4 years in Miami

1.470 days in Miami, alligators at night, teaching my son how to swear in Venezuelan, my current reading slump, what it means to like something on social media, and flowers to cheer me up.

You know you’ve been in Miami for a while when you spot the driver next to you fully dressed in a Santa Claus costume the morning of April 2nd, speeding while snorting something from his left hand, and your genuine reaction is to keep driving, unbothered, as though he were just another male in his forties paying for the lease of a car he cannot afford. Everything is different in this city. This place transforms everyone, whether they like it or not.

It happens slowly, at a speed that proves to be unnoticeable. Yet, one day, you wake up and say things like, “Oh, it’s chilly today,” when you check the weather and it’s 74°F (23° C) outside.

Last week marked four years since we moved to Magic City. The first two years, I was stuck on calling this place the swamp. But for the last two, I’ve been calling it home. The word home has been carved into my DNA due to the fact that my son was born here. I became a mother thousands of miles away from any possible network of family and friends. And so, this jungle of a city was burned into my skin as the background of what it means to be a mother. For example, I seldom have to worry about my son catching a cold outside; that’s what the AC-infused inside is for down here. However, I do have to look out for wild creatures like snakes, iguanas, or spiders.

I cannot decipher in what ways this jungle/swamp/plastic surgery park/city has changed me. But I can say that, whenever I think of going back to Barcelona (or maybe trying a new place), my heart aches. Simply put: I don’t want to leave.

“Can you believe she didn’t like my post?” said the blonde girl to her brunette friend. “I know… She’s such a problematic person, like she’s totally toxic,” said the brunette. “How can she not like any of my posts? She’s such a shitty friend.” I giggled. They must’ve been around twenty-one? two? I’m not sure. It would’ve been such an interesting conversation, had I had the courage to interrupt their discussion to say: