My Big Fat Cuban Family: A Cuban-American Blog

Flip-flop. ;-)

Okay, so we're on our way to the beach on this gorgeous Sunday afternoon in So Cal.

As we're getting onto The Toll Road we spot DOZENS of police officers on motorcycles with their lights all flashing, and behind them there were about four or five patrol cars, with their lights flashing too.  In front of this dizzyingly dramatic display of lights was a Big Black Bus.

Huh?

My first thought was that there was some kind of Seriously-Deranged-Prisoner that was being moved. You know what I'm talking about. It happens all the time in those movies where the Really-Bad-and-Criminally-Insane-Psychotic-Mastermind is getting transported from one Maximum-Security-Facility to another More-Remote-UBER-Maximum-but-More-Remote-Security-Facility, but you know he's already made contact with his Felony-Stupid-yet-Devoted-Henchmen, who will, at any minute, stop the motorcade with some Crazy-Scary-Illegal-Weapons that they've procured from a Jihadist-Terrorist-Organization, and I'm seriously freaking myself out, but I'm already cruising onto the on-ramp and now there are cars behind me...

So, I start kind of slowing down as my adrenaline gets pumping and my imagination has already told my brain that I need to find a place to turn around because you know, any minute now the henchmen will appear on this usually deserted stretch of road.... when suddenly, my terrifying revelry is interrupted by my husband.....

Eric: "That's right! Barak Obama is speaking in Newport Beach tonight!"

WHAT??

I flip-flopped (=D)  from terror to irritation....

Because now this Silly Kaleidoscopic Motorcade was seriously impeding our progress in getting to the beach.

Can you say... Overly Ripe Imagination?  ;-)

Crescent Bay, Laguna Beach.
Where we arrived much later than we intended, and I blame him, but that's not important right now. =D

Why it's hip to be Cuban in So Cal this month

If I am surrounded by Cuban people, food, and music, you can bet that I'm probably with my big, fat, Cuban family or that I'm back in Miami.  So imagine my absolute delight to find myself in this situation yesterday in Laguna Beach (practically in my own backyard, but that's not important right now) and (wait for it,Theater Geeks...) at a Cuban play!

Our local venue for this surge of Cubanism was The Laguna Playhouse. The play was Alexandros written by Melinda Lopez and this weekend was the world premiere.

Abuela, matriarch of a Cuban exile family is celebrating her 75th birthday. Apart from her age (our matriarch is 94), it could have been set at my house with my own family.  And it was laugh-out-loud funny all the way through, with just enough poignancy to make the characters accessible and familiar.

 

Loved. It.
Loved each and every one of the characters.
Loved the way they portrayed "us."
Loved the way the story unraveled.
Loved the familiarity of the Cubanisms.
Loved the Cuban food at the reception afterwards. (from Havana Mania and Porto's)
Loved the Cuban party.
Loved that the final words spoken on stage (by Chaz Mena) were: "Viva, Cuba Libre!"

Each of the five cast members is amazingly talented and I thought it was very cool that the young daughter was played by the lovely Katharine Luckinbill (granddaughter of Cuban royalty, Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz, daughter of Lucie Arnaz).

My Amy Kikita was loving the music at the reception afterwards....




A totally fun Cuban play about a totally fun Cuban family.
They might as well have called it My Big, Fat, Cuban Family.... but, oh wait....

that name was already taken. =D

 

Cuba Nostalgia, Day 1 - I'm already Nostalgic

I already have so many stories I can't wait to share . . .

I am so excited to be here in Miami and to re-connect with my friends from last year.

Here I am with my co-bloggers (is that a word?), the amazing Ziva, the wise-cracking Reinier, and the lovely Amanda.

It was crazy, everyone was hugging, talking, laughing, and (of course) blogging. Adam kept joking about how we were the uber-nerds of Cuba Nostalgia. "When there's all this amazing Cuban food and music, you people BLOG??"
There's Amy (exCUSE me - "Kikita") blogging alongside the focused Henry, and the brilliant Alberto.

I found a new best friend partner-in-crime. . . (Hi Claudia!)

And (can you believe it?)  I have a fan club!  (Okay, well, maybe just A Fan, but that's not important right now. =D) People were actually buying My Big, Fat, Cuban Family Cookbook and asking me to sign it!  This is my fan recipe reader:  Mario along with his beautiful wife.

I feel like such a celebrity (with a very little "c.") =D

Blogging Mom - "Wait! That's ME!"

As if finally getting my cookbook finished and published wasn't enough to make my day....

I was stoked to find this in the Latino Life Notebook section of the Orange County Register.

SHUT. UP.  =D

Cuban Festival 2008

Mi gente!  Kikita here.

