Because fireworks always make me cry (but that's not important right now)...

We're taking the day off, of course.
We'll swim today. It's hot here in Southern California.
Later we're meeting some other families to share food and a picnic at our local lake.
We'll wait until the sun has set and we'll all watch the fireworks together.
Just a typical family celebrating a typical 4th of July.

With one small exception.
When I typically watch 4th of July fireworks, I pray. And I cry.
I know. That sounds so odd doesn't it?

I am grateful to God. Oh, so grateful.
I'm grateful that this country took us in when we were wide-eyed, traumatized Cuban refugees.
I'm grateful and proud to call America my home.
I'm grateful for the freedom we've been afforded here. Something I will never take for granted.
I am grateful for my big, fat, Cuban family and my English husband and my Cuban-American kids, and my wonderful friends.

Those things will run through my mind as I'm watching fireworks.
And so I will pray to God and thank Him for it all.
And I will know I've connected with Him when the tears sting my eyes.

I am grateful to a living God who has a plan for my life and for this country.

So this 4th of July, I will be the uber-geeky, proud and happy Cuban-American celebrating my independence, who weeps while watching the fireworks. (sigh)

And, okay, I might be embarrassed for a moment, but I'll get over it right away. ;-)

Happy Independence Day from the Darby clan!

Cuban-American Pride

Kikita here.  Boy, do I have a story today!

In my many dancing travels, I have made some Cuban friends.  I'm sure I've mentioned them before, but that's not even that important right now.

By some fluke, my friends were playing a venue early in the evening at a place close to their home.  Being that we've become really close (there aren't that many Cubans out here anyway), they are always inviting me over and I just haven't gone.  Well, this night was perfect.  They finished their set early and convinced me to follow them home with promises of homemade Fricase de Pollo.  Loca that I am (and never one to turn down free Cuban food), I went home with them.

Before those of you who consider yourselves my surrogate parents start to freak-out, let me just say that these are all very nice guys who are more protective of me than my own brother and instantly made me feel at home the minute I crossed their threshold.  (And no, their pollo was not as good as Mami's) ;-)

We weren't there two minutes before the music started.  They've been schooling me in newer Cuban artists and I've been teaching them English.  Yes, a hilarious thought, I know, but all of them can now say, "To your right, to your left, and the eyes, with your hands up . . ."

After we ate, we were dancing and enjoying each other's company when I notice one of the boys is sitting at the computer while holding an official looking document in his hand.  As it turns out, he was using an online translator to figure out what the document said.  While my brain is working this out, one of the other boys suggests I do the translating.

Holding that paper in my hands, I realized what a momentous occasion it was.  I felt tugs from my Cuban side as my heart swelled with American pride.

Excitedly, I explained to my friend how his application for permanent residency had been approved.  His Green Card was on its way!  I know how desperate all of my friends had been waiting for their approval letters.  It's been 5 years since they've been back to Cuba and they miss it terribly.  That was when I realized how well I really have it here and how much I take my American side for granted.  I'm always so ready to express my Cuban pride, but rarely the American and here my friend was just dreaming to share that pride with me.

With the 4th of July right around the corner, my friend's good news seems that much more poignant.

You can bet I'll be singing the National Anthem and enjoying fireworks with more pride than I have in years past. 

Because more so this year, I am proud to be a Cuban-American.

dan•ger•ous (adj) - able to inflict injury or harm.

Okay, so now I know just enough to be dangerous.

I've been taking some online classes. Specifically, I'm learning how to scrapbook digitally using Photoshop Elements 6. I'm still just doing the assignments from class, but I'm all proud of myself and I wanted to share....

The journaling is from a blog post I did about a year ago. (journaling my thoughts for later scrapbooking was the reason I started blogging in the first place, but that's not important right now.)

How cool is this?
I'm all stoked and happy now that I know how to create layers so I can pull color out of a picture and I'm going a little loony stamping with those swirly brushes. Seriously, I'm having a blast.

Heck, I'm getting so good at this....
I could Photoshop the bearded dictator into some fun and humiliating poses!

Or...not.

My life and my time are way too valuable.  ;-)

They just don't make 'em like that anymore

Did I mention that my mom is in Miami again? That's right. My 94 year old mother. In Miami. For the summer. (sheesh!)

She's spending the summer with her two brothers - one older, one younger. She'll be staying through July so she can attend my nephew, Michael's wedding.

We had a scare about a week ago because her heart rate dipped down below normal and she had to spend the night in the hospital. So, I'm FREAKING here because we're 3,000 miles away and she's taking it all in stride. They were great there, she reported. So nice and they treated her like a queen, she said. No need to bother, she said. She's just fine. She felt like she was staying in a hotel. Kind of a nice break from her brother's house. (sheesh!)

Meanwhile, I'm still struggling with my back trying to keep it in alignment and visiting my chiropractor and trying to bum codeine from anyone I happen to know who has recently had oral surgery...
"Your 18 year old son had his wisdom teeth pulled?? Cool. Does he have any pain meds to share?" (I know. Sad. Pathetic. I'll call Betty Ford tomorrow. =D)

Anyway, so I'm feeling really old, as only back pain can make you feel, when I receive this (sobering) picture from my cousin, Maria in Miami. It seems my mom and uncles were out partying. Partying! She got over that whole pesky hospital-stay-thing pretty quickly. (sheesh!)

This is what OLD looks like in my family:

Tio Fernando (97), my mom, Luz (94), Tio Timbiriche (88).
(if you're doing the math, that's 279 years collectively!)

SHEESH!!

(Codeine?  Anyone....? SIGH.)

It smells like a Cuban home

When I was growing up, I remember that each day I woke to a most distinctive blend of aromas.
I knew my dad was up and getting ready for work when the mingled scents of Vitalis, Bustelo, and H.Upmann Finos insinuated themselves into my dreams and yanked me out of my sound sleep.

To this day, the distinctive aroma of Cuban coffee gives me a sense of security. Seared into my subconscious, along with the smell of coladitos is the knowledge that my Dad was working and all was right with the world.

Odd, isn't it? I mean I know I'm talking about cheap after-shave, cigarettes and coffee. But it was Eu de Papi to me. My dad was not present much. He worked very hard to support our family and for that I'm grateful. But when he was present, so were the Bustelo and the H.Upmanns. Such was my life.

It occurred to me that my kids are growing up with a completely different view of what Dad and Security means to them.

And that it looks something like this:

 

Their idea of dad going to work is the whirr of the laptop firing up. Which is why I make sure there's always some Bustelo brewing. There's a certain continuity there, don't you think?
I'd hate for them to miss out on the smell of freshly brewed espresso in the morning. Or maybe I'd hate for Eric to miss out... Or maybe it's just my own stuff.... It's all a blur now...

All I know is that the aroma of espresso in the morning means that Dad is working and all is right with the world. ;-)

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

 

It's not over yet...

I don't know if this is a general Cuban birthday custom or if it was just peculiar to our family, but on your birthday, you would display your opened gifts on your bed all day. I always liked that. You know, it made me feel special and celebrated and somehow made my birthday feel like an important milestone.  Even if there was no party, seeing the gifts displayed together always gave me the feeling that today is something special. In fact, I continue to follow the tradition with my kids.

How it works is that on your birthday as you receive and open gifts, you immediately place them on your bed (which was beautifully and perfectly made, at least for this day!) in a wonderful display of abundance and celebration of your family's generosity. Isn't that cool? Plus it gave you a ready-made birthday show-and-tell venue which added a bit of theatricality to the day. "This is from ........"

I continued to enjoy the Birthday Bed Display myself until I got married. It's a little trickier because well (ahem) I share a bed now.  But because I still like the tradition of keeping birthday gifts on display, I went with another option - the hutch.

Check out my birthday stash! (and guess who's going to be having an Andy Garcia/Ocean's 11, 12, & 13 film festival VERY soon, but that's not important right now. =D)

Anyway, except for the tulips (thanks, Michelle!) my birthday gifts are still on display on my hutch.
I know. I'm not being lazy or anything (which of course, is entirely possible, but not true in this case) it's just that I'm still trying to drag out this birthday celebration thing for the entire month...

.....which means I get to celebrate for one more day. ;-)

And the number one reason why I could never live in Miami...

I admit it.
I have no willpower.
This place is open until all hours of the night.
And they serve Cuban food, people.
Fabulous Cuban food!
And pastries.
Amazing Cuban pastries!
And I have no willpower.
It's like the Cuban Mecca.
And I am a faithful pilgrim.
To go to Miami is to go to Versailles.
And seriously, if I lived in Miami, well....
you can imagine!
Cuban food!
At all hours!
I would certainly rise to that challenge.
Did I mention that I have no willpower?
I would find myself completely out of control.
So it's a very good thing that I don't live in Miami.
In fact, I was kind of relieved when we finally got to the airport last week to come home.
I could finally leave temptation behind me and breathe once again.

But when we arrived at the airport and to our departure gate, we found this:

Right next to our DEPARTURE GATE!
I took it as a sign from God.
(Thank you, God!)
That's Kikita and Adam making their "please, Mom, PLEASE!!" faces.
And it worked. Not much arm-twisting needed. ;-)

• Three Cuban sandwiches.
• Three bags of mariquitas.
• Three ice-cold Matervas.
• Ummm.. FOUR pastelitos de guayaba. (por si... =D)

I know my limits. Don't judge me.

First things first

Because I'm an avid scrapbooker, family historian and documenter of all things in my family's life, you can be sure that I have recorded all of my kids' firsts:

• first smile
• first tooth
• first Christmas
• first days of school
• first time on stage
• first dance
• first (fill in the blank)

I could go on and on (oh, you know that I could)......

And so it is with great pride that I was able to document this first in my son's life:

Adam's first GUARAPO!

Okay, I'll explain.
"Guarapo" is a drink made from pure, fresh sugar cane.
Yes, you read that correctly.......
Sugar Cane Juice.

The juice is obtained by crushing sugar cane in an electric mill that separates the peel from the pulpy insides:

It was a fascinating process to watch and such a proud moment for this Cuban mom.
 
Okay. So maybe he was whirling around like a Tasmanian Cuban-American Devil for the rest of the day, but that's not important right now.   =D

Cuban Independence Day

There's so much I want to tell you about Cuba Nostalgia.
But right now, let me tell you about the maps.
There were three and they were larger than life.
One of the city of Havana. One of the city of Santiago de Cuba. One of the entire island.
The last one was placed just to the right of the Babalu booth, and so we had the privilege of witnessing the following scene over and over and over:

They would see the map and make a beeline for their spot on the map. There was no deviation. It was as if they were following invisible stage directions.  Of course, I did it too.  We all did. I walked the island with my friend, Reinier, starting in Pinar del Rio where my father's family, the Verdes side were from, all the way to Oriente and Holguin where my grandmother's family, the Espeletas were from.  We made a stop in Puerto Padre, where my grandfather's family, Perez-Puelles originated. We walked all the way back to Havana and compared notes about what part of that province we knew and where our families were from. Everyone was doing a version of this "island walk." I loved that.

But every now and then someone else made their map-walking pilgrimage and their commentary went something like this: "Nine years here. Six years here..." They would walk over the map as we all did, talking and pointing. Not to the places where their families had lived, or where they had once vacationed, but to the places where they had served time. Because they were once political prisoners and they were talking about where they had served time in castro's gulag. And this was not just one isolated case. There were so many. So many! It was shocking to me. I know. It shouldn't have been, right?  I knew this intellectually, but these were people with faces and families and lives. I felt the impact viscerally. And I couldn't keep the tears from leaking out.

We spent most of the weekend getting people to electronically sign this petition for the release of Cuba's political prisoners. The ones who had done time in Cuban jails were pushing their way forward and finding in us a willing audience for their stories. And you know, I usually don't write about political topics, but I do write about being Cuban and celebrating family.  Well, this is not about politics. It IS about families.  It's about husbands and wives and daughters and sons. It's about families torn apart because of the courage of a few to speak up against the injustices of the revolution and having their lives ripped apart for doing so.

I'm proud to report that we personally typed in over 3,000 names over the course of the weekend and handed out dozens of CAMBIO bracelets.

Please add your name to the petition.
TODAY.
Especially today.
You see, today, May 20th is Cuban Independence Day.
It was on May 20th, 1902, that the island of Cuba declared her independence from Spain.
And it is today, May 20th, that I have written this, my 500th post, but that's not important right now.....
.....or maybe it is?

CAMBIO.