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#cultura
Here is a list of things that are bigger, greater than all of the world's oceans, bigger than the storms in the seas, than all the islands in the Pacific, connecting all of us together, being one great channel of culture... Telenovela, chismes, galeones, teleserye, chismis, galleon. ๐˜š๐˜ช๐˜ฃ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ฏ๐˜ช ๐˜“๐˜ข๐˜ฑ๐˜ถ-๐˜“๐˜ข๐˜ฑ๐˜ถ, ๐˜ฃ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ฏ๐˜ช ๐˜”๐˜ข๐˜จ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ. ๐˜Œ๐˜ด๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ฅ๐˜ข ๐˜ฏ๐˜ช ๐˜”๐˜ข๐˜จ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ? ๐˜’๐˜ข๐˜ฉ๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ถ๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฌ๐˜ข๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ. Sangrรญa? No, sangre de Magallanes. ๐˜•๐˜ชรฑ๐˜ฐ๐˜ด, ๐˜ฒ๐˜ถ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ข ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ป ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ป๐˜ข๐˜ณ ๐˜ค๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ ๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด. And believe it or not; Bulerรญas, danza, bachata, habaneras. How do you like your coffee, bebe? Con leche? Bueno. Evaporada and condensada? Tequila, San Miguel, Mezcal, Corona, Cerveza, Serbesa, Cerrado, Sarado. ๐˜ˆ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฎ๐˜จ๐˜ข ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ข, ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ญ๐˜ถ๐˜ฎ๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ถ๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜บ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ. Actually, how do you like your coffee? ๐˜›๐˜ฆ ๐˜จ๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ข ๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ฒ๐˜ถ๐˜ช๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ข ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜งรฉ? ๐˜š๐˜ช ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ, ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ค๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฒ๐˜ถ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ถ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ๐˜ข ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ต๐˜ถ ๐˜ข๐˜ฎ๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜ฐ. So do you like it hot or con hielo? And of course; Canciones, c/kanta, And nowใ…กreggateon, budots. Gasolina? Aserejรฉ? Macarena? Bad Bunny, being our new Columbus. Playitas, islas, karagatan, nuestro paraรญso. Mas chismes, mas tazas de cafe. How do you think we're so far yet so alike? Of all these things? Con chisme? Claro. So which one first? The juiciest or latest?
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Jul 22, 2024
Jul 22, 2024 at 4:20 AM UTC
Telenovela, Chisme, Galeรณn
Here is a list of things that are bigger, greater than all of the world's oceans, bigger than the storms in the seas, than all the islands in the Pacific, connecting all of us together, being one great channel of culture... Telenovela, chismes, galeones, teleserye, chismis, galleon. ๐˜š๐˜ช๐˜ฃ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ฏ๐˜ช ๐˜“๐˜ข๐˜ฑ๐˜ถ-๐˜“๐˜ข๐˜ฑ๐˜ถ, ๐˜ฃ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ฏ๐˜ช ๐˜”๐˜ข๐˜จ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ. ๐˜Œ๐˜ด๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ฅ๐˜ข ๐˜ฏ๐˜ช ๐˜”๐˜ข๐˜จ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ? ๐˜’๐˜ข๐˜ฉ๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ถ๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฌ๐˜ข๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ. Sangrรญa? No, sangre de Magallanes. ๐˜•๐˜ชรฑ๐˜ฐ๐˜ด, ๐˜ฒ๐˜ถ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ข ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ป ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ป๐˜ข๐˜ณ ๐˜ค๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ ๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด. And believe it or not; Bulerรญas, danza, bachata, habaneras. How do you like your coffee, bebe? Con leche? Bueno. Evaporada and condensada? Tequila, San Miguel, Mezcal, Corona, Cerveza, Serbesa, Cerrado, Sarado. ๐˜ˆ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฎ๐˜จ๐˜ข ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ข, ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ญ๐˜ถ๐˜ฎ๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ถ๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜บ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ. Actually, how do you like your coffee? ๐˜›๐˜ฆ ๐˜จ๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ข ๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ฒ๐˜ถ๐˜ช๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ข ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜งรฉ? ๐˜š๐˜ช ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ, ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ค๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฒ๐˜ถ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ถ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ๐˜ข ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ต๐˜ถ ๐˜ข๐˜ฎ๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜ฐ. So do you like it hot or con hielo? And of course; Canciones, c/kanta, And nowใ…กreggateon, budots. Gasolina? Aserejรฉ? Macarena? Bad Bunny, being our new Columbus. Playitas, islas, karagatan, nuestro paraรญso. Mas chismes, mas tazas de cafe. How do you think we're so far yet so alike? Of all these things? Con chisme? Claro. So which one first? The juiciest or latest?