Ok, the Cuban Festival in San Dimas was a big party.  It started at 10am and went until 7pm.  There was a whole side of booths serving Cuban Food and as I walked in with my girlfriends, all we could think about was what we would eat first . . . until . . . I heard the congas playing in the distance and any thought of food was immediately replaced by the desperate need to dance.  We brought beach chairs, but I don't remember using them.  I had to be with my people!

I took my video camera, but had the hardest time standing still long enough to film anything really worthwhile.

I. JUST. HAD. TO. DANCE.

And dance I did.  I handed off my camera and away I went.  I was so excited.  I ran into so many people I knew.  (To be honest, I had no idea that I knew so many Cubans!)

I've put together a little video to give you an idea of the great time we had.  Have I mentioned how awesome it was?  Or how much fun I had?  When Oscar de Leon came out it was the end all.  Someone asked him to sing something by "El Benny" and he totally did.  He said, "How about Santa Isabel de Las Lajas?"  The crowd went wild.  Then he said, "Uh-oh, we haven't rehearsed it.  How does it start?"  The whole crowd started singing.  The energy was palpable.  It doesn't get more Cuban than that!

And just as Mom predicted, I ended up starting a conga . . . Cuban-style (which means it goes from right to left instead of the typical single-file line moving forward).  My Conga didn't make the video because we were too busy dancing.  But I think the video still captures the essence of what the day was like (including a couple of appearances by members of Orq. La Farandula). ;-)

 

For my California people - see you there next year!
For my Miami people - see you in two weeks!

So. Cal. PSA

The following is a Public Service Announcement for any of my Cuban readers in the Southern California area.
The 6th annual Cuban festival, Mi Son Cubano, will be held this Sunday, May 4th, 2008 at Frank G. Bonelli Regional Park in San Dimas (right next to Raging Waters).

No, sadly, I won't be there this year. =(
I'm saving my strength for Miami and Cuba Nostalgia in two weeks.
Besides, I'll be in San Diego for a few days on a mini-vacation with my husband. =D
But, my beautiful daughter and co-blogger, Amy (who calls herself Kikita now) will most certainly be there.

She'll be the blond at the head of the conga line. ;-)

"Hey! Isn't that. . .?"

Amy and I were elected to go to the airport last week to pick up my Cuban uncle.
His flight was delayed for over an hour which left us with that much time to people watch (my very, very! favorite spectator sport, but that's not important right now) at John Wayne Airport.

I notice a familiar looking gentleman in the baggage claim area and start thinking out loud . . .
"I always see people that look familiar to me, then a week later I read People magazine and find out that, sure enough, Johnny Depp was indeed at Disneyland the day we were there. Does that ever happen to you?"

Amy is distracted now and hopefully looking around for Johnny Depp, so she wasn't really listening to me. . .

Me: "Hey! I think that's Mike Huckabee."

Amy: "Who?"

Me: "Mike Huckabee, governor of Arkansas, Presidential hopeful.."

Amy: "Sorry, Mom, no media. Don't know what Mike Huckabee looks like and first of all, what would he be doing here if he's not campaigning any more? And secondly, he would probably have lots of security around him and. . ."

I had already grabbed her arm and was dragging her behind me.

Amy: "Mo-omm!"

Me: "Governor Hukabee? Marta Darby, Registered Republican." I extended my hand and he laughed out loud.

He was charming and funny and absolutely delightful. (But then, so was I. =D)

He introduced his wife, Janet and I introduced Amy.

No, he wasn't free to come over for Cuban food because he had other plans for the weekend. (Yes, I asked. =D)

Maybe in about another four years . . .  ;-)

What's that smell?

Alina, my mom and Me. Miami, Florida. 1963

Havana, Cuba. Late 1960. Word was getting around that the new self-appointed governors of the island, those bearded rebels led by Fidel Castro and Che Guevarra were now planning to take away parents' authority over their own children. The parents would no longer have any say as to where or when their children would be educated. There was the possibility that they could be sent to work camps to be used as slave labor or at the age of 15 young men would be conscripted into the armed forces. The point was that those decisions were no longer in the realm of parental authority. They would now be made by the Masters of the Revolution. Shocking, isn't it? What an impossible position to be put in. Cuban parents were in turmoil.

My dad came to a swift and furious conclusion: "I. DON'T. THINK. SO. This stinks of communism."
This disturbing turn of events in our island home and the fact that my brother had just turned 15 was the final straw that caused my parents to come to the cataclysmic decision to leave Cuba.  ". . . until this madness blows over."

Obviously, my parents were right. Our beloved homeland still reeks of communism.

Lucy and Jonathan. California. 2008.

Last week Justice H. Walter Croskey in a Feb. 28 opinion signed by the two other members of the district court ruled that here in California, ". . . parents do not have a constitutional right to home school their children.”

