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2 months ago
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My father passed away a year ago, and I felt a deep well of depression, an inescapable draw that tainted every action, every color of feeling, that sapped my very soul.

I had booked a trip to Cartagena. I hadn't realized that I arrived on Fat Tuesday, and I don't think that it would have mattered.

Arriving there, bathing in the insubstantial "joy d'vivre," the sinking feeling lifted.

I remember that well, and it's cure. I love Latin America for this reason.

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