It doesn’t matter if you’re from the highlands or the Caribbean. From the Southern Cone or the
hot lands. Whether you say “che,” “pana,” “wey,” “parce,” or “mano.” Whether you eat arepas, tortillas, empanadas, or chipa.
Whether you dance cumbia, salsa, cueca, or merengue.
There’s something that beats the same in all of us.
A way of welcoming others. Of showing the way with your mouth before your hands. Of squeezing lemon on everything (EVERYTHING) and sitting down to eat rice even if there’s nothing else. Of walking with the lightbulb as if it were part of your body.
Sing without worry, without shame, from the heart, as if no one else were there.
“The paths of lifeee aren’t what I thought they’d be…”
“Owww, that really hurts…”
Because there is no heartache, no bitterness, no joy that a Latino cannot feel deep within their very being. They feel with their hearts in a way that few understand and that no one can take away.
They’ve said it all. The most despicable terms, the most reductive labels—because that’s all they ever talk about; it must be because it sells better. Without ever mentioning how beautiful that culture, those people, and those landscapes really are. Everything that lies beyond the noise others have chosen to create.
More than 500 million people sharing a common history, a single language, and a biodiversity found nowhere else on the planet. Rhythms that transcend boundaries, and flavors that are the envy of the world.
One people.
Being far away makes it feel stronger than ever.
Each person carries their own culture, one that varies from region to region, from accent to accent, from recipe to recipe. But away from home, there’s no greater family than two Latinos coming together. Sharing a beer—a “birra,” “chela,” or “pola”—while listening to Argentine rock, a Cuban bolero, or a Colombian vallenato. The warmth of a conversation they missed without even knowing it.
Distance reveals what we had in common.
La Catalina was born out of that—out of the perspective of someone who isn’t from here but who learned to love this culture more than they ever expected. Out of an outsider’s nostalgia transformed into shared pride. Out of the desire to say: This belongs to you, and it’s beautiful.