"I. DON'T. THINK. SO. This stinks of communism."

We, along with other homeschooling and Christian families have signed this petition requesting that the Supreme Court of California "depublish" that opinion in order to keep our homeschooling freedom in California and urge any of you that stand with us to do the same.

My parents sacrificed so much for us to be able to be raised in a FREE country.  This opinion is a slap in the face to them and to freedom loving individuals everywhere. To our great sadness, this beautiful state is starting to reek more and more each day.   It's already starting to smell like The People's Republic of California. (heavy sigh)

cross-posted on Babalú.

Next time I ask for CHANGE, I'm going to be more specific

Hello everyone!  It's me, Amy!

So, I know I haven't written in quite some time and you've probably wondered what happened to me . . .

Well, I was stuck at a job that I was miserable in and was always so exhausted after work that I didn't have time to READ let alone WRITE any posts.  Thanks to my praying Mom (and my own prayers) I have been "let go."  This is a blessing and a curse.  I now have the glorious task of finding a new job and plenty of time to do so.

But let me tell you why February is not my favorite month so far . . .

It was a Friday night and I was so happy to have two days off.  I was bummed that I wasn't in MIAMI like my 94 year old abuela.  (She is living the life I wish I had, I swear!)  I stopped by Mom's house to drop something off and had no intention of staying (since she came back sick from HAWAII).  And that's when my world turned upside-down.

Mom:  "Have you heard about your Tio?"

Me:  "Yeah, he was in surgery or something.  I've been praying.  Why?"

Mom:  "He's dying."

Me:  "WHAT??"

(You need to know, this was my favorite uncle we were talking about.  One of the few Cuban men in my life.)

Mom:  "It doesn't look good.  I would go to the hospital, but I'm sick.  Can you go?"

Me:  "Which hospital?"

I called my cousin to let her know I was on my way.  After a 30 minute drive where the tears would not stop flowing, I finally got to the hospital and somehow found my way to my uncle's room.  My cousin had warned me to not freak-out when I saw all the tubes and machines my uncle was hooked-up to, but nothing could have prepared me for it.

I've never had to do a "death bed" scene.  It was just like the movies.  I walked into the room and there was no sign of my family anywhere.  Just my uncle lying there with his eyes closed and hooked up to all kinds of machines.  I sat down and had no idea what to do next.  In the calmest voice I could muster, I asked the nurse what people usually do.  She told me to talk to him like it was a normal day.  So I did.

"Oye Tio, te vez como &$%&!"  ("Uncle, you look pretty. . . umm . . . crappy")  After I'd told him about my week and my plans for the weekend (which included going salsa dancing), I figured it was about time to go . . . but before I left I felt like I had to sing him a song that always reminds me of him.

"Mama you quiero saber, de donde son los cantantes . . ." 

He opened his eyes.  I don't know if he recognized me or not, but he responded to my song.  It took everything in me to not burst into tears (I saved them for when I was back in my car).

Three days later I lost my job.  A week later, fidel decides to bore us all with his retirement plan.  Here I was praying for CAMBIO and the only CHANGE I get is a CHANGE in dictator?  I need to be more specific in my prayers.  So I start praying that God would "set the captives free."  (those are the exact words I've been using in my prayers for CHANGE).

So, here I am, praying for change.  What is the next change that happens?

My uncle died.  He waited until fidel was officially no longer in charge and then Tio was at peace.  And now February 19, 2008 will forever be the day that fidel and my Tio both "resigned."

Looking for comfort, but having no idea where to get it, I opened my Bible for my daily reading.  I am currently in Leviticus (a really boring part of the Old Testament).  And there I found HOPE.  My chapter that day was Leviticus 25. 
A chapter that talks about the Year of Jubilee.

See, every 50 years, the Jews were to (you won't believe this):

"Set this year apart as holy, a time to proclaim FREEDOM throughout the land FOR ALL who live there. It will be a jubilee year for you, when each of you may return to the land that belonged to your ancestors and return to your own clan."

And that's when it hit me . . . As Cubans, we are in our 49th year of Exile. 
People, our Year of Jubilee is NEXT YEAR!!

(As a side note, in the Charada the number 49 is the Borracho, which perfectly describes the younger castro brother, but, as my mom would say, that's not important right now.)

So, I'm still praying for CAMBIO, and now I know it's possible.

Tio, I will miss you terribly.

You say you want a Revolution?

My cousin Maria and I were inseparable as little girls in Cuba. Inseparable.
We spent summers together on Varadero Beach in Cuba.
We spent most weekends playing together as our families were very close.
We celebrated every birthday together.
We celebrated every Christmas.
We were as close as sisters.

Together.
Celebrating.
Inseparable.

