Thoughts of a quarantined immigrant


This is our view during all this time of quarantine, we live in an 18th floor and we can only look at the horizon hoping that all this will happen soon. This is my home because I lived here for over a year.

But I miss my true home in Margarita, my house full of childhood memories, of daily experiences. I thank Colombia because it opened the doors for me but as a stranger my insular terroir ... Someday I will return to my home ...

I think that many immigrants must feel identified because the fear of being evicted for not having money to pay the rent or not having for food. Or in the worst case, get sick with the covid-19 and die in a land that is not yours. It is not easy to be an immigrant.

The daily life is not even a major concern, I already have more than a month without working and many see me calm but my brain does not stop thinking how we will do? How much longer will this take?

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