Summer in Caracas

By Manuela Karim

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Some sights and smells stay with you forever, and you don’t even realize it. Growing up young in Caracas, the capital city of Venezuela, boasting too many people with too many lives and too many manic drivers, all I ever smelled was the salt water of the beach. I swear to this day I genuinely believe I was meant to be a mermaid (but that’s a whole other story). There’s something about those waves that liberates you internally. It’s almost like the sea with its vastness kind of shows you how small you are in the world, so why even stress it; why even stress anything? And of course, I mean, that in itself is always much easier said than done, but when you’re sitting in the sand it’s a luxury you will gladly take, trust me. I’ve always felt at home by the water. There’s something about little sand dollars and palm trees and fresh coconut ice cream that I immediately relate to. Is that strange? Self-identifying with a place? Drinking chicha by the beach is something everyone should do, at least once. A fermented maize beverage doesn’t sound too appealing, but just let it touch your lips and then get back to me. In essence, it is important (really important) to find your beach, you know, your place to feel as you are. It sounds cliché but I can’t think of another word that sums it but better than ‘free’. Find a place where you can feel free.

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