Hasta que

Se alegró cuando sintió la lluvia en su cara, hasta que se dio cuenta que eran las lágrimas de él despidiéndose para siempre.

Zanahoria (impossible love)

-Tengo que preguntarte algo
-¿Qué siento por ti?
-No
-¿Si hay otra chava?
-No
-Zanahoria

Love and coffee in 7-11

Huevos rancheros, México City

I love breakfast, or rather: the idea of it. Breakfast is the ideal meal where my happy childhood memories reside (along with my father’s spaghetti al ragù, which is what I wanted for my sixteenth birthday along with the Go-go’s Vacation album.) The perfume of coffee is a much better way to wake up instead of the cruel shrill cry of the alarm clock. And even though I love its scent, I have never been able to deal with it; I suppose that my experience with coffee is what   happens on a bad drug trip: paranoia, the shakes, cold sweats, and headaches that last for days. Just say “no thanks” to the dreaded coffee hangover kids.

Amor en el 7-11 (la cruda realidad del café)

Coatepec, Veracruz

Me encanta desayunar, mejor dicho: me encanta la idea. El desayuno es la mítica comida que vive en el país de mi mitología –es la memoria culinaria que relaciono con mi niñez (y el espagueti al ragù que hacía mi papá). El aroma del café mañanero me parece una mejor forma de despertarse, en lugar del cruel y estrepitoso despertador -y aunque me fascina su olor jamás lo he podido tolerar. Imagino que lo que me sucede cuando lo tomo es lo que pasa cuando alguien tiene una mala experiencia con las drogas: me pongo paranoica, nerviosa, siento que sudo por dentro, me da dolor de cabeza y estos efectos me duran por días. La terrorífica cruda del café: ¡aguas niños!

Caramelo is my favorite word

1. Don’t call me Virginia.
2. I take my chocolate dark 
3. Se dice: gracias, buenas y con permiso.
4. The smell of rain and vanilla put me in a good mood.   

¿Y tú? ¿Quién eres?

1.    No  me llamen Virginia y me encanta la palabra caramelo
2.    Chocolate.
3.    Se dice gracias, buenas y con permiso.
4.    El olor de la vainilla y la lluvia me ponen de buen humor.

Batallas internas - Infernal battles

She debated for a second: feel offended and slap him, or kiss him back because he was yummy - she made the right decision. 

Lo pensó un instante: abofetearlo por fresco o devolverle el beso al condenado travieso. Al final hizo lo correcto.

Una aventura llamada menudo

Llevo casi dos semanas batallando un resfriado que se ha robado mis ganas de vivir, y de convivir con mi alumnos –y eso que están en exámenes finales, pero les he dedicado las mejores catorce semanas de este otoño, y si no lo aprendieron ya, me late que es muy tarde.

Tripping on tripe soup

I’ve spent the past two weeks defending myself against a flu that has sucked the life out of me, and has left me with no desire to deal with indolent students who now care about their grades and homework. We have one week left of class, I have already given them the best fourteen weeks of my autumn, and if they haven’t learned it by now, it’s too late.

Ni amigo reconciliado, ni chocolate recalentado

she gave him another heartfelt chance ... but his aftertaste lingered horribly in her heart. 


 

Fragile remnants

fragile remnants of past romances lingered, especially imaginary ones

El día del pavo (y santería ...)

En Latinoamérica es común que ciudades y pueblos tengan nombres de santos, que celebremos fiestas patronales y el día de nuestro santo. Cuando vine a vivir a los EE.UU. me sorprendí al enterarme que la gente se estaba preparando para festejar a un santo. Nos dieron vacaciones en el colegio, iba a haber un gran desfile,  y los almacenes tenían ofertas. La explicación que nos dieron en la escuela me pareció interesante pero no entendí la conexión con este santo, y jamás había escuchado de él.

San Antonio

Turkey Day

In Latin America many of our towns and cities are named after saints, we have fiestas patronales, and we celebrate our saint’s day. When I came to live in the United States I was surprised that Americans were getting ready to celebrate a saint: we were going to have time off from school, there was going to be a big parade, and all the stores had sales. I found the explanation to this holiday interesting, but I didn’t see any connection with a saint, or had ever heard of him.

San Pascual, patron saint of cooks

Una escuincla babosa se enamora de México

A los seis años me tomó completamente por sorpresa cuando mi mamá nos dijo a mi hermana y a mí que nos regresábamos a vivir a Panamá –pensé que había nacido en Puerto Rico. Al principio no se me hizo difícil adaptarme, en particular porque lo que me gustaba comer se conocía con nombres diferentes: mantecados eran helados, limbers eran duros, chinas naranjas, y piraguas eran raspados. Mis nuevos amiguitos me ayudaron con los cambios lingüísticos y a ser más panameña. Esto fue algo muy significativo ya que desde entonces empezó mi amor por las palabras y por la comida.

How a brat fell in love with México

When I was six years old I was surprised when my mother announced that we were moving back home to Panamá -it never occurred to me that I wasn’t Puerto Rican. Puerto Rico was the only place I thought of as home. Moving back home required many adjustments, especially linguistic ones: mantecados were helados, limbers were duros, chinas were naranjas and piraguas were raspados. I adjusted and learned how to be more Panamanian with the help of my new friends who helped me learn the proper names of things. This was a significant event because it combined two things that have shaped my life: the love of food and the love of language.

Resignada

Resignada, me senté a la mesa y comí tu indiferencia a cucharaditas; como si fuera helado de zapote (no me gusta el helado)

Obediently, I sat at the table and ate your disdain in teaspoonfuls as if it were ice-cream (I don't like ice-cream).

Minervaplein Sunday

Another Sunday escapes the trap of his spider web at Minervaplein. While so many managed to enjoy the guilty pleasure of doing absolutely nothing; he managed to suffer gingerly about not doing enough. This constant preoccupation with productivity on his leisure time was one of his many, less obvious, but nonetheless, equally enchanting idiosyncrasies. Counting cheese and bread slices was another one.

En la tina I

Se sentía como camisa recién lavada y planchada

Baths: a cheap luxury, a weekly vacation. She smelled good, felt renewed, clean, and relaxed. She imagined this is how a freshly laundered and ironed shirt felt. Sitting in this aromatic water was like breathing a safe ocean. An ocean where magically, and slowly, worries drowned voluntarily and disappeared into the underworld down the drain. Thoughts deserted the mind, the body surrendered to warm waves of perfume. A soothing scent that tickled the nose and tricked her into believing the world was full of poetry and beauty. Until she woke up from her dream as the water turned cold.

Chin up, chest up, shoulders down.

Looking for stability and balance at the barre: A couple of times a week I go to ballet class. I am determined to be physically (and emotionally) balanced and flexible. I am learning how muscles that I wasn't aware of feel, what they can do,  how they hurt in different ways, and how to isolate their movements.

How I feel during barre exercises in ballet while following perfectly coordinated 19 year-old ballerinas (or 80’s songs).

1. Too Shy  -Kajagoogoo
2. Only in My Dreams  -Debbie Gibson 
3. Under Pressure  -Queen and David Bowie 
4. Here I Go Again -Whitesnake
5. Welcome to the Jungle  -Guns N' Roses 
6. Livin' on a Prayer -Bon Jovi 

vanilla and dead orchids

Another bright, white, tropical day of vanilla and orchids. Two years had been born and died since she left the country house of her youth. The place where time stood still and nothing ever changed.

He could not notice her hesitating into the dark, cold room with the heavy furniture and the cool red velvet chairs. She approached him, and their childhood dreams bombarded her. The buried ghost of their life together haunted her.