Island Girl

For as long as I can remember, summer meant finding a body of water to jump into to cool off. Simply stated, if it's hot and I see water, I want to jump in.

Maybe this desire comes from having been born on an island. Surrounded by pristine and inviting blue everywhere always made me want to be a part of the liquid beauty.

In Cuba, we spent our summers at Varadero Beach. The most perfectly perfect perfection of the beach experience anywhere. When we arrived in Miami in 1961, we used to go to Crandon Park ("El Charquito") where there were zero waves and so sometimes the water temperature would get into the 90's. Crazy, right?

Well, when I was 9, we moved to Southern California. There were many culture-shock moments moving from East to West coast, and the personality type of the Pacific Ocean offered one of the most shocking.

The Pacific Ocean, I quickly learned, was not the same as the Caribbean. Or for that matter, the Atlantic. For one thing, there was nothing "pacific" about it. There were waves. And when I say "waves," I mean WAVES.

There was an entire language dedicated to the description of the ocean activity. We learned to recognize when a "set" was coming in. We learned (after getting tumbled a few times) how to move toward the breaking waves instead of away from them to keep from getting pounded into the sand by the shore break. "Shore break" is a thing. Who knew?

There's an entire "surf science" based on high and low tides and there are optimal times to surf. Beach breaks are better at a medium tide - mostly early morning or early evening. Reef breaks will "close out" if the tide is too high. If you get caught in a rip tide that starts dragging you out to sea, you swim sideways, not toward shore.  See what I mean? So much to know. What a contrast between all of this and the yay-we're-at-the-beach-let's-go-swimming simplicity of the Caribbean and the Atlantic.

Also, in Cuba as well as in South Florida, ocean water is pretty much the same as bath water. You can walk right in with no shock to your system. The coolest the water gets there (please correct me if I'm wrong) is maybe the mid-80's. Still a very comfortable temp.

Ah, but in Southern California, the days of sea-water-the-same-as-bath-water were long gone. The water temperature here on the West Coast is routinely in the low to mid 60's. The cool water helps keep the coastal temperature refreshing, but surfing (which my people do routinely) or swimming usually requires a wetsuit.

There are lots of beach days where I don't do more than dip a toe in and complain about the cold water. And I miss being in the water. It's the only downside to life on this coast. (Well, that and our ridiculously liberal governor who is driving our economy into the ground and business out of the Golden State, but that's not important right now.)

However, these past couple of weeks there has been a heat wave here in So Cal. And mercifully the water temperature has risen along with the thermometer.

That's right. 74 degrees! Air and water temperature! And this coincided perfectly with our beach vacation. Thank you, God!

We spent our entire week splashing around, surfing, boogieing, and just cooling off in the ocean. Strangers were remarking to each other about how warm the water was. 74 degrees, people! Southern Californians headed to the shore in droves. We high fived each other over the awesome air/water conditions.

"The water is so incredibly warm!" We exclaimed to anyone who would listen.

I know. It's not Caribbean warm, but this island girl did not care. When the air and water are about the same (74!) temperature, magic happens. It was like this for the entire week we were vacationing at the beach. And there was no getting me out of the water.

Even when it was time to get out of the water.

The Best of MBFCF in 2010

I started this tradition last year.

I reviewed my posts for the entire year (which was kind of interesting in a wow-is-that-a-train-wreck? kinda way, but that's not important right now) and picked a mix of some of my favorites.

These links are a pretty good representation of what it's like Living the Vida Loca, MBFCF-style.

If you've been a regular reader, I thank you for your time and attention and your cyber-love. You may enjoy going into my cyber-time machine and re-living this past year via the following blog posts.

If you're new to my blog, make yourself at home and enjoy this slice of my Cuban-American life in the O.C.

Besos,

Marta

1. The Writing is On the Wall - The one where I take you on a tour of the walls of my freakishly small cottage-like home.

2. A Living Legacy - The one where my mom turned 96 and had her photo taken with (almost) everyone in my big, fat, Cuban family.

3. Amy's Trip to Cuba - The one where Amy Kikita (my daughter) goes to Cuba and shares how she experienced the island and the people and how she ended up meeting Cuban dissident blogger Yoani Sanchez of Generacion Y. This link is to all the posts from her trip.

4.  How Google Works - A Very Cuban Explanation - The one where my 96 year old mom explains how the internet search engines work. She calls them Cuco and Yayo (Google and Yahoo) and becomes an instant Youtube hit among Cubans everywhere.

5. How to Turn 55 While in Miami - In which I drag out my birthday celebration for days and enjoy a wonderful party and my husband's sweet surprise.

6. How to Throw a Virtual Birthday Party - In which I surprise and amaze my daughter by having everyone she knows post a birthday greeting. (*takes bow*)

7.  Hasta La Vista, Baby! - In which my son, Adam, moves far away and leaves me sad. (*wipes away a tear*)

8. Baking With Betty - Brownieliciousness - In which I get to bake in the Betty Crocker Kitchens in Minneapolis and am overwhelmed by my own nerdiness.

9. When is a Pitbull NOT a pitbull? - In which I am introduced to Cuban rapper, Pitbull and I may or may not have called him a muñecón. Here's the video version. ;-)

10. El Palacio and me. (It was love at first sight.) - In which I visit El Palacio de Los Jugos (with my partner in Tiki Tiki blog-crime, Carrie) in Miami and document the entire comelata.

11. The Mother Ring - In which I tell about how I received a family heirloom.

12. Nochebuena. Cubans. Photobooth. (Pachanga!) - In which I manage to capture the silliness and beauty that is my big, fat, Cuban family.