And then the world turned upside-down.
And the bearded rebels rolled into our hometown and changed both our lives forever.
My family left on a three month trip that turned into exile from everything we knew and loved.  Her family stayed and made a life under a stalinist regime.

We were ripped apart. Inconsolable. Sad.

And we grew up three thousand miles and forty five years apart.
We had not seen or spoken to one another in that lifetime.
That is soo NOT OK.

She and her family have been living in Miami for about the last ten years.  We speak often on the phone, send emails, and we spend as much time as possible together when we are in Miami.

So when she and her husband recently visited and we were driving home from Vegas we had a lot of catching up to do.  A four hour drive through the dry California desert is strangely conducive to truth telling.  We were talking about so many things, jumping to topics here and there, sharing our stories, our lives and finding common ground again.  It was then that the familiar music started playing, "You say you want a revolution. . ."
I was surprised to find they knew every lyric.  They are still both struggling to speak English but they can sing every lyric to every Beatles song ever recorded.  How did that happen?  The Beatles were definitely part of the music of the time that was banned in Havana. 

She told this part bitterly:

They listened clandestinely, behind locked doors and with ears pressed to the stereo.  Some friend would get a record and they would meet together to listen.
And the music was compelling, but it was dangerous. Because it put anti-revolutionary thoughts in their heads. But it felt so freeing to listen and dance to.
It was so wonderful and they were not immune. 
The Beatles.  Singing about peace and love, not motherland or death. 
"All you need is love" being much more appealing to the youth than their everyday "we will be like Che" catechism. 

In fact, you could be jailed for being caught with anti-revolutionary music! Imprisoned. Imagine! ("Imagine all the people, livin' life in peace. . .") Hard to imagine in Havana of the 60's.

But, life finds a way.   And the ridiculous revolution could not keep the message of love out of the hearts of the youth.

So, on hearing about her having endured all this repression growing up, I was surprised to find that in the year 2000, fidel castro himself unveiled this statue in a park in Vedado (my old neighborhood):

That's my uncle sitting with John Lennon.

There is a statue of John Lennon casually sitting in a park in Havana.  (to me this is completely surreal)

You could be imprisoned for playing his music for years, and then, suddenly, oh, gosh darn it, we just changed our minds about the whole subversive lyric thing and now we want to do something to honor him!  [Note to those rotting in prison for the crime of having been caught with his damning music - too bad for you!]

AND EVERYBODY IS OKAY WITH THIS???

I'm not okay.
I want stuff.

I want CHANGE in Cuba.
I want the insanity to stop.  I missed out on a lot of years with my cousin and frankly I'm mad as hell about it. I'm mad for all the families this happened to. I'm mad for all the disaffected youth.

I want the world to know about the destructive apartheid system that is in effect today in Cuba. I want the mainstream media to WAKE UP and smell the Café Cubano.

Today is  INTERNATIONAL HUMAN RIGHTS DAY. And I believe in God, so I am praying. Praying specifically for the protection of Dr. Darsi Ferrer Ramirez, the Cuban dissident who is leading a peaceful demonstration in Havana today at 11:00 am. Whose life and family are being threatened in multiple ways to keep him from demonstrating.  I'm praying for them.

And I'm wearing a white bracelet on which is written the word CAMBIO. It means CHANGE. (thanks Claudia!)  Real Change. Not just as in Hey-let's- change-our-minds-about-John-Lennon-and-the-Beatles today."  But as in apartheid is evil and it must stop.  Wearing this same bracelet in Havana will get you arrested. I wear it in solidarity for the brave Cuban young people who are not afraid of arrest or torture for wearing theirs. They deserve to be heard.

Sadly if the hard-nosed communists had only been listening to the actual lyrics of the Beatles, like most of the kids were, they might have found some hidden meaning in the song REVOLUTION.  (yes, hidden and written backwards you'll find the word LOVE.)

Coincidence? I think not.  I believe LOVE conquers all.  I'm optimistic that way and oh, yeah. . .

I believe in God.

"Cambio."

Revolution

You say you want a revolution
Well you know
We all want to change the world
You tell me that it's evolution
Well you know
We all want to change the world
But when you talk about destruction
Don't you know you can count me out
Don't you know it's gonna be alright
Alright Alright

You say you got a real solution
Well you know
We'd all love to see the plan
You ask me for a contribution
Well you know
We're all doing what we can
But if you want money for people with minds that hate
All I can tell you is brother you have to wait
Don't you know it's gonna be alright
Alright Alright Alright

You say you'll change the constitution
Well you know
We all want to change your head
You tell me it's the institution
Well you know
You better free your mind instead
But if you go carrying pictures of Chairman Mao
You ain't going to make it with anyone anyhow
Don't you know know it's gonna be Alright
Alright Alright