Arizona makes me go hmmmm… June 23, 2010

get it together Arizona

 

A few months ago when the whole Arizona bill debacle made it’s way around the internet, I was very confused about where I stood.  I do believe that we should keep our borders safe. Confession: I am scared of everything. Dogs, cab drivers, the dark, really random things normal people would not fear, etc. So I would like to feel safe in the country I live. But I also don’t believe that stopping every random brown person in Arizona will accomplish this.

It’s already tough being an immigrant in this country. I know because I am one. For example, a couple of months ago I went to Jamaica on vacation with a few girlfriends. The months leading up to that were spent checking the USCIS website to see when my replacement greencard was coming in and whether I could go on the trip at all. I applied for the card more than three months before and I received it two days before my trip.

The USCIS was not helpful at all in telling me when I would receive the card, but were very happy to take the 370 dollars it costs to apply for a replacement card.

There are some advantages to being an immigrant though. Whenever I make a really corny joke and everyone stares at me blankly I say “I’m not from here!” and all is understood.

 Yesterday, Latina.com had a brief article on Secretary of state Hillary Clinton. She declared to the Ecuadorian press that the potus (president of the United States) will bring a lawsuit against immigration law sb1070. Governor of Arizona Jan Brewer was very upset to hear of this through the Ecuadorian press. Does this really surprise Jan Brewer? Maybe Hillary shouldn’t have dropped this bomb to the Ecuadorian press. But Latin people, both latin- American and immigrant are the ones that want to hear that someone is questioning this bill. A lot of people were up in arms about this bill and what it means for the climate of this country. This is supposed to be “post-racial” America (we have a black president yay!) but bills like this make it very clear that we are very far from that. I don’t know what the right answer to securing the borders is. I do know that those who are asked for their documents in Arizona will more often than not be a brown person. The white house says they are still reviewing the case but I do hope that someone challenges this. If not, I’m scared of the other states will inevitably follow suit. All I know is that it took 3 months to get my greencard.  If I would have been caught during those months in Arizona I would probably have been shipped off to the Dominican Republic. What a tragedy. I don’t even know how to dance yet…

Check out hillary below. Tell me what you think.

clumsy people can’t dance… or can they? June 21, 2010

 

how do people do that?!

When I was 4 years old I had to wear corrective boots for a year.  Forrest Gump style. Don’t laugh! To this day I don’t know how to walk correctly. I trip at least once a day. If I were ever being chased I would just give in because as soon as I start running I will fall flat on my face. My mom has told me to stop telling people about the corrective shoes. In her words “we fixed that. End of story.” Except that all through college I wore ripped jeans, not because they were in style, but because I tripped and fell more times than I can count. A lot. and often.

There’s a point to this so stay with me.

If I can hardly walk regularly, how am I supposed to dance to all that hip shaking and precise merengue, bachata and salsa? For those of you that don’t know what those dances are or how to dance them, you’re not alone. I have no clue how to dance to those either. Shocking! I know. A Latina that can’t dance. It’s my secret shame. My family (who by the way, is really great at the support and self esteem) has tried to either hide or secretly fix this while no one else is watching.

One Saturday afternoon my cousin, who happens to be an amazing dancer, tried to teach me to dance bachata. He grabs my hand and tells me to follow his lead.  “this is the easiest thing for you to learn Lari, so get it together”. I take a deep breath in and 1,2,3 step. 1,2,3 step. I count in my head and look down at my feet. I’m really doing it! I can just picture myself showing everyone that I can dance now. No more head shaking and ‘poor you’ stares at baby showers. Suddenly my cousin knocks me out of my daydream and says “Dios mio, tu eres un desastre” loosely translated: “my God, you are a disaster.” Like I said, my family is really great at the support and self esteem. And that my friends was the last time I attempted to dance to any Latin dance. I was 15 and decided I can bump and grind much better than I could 1,2,3 step.

This past weekend was one of my best friends  25^th birthday and she wanted to dance. Not bump and grind. But dance. At a place….with “Spanish music.”  I’m sure that the horror was painted all over my face because she quickly added “ I’ll pick a place with English speaking music too.” I was saved! Except that the whole point of this project is to submerge myself into different cultural aspects. So with my head held high I walked into the spanish room and faced bachata one more time.  My friend Zumara was nice enough to come with me and dance with me.  Once again someone counted in my ear counting 1,2,3 step…1,2,3 step.  This time I was much better! Plus she was very encouraging (I wonder how I can adopt her into my family…). Apparently we were so great two gentlemen decided to dance with us. That’s where my confidence fell. At certain points I froze. Didn’t know how to follow this man’s steps. I was embarrassed. But he said I was doing very well. Confidence back. I stayed in the room and practiced my dancing with some other close friends. It wasn’t a total disaster but I did manage to step on some other man’s foot. And he did happen to avoid me the rest of the night.

I’m going to start dance lessons soon. Before I do that though I’m going to have to practice my “ oh sir I am so sorry I’ve been stepping on you all night and now you need a cast for your foot” look.  Time to look for a teacher… any volunteers? Anyone know how to get this baby to teach me to dance?

MamaJuana, great food..better people watching June 17, 2010

Diners at MamaJuana cafe

I have a confession. To those that know me it’s no surprise but…. I love to eat.  Love not like. One time, I was frantically searching for my credit card inside a bank of America. A line of annoyed people formed behind me as I start pulling out every little thing in my purse looking for the card. Among my wallet and lip gloss were a spoon and 4 jelly beans.

I’ll give you a second to take in the whole scene.

Alright so this happened last week not “one time”. And I know, I know it’s not normal. The point is that I have a special relationship with food.  I think most people have a special relationship with food. It’s where our dates take us or where we invite people on dates. It’s where we get together with our friends and catch up. There are even commercials telling us to have dinner with our families because food is that important. That’s why I decided to try out different latin restaurants in the city. We can learn so much about other cultures through food and I have decided that part of my learning process should be to eat and ask questions. Like they say, it’s a tough job but someone’s gotta do it.

Up first is MamaJuana Cafe in Inwood.

MamaJuana Cafe outside

I live in Washington Heights. This is little Dominican Republic where there are a multitude of Dominican Restaurants and a rich Dominican culture. That being said, I don’t take full advantage of my surroundings. I didn’t even know MamaJuana’s existed until my roommate’s sister invited us to brunch this past weekend.  For 18 dollars they have an all you can eat and all you can drink brunch. As soon as we sat down the mimosas were placed on our table to greet us (he-llo!). As I was going to take a sip of my mimosa, Yessi who is sitting to my left calls the waitress over and says “we want a round of Jack Daniels punch”.  Apparently this is a very big secret only known to those who frequent the place often because the gentlemen sitting behind us called the waitress over and said “Jack Daniel’s punch! We want what they’re having” (sidenote: this is why it’s important to go to places often so that you can learn all the secrets). The punch was delicious and that set the tone for the rest of my experience at MamaJuana’s. It is absolutely delicious. An eclectic mix of traditional American breakfast and traditional Dominican breakfast and lunch dishes.  I had an omelet and bacon to start and then mashed plantains (mangu)  and the churrasco steak . The steak was amazing and I highly recommend it. If you want to be introduced to latin food this is a perfect place to go. Plus, there’s the added bonus of amazing people watching. I saw a girl in a bright gold sequined vest. It was 2 pm. no one could tell her that sequined anything are for night time.

MamaJuana is a place that I will go back to and will recommend to anyone who wants to venture into latin food or already loves it. Ask for the Jack Daniel’s punch and tell them I sent you! (Alright, don’t tell them I sent you cause they have no clue who I am BUT do get the jack Daniels punch). You won’t regret it.

The Ella Project June 9, 2010

where do you come from?

I’m 16 sitting on the A train next to my best friend Criss. We’re on our way home from school having very serious adult conversations. Even though the lady next to us is not amused at our who’s better nsync or the backstreet boys debate. Very.Serious. Somehow the conversation turns to our future and Criss tells me that when she has children they are going to learn to speak English in school like she did. I tell her it’s a great idea and I’m going to do the same. I’m from the Dominican Republic. Born there and brought to the US by my parents in search of something better. I learned to speak English here and I speak both languages impeccably. It’s a talent! even if my 16 year old self says so herself.

Fast Forward to now. I’m 26 and staring at the super of my building carve a giant hole in my ceiling because there’s a leak in my apartment.  I’m talking about a GINORMOUS hole.  He stops Carving and turns to me. He says the leak is actually in the apartment above me and that he’s going upstairs to fix it now. I’ll just have to wait until tomorrow to get the GINORMOUS hole fixed. I want to let this man know that this is unprofessional! This is New York City and if a mouse crawls through that giant hole I’m going to sue him! Except the words don’t come out because I can’t think of the right things to say in Spanish and he doesn’t speak English. When did this happen? How did this happen? Where did my Spanish go?! I want it back.

That’s how The Ella Project came along. It’s a way for me to reconnect with being Latina. It’s easy to lose sight of that in the day to day grind. I didn’t realize how easy it is to assimilate and lose the little things I enjoy about it. Like, telling my super that it’s inappropriate to leave giant holes in apartments using witty Spanish. This project is a journey in being Latina in America.  I’m going to learn to dance (never really knew how), I’m going to explore New York City (the best city, no offense) and find ways to reconnect with Latina culture. I want to Learn about other Latina women and share their journey in America. I want to make sure my future children don’t lose their culture along the way because right now, in this moment, my sixteen year old self is giving me the side eye.