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Pitch: Rattlesnake Women

Growing up in the 90s in Hollywood, FL, I didn’t understand why I was the only 4th grader with a mustache, or why every Christmas I looked forward to watching my grandmother gut a 100-lb pig with her bare hands. I set out to get these answers (and more) on my recent trip to Havana, made in secret to avoid the backlash from my very vocally opposed grandmother. For her, Cuba had sunk and vanished underwater the day she got on a plane in August 1969. For me, visiting Cuba was the key to understanding the belligerently irrational yet fiercely strong women who raised me.

I think this would be a poignant yet humorous piece for the Hairpin's Travel section, particularly because the national understanding of Cuban culture and Cuban people is largely misunderstood. I work with your past contributor Stassa Edwards at the Miami New Times, where I mainly cover arts and culture and the bizarre occurrences inherent to a city infested with Cubans, with a dedicated focus on (you guessed it) Cuban culture. You can read some of my greatest hits here.

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