How it began

I’ve always imagined myself living somewhere else. Anywhere else, really, rather than Sweden. It started with my father telling me stories about his neighborhood Caballito in Buenos Aires. Like many children of immigrants,   I always felt like I was living with one foot in my father’s country. The country of his memories. And as I grew up, those memories slowly became my own. Until I felt like I could feel those cobblestone streets under my feet,  the smell of rain in a  city where I had never been.

I was in my twenties when I first visited Buenos Aires (which is a whole other post), and realized that my heart really didn’t belong where it was born. But the first country I would live in outside of Sweden wouldn’t be Argentina…

Long, dark and cold Nordic winters made my husband and I long for his father’s country. And so as I was on maternity leave and my husband had an online job we decided to do it. Go live in Santo Domingo. With a 10 month old baby. And that, is where the story begins.

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