Ok, where was I? In 2002 my twin brothers travelled to U.S. for two months. They had a scholarship in a soccer academy. During that time, they stayed with Pedro, a beloved family friend.
In 2003, because we have Spanish blood from my dad’s side, he decided to give us the nationality, just in case, and to do the paperwork to get all of us the Spanish Passport too. At the end of that same year, my sister Micaela and her boyfriend Hernán, got married and moved to Spain together, on their one-year wedding anniversary. If my dad hadn’t done the work to give us the Spanish documents, the trip then wouldn’t have been posible. Everything just turned out that way, causally. Crazy, huh?
In 2005 we were spending summer in our house in Cordoba, Argentina, like we do on every beginning of the year. During our stay my dad decided we were moving back to Argentina -seven years later-. It was great news because we all loved Cordoba madly. We left out suitcases already in the house and went back to Paraguay for two weeks because one of my brothers failed on few exams and had to take those tests in February. So whilst he studied and took the tests we were going to organize the rest of the things and go back right after.
But…during those two weeks, the possibility of moving to Spain at the end of the year arised. Micaela has settled there and that makes it much more factible. My dad decided so because it was for my brothers’ soccer careers best. Besides he is Spanish and had always dreamt about living there. Saying that: By the middle of 2006 we were already living in Andalusia, Spain.
What’s my conclusion? Maybe you’d think this thought is silly, but I know that my brother failing those exams, -event that made us go back to Paraguay, delaying our moving to Argentina- it’s what triggered the trip to Spain. Can you see a bit better now, how these crazy causalities work? In that moment it felt like a huge bummer, but hadn’t he failed we’d have stayed in Cordoba, and that crazy Spain idea would have never come up. That was a little part of the causalities that led us to Europe.
What happened in Spain? The answer is: A lot. I will tell you few things about it…
During my childhood in Paraguay there were moments where due to the continous insults towards me and my brothers at school, we felt discriminated for being Argentinians. I had always dreamt about seeing Europe, but I must admit I was terrified we’d be bullyed again and with more intensity given that we were latins in Europe.
Throughout the years I learned ignorant people speak only because they can. That’s the kind of people that inyects fear in your life. Why? Just because they have nothing good to add to the matter, so they don’t look like ignorants on the subject they talk bullsh*t instead. -Little they know, their ignorance shines brighter that way-. People told me I was going to suffer, that European people treat Latins awfully, that they are xenophobics… Spanish people this, European people that, blablabla.
The question is: What do they know? They are not there, probably never even set foot in Europe. How would they know how it feels like to live in Europe? To pointless comments, turn a deaf ear. So many negatives comments I’ve received out of fear or ignorance, that I became fearful prior to moving there. I had contradictory feelings whether I wanted to move to Spain or not, thanks to life I had no other choice but to go.
And you know what? Those two years in Spain were the best ones of my adolescence. People were incredible, cool, friendly, upfront and really eager to learn about my country and culture. I was pleasantly surprised. I felt more like home in Europe, on the other side of the world, than in my own continent. Is it a matter of culture? Definitely.
Imagine though, what a shame it’d be if -because of the fear the peope injected in me- Had I decided to stay in my comfort zone instead...

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