Miami in 300 Words

Miami in 300 Words

By Martín Rosales

It was a raucous city as people rushed about in their busy lives while the face of a soccer player in a pink jersey towered over them from a billboard. 

This was my first impression of downtown Miami as I walked with my uncle. He had spent all of his life in Santiago, just like the rest of us, when he randomly decided to pack his things and move to the States. Now, about three years later, I decided to pay him a visit.

Instantly, he tried to convince me that Miami was a part of Latin America, but I felt skeptical. Sure, all the vendors spoke Spanish, and all the signs were in Spanish, and Messi — the omnipresent symbol of Spanish culture — could be seen on everything. But this wasn’t Latin America. It was subtle, but something was missing.

“Y’know,” my uncle said as we walked down Flagler Street. “I don’t know what to tell you. The people are mostly Hispanic and everyone speaks Spanish. I don’t know what else could convince you that this is Latino territory.”

I still didn’t buy it. Something was missing. This place may appear to be Latino, but it just wasn’t. 

As we were walking through a large crowd, I felt a hand brush against my ass. Instinctively, I knocked it away as I spun around to find the source.

It was a girl, with tanned skin and dark brown hair. She looked surprised that I noticed what she was doing, and she quickly vanished into the crowd. 

“What just happened?” My uncle asked at my abrupt movement.

“That girl just tried to take my wallet,” I said as I pulled it out of my back pocket to show him. 

My uncle smiled at me. “See? Miami is a part of Latin America.”