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quiero traerte a mi paรญs, y enseรฑarte lo que me hace feliz. quiero llevarte a los bares bonitos donde cantan y arman jaleo. quiero pasar por debajo de las pรฉrgolas preciosas del parque con mis manos colgando de donde dobla tu brazo. quiero llevarte a la iglesiaย ย  y bailar y alabar contigo. pero lamento que no serรก posible. es solamente un sueรฑo que veo yo solita. porque tรบ estรกs pensando en tu propio paraรญso y no creo que me incluya. si no, me lo dirรญas. duele querer algo con alguien que no desea lo mismo. dueleย ย  ver alguien tan cerca de ti que piensa que estรกsย ย  demasiado lejos de รฉl. no sรฉ cรณmo la gente lo hacenย ย  cuando se enamoranย ย  en otro paรญs. la mente se queja,ย ย  el corazรณn lamenta,ย ย  y el alma llora del dolor.
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Jul 10, 2019
Jul 10, 2019 at 6:45 PM UTC
paraรญsos opuestos.
The rooster sings to the sun, answering the call is the light that embraces all. All at once the birds sing their own song. Awaken by mother's sweet voice. "It's time to go" she says. She hands me aย ย green cubeta con maiz. The corn's color is purple and white instantly I fall in love with its kind The cold blue morning gives me chills. I carry the bucket to my grandmother's house. With her mandil and her braided hair, she sits by the comal making tortillas. "Good morning abueltia" with a smile on my face. "Good morning m'ija" she replies. I keep walking carrying the heavy bucket. A small room next to a store crowded with senoras. Their rebozos around their heads and arms and buckets in hand. I feel so small so young but inside I'm proud. I wait in line as I greet and make small talk. These ladies have the nicest smiles. My turn, I grab my cubeta and proceed to the molino. My arms are too little. A lady approaches and helps me load the molino. I watch in awe as the grains turn in masa. I bend down and collect it. "En una bolita" the lady tells me to shape it. I nod and continue to make it. Gray like the color of my grandma's hair. soft like my mother's hand. I fill the bucket with the masa. I thank las senoras and head back to mi casa. I hand the bucket to my mom who was milking la vaca. She starts the comal and gets the cal. Her hands slapping the masa like she was clapping. Perfect big round warm tortillas. I was a little girl that helped her make them. A little girl that still remembers.
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Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 5:24 AM UTC
Tortilla Memories
The rooster sings to the sun, answering the call is the light that embraces all. All at once the birds sing their own song. Awaken by mother's sweet voice. "It's time to go" she says. She hands me aย ย green cubeta con maiz. The corn's color is purple and white instantly I fall in love with its kind The cold blue morning gives me chills. I carry the bucket to my grandmother's house. With her mandil and her braided hair, she sits by the comal making tortillas. "Good morning abueltia" with a smile on my face. "Good morning m'ija" she replies. I keep walking carrying the heavy bucket. A small room next to a store crowded with senoras. Their rebozos around their heads and arms and buckets in hand. I feel so small so young but inside I'm proud. I wait in line as I greet and make small talk. These ladies have the nicest smiles. My turn, I grab my cubeta and proceed to the molino. My arms are too little. A lady approaches and helps me load the molino. I watch in awe as the grains turn in masa. I bend down and collect it. "En una bolita" the lady tells me to shape it. I nod and continue to make it. Gray like the color of my grandma's hair. soft like my mother's hand. I fill the bucket with the masa. I thank las senoras and head back to mi casa. I hand the bucket to my mom who was milking la vaca. She starts the comal and gets the cal. Her hands slapping the masa like she was clapping. Perfect big round warm tortillas. I was a little girl that helped her make them. A little girl that still remembers.
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