Pronounced ve-nə-ˈzwā-lə
Because my country is a WHOLE lot more than a dude with a red beret, a big mouth and a wart on his forehead.
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I recently spent a week at Morrocoy, one of our local treasures, over at the northwestern tip of Venezuela. I fell in love all over again with my country. (Not to mention my beautiful bride-to-be). It’s damn worth fighting for.
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