It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Actually, considering La Revolucion, it was really the worst of times, but the stories of my parents' and grandparents' lives in Cuba seemed different to me. I'm a true-born Miamian that identifies as a Cuban-American even though I've never been to Cuba. The nostalgia of my family has become my nostalgia in away, but I'm also a pretty modern American woman in another sense.
I'm now breaking the mold, going further than anyone in my family has ever gone before: Literally 7,467 miles away from home. For ONE YEAR.
Destination: Japan
Can I conquer it? Only time and my cafetera will tell...
yes
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