I’ve talked about this before on my other blog, Bilingual in the Boonies. My husband thinks I am way much more fun in Spanish-speaking countries — and that includes Miami.
I agree with him.
It is most obvious to me just how vanilla I can be when my family is here visiting. I hear the music in their words, notice the crazy and the pal’ carajo in their attitude. I’m a little too protestant sometimes, if truth be told.
My father is not. Yes, he is a pain in the fotingo about whether the doors are all locked and about how quickly Maria brushes her teeth after dinner, but he’s kinda typical Cuban — pretty easy and generally joyful.
Witness Papi and Maria playing pick-up sticks. He’s not acting. He’s being himself. 100% It is why my house is very quiet when he is gone. Also notice my kid cheating her 72-year-old Abuelito in the game.
I am everlastingly grateful my kid gets regular doses of the viejos who fill her house with something besides: “Did you wash your hands?” and “Eat some more peas.”