"Life" in Cayman

In Cayman I wake up when the dim light that manages to pass through the tiny space left between the curtain and the wall allows it to.  I never hear an alarm clock, I never have to hit the snooze button, I want to wake up when the ray of light says it's time to.

I can wear whatever I want to wear, any colors, any lengths... I can take my time and make my hair look pretty.  I can sing while I shower, and I spend many many minutes there without even counting them.  I use all the imaginable body and hair products.  I smell awesome.

I have feasts for breakfast, not the same boring cheerio's bowl and the same boring diluted coffee.  I read the paper and all the news are good.  In Cayman I never hear about how many people died in Mexico because of the drug wars, or about the world's poor economy.  All the news are about fashion, and parties, and jewelery, and shoes.  I laugh all the time, there is always something fun to talk about.  I can share my opinion, and you would listen, and you share yours and I listen and most of the time we agree. 

Nobody calls me on the phone with the words: "We have a problem."  I never have a problem.  We have breakfast and then we walk to the beach.  They give us a free towel and we pick our spot next to the ocean.  We are still laughing and we are watching the immensity of the big blue, the occasional cruise ship, and the pirate boat (a tourist attraction).  We read from our books and not from our emails, we share what we are reading, and then we walk on the beach.

We stroll slowly, while we talk and make plans, and sometimes we put our feet in the warm water.  I write our initials on the sand and then the tide takes them away.  We see crabs and fish, and we run after them and then we laugh again.  The sun is good and warm and keeps us tanned and gorgeous.

In Cayman I don't have to connect to meetings, and listen for hours with nothing to say.  I ride on a huge van with the steering wheel on the "wrong side" to Georgetown, and I stare at jewels that I could never afford.  I ask for the prices of watches that cost more than my car, and I smile as the lady explains to me all the good characteristics of the time pieces, as if trying to explain why all the zeros in the price.  

My projects go perfectly.  My main initiative is being happy and telling everybody that it is my birthday.  I achieve it with no effort.  People give me free dessert and wish me a happy birthday, and they kinda mean it, and they always smile.  I never see a frown, I never feel unwelcome.  I don’t mind staying here for the weekend, who would?

In Cayman we share a bottle of pink champagne listening to the waves at night, watching the sky and looking for shooting stars.  I’m happy you were there to see me see a shooting star for the first time.  Then we see another one and we laugh a little more.  We hold hands.  The air is warm and sweet, the sand is soft and cozy.  Our main concern is that mosquitoes might get to us... that is the extent of our worries. 

Vidas en Venta

Además de los ya muy retuiteados y feisbuqueados intentos de la sociedad cibernauta por tener una opinión política, a mí lo que me preocupa es la falta de esperanza.  No porque no haya opciones de gobierno... qué caray, esas nunca las hubo en mi país.  O que, ¿se creyeron eso de que cuando ganara otro partido político se acabarían todos nuestros problemas?  La corrupción ha oxidado el azul y el amarillo, tanto como oxidó al tricolor...  No es eso, no. 

En donde residen mi miedo, mi frustración y mi falta de fé, es en el miedo que me da ya la escala de valores del grupo (grande o pequeño, mayoría o minoría) que ejerce estos actos de violencia en México.  Como bien dijo un gemelo que conozco, van 35,000 muertos y ahorita todo mundo se pone político.  ¿De dónde salen tantos muertos, quién los hace?

Disparar un arma no debe ser fácil.  ¿Qué fuerza, qué coraje, qué valor, qué ideas deben estar detrás de ese dedo para animarlo a jalar el gatillo?  ¿Por qué?  En las grandes guerras, en las máximas matanzas, nunca he sentido yo que un pueblo se volque contra sí mismo por dinero nada más.  ¿Qué tanto dinero le pueden pagar a alguien por matar a alguien más?  ¿Qué tanto por quemar a 52?  ¿Qué tanto por disparar con una ametralladora contra un restaurante en el que se pueden morir niños y mujeres?  A ti que estás leyendo, ¿cuánto te tendrían que pagar por matar a alguien?  ¿Cuánto por verlo a los ojos y dispararle entre las cejas, para después cortarle la cabeza, poner el cuerpo en la cajuela y botarlo afuera de Televisa Santa Fé.  ¿Por cuánto lo harías?  Si fueras un soldado... ¿qué tanto trabajo te costaría matar a un soldado enemigo, igual a ti, en la línea de fuego?

Esta gente lo hace todo el tiempo.  No matan por hambre, no matan por defender a su patria, no matan por luchar por un ideal.  Ese es su "empleo."  Los narcos y los ejecutores de los narcos... ¿por qué la furia?  ¿por qué el odio?  Los asesinos en serie, los violadores, los tiranos... todos demuestran dejos de conciencia de una forma u otra.  Cubren a sus víctimas después de matarlas a sangre fría.  Los que no lo hacen, son considerados "psicópátas".  ¿Cuántos psicópatas hay en México?  Es una enfermedad incurable. 

No me horroriza que hayan matado a 52 ayer... me horroriza que en mi país la vida de todos está en venta y hay quien paga y hay quien cobra.   

Sopilín's Visit and the Downsides of Matriarchy

I move to Cincinnati and everyone back home thinks it is a fascinating city in the US.  Having been only to venues like Orlando, LA, Chicago or NY they can hardly picture the easy life of the midwest.  I let them know that, although not a small city, there is not much going on here other than eating, enjoying a day at the pool, and shopping... lots of shopping.

Most people lose interest immediately, and that is probably why I have not had any visitors in the past 6 months.  However, my 14yr old cousin thinks it's the best place in the world... eating, pool, and shopping???  Compared to the rest of her summer, spent mostly with my aunts and watching telenovelas with my grandma:  paradise.


So I tell her to come, she convinces her dad to pay for the ticket, and she decides to spend the last two weeks of her summer here.  Everyone back home is super nervous because she has not traveled a lot internationally.  What if you need special permit to leave the country with a minor?  What if she gets lost in the airport?  What if her ears hurt in the plane (runs in the family)?!?  I, knowing that she is neither stupid nor 5, tell all my aunts not to worry.

We are having the best time on our own.  You don't need anything to leave the country with a minor (mmmhhh...), and she did not get lost in the airport.  Her ears did hurt on the plane, but she took an aspirin, got over it and that was it.  We went to my place and she liked it, I showed her around, we went to the supermarket and bought things we thought we would crave in the following days and that was our first night in Cinci... then the madness started.

First, I need to give you a brief background of my family.  My mom has three sisters.  Each one has only daughters (no sons) and even one of those daughters has a daughter of her own.  My aunts and mom would kill me for revealing their age, but let's say they are between 45 and 65.  Last year with me moving and all, they discovered instant messaging and Facebook, which they mainly use to spy on their daughters and nieces, and play Farmville like crazy.

Given that background, let me assure you the first thing I did as soon as we landed was call everyone: "Hey guys, we landed, we survived, we're going home now... and then to the supermarket, because we need food for the rest of the week.  Call you later, love you, bye."  And then it began...  The first signs of madness appeared on FB.  One of my aunts kept writing to me: "POST PICTURES OF EVERYTHING YOU ARE DOING!!"  We were basically walking in the supermarket, hardly worth a FB picture, but I did it anyways because I know they miss my cousin.  So I do it, and three seconds later she writes: "MORE PICTURES".  Damn it, man.  We are doing exactly what we were doing three seconds ago when I posted it!!! I ignore it and got two inbox messages and one text message to my phone requesting more pictures.

So the next thing we did after the supermarket was have dinner.  So I take a picture of our lasagna and post it.  Immediately, a photo comment: "You are ALWAYS eating!!"  Well... if always is the last five minutes, then yes.  I ignored it this time and went to bed... I could hear the distinctive sound in my phone of FB comments, emails, text messages, etc.  I ignored them.

I wake up the next day to find the following comments / messages / questions / recommendations in all sorts of communication tools (IM, Facebook wall, Facebook inbox, text message, email, etc):

1. Speak to her only in English so she can practice.
2. Don't you have more pictures??
3. Make her practice a sport.
4. Is she making her bed in the mornings?
5. Is she sleeping too much?
6. Don't have too much candy.
7. Go to the bowling alley
8. Call the airline and find out if she needs any papers to re-enter Mexico.
9. TAKE MORE PICTURES!!!!
10. Why haven't you called me?!?!?

All this in one night!!!!  What is wrong with you people!?!?

First of all, I will not talk to her in English all the time.  In fact, she is now exposed to more English than ever before in her life.  Se watches TV in English, interacting with people who only speak English, reading all the signs around her in English... why should I become part of that too!?!?  It would be super stupid, we both speak Spanish as our first language.  We both speak French too, but we are not talking in French either, are we?? So no, mom, I'm sorry but I have to practice my Spanish.

Second, we are not doing anything "picture worthy." If they miss us too much, they can see the pictures they already have.  Any other picture I take will look just like those pictures... perhaps even worse.  Who would want to see a picture of us watching TV!?!  TV in English, by the way.

Then there's the whole "educational vacation" thing.  There is a reason why my beautiful teenage cousin prefers to spend her summer with me, in Cincinnati, and not with her aunts in the largest, busiest city in the World.  SHE DOES NOT WANT TO BE EDUCATED DURING THE SUMMER.  I never ever make my bed... how can I ask her to make hers!?!?!  If she wants to sleep in a messy bed, that has not been made since 2003, that is solely her problem.  Someone even said: "So that your house looks pretty."  My house is always pretty, and almost nobody comes see it.  If somebody comes, I am pretty sure they are not going to go upstairs and open the door to the guests bedroom and then complain about the bed not made. 

Speaking of which, ask me which sports do any of my aunts play?  Is slot machines a sport?  No.  These are the same people who educated me.  All of them smoking a pack of cigarettes a day, never ever EVER having an outdoor activity.  You can imagine how I turned out... and they know it.  How do they expect me to suddenly change, become a PE teacher, and make my cousin practice sports for two weeks!?!?! HOW????  I cannot even answer the question about her "sleeping too much" or not.  How much is too much??  When I am in Cincinnati by myself, like the poor thing is when I am working from 9 to 5, I sleep all the time.  Every morning, when I wake up, I wish I slept more.  Why would I take this pleasure away from her??  There is no such thing as "too much sleep", who are you kidding!?

I believe that if they did not ask for anything for a minor to leave the country, they could not care less about the minor coming back.  The US definitely does not want little Mexicans staying on this side, so I am pretty sure they will have nothing to say either.  I have seen many kids traveling.  Kids with their brothers, sisters, moms, dads, grandparents, friends.  Kids traveling alone.  Kids traveling with other kids.  I have never ever heard anything about a permit.  I will call the airline anyways, or they will drive me crazy with questions for the next two weeks.  Apparently if I say: "No, you don't need anything," that is not enough.  If a high school dropout clerk from Continental Airlines that has only traveled to Arkansas once in her life says so, it is THE LAW.

Ahhh, I love them, but sometimes they are too opinionated about things they shouldn't.  For example, the only bowling alley I know here is filled with cholo teenagers with brass knuckles.  Thank you, but no.  Also, I am 30.  I will have as much candy as I want, and that is it.  If I want to skip breakfast, lunch and dinner, and just eat candy all day, I will.  That's how I roll.