My Other Side

So I bet you are tired of me talking about Nicaragua, right? Well, allow me to introduce to you the other half of my nationality. My father was born in the capital of the Dominican Republic called Santo Domingo. Growing up, I was a huge daddy’s girl. Every weekend my dad would pick me up from grandmother’s house and take me to his mother’s house, where he lived. My grandmother’s house was always filled with laughter and cooking. I remember sitting on a stool and watching my grandmother stir the rice and peas as I gaze in awe. Most of my days were spent creating new adventures with my cousins. I had about 7 cousins, all living in one roof. While my dad was away with my grandmother fixing some appliances, I would be playing baseball with a stick and some bottle caps. Those were the best times I can imagine. There was no need for phones or internet. My cousins and I would go to the baseball field, eat empanadas, and play ball. When my dad finally picked me up, we would go on the best father-daughter trips. One trip involved him taking me to his homeland, the gorgeous Dominican Republic. Santo Domingo, being the oldest European city in the country, just screams out colonial times. I met my aunts and uncles for the first time and they made me feel right at home. We visited the Catedral Primada de América, Cathedral of America, a cathedral dedicated to St. Mary of the Incarnation. It is the oldest cathedral in America and consists of amazing, jaw-dropping architecture. That was the day I grew to know more about my culture and more about where I come from. I can proudly represent both cultures and continue to teach others about my land.