And it’s been 12 years since I boarded that one-way flight—12 years living far from my country and my family. Twelve years ago, at that airport in Bogotá—and without knowing it—it would be the last time I hugged my grandparents. I haven’t been able to say goodbye to them either, although I always carry them in my heart. Back then, I had no idea what would happen when I arrived. I didn’t know the language. I didn’t know anyone. I was alone on the other side of the Atlantic. And well, here I am—still unsure about many things, but at least now I can say “Hello, how are you?” in Russian. I have a lot of stories—some good, some not so much. Over these years, I’ve also had the chance to see many places in this country and discover that, despite everything, there are good people here. Lately, I’ve been

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