As I stood there in the park, I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. My Japanese mother had always been a bit of a traditionalist, and she never quite understood why I loved Brazil so much. She'd often joke that I was half-Brazilian because of my love for the country's vibrant culture and infectious rhythms. But little did she know, my true love affair began when I discovered the beauty of Brazilian beaches and the way the sun-kissed skin seemed to glow like gold in the sunlight.
I remember spending hours as a child listening to my mother's stories about her own childhood in Japan. She'd speak of the snow-capped mountains and the tranquil gardens, of the delicate cherry blossoms that bloomed every spring. I was enchanted by her tales, but it wasn't until I traveled back to Japan with her when I was 16 that I truly understood what she meant by 'home'. The smell of incense wafting through the temples, the taste of steaming hot ramen, and the way the light danced across the rice fields – it all felt so… me.
I returned to Brazil after a few months in Japan, feeling like I'd finally found my place between two worlds. My mother would often say that I was a reflection of her own mixed heritage, but for me, being half-Japanese and half-Brazilian was more than just a label – it was a way of life. It meant embracing the beauty of
