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We are Canaries. May Magazine

We are Canaries. May Magazine


I am from a land with a flag that carries the yellow of the sun, the blue of the sea, and the white purity of the heart and soul of my good people.
I am from a land full of magic, from islands that were born from a jubilant explosion of volcanoes on a day when the Atlantic was celebrating.
I am of fire, lava, fertile land and saltpeter, which tans my skin and even my life.
I am from a land whose gastronomy makes any palate fall in love, which gives you the gift of the enjoyment of each of its corners, starting from the interior until reaching any place on the coast.
As a lover of letters I have to say that I am from a land with a wonderful dialect, a very rich vocabulary and a very sweet accent, I would even say musical.
I am from a resilient land, which has spoken to the fire face to face. I am from the land of the Canarian pine, which resists stoically or regenerates when it has been consumed by flames; it is capable of regrowth even losing all its leaves and branches. I am from a land where no one resists and closes their eyes when listening to the trill of a canary.
I am from a land where sighs taste sweet, where bananas have moles and freckles, and are the tastiest there are. I am from a land where we do not go to parties but to belingo, we pour some Canarian wines in the shade, with artisan cheeses, smoked, cured or with paprika; sponge cake, almogrote and olives; potatoes with mojo, scalded gofio, shots of honey rum and, for dessert, a bienmesabe or ambrosia.
I’m from a land where we like to go for a swim on the beach when it’s sunny, we talk to anyone and we want to have the people we care about always by our side.
I am from a land where you can be tenderly called “my boy” or “my girl” no matter how old you are, and the best way to do things is by hitting them. If they talk to me about my land, my eyes shine like the reflection of the sun in the sea, like the light of mountains of salt or like the gold of the dunes at noon.
I am from a land that produces magua if you are living abroad, that gives you goosebumps if you listen to a folía. That ties you to her with a tricolor thread, to her sea and her eight hearts for life. May thirtieth of any year.
Happy Canary Islands Day!