Te Extra├▒o – Bachata

Bachata makes me…

  1. Miss my hair
  2. Want to lose 15 pounds
  3. Consider moving to Venezuela… like… tomorrow
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Spanglish

In advance I must apologize for my posts over the next few days. They will be short and entered by blackberry as if my spelling isn’t naturally atrocious as it is! Not to mention that for the next few days I will be totally immersed in my native tongue – Spanglish. So please forgive me if I talk about la musica en the radio or the ojos de my doctor at the universidad. It cannot be helped. I am what I am and when in Rome… I mean Miami.

Joining the clouds on our island airlines and flying over other islands and the keys has never been more liberating. This time I was flying with my parents – our first trip to Miami all together without other siblings since I was a little girl. As we rented the car and complained to the car company about the smell of cigarette smoke in it (bloody South American tourists) memories come back to me like photographs. I see my young parents themselves in their twenties singing in the front seat from my booster seat in the back. I remember being excited about the baby in Mummy’s belly as she would walk me to the jewish pre-school from married student halls. I expected that baby boy to pop out ready to play hide and seek I really did! It is bringing back memories of missing Daddy as he left to go home to work, of parrot jungle and the metro and napping in the window spaces at the synagogue. Even then I was learning with interest other people’s stories, cultures, hearts.

It all comes back, memories in Spanglish.