It's a nice compilation, isn't it?

I'll just keep writing in 2011. I hope you come back. My blog-casa is your blog-casa. =D

Happy New Year!

Seeing worlds in a grain of sand...

As you know, my childhood summers always involved the beach somehow. From the perfection that is Varadero to the surf in Santa Monica, every summer that I can recall was spent at the beach.

Of the many happy beach memories I have, however, one trumps them all.

I still remember the magical moment when my dad filled my plastic bucket with the perfect ratio of wet-to-dry sand, turned it upside down, tapped it a few times with his palm and then pulled it up.

Voilá! A Sand Castle! Ay Dios mio!! Pure magic!! (<--The double exclamation points are used to convey my excitement and on-going fascination with the still-to-this-day amazing process.)

When I had kids of my own, I couldn't wait to show them this same bit of beach magic. I remember watching their faces intently and sharing their excitement as they quickly grabbed the bucket to make this magic happen for themselves.

Fast forward to last week while we were on vacation....

While waiting for the surf to be up and being thwarted from playing beach games by the strategically placed flags on the beach, (see this post for clarification) we had to find another method of amusing ourselves.

Sand castles have come a long way since my childhood. It has now evolved into an art called Sand Sculpturing.

It turns out that the sand in Del Mar was Designed by God Himself for the express purpose of making exquisite Sand Creations.

So the boys started by creating a basic pyramid shape. This involved a lot of digging to get the right amount of sand to build up that pyramid-y base. Plus it took hours of concentration and work. (The really good kind of fun-work that happens when you're super focused on a task.)

 

Then while Eric cut away layers on the original pyramid, Jonathan created a little Egyptian village with its very own obelisk and Sphinx. (No, really...it gets way nerdier than this, I promise.)

 

Encouraged by the positive feedback (and personal pride) from their first attempt at sand sculpture, the next day, they went on to dig a wider perimeter and created a Sphinx.

 

Jon added detail to the face. (Yes, he first added a nose and then broke it off, but that's not important right now.)

Inspired by their sculpting success and the ease of sand manipulation, they ventured off to try other creations.

 

Reminiscent of Eric's first car. Pretty sweet ride, right?

 

Sometimes the creating just devolved into sand-stacking fun.

Finally, emboldened by his ability to make the sand bow to his will, Jonathan pulled out all the stops and went for creating The Great Pit of Carkoon*.

[*Explanatory note from Wookieepedia - The Star Wars Wiki: The Great Pit of Carkoon was located within the Dune Sea on the planet Tatooine. The large depression in the sand was the home of the rapacious, if slow-eating, sarlacc of Tatooine. Its proximity to Jabba's Palace, paired with the torturous death provided by the sarlacc, made it an ideal spot for executions to be carried out for Jabba the Hutt's pleasure. It would be the place of the Skirmish at Carkoon, and the subsequent death of Jabba.] <--But all you uber-geeks like us already knew that. =D

 

What was I doing? Mostly just sitting there shouting directions:

"This side needs to be built up more."

"Add some more suction cups."

"That tentacle needs more detail."

It took a while for them to realize that I was just sitting there "dirijiendo." Basically, I sat in my chair, under my umbrella and flag (!) telling them what to do (like the good, bossy Cuban mother that I am), while they were sweating and sculpting in the hot sun. (The Pharaoh to Israelite correlation was not lost on me, but that's not important right now.)

They never uttered a word of protest, but by the end of the day, Jonathan managed to convey his true feelings...

 

=D

The Most Beautiful Beach in the World

Most of the decor in my home is bright and colorful and Cuban-esque.

My "theme"? I was originally going for Cuban Beach Cottage. (Our home is small.) And so, I have collected posters and art and maps and things that are a throwback to the simple days of my Cuban childhood.

These three framed postcards, for example, are of 3 places that I remember vividly: (from top to bottom) Varadero Beach, The Hotel Nacional de Cuba, and the Malecón.

 

I've shared with you before about my fascination with the Hotel Nacional and the amazing gift I received from my friend, Ody.

I've written many times about how many of my earliest memories are of the beach. Specifically Varadero Beach in the Cuban province of Matanzas.

I have been to some beautiful beaches in my lifetime, but I still believe (as do most Cubans that I've met) that there is no beach on earth that compares with Varadero.

I vividly remember digging my toes into the soft powdery sand. I can practically smell the sea air. The water was walk-right-in warm. It's one of those perfect sensory memories that is seared into my brain.

Ah, Varadero! How can anything compare with the memory of your perfection? The most beautiful beach in the world.

Amy Kikita brought back some souvenirs from her Cuba trip. Some were gifts from the cousins and uncles. Some she chose herself at one of the flea markets.

 

There was a baseball hat from Los Industriales, some goat-skin maracas, a baseball bat & ball for Jon with his name carved into it, some jewelry for Lucy, wooden cooking utensils (how apropos!), an unusual wine-bottle holder.

How much fun we were having! We opened gifts and she told us the stories of how she came to acquire each one and who and where they were from. We laughed and celebrated the thoughtfulness of each item.

In the midst of this rowdy exchange she pulled out one last bundle which reduced me to tears...

It was a container made of heavy marble. (I have an extensive collection of small boxes/containers from all over the world, but that's not important right now) This one was from the amazing Hotel Nacional.

 

I thought this was "el colmo." ("the ultimate.")

Until she handed me the ziplock bag full of sand from the most beautiful beach in the world.

I am still speechless. Gracias, Mimi.

I'm the little girl in the white dress, all Shirley Temple curls and big red airplane-size hairbow. Please go back in time with me to the Varadero of my childhood.... (bring tissues...)