Ever since I was a little girl I wanted to see the world.
You see, I had far from a perfect childhood. For several years my mom was sick so I spent a lot of time with other family members. This included my grandma.
Grandma was, and is, an extraordinary lady. She was the oldest daughter of a couple of Russian immigrants who arrived in Argentina in the early 20th century. Ever since she was a little girl she loved art, but that wasn´t really an option for her as she had to have a job to “make money”, so she became a notary. She didn´t like it but she made good money, money that she invested in seeing the world. She travelled to China in the 60’s as well as to the URSS. She went to South East Asia, before it was “cool” and she did all of this alone, barely speaking any English. My grandma is a badass.
When I was a little girl she would always bring me presents from remote parts of the world and I would then look on my map to see where these places were. I especially remember the chocolate covered ants she brought from Colombia and the beautiful kaleidoscope she bought me in France.
My dad noticed that I was curious and bought me a huge map and a poster with different flags. I had memorized practically every capital city in the world by the time I was 10.
This was also the year my grandma took me on my first big trip. The two of us went to New York alone, around Christmas time. It was such a magical trip, there were Christmas lights everywhere and we walked around the whole city. She took me to the MoMa and I became obsessed with Frida Kahlo. Years later I would have my first job as a museum guide, working on a Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera exhibition. Sometimes life makes so much sense.
When I finished high school I knew all I wanted to do was travel, but of course I had no money. I decided I would work and save up until I could see the world, and so I did for several years.
When I was 21 I followed a boy all the way to Canada, later on he would break my heart into a million pieces but hey, I had found my one true love, the world. After that I moved to Europe to work and slowly and thoroughly explore this wonderful continent.
My grandma in her late 70s had a minor heart attack and I wasn’t there, I felt like shit. I saw her some weeks later, she was doing much better but she told me she was scared and didn’t know if she would ever travel again. This broke my heart because I know that she, just like me, is happiest when travelling.
The following summer I saw my grandma again, this time in Paris. We walked around the city just like in New York and she told me she was happy I was following her footsteps.
You see, I am living my dream, but it's not really mine. I just borrowed it from her.