I grew up in Artemisa, Cuba with my dad, Valentín Puentes, and brother, Adonis Puentes. We are a Cuban-Canadian, music-performing family. I love looking out my window at my town as families everywhere are playing their own music. My dad would always take my brother and go out in the city and sing until the sun rose. He would play the guitar while my brother just sang. I always wanted to be a part of their duo but other Cubans said I wasn’t as good a singer as them.

My dad told me “Don’t listen to them, one day, you will be better than us.” My dad encouraged and taught me how to play the guitar. I started with the beginning chords and practiced for 8 hours straight. I would always show up for dinner late and I would be in pain from my fingers being covered in blisters. My dad was okay with me being late because he knew how badly I wanted to be in his band. I kept practicing and on my 13th birthday my dad invited me to be in his band. I immediately said yes and pumped my fist in delight. Our first concert was gonna be in three days and we changed our name to the Puentes Trio.

The sun was up and I was ready to practice until midnight.. “Buenos dias” I told my dad as I grabbed my breakfast and ran upstairs to practice. My brother knew I was going to practice so he followed me up the stairs and into my room. He was ready to practice with me, something we never did before because he thought I didn’t want him to, I disagreed. I ate my breakfast as quickly as possible and started playing my guitar. My dad heard us and he came up and joined us with his strong voice and skillful guitar playing. We did this every morning and every night until the concert.

It's 10:00 p.m., ten minutes until we go on stage, and I am so scared. My dad came and told me we will be great, then he handed me a big, metal, bright guitar. “What's this?” I said. He told me to play this like my guitar but that it will give us more flair. We walked on stage and I looked over the thousands of people in the audience all standing in the streets of Cuba. My dad started counting, “Uno, dos, tres, cuatro” I then hit a chord and it sounded so cool, like my guitar but 20 times louder. I flashed a smile at my dad and we started singing a song that my grandfather made when he was young. We played until the sun came up and I had never been happier with my family than ever.

It was 3:00 a.m. now and I asked my dad when our next concert was going to be. He said that we were going on tour in Canada!!! I was so excited and quickly ran upstairs and packed my bags with all of my clothes, sheet music, and I packed my guitar in its soft, velvet case and ran downstairs, asking when we were going to leave. My brother came downstairs, unaware that we were going to Canada. “Why are you packing?” he asked me. “We are going on tour in Canada!” I shouted dancing around them flailing my arms like a lawn sprinkler.

I waited patiently at the door for my dad, and brother to come down the stairs. After my dad and brother packed we left for the airport and arrived at our gate. I was trembling in excitement and anxiety, I had no idea what it was going to be like, I was just thankful for the experience. They called our number and we walked down the long, dark, cold hallway onto the plane. We found our seats and we buckled up. After 30 minutes of preparation I felt the rumble of the plane speeding down the runway, making me jump and grab on to my seat.

“Welcome to Canada, Thanks for flying with us.” said the man in the cockpit. We stepped off the plane and into a big airport. We found our way out and got a cab to our hotel. “Excited for tomorrow?” my dad asked my brother and I. “Absolutely!” we said in unison. I got into bed and fell asleep quickly because of the long day, dreaming about our first big concert.

I woke up, ate breakfast, and asked my dad when we were going to leave for the concert. I couldn’t wait, I had to know. “In 2 hours.” he said. While we waited, we practiced until the people next door told us to shut up. It’s finally time to leave, my hand was shaking and I felt sick because I was so nervous. “We are gonna be great, just play like we did at home.” my brother said. “Let's make home proud!” I said high-fiving him. We walked on stage and there were millions of people staring at us. “Uno, dos, tres, cuatro!” my dad yelled. I struck my guitar and played my heart out. The music stopped and the audience immediately burst into applause. I hugged my dad and my brother and thanked my dad for taking us on this life altering experience.

We finished our final song and the tour was over. “Thanks dad.” I said, crying. “Your welcome Alex. Good job proving to everyone in Cuba that doubted you that you are the best singer of us all.” he said, smiling his big smile that meant he was proud. “I love you son.” he said. “I love you too dad.”