Personal Narrative: My Spanish Heritage

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It was a sunny windless day; I was walking, suffocating, gasping for fresh air. A euphoric crowd invaded the streets asphyxiated by the steamy summer. People were shouting while frantically waving their colorful flags to celebrate the victories of their soccer teams. I watched them, surprised, intrigued and confused. I could not understand how they felt. It seems that it is impossible for humans to imagine a feeling that they have never experienced and I have never been gratified with national pride since I have always been a foreigner. I was born in Russia, and even there I felt like I did not belong because of my Spanish heritage. However, I was used to the intense culture, militaristic way of thinking, rough weather, and straightforward

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