Colombia! Why Colombia’s History Promotes Tourism Today
No Colombia is not all about cocaine, guerrillas, and Pablo Escobar! It’s common misconceptions like these which often prevent, if not deter tourism to Colombia. While in the 80’s, yes Colombia was plagued with drug and guerrilla warfare. Conditions which made life dangerously impossible. With the rise of drug bosses like Pablo Escobar or GriseldaRead the Post
Healing Trauma with Travel: Why I’m Alive Today
Ten years ago, I should have been dead. I tried not once, not twice, I tried more times than I️ care to remember. Since I was about 8 years old I remember having symptoms of depression and feelings of despair. In Latino households, mental health is not openly talked about. The general consensus is se te vaRead the Post
No Te Puedes Ir Sola: Why Abuelita is Wrong about Solo Travel
“Tu no te puedes ir sola….” Infamous words of my Abuela. Whether it be to the store late at night, or across the world on my travels, I should never go alone. “¿Y Porqué?” – frustrated that I was always being told this. “Por que eres una niña.” Why does my gender suddenly make me incapableRead the Post
Dreaming in Cuban: How it Felt Going Home to a Place I Never Knew
Growing up in NYC, I used to hear all my friends talk about upcoming trips to “their country” during school breaks. I never had that luxury. We could never go back. My mother was born in Havana Cuba in the 1960’s. Our family, a rather large one, originated from Camagüey on the eastern side ofRead the